#they can't tell us he can do that without him doing it eventually

[iamthatonefangirl]

bad luck part 3 - winter soldier/bucky barnes

word count: 3.8k disclaimer: heavy themes of insecurity. graphic depiction but no occurrences of suicide. general dark themes. a/n: this might not be the ending you were all hoping for, but it's the ending my heart needed.

part 1 - part 2

~~~

the next week goes by in a blur.

you’re placed on administrative leave, or some bullshit, until it’s determined if you can be trusted to remain on the team.

trusted? you? after what you've done to the team, to yourself, to Bucky?

you've burned all those bridges by repeatedly breaking protocol, withholding information, explicitly lying when asked a direct question.

and what for, exactly? you can't pretend that it was to protect Bucky. not anymore. you've exploded your relationship with the love of your life for what reason, exactly?

how did you get yourself into this situation?

why did you do it?

you used to think that there was a part of you that could possibly be salvaged. that not every part of you was darkly corrupted, that maybe you could almost be a good person.

Bucky made you feel like a good person.

he was always there for you in the moments you needed him, reminding you of how much you meant to him, how he saw nothing but good in you. yet you never believed it.

so what did you do? you turned around and made him feel like nothing, like he could never be more than the murderer he used to be. like you didn't actually love him for who he was.

of course you did.

but clearly, he had been wrong. there wasn't a fiber of your soul that could be reconciled, and through your transgressions with the Winter Soldier, you'd irreparably hurt the man you loved.

even so, you can't help yourself from trying to fix it.

you call Bucky every day. a few times, even. you don’t go to his apartment. you know you’re not welcome, and you don’t even know if he’ll be there.

the marks left on your skin are a constant, painful reminder in the days following that you've ruined everything good in your life. you shouldn't be surprised, because when have you ever been able to hold onto something good?

the bruises on your skin will eventually fade, but not the ones imprinted on your heart. not if you can't fix this.

~~~

the second he walked down that hallway, walked away from you, he instantly regretted it.

of course this was all his fault. of course you didn't have a say in any of it, even if you tried to tell him you did. of course his alter ego had seen that Bucky finally had something good and had forced himself onto you to get the upper hand on him. to ruin his one good thing in life.

he'd ruined it.

he could never trust himself again.

every time you called, he raced to look at his phone. he never could answer, though; he sat, staring at your picture on the screen, praying it wouldn't go to voicemail just so he could continue looking at your face.

when he listened to said voicemails, he prayed they would never end just so he could hear your voice.

every time he dared close his eyes, images of you, covered in bruises that he caused, tormented him. thoughts that he hurt you plagued him, the scene of finding you, covered from head to toe in marks that he left, playing out like a horror film behind his eyelids.

it was hell on earth. the solution?

days passed in a blur, spending every waking moment in bed but never once letting himself sleep if only to keep himself from reliving the worst moment of his life.

he was a super soldier. he didn't get tired, could stand to go without sleep for longer than most people, right?

wrong.

the emotional pain coupled with the fact that he hadn't eaten in days exhausted him, his body eventually shutting down, sleep taking over.

visions he's never seen before play out in his head as he sleeps.

entering your apartment through your window. grabbing you by the waist with a strength he's never exerted on you before. thrusting into you so brutally and forcefully that you're crying out under him.

walking up behind you in a vaguely familiar kitchen. wrapping his arms around you and feeling your body tense up when he speaks. dipping a flesh hand below the waistband of your pants and slipping underneath your underwear. the same scene morphing into one of him behind you, on top of you. you, once again, crying.

~~~

feeling rough hands pinching and pulling at your skin. wrapping your lips around him as he forces himself down the back of your throat. repeatedly admitting his claim on you while metal fingers tighten around your neck.

you shoot up in bed, gasping for air as the ringing of your cell phone blares loud in the otherwise silent room.

2:57am.

you pick it up without hesitating.

"Bucky?"

"baby, let me in. I'm outside. please."

you're at a loss for words, dreams of the soldier still fresh in your mind as you try to process his words. he's here? this late?

is he crying?

you move down the hallway like a zombie, your legs cramped from being awoken mid-REM. "'m coming," you mumble through the line.

when you open the door, you're still not fully functional.

"it's the middle of the night," you say quietly, trying to force your eyes to wake up and look at him. you've been waiting for this for a week, to have the chance to talk to him, except now you're too sleepy to get any meaningful words out.

"I saw it all," he whispers.

you shake your head, the dots not connecting in your head as you try to process his words. he saw...

the visions. the dreams. what actually happened in those moments he lost. the moments you'd ruined your entire life for, just to keep them secret.

"I saw what he did to you," he tells you, the crack in his voice cutting through the haze of your tired mind. the pained sound feels like an ice pick being jabbed right through your heart.

"can we... can we talk about this in the morning?" you whisper to him. you're still tired, but now, you're wide awake.

except you can't stand to have this conversation with him, not yet. the one you've been dying for, been calling him on repeat in the attempt to make this very moment happen.

he's here, ready to give you what you've practically been begging for, and you can't do it.

you'd rather let yourself believe you still stand a chance.

"yeah. in the morning," he agrees.

your eyes have finally adjusted, which means you see the way he smiles at you sadly, the look of silent pleading in his bloodshot eyes. how he does look like he's been crying, how his whole body tremors.

you can't stand it.

you step back, opening the door enough for him to come in, and you stare up at him apprehensively as you wait to see what he does.

your prayers are answered when he takes a few weary steps forward and into your apartment.

he clings to you as you both lay in your bed, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as though he's worried someone is going to take you from him.

nothing could ever take you away from him.

you would fight to the death just for the chance to make things right with him. you'd slit your own throat and feel yourself slowly, painfully go to sleep as the blood seeped out just to be able to genuinely apologize.

since your first encounter with the Winter Soldier, you'd felt a million conflicting emotions: need. guilt. desire. dread.

you didn't deserve Bucky. you were too screwed up to be with someone as good as him.

as you drift off to sleep, it all begins to click in your mind.

~~~

you wake up before him the next morning.

he's still wrapped around you, his body heat like a furnace in the bed with you. it makes you feel so loved, so deserving of his love, when deep down, you know you aren't.

your whole body freezes the realizations you made the night previous resurface in your head.

Bucky stirs next to you and it jolts you out of your daze.

"baby? are you awake?" you whisper to him, brushing your fingers through his mussed hair.

he takes a deep breath in as his body rouses. "I missed you."

somehow, his words are a relief and an extra weight on your heart all at once. you watch as he pulls back, blinking his own eyes open before finally looking up into yours.

"I saw it all, in a dream," he begins, unwilling to wait any longer to finally get his words out. "I saw what he did to you. how I made you cry."

you're about to protest, tell him that it's not on him, that this was all your fault.

"but, you told me last week that you wanted it, and I just... why would you want me to hurt you? why would you want him to use you like that?"

your breathing stops.

"listen, it's not about you, Bucky. I need you to know that, okay?" you try to reassure him.

as the pieces all fit together in your head, you scramble to hold yourself together.

except this is Bucky. and you've already lied enough to him.

"the pain just feels good sometimes, you know? like, scratching an itch," you tell him honestly. that's the only way you can describe it. the only way you can explain to him that the pain is the only way everything else goes away.

except, you don't get the understanding answer you were hoping for.

"the pain feels good?" he says, face contorting in confusion. "why the hell would you say that?"

you're not prepared for him to get upset over your words. you try to backtrack, try to explain yourself as he sits up in the bed, pulling away from you.

"so all those years I spent in pain, all those years they spent torturing me, what? you think that was just fun for me? you think that sounds like your idea of a good time?"

no. no, that's not what you meant. how could he ever think that that is what you think?

"Bucky-"

"no," he responds, voice shaky. he flinches when you try to reach for him, kicking the sheets off and jumping from the bed. "all I ever wanted to do was protect you from him, from me. you shouldn't have let this happen."

he's right. you shouldn't have.

and yet, the response angers you far more than you anticipate.

"no, I shouldn't have," you retort through gritted teeth, voice raised, "but you're not listening to me. let me explain-"

"no. you've explained enough. I was just idiot enough to not listen when you showed me the truth." his response is equally as angry as your own, his voice pointed in a way you've never heard directed at you before.

"Bucky, I didn't mean for this to happen!" you try to reiterate, near yelling now as you try to get through to him. "I know it's my fault, and I know I'll never be good enough-"

"you were supposed to kill me!" he yells back, voice piercing through you as he cries, "you promised me!"

you see the tears begin to well up in his eyes as he deliberately stands away from you, holding a hand out in front of him as though to keep you away.

your eyes fall shut as your jaw stutters and lips tremble, trying to make sense of all of this.

"that's what you're upset about?" is all you can come up with, trying to speak as softly as possible so as to not aggravate him any further. "that I didn't shoot you when you turned?"

your chest hurts more than you've ever felt, worse even than you feel with the reminder of all the terrible things you've done that your nightmares continue to remind you of. the pain is so all-encompassing you can barely breathe, can hardly take oxygen into your lungs with the way your throat begins closing up on you.

"I don't know," he cries. "I just... I wish you'd done something. I wish you had told me how you were feeling. I wish you hadn't lied to me."

"I know," you whisper, slowly standing from the bed to approach him. "I know. I fucked up so bad, but I didn't want to ruin this, I..."

your voice trails off as you place your hands gently on his shoulders. you watch him hang his head, face contorted as though in pain, tears silently falling.

"you said you wished I had killed you. maybe you didn't explicitly say it's what you wanted, but I know you, Bucky. I do," you whisper to him. "and I could never do that, ever. not to you. not even to protect myself."

"baby," he begins, but you continue.

"I had the chance," you admit to him. "I knew what was happening. I had the shot, and I hesitated, because I couldn't bear to hurt you. but maybe... maybe I hoped you would kill me, too."

his head shoots up to look at you when you say that.

"obviously, he didn't kill me. he protected me. but when he showed up and did... what we did, it felt good because the physical pain let me escape. I guess the lines got blurred in my head because of that. it was all just a terrible, sad excuse for an escape from my own mind, from feeling like I wasn't good enough for you."

his own chest aches at hearing how you felt.

"I should have told you the first time. but all of it just started piling up on me, and I didn't know what to you."

"you could have talked to me," he pleads with you.

"no, I couldn't," you say, your own tears welling up in your eyes. "I tried to tell you just now how I felt, and..."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get mad baby, please," he says, hands reaching out to hold yours. "I get it. I do. I just can't trust myself to think straight, so hearing you say something like that..."

"and I've made that worse," you say, beginning to cry quietly. "that's my fault. I'm broken, Bucky, and I've hurt you because of it. I'm so fucking sorry I dragged you into my bullshit."

he gazes down at you, looking into your eyes, and he sees it. your fear, your pain, how he somehow managed to overlook it all and inadvertently gave way to this whole situation.

"come here," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you once more. "you're not broken. it's okay."

as you cry softly against his chest, you know his own tears are still falling.

"this isn't your fault," he whispers to you. "you were in pain. I wouldn't have been able to handle it if you had told me because I've been stuck with my own. I'm supposed to be there for you, but clearly, I don't know how to do that."

those words sit in the air, hitting your ears and filling your head with nothing but doubt.

"we're both so fucked up, Bucky," you whisper. "how are we supposed to be together? how do we find our way back?"

"I don't think we do," he whispers, and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

you can't be done. no. even with everything you've done, it can't be over.

"but maybe we can find a way forward."

~~~

you lay in bed once more, resting your head on his chest, your mind busy whirring as you contemplate what comes next. how you're supposed to learn to trust each other wholly, talk to each other honestly.

you've never been able to do that before, but your relationship with Bucky is more than worth trying.

"baby?" he whispers to you. you turn to look up at him, humming your acknowledgement. "can I see the bruises?"

you take a deep breath, wondering if this is a good idea, ultimately nodding and sitting up. you have to start somewhere, you suppose.

he sits up, too, and begins to reach for the hem of your shirt. you hold your breath as he pulls the fabric over your head; once your skin is bared to him, he rests his hands on your waist tentatively.

he hasn't touched you like this in so long. soft. gentle.

you don't deserve his delicate touches.

"Bucky," you hesitate, beginning to pull away.

"I love you," he whispers, his grip on you firm so you can't withdraw from him.

you take a shaky breath in and out. he's said it to you a million times before, and a million times, you realize now, you haven't let yourself feel it. believe it.

this is the first time the words really sink in.

"I love you, too," you whisper, forcing yourself to lean into his touch instead of pulling away once again.

the bruises have mostly faded away, a few of the deeper marks still remaining in small, discolored patches. he watches his hands as he runs his fingers over the few left on your hips, moving to trace the ones left on your neck.

this is what you thought you deserved?

you thought this was the only way to hide from the self-loathing thoughts that plagued your mind?

he's not angry anymore. he's determined.

you gasp sharply when he leans in to place soft, innocent kisses over the marks on your neck. the motion is so careful and deliberate, and you have to force yourself not to tense up.

he feels the urge to say something, to remind you how much you mean to him. how you don't have to be stuck in the past anymore. he doesn't say a word.

you let him lay you back on the sheets, your body finally relaxing as he kisses down your neck to your chest, all the way to the rest of the marks at your hips.

you want to cry, you think, from how emotional the scene is. just as you think you're safe from completely falling apart, he pipes up,

"no more hiding. not from me."

and the waterworks start all over again.

this time, you listen. you don't try to mask your pain or your fears. you let him hold your trembling self while you cry into his chest, and once the exertion exhausts you, he continues to keep you close as you sleep.

as you rest, he gently cups your face in one hand, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

how couldn't he still love you?

he vows to himself that he'll never let you doubt it again.

~~~

an hour later, your phone blares once again.

shit, he thinks, trying to reach for it to silence it before it wakes you. he's unsuccessful.

you stir in his arms, your body immediately grabbing for it before your brain can even catch up with the action.

"hello?" you say into the phone, voice hoarse after sobbing and subsequently falling asleep.

you hear a distinct voice on the other end of the line saying your name. you hadn't paid any attention to who was calling when you answered. you immediately shoot up and force your mind to wake up as you respond.

"Nat?" you ask, looking over to Bucky in your confusion. he follows your lead, sitting up next to you, equally as confused.

"how are you doing?" she asks you over the line.

"um, fine," you tell her, running a hand through your hair and clearing your throat. "what's going on?"

"listen," she begins, "I'm not supposed to be telling you this quite yet, but Steve is open to letting you come back."

you weren't expecting that.

"what? seriously?" you question.

"it's... on the table. he's not happy, but he's sympathetic to your situation."

she pauses, and you gape, trying to think of what to say next.

she continues, "this is all contingent on Barnes agreeing to it, of course, but Steve has yet to get ahold of him."

"yeah, he... hasn't been answering my calls either," you say, looking over to him as he sits next to you, rubbing your back as you talk. there's a small frown on his face, unable to hear the other side of the conversation.

you don't want to tell her anything yet. your relationship is so fragile right now; you and Bucky need the space to figure this out privately, on your own.

"well, I'll let you know once we have an answer. and, for what it's worth: hang in there, okay?" she tells you.

"yeah. thank you, Nat," you say, hanging up the phone. you stay there, staring down at the screen as you ponder what she's just told you.

"what did she say?" Bucky asks you after a moment.

"Steve might let me come back," you tell him solemnly, "assuming you're okay with it."

he hums his acknowledgement but doesn't respond just yet, continuing to rub your back as you both take in the information.

after a moment, he comments, "you don't sound particularly excited."

you tear your gaze away from your phone screen, which has inevitably gone dark by now, to look up at him with sad eyes. "I don't think I can go back," you tell him, "at least not now. not while I'm still..." you trail off.

"then I'm not either," he says without a second thought.

"what? no, you don't have to give up work just because-" you protest, but he quickly cuts in.

"why don't you want to go back?" he offers. "because of everything that happened?"

the way he says those words clues you in on the fact that he knows that isn't the reason why.

"no," you affirm. "I can't keep fighting, pretending that it's what I need to move on. it's just holding me back."

he brings a hand to run through your hair, holding the back of your head as his gaze roams over you.

"I'm not going back. we're gonna move forward together, you hear me?" he tells you, staring deep into your eyes as he says it.

you've lived a lifetime doing things you regretted, things you could never find penance for. people you've hurt that you'll never be able to make amends for.

deeds and lost lives you'll never be forgiven for.

because you're a monster.

the man in front of you, though, doesn't see you that way. he sees something more in you. he's willing, capable of forgiving you.

and that's more than enough for you.

"I love you, Bucky," you whisper.

he kisses your forehead once more.

"I love you, too. we're going to be okay."

you wholeheartedly believe him.

~~~

masterlist

join my tag list

bucky tag list part 1: (send an ask or dm to be removed)

@starfly-nicole @avengersfan25 @thewiselionessss @hextech-bros @a-book-lover-things @ruexj283 @mrsnikstan @sleepysongbirdsings @sapphirebarnes @multiversefanfics @winchestert101 @andziabarnes @chrisevansleftnipple @daisydark @luckyhornet @maryevm @avengemepercy @mandoloriancookie @starstruck-cowgirl @doubledizzy22 @yvespecially @shereadzzz @blaineandergel @flow33didontsmoke @iiamlynn @belovedmoony @tellybearryyyy @doilooklikeagiveafrack @analovesmarvel @izzy698 @ketchumid24 @annabethboleyn @luv4kook @buckyseternaldoll @planetzeidy @thegirlfatherr @cieraboobear @wint3rbarnes @quinnofdrama @jeannie-beannie @buckysslut @peaceinourtime82 @poiscntree @sooberrt @yaboyguzma69 @dragonsoverall @barnesonly @drxies @morgan-getty

[date-em-all]

Hi hi your Eddie drabble is spinning circles around my brain. I feel like I just gained sentience after reading it oh my goodness.

I used a guide for their route— but I definitely would’ve locked myself out of the romance ending because I’m very passive and would not have pushed to help LMFAOOO

you do NAWT have two tell my twice to gtfo Eddie I promise🙏. Moment he glares at me im like wilting on the spot, and I’d be like shucks man sorry to bother you 😭

Anywaus I love love love you’re writing and can’t wait to see what else you end up writing!!! 🫶

WAA I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it and look forward to more of my stuff :D! I'm going to be honest I also used a guide 😭 I went through the first interaction with Eddie and I was like....... okay goodbye never see you again i guess GAHAHAHA i'm noooot a pushy person at all so i would also just Never talk to him again LOL

That's why I enjoy the idea of sticking around Eddie a while (through something like cleaning) with little conversation, and you just kind of grow on him after a while. You're actually putting in effort around here, seemingly without ulterior motives, and your presence isn't grating on him like it is with many others. The fact that he's able to forget you're there in the first place, until you knock into something or water sloshes over the rim of your bucket of water, is a good thing, really.

Eventually, he can't help but look forward to your quiet company, and even the way you hum or mumble to yourself as you work becomes endearing.

But you're nervous around him, he can tell. You're walking on eggshells around him, trying to keep your distance and your head down. He knows you're kind of a nervous mess to begin with- Eddie has been in this house even longer than you, after all, and has picked up on tidbits about you that you'd never explicitly said out loud. This doesn't change the fact that the current situation is pretty much his fault. He was being a dick to you, the first time you spoke.

(The whole situation twists at a sore spot inside of him, at the whole reason his relationship with Volt is complicated to begin with. Because, of course, his 'other half' has no issues talking to you; and why should he? He's everything that Eddie had thought other people would want; charismatic in an effortless way, smiling easily and capable of sweeping just about anyone off their feet. It had been what he had wanted, in his own loneliness. But it's still a little embittering, sometimes, to see a part of himself, everything that Eddie fails to be, be the one people only ever want to see.)

It's up to him to fix it, this time. He knows that, and he'll try, despite the discomfort twisting in his gut. Eddie speaks to you, the dialogue rehearsed in his mind, the next time you wander near the bar, to empty out your bucket or wash the rag.

"We didn't... Exactly got off on the right foot," he says, tapping his finger on the top of the bar in a rapid rhythm. "Do you just want to start over?"

You blink owlishly at him before you give him a small, hesitant smile. "Uh, yeah. I'd like that. I... I just figured you didn't like me very much, so... Y'know. I thought I'd just let you do your thing."

"I don't hate you," Eddie says. "...You would've noticed if I had."

A loud snort leaves you, surprising even yourself, guessing by the hand you slap over your mouth. The smile is still audible in your voice when you speak.

"Mhm, okay. Sorry for misunderstanding the fact that you've been ignoring me for a week, then." There's a kind of relieved giddiness about you. You lower your hand and send him a smile that has his heart thud.

"I'm glad you don't actually hate me."

[medeaft]

When Emmeline left

Author's note: This is a short chapter (compared to the long time it covers) that loosely explains how Kai (the future Sire of my Bloodlines Tremere self-insert PC) got to Los Angeles, from when he became separated from his Sire, Emmeline. It doesn't describe Emmeline's adventures and the reason she had to leave... That is quite something and will deserve its own chapters. I've actually been sitting on this for a while, for as long as I had the drawing that I'm using as cover picture; I wrote most of this then. Right now I'm posting it because finally I made an appropriate divider for Kai and because I want to post it before the other chapter I will also post today.

Contents: vampires, conversation, friendship, Sire and Childe relationship, mentor and apprentice relationship, secrets, war (no detailed description)

Characters: Kai (future Tremere PC's Sire, viewpoint character of the scene); Emmeline (Kai's Sire); Regent Strauss

969 words

"Are you going to join the Sabbat?"

"No," says Emmeline. "Stop guessing, I'll just stop answering your guesses now."

"You could just tell me, you know. I won't tell anyone."

"I'm sure you don't intend to. I trust your intentions. But some Ventrue would pull it out of you anyway." She sighs and sits down beside me. "Believe me, I understand. You see a secret and you have to know what it is. It's the real clan curse. But this is how it's safer for you, so I'm not telling you."

"Will I ever find out?"

"Eventually, yes, if all goes well, I'll tell you when it's safe." She pats my shoulder. I assume I probably look pretty dejected and all, because she sighs a little and her voice takes on that tone like she's trying to figure out how to apologise without expressing regret, which she clearly can't do, because if she was regretting whatever she is about to do, she wouldn't be doing it. "I don't plan to leave forever, you know. I'll miss you too, and I wish I could tell you everything. But I promise you won't be alone."

"How long do you think you'll be away?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. Just don't worry too much, alright?"

"That's hard to do. I mean, it's not even about being left without my Sire. I know the clan will take care of me and teach me all sorts of things even while you aren't here, that's what we do, right?"

"Right."

"But you're also my friend, so obviously I'll worry, and you can't make me not to, so there." I stick my tongue out at her momentarily, and pull a face.

She chuckles, even though she still looks sad. "You're a good one, Kai. I won't forget you, and I do plan to be back eventually. And we'll still be friends, right?"

"Of course. What do you take me for? I mean, if you wanted me to no longer be your friend, you'd have to do some pretty extreme stuff, like, uh…" I can't come up with a single thing.

"Like stop being your friend?"

"Yeah, like that. And you won't do that anyway."

She smiles, and I can see some of her confidence back in it. "No, I won't do that." She pats my shoulder again. "Anyway, back to what you said about the clan - I actually asked someone to take you under his wing while I'm away. You know, so you have more of a guidance than just 'ask anyone'."

"Metaphorical wing, I hope? Or did you go all the way back to the Tzimisce roots?"

She laughs a little. "No, metaphorical wing. It's Strauss; you met him once."

Strauss is nice in an atrocity professor sort of way. He helps gently excise whatever moral qualms I have left from my previous human life. He wins me over really fast.

I occasionally get cryptic messages from Emmeline; I don't stop missing her - I mean, of course not, we are friends -, but it helps reassure me that she's thinking of me and things are going according to plan by and large; I worry about her still, but I settle into her absence.

Emmeline does return eventually, like she said she would. This is the time she tells me what she had done before disappearing; even in hindsight it worries me, but right now she is safe, and that is what matters. She also brings back findings: strange artefacts, and notebooks full of drawings and descriptions and wild conjectures: apparently, while she was hiding from the fallout of the things she had done, she used this time for a secretive expedition. She has a whole new area of study now, based around the implications of her new discoveries. We are appropriately amazed. She stays with us a while, and then she goes back to her research in various distant lands. She comes back every so often, spends some time with us, we discuss her findings and update her on ours; and then she goes off somewhere else. I stay with Maxi and await her return, never completely without worry, but still, now that I know the danger is mostly over and she's just going on expeditions and avoiding old adversaries, waiting for her when she is away is much easier. And even in her absence, I am among friends, at least.

By the time Maxi tells me he needs to go to Los Angeles to help with the Kuei-Jin war, it's obvious I'd manage without him just fine. "It may not be pleasant," he says. "You do not have to come unless you wish to."

"Of course," I say, "but I'm obviously coming." I'd go with him to a different galaxy if he had a spaceship.

I'm actually excited to see a new continent. And it's beautiful in its own way. It's not even marred by the war going on. I have seen war; it was awful. As strange as it is to say, this is not so bad. It's more like a bronze age sort of war, warriors against warriors, just trying to win, right? Weird to say it's not as destructive, monsters fighting monsters, but it's really not; there are city lights and seashores and land formations, and the war is happening in this place, not to this place. I don't think the humans even notice. And every morning I go home to a Chantry that I'm fairly sure is inviolable. There's fear and pain, and we do lose comrades, I think all war is probably sad; but there is always him, and I don't lose hope. And after the war is gone, there is still him, and there is still a new land to explore.

I have nothing to regret.

[alexa-yukiyu]

Hi!! I was wondering if you can do a trans male reader thats like maybe 12 or 13 with whitebeard pirates? Basically he realized that he is actually a boy and wants to tell everyone but Is way to scared to since it's always being commented on that he's the only daughter of whitebeard, and eventually everyone notices him acting weird and kinda recoiling when being called any type of fem terms. And you can shape the rest of the fic from that and of course if you don't feel comfortable writing this you can just ignore me!

Unsecretly Secrets ft Izou and Marco

A/N So, I got kinda down because I finished my hw in the afternoon and then had the afternoon free but I felt guilty I was just lazing around so I wrote a bit I din’t think I was actually gonna finish it but here we are! I want to thank @quinloki for betaing and making sure everything was respectful and while we’re at it go check em out, he’s actually doing an event right now so check em out (but mind the warnings and the uh, the different genres we write 😂)

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers both!

Consider Buying me a coffee!

Dokucha winced as they finished putting on his binder, watching himself on the mirror and frowning at the harsh way it tightened on his body.

"I outgrew it..." he huffed. It was beginning to become slightly painful as the months went by. With only one piece at his disposal and a body rapidly growing, it was only to be expected that this would eventually happen. Still, there was no way he would just toss it, not without any way or even assurance that he could get his hands on another one.

"Well, it's no use mulling about it," he waved off, popping a small pill from the container on his bedside table. He grabbed the nearest shirt to him and threw it on as made his way out of his cabin, pausing to take a deep breath, coming short of air at the sudden movements; he shrugged this off and glanced at the hallway, smiling at the pair standing there.

"Morning," he called, throwing Ace and Izou a smile as he joined the two in their walk to the mess hall.

"Was beginning to think you weren't gonna wake up at all!" Ace grinned, ruffling their head.

"Agh, cut it out!" he grumbled, trying to wrestle his older brother's hands out,

"Dahahah, can't help teasing my sister in the early morning! You're my favorite one after all," he joked, retrieving his hand

Dokucha lifted his shoulders in discomfort at his words, but decided not to comment, something that Ace and Izou noticed on the boy. Izou would take note of this reaction, but Ace misunderstood the action for a different emotion.

"Ha? Are you grumpy this early in the morning? Usually, you would already be snapping at me, 'I'm you're only sister'" he mocked

"Ha, I'm just hungry," he called, trying to laugh it off. An idea came to mind as he watched his brothers look at him suspiciously.

"If you're any slower, I'm going to eat all the food!" he exclaimed as he began running down the hallway, ignoring the odd tightening in his chest at the movement.

"Like hell you will!" Ace growled as he took after the teen, leaving behind a pensive Izou behind.

Dokucha groaned as they happily munched on another piece of bacon and turned to the chef.

"Thatch-nii!" He called happily, watching as the man glanced up at them briefly

"Please teach me how to make the bacon this way! It's so good," he called as they grabbed another piece.

"No way," he brushed off

"Hah?! Why not? Come on! I want to be able to make it when you're busy doing other things! Plus, we don't have it much"

"That's why! I know ya, Dokucha, and I know ya will sneak behin my back and make it at ungodly hours, it's not good for ya to eat too much of it," he admonished

"So ya can throw ya hissy fit but as a chef I will not be givin' ya somethin' I know will harm ya, not to mention I ain' lookin for a lecture" He brushed off as he absentmintedly gestured to Marco sitting with Izou nearby giving a nod of approval to the chef.

"Dokucha, I better not see you eating more of that than what he gives you-yoi. He knows what he's doing, and he gives you the portions that make it healthy. Any more, and you risk spending the night in the clinic," Marco piped in as he dug into his pineapple. Knowing how early the first mate was up and about, it wouldn't be surprising if he had his breakfast hours before, only stopping for his favorite snack.

"Okay," they grumbled, inhaling deeply. This prompted them to grab water from nearby and gulp it down.

"Slow down, kid," Fossa warned

"Sorry, I just got a little choked up, I guess." He grinned, wiping his mouth, missing the brief interaction between Izou and Marco. The former gently nudged the doctor and whispered something in his ear as they glanced at the snickering teen.

"Well, I'm off to do my chores!" He called as he stood up from the bench and made his way onto the deck.

"Don't overdue it, wouldn't want our girl to get hurt," Haruta jested

"Ha...will do," he grumbled as he made his way to the ropes, ignoring the questioning glances of his family, beginning to work on the knot, slightly dejected.

"Marcoooo," Dokucha drawled, extending the last syllables of the name teasingly as he made his way into his brother's medic bay.

"You called for me?" he asked, sending a questioning glance at Izou, who stood next to the man.

"Yes-yoi have a seat," he gestured to one of the nearby chairs

"Not on the medical bed this time? Am I in trouble?" he questioned, attempting to make it sound like a tease, but his tone betrayed his nervousness at the situation.

"Dokucha, I do hate to intervene without you bringing the subject first; however, I have noticed that it has begun to affect your health, and although I don't have any intention to put you in the spot, I cannot allow you to unknowingly put yourself at risk," Izou started

"W-What are you talking about?" he stuttered out, dread filling him

"Dokucha-yoi, Izou and I have begun to notice certain...choices that you have made that, although alone, are not a cause for concern, together they have put you at risk," Marco continued, pulling out a familiar set of pills and placing them on his desk within eye distance of the boy.

"I-I can explain," he muttered

"You don't have to-yoi"

"What?" he muttered, head snapping at the two, watching the gentle smiles that the two sent his way.

"Like I mentioned before, I hate to intervene so we will not intervene more than we have to and that includes giving you all the time you need, we just have to discuss some of the ways you express yourself and try to choose better options, one's that won't put you ar risk"

"You..know? And you don't care?" he questioned

"We do-yoi," Marco corrected, causing Dokucha's heart to plummet as he braced himself for the worst.

"We do care about you expressing yourself and being confident in being who you are," Izou stated as he kneeled in front of the shocked teen.

"You're not mad that I'm not a girl? B-But you guys have always said how much you loved having a little sister."

"We love having a younger sibling, a happy and confident one; you will always be our baby sibling, regardless of what gender you are; girl or boy, we still and will always love you."

"T-then?"

"You have been having trouble breathing, yes?" Marco questioned, though the way he had uttered it made it seem more of a statement rather than a question

"Yes, but how did you know?"

"Dokucha, you are talking to commanders of the Whitebeard crew, a doctor and a sniper no less; the others might not have it completely figured out, but you cannot escape my eyes or Marco's instincts."

"Let's start with the binding situation-yoi"

"Please don't make me take it off!" he suddenly cut in.

"Don't worry. Like I said, we are not here to change who you are, but we do want to change the way you express yourself into safer options.

The binder that you are currently wearing is putting your breathing at jeopardy because of its size, so we will have to find one that fits you presently you-yoi"

Marco explained as he made few annotations in a nearby chart, ignoring how his little brother had gaped at him.

IN addition, we have to work on your diet; bacon is high in histamine, not to mention nitrates, which have been worsening the breathing symptoms. And finally, we will have to look for alternate puberty blockers, the ones you are currently using have been affecting your hormones in a way that has been exacerbating the symptoms as well."

"Wait, Wait!" Dokucha fussed as they shot from their chair.

"Is something the matter?" Izou questioned

"Yes, something is the matter! I have been hiding this all this time, only to be told you guys knew, and suddenly, I go from hiding it at all costs to sitting in a clinic and hearing you just casually list alternatives!?! I mean, am I the only one who finds that concerning?!"

"I'm more concerned how you got access to these pills," Marco muttered, much to Dokucha's exasperation

"Dokucha," Izou called, snapping the teen out of his rambles as he placed a hand on his head

"We still love you, you are still our sibling. After this, if you are ready, we would like to hear more about who you are."

"We are here for you-yoi, we won't push you to tell anyone until you are ready, we only brought it up as we were concerned; you are in control of your life and we are here to support you in your decisions-yoi"

"....thank you," he mumbled, wrapping his hands around Izou as sobs began leaving him.

"Thank you," he cried out. Despite the crying that echoed around the bay, the place did not feel sad but rather had a warm atmosphere filled with acceptance.

Here we goooo!

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[reddevilmcnt]

He'd done it-------------- broken Harper, maybe even more than just a little. And he could tell that he'd done it by the way that panic had melted into absolute obedience... which Slade didn't trust to remain, as he knew Harper a little too well, and he had to be thorough. Brutal. This is what he gets for ever talking back in the first place. Slade thrusts into that sopping wet mouth until Harper's reddened cheeks swell, engorged head of his largely imposing, largely throbbing dick hitting at the back of Harper's throat. Always testing how deeply he could go until that gag reflex kicked in, a jump of frantic energy running through Harp that Daddy could feel just through the nerves of his hefty cock. The rhythmic squelch squelch squelch of Harper being ruthlessly mouthfucked was joined by the loud slaps of his heavy balls on the boy's chin, Harp's wonderful hole of a throat milking that large cock so good that Slade had to ask why, in the back of his mind, didn't he decide to just take this throat sooner. He looked down at Harper's wrecked face (full of tears and smudged makeup) without the faintest touch of concern, just a big mean smirk that spelled, Yeah, still Daddy's whore and always will be.

It was a nasty mean way of feeling tethered to Harper again, but it didn't just get Slade's cock all wet and excited---------------- seeing his pet literally drooling over his cock again shot the best kind of warmth right up towards Slade's toned chest. Because this was a part of longing, too. And after he'd pumped his cock with that plush mouth enough times to make Harper look like he was barely conscious, he felt a familiar explosive itch behind his lower abdomen finally, but was tightening his muscles, jaw, and fingers in Harper's hair just to hold off for as long as possible. To make Harper feel like just a thoroughly used hole for as long as possible. But, with time, he eventually couldn't keep holding himself back, and had to make the swift decision of shooting his load across Harp's face in the ultimate act of humiliation... or cumming down his too-perfect throat. The thought of forcing Harper to drink his cum when he was already scared and choking was actually too compelling to pass up, and one, two, three harsh jerks of powerfully athletic hips later, and Slade's groin was pressed flush with Harper's lips as his fat cock twitched and spasmed. Ecstasy spreading through Slade's sinewy physique while his tip shoots the hottest load of sticky white cum straight down Harper's throat, and the grip on the boy's hair doesn't allow him to scamper away from it at first.

"Fuck... ah... you better fucking swallow."

What a good bitch. A good boy.

Slade doesn't say it though; there remains a spark of hidden anger behind the beautiful browns of his eyes even with him being slightly more spent. His cock sloshes out with ease after that, dripping a filthy mix of Harp's saliva and his own seed. It's good-------------- not enough, but just good, and while he's caught up in the moment? He almost doesn't register the crowd around him as he reaches for Harper's chin again, makes Harper look up like one obedient puppy, thumb stroking almost affectionately along the line of Harper's quivering jaw. Before he can breathe another word, however, one of his closest buddies makes his approach, this time offering Slade what looks to be a long silver knife.

"Alright. You got your rocks off, but he's still not supposed to be here and he's definitely gonna snitch after you just publicly slutted him out, so we can't let him leave. You know what we have to do, boss."

Yet, Slade doesn't seem too moved by the thought of having to kill Harper and discard of the body. The big man just calmly goes about tucking his cock into his boxers again, readjusting the waistband of his pants. "Fine," he rasps after some casual deliberation, as if having to do this meant nothing to him at all, "But not here. Help me move the boy."

And that was how they ended up at the second location: an abandoned warehouse crouched behind the site of the old racing meet. It was a place they'd often used to drag in enemies and traitors posing as friends-------------- perfect for stringing Harper up against a pillar in the dark. His thin arms were circled around it, wrists bound tightly together with thick rope that would take actual tools to cut through. Slade told the other boys to leave them alone here once that was done, and then it got very quiet. "Looks like it's just us again," husky tones sighed out, much calmer than Slade's earlier burst of rage, though the roughened want within his voice certainly hadn't lessened at all. He was going to rape this dirty bitch, and that way? Harp would never be able to stop thinking about him... would never be able to fuck someone else without remembering Slade's most intimate violation of him. He creeps up behind of Harper and grabs at the waistband of his bottoms, yanking them down around tiny ankles, until the boy's just in fishnet and girly panties. It's so sexy to watch that Slade feels a huge pulse in his cock again----------------- still thick, hard, aching for a slutty hole to breed. "Mm..." He hums in Harper's ear, disgustingly pleased with himself as he slides the knife underneath one strap of Harper's panties. One flick of the wrist... and it's gone, then he attacks the other, and the fabric slips onto the dusty warehouse floor without ceremony. Leaving all that warm, gushy pussy out, and Slade yanks his cock free, shoving a knee between Harper's thighs to hold them open. He brushes the tip against Harper's soaked slit, hissing between clenched teeth at the heat, the slickness. "You wouldn't be this wet if you didn't want me touching you. ...Admit it, you love it when I rape you." This beautiful pussy was the same hole he once swore he'd never touch so they'd never have to deal with an unwanted pregnancy scare. But now? He was consumed with breeding his slut the right way finally, even if it was violent and had Harper fighting against him the whole time.

Harper had no idea where this would end or why Slade was so mad at him. Slade had been the one to leave him. Slade had punished him by abandoning him. And now here he was, being punished all over again for some crime he didn't even know he had committed. It wasn't like he had gone out looking for Slade, trying to flaunt himself in front of the man, no, that had been a rather unfortunate accident. Now he was on his knees, seconds away from being brutalized by the man who had caused him to slump down into this depression in the first place. He didn't think that he deserved to be treated this way, but then it didn't seem like Slade was going to listen to him if he tried to argue against this.

The worst part of it all was the way everyone else just stood around and watched... no, they didn't just watch. They enjoyed it. They wanted to see Harper ruined and broken. It caused a tightness in his chest, and he felt completely and utterly alone. No one was going to rescue him. No one was going to save him. Slade was the one person whom he could always run to if he needed help, but now that Slade was the person he had to run from? He didn't have anywhere to go. Even if he could, by some miracle, break free and get away, what good would it do? There was nowhere he could go, nothing he could do that would protect him from what was going to come next. Harper was quickly coming to the realization that the only thing he could be in this equation was a victim.

Harper knew he wasn't dumb. He was clever and quick-witted, and he was worth more than his body. Yet hearing Slade talk down to him like this, calling him dumb and saying there were no thoughts in his head stung. He knew how people saw him and while he might pretend not to care, he had always fought against being labeled as some kind of brainless slut. But now he was wondering if Slade ever saw anything more in him than his body. He had always convinced himself that there was something special between them, but if that was true, Slade wouldn't be doing this, right? So surely it was all made up in his head. He didn't care if people thought he was a slut or a whore, but realizing that he had misread the entirety of his relationship was harrowing for Harper.

Harper winced as his hair was suddenly tugged on. He let out a sharp yelp, looking up at Slade with fear. There was no more defiance in his eyes, only terror. He knew what was going to come next, but even that couldn't have prepared him for what it felt like to have every last inch of Slade's godly cock being forced down his throat. Any cry or gag that would have come out was muffled by just how full his throat was being stretched open. There was an immediate panic that appeared on Harper's face, struggling against the men holding him so that he might be able to escape from the painful stretching in his throat.

Harper wondered if Slade was going to keep him here until he suffocated. He couldn't breathe, and the only sensation he truly felt was pain. As his face was forced into the man's pubes, Harper's sense of smell was taken over by the musk of Slade. The longer the cock stayed in his throat, the more Harper began panicking. His vision was starting to black out, and Harper was thankful. Maybe if he wasn't conscious, it wouldn't be that bad. He had always been fine with Slade using him in his sleep; maybe he could just pretend that was all this was. Sadly he wasn't so lucky and right before he was about to pass out, Slade was pulling his cock out, allowing Harper to desperately gasp for breath. Tears were streaking down his eyes, the dark eyeshadow he had been wearing now smudged to hell and running down his cheeks.

His head snapped to the side violently as he was smacked, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, looking confused and stunned. He looked back up at Slade, his throat once again being slip open. Only this time, he didn't struggle. Maybe it was because he was so used to obeying Slade, or maybe it was the fear of what the man might do to him, but either way, the fighting was done. Perhaps the most humiliating part of it all was the fact that, for a moment, when the other had pulled out and his scent had flooded Harper's senses, he had felt comforted. How was it that the man could literally be raping him in public and Xander was still hung up on the man? Maybe he truly was the pathetic, brainless, weak nothing that Slade painted him as.

[danieyells]

PC: I'm feeling watched. . . .

PC: (shines their phone flashlight into a dark corner)

Rui, no longer fully hidden by darkness:

[dkettchen]

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sukunasweetheart]

hear me out on bully!sukuna okay...

warnings; highschool setting, DUBCON, dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, sex in a confined space, semi-public sex, breeding, sukuna is kinda mean but is a simp at the same time, groping, cum in panties, just lots and lots of cum, "just the tip" he lied, mentions of pregnancy risk, ?cheating, sukuna the toxic tsundere but is horrendously down bad and perverted, eventual or mildly submissive sukuna?, this isn't gonna be the healthiest relationship - but its to be expected tho bc its a bully fic so..

Word count; 5.5k

bully!sukuna bothers you because he has a weird complex with you - preferring to be outright hated by you rather than deal with indifference or facing possible rejection.

it's often teetering on the edge of actual bullying; his existence is more of a nuisance than a serious distress to you.

he often loves getting on your nerves by tripping you up with his foot, only to catch you himself, or he purposefully bumps into you in the hallways making you almost topple over - like the fucking asshole he is. and you'll never forget the time you happened to get paired up with him on an assignment and the bastard had the audacity to try and take you both down by not doing his part. in exchange for his participation, he had you carry his bag for him around school for a week...

and he only gets more thrilled the more you fight back or retaliate.

sukuna likes to call you names, often using very condescending and colourful insults against you. and he likes to harass and chase off any potential boyfriends that come your way. that last one pisses you off the most. you want a boyfriend so bad, and that bastard is being such a huge cockblock. god forbid a girl wants to get laid. all your friends have had their first times already - why can't you?!

and he's back at it again too, after finding out that another guy confessed to you at school today. you accepted it. obviously when he wasn't watching. for a damn reason.

he finds out your last class was P.E today and you find yourself cornered in the locker room, empty of girls except for you. you ended up lagging behind as you were texting your new boyfriend over your phone after class. you try to walk past him to go home, but he traps you against your own locker.

you end up snapping back at him, having had enough of it.

"what is wrong with you? you know what? i think you're obsessed with me!" you shout back, shoving at his chest.

"who do you think you are, to stop me from getting a boyfriend... what, do you like me or something?" you speak without thinking, in a fit of anger.

"i bet you do! i bet you go home every night and jerk off to daydreams of me. is that right?" you go off, pushing every button you can.

sukuna falls silent. you expect him to argue back, to deny all your claims fiercely, and then go storming off, having heard enough of your nonsense.

but he's glaring at you, tight lipped, ears and cheeks turning bright red.

"...why're you silent all of a sudden? say something..." you continue awkwardly. "don't tell me... you actually...?"

"shut up," he hisses at you. "just shut up, for a second."

he wears an expression you've never seen on him before, and seems to be thinking about what to say next. he looks as though he wants to say something.

you open your mouth to tell him 'nevermind', but the sound of a small group of girls approaching the locker room is audible, which interrupts the both of you, and you panic. just what kind of rumours would spur on if they caught you and sukuna like this in here? you only just got your first boyfriend, there's no way you're gonna let this bastard ruin that for you!

thinking quickly, you open up your locker and roughly push sukuna inside, and then jump in after him. you shut the locker door quietly and peek outside through the little gaps at the top. the girls come in, having come back to get something that they left behind. what terrible timing.

one of the girls walk up a little close to your liking and you end up moving your body back as far as you can, your back pressing up against sukuna without thinking. and then you're startled by the low and quiet groan you hear behind you.

whipping around, you see sukuna with clouded eyes and a tightened jaw, barely able to fit inside this narrow locker. but he doesn't find it in himself to feel uncomfortable or annoyed at the situation.

after all, your ass is pressed up tightly against his growing bulge right then and there.

you were right about what you'd said earlier. he'd always daydreamed of a moment like this, pumping his cock at the thought of doing lewd things with you...

you turn back to the front, panicked. what the fuck? why does he look... like that?

kinda hot...

shaking your head, you try to ignore your beating heart, praying that the girls exit the locker room soon so that you can quickly escape from this situation.

meanwhile, sukuna's hands struggle to keep away from you as his brain begins to short circuit, dick helplessly twitching in his pants, chest heaving but it being of no help - as the locker fills with the scent of you in it, the sweetness of your shampoo and perfume, making his heart pump harder.

you slowly shuffle forward a little, trying not to lean against him so much. when are these girls leaving... you think to yourself. they've started gossiping amongst themselves, sitting on the bench. goddamn it!

large hands fall onto your hips and pull you back toward him. you feel him grinding his crotch against your ass, and you know that whatever is poking you is definitely his fucking boner.

"what the fuck, sukuna? s-stop," you whisper to him as quietly as you can.

sukuna has stopped his thinking in itself entirely. whatever's making him act right now is nothing but his pure and selfish desires. there's no way he can resist you when you're the one who climbed inside your own locker with him. he needs to relieve his ache somehow.

he gets more and more handsy with you as each minute passes. his large hand snakes up to fondle your clothed tits as he continues to discreetly dry hump your ass.

you should be disgusted. you should jump out right now and snitch on him and call him a molester right in front of these girls.

but good god, this feels like... nothing you've felt before. his wandering hands. his immense horniness. this tight enclosed space. the size of his boner. it's all making you excited in a weird way, and you're starting to feel aroused at your core.

sukuna is doing his best to get some pleasure from this minimal friction he's getting inside his tight space, but it's not enough. the desperation and arousal claws at him, his dick hurting from how tightly it's sitting in his pants. he swallows on nothing.

fuck it. he's already started. why hold back now?

you feel a shift behind you and the sound of fabric and a zipper being undone. is he...?

you gasp softly when something hot and hard gets pushed between your thighs. it's... it's pulsing. you can't believe this is happening. with sukuna, out of all people? should you be mortified or intrigued? you fear that the latter might be truer.

there's ringing in his ears. not a single logical thought is occupying his brain as he thinks purely with his dick at the moment, having waited so long for a moment like this. fuck, he's so hard. and it only excites him more that you haven't leapt out of this locker yet, running away from him. even though you could. his heart is on the verge of beating it's way up to his throat.

small, shallow thrusts. you feel his heavy cock rub up against your inner thighs, and both of his large hands are now groping your clothed breasts lewdly. he unbuttons your blouse, and then messily pulls down your bra, as he's desperate to feel the real thing, and you can't muster the strength to swat him away. when his fingertips tease your nipples, you have to stop yourself from making any noise. you've always wanted someone to touch you there...

never did you know that someone would be sukuna. you grab his wrist in a fit of desperation.

"you're a fucking pervert... what the hell are you doing?" you tell him a tad bit loudly, trying to deny the heat in your cunt.

"... did you guys hear something?" one of the girls suddenly ask outside.

your heart drops to your stomach as this sets off a panic inside you again. a big, warm hand clasps over your mouth, shushing you effectively.

"quiet..." he mumbles into the shell of your ear, and it weakens your knees. it never occurred to you that he's always had an attractive voice. a wave of goosebumps wash over your skin.

you look down. you can get a tiny peek of his tip whenever he thrusts in... it's so fucking big. you can't possibly fit that inside you, could you? when you catch that it's glistening with precum, your pussy squeezes around nothing.

one hand still over your mouth and the other teasing your tits, sukuna is busy slowly chasing an orgasm, regardless of the girls that have gotten a little wary outside. they soon forget about it and continue their pointless chatter.

fuck... his cock is so close to your cunt. the thought of it makes him shudder. he's almost there.

your hands are semi-clawing at his hand that's still against your mouth, when you suddenly feel him cease the incessant groping at your breasts. instead, it goes under your skirt - a finger loosening your panties up to fit his fat cock beneath the flimsy fabric.

there it is. your bareback fuckin' pussy. he has to bite his own lip to hold off groaning out loud. he does his best to slide his dick in and out against your slit - being restricted in movement due to the tight space, but make doing somehow.

you're actually thankful for his hand covering your mouth up, as you would've definitely moaned out loud if it weren't for him. it's unreal how turned on you are right now. does he feel it? all the slick pouring out of you? it's so, so strange. you were so sure that you didn't want this with him before, but not anymore...

it grazes over your clit over and over, painfully teasing, and you need to orgasm so badly.

sukuna jolts his hips against you, giving a final short thrust as his tip catches the fabric of your panties - he presses his own face against your neck to effectively silence himself as he reaches his first high.

you shudder as his dick pulsates between your thighs so strongly, making a hot mess in your underwear, cum spilling out in thick ropes - you feel the heat of it on your poor cunt, and you shiver as sukuna inhales deeply against your neck, his breathing wavering, dick aching for more even as it continues to spill heavily, creaming your panties. his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, causing you to shiver.

it's a pleasure that's greater than he could've ever given himself alone. but he wants more. he needs more.

you're in the middle of trying to gather yourself again, but you again, feel him moving his hips. just what is he up to now...?

your eyes widen when you catch onto how he's trying to thrust himself inside you now. there's no way... you struggle against him but he holds you still - mouth still firmly silenced by his palm.

the best he can do is have the tip inside. but for now, it's enough. he doesn't care - as long as he can get whatever pleasure that's available...

"j-just the tip..." he whispers with the smallest voice he can manage, against your ear again. it turns you on so good.

you can't help but enjoy when he gropes at your chest again, his tip bullying it's way in your desperate and wet hole, popping in and out, in and out, in and out.

even with just the tip, you're about to lose your mind. you want more, but at the same time you're scared what'll happen to your mind if he shoves that whole thing inside you.

sukuna's brain is yet again short circuiting as he dips the tip of his cock into your hot and slippery cunt - making him feral and desperate to get deeper. yet, what's stopping him is this confined space that suffocates him. there isn't enough oxygen for both of you here, and he wonders whether it's you or the lack of oxygen that's making him endlessly breathless.

oh, he's close again.

he's going to cum again, but this time inside. you want to protest, but you've always wondered... does it feel good to have it spill inside? regardless, you still try to struggle against him purely because you don't like the thought of sukuna knowing that you're enjoying this. even though it's already too late.

he holds you so tightly against him - before letting himself loose once again - tip poking into your pussy as he pumps inside, balls clenching. your hole is welcoming, and it puckers around him mind numbingly, milking his heavy cock for everything he has. you feel the warmth of his seed reaching inside you but not very deep - most of it trickles back out onto your panties. he twitches against you harder and more intensely, hips shoving into you messily.

you're both out of breath...

...and that's when both of you hear the girls leaving the locker room with muffled laughter, successfully avoided noticing you and him inside.

they turn the lights off before they leave, and the locker room turns dark and silent. you're now sweating against sukuna - and the moment you feel his hands loosen against you, you push the locker door open and step outside, unsure of what exactly you're trying to run from. sukuna himself? or the fact that you might be forming some kind of attraction to him? to the way he treats you?

but alas, no matter how fast you think you are, you could never beat sukuna's reflexes. in that quick momentum, he's pursued you outside and grabbed your arm - before pulling you back and shoving you against the now closed locker door.

"where do you think you're going?" he asks with a deep and low voice, vein popping on his forehead and looking desperate and an intense blush being permeated on his face. why is it that it's always made you feel so squirmy, whenever he cornered you like this? the size difference, the strength difference... the pervert here is not only him, it seems.

your needy gaze flutters from his eyes down to his exposed cock. it's veiny, throbbing, and leaking messily. it looks heavy and most importantly... it's so fucking big.

in the blink of an eye, sukuna has hiked your legs up, holding you up against the lockers, making it so that you cannot run from him again. it's game over.

"having the nerve to try and run after seducing me with your ass..." sukuna mutters angrily, lining his dick above your cunt and tummy, showing off how deep it'll reach if he slid it inside.

"no- i didn't..." you protest weakly, heart hammering with excitement. "idiot... let me down."

you tell him, despite your arms that loop around his neck.

"your voice is lacking it's usual sharpness," sukuna tells you breathlessly, flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties aside. it's still wet with his previous loads. oh- he can't think straight.

"wait-! something that big won't fucking fit!" you tell him, only now the fear beginning to hit you. moreover, you're afraid he'll end up breaking you and stop all rational thinking - this is dangerous.

"it will. i'll mould the shape of your insides to my fuckin' cock," sukuna insists, eyes focused on your wet glistening pussy. so pretty.

he pushes it in. but he doesn't stop there. he pushes it in all the way. balls fucking deep.

your eyes widen and when he thrusts the whole thing in one go, you well and truly break. legs trembling, pleasure washes over you and you cry out a moan.

"fuck-! did you just cum? are you cumming?" sukuna asks, panting, slowly sliding himself in and out as your cunt spasms around him. soon enough, he speeds it up and makes sure his tip is bullying your cervix with each deep thrust, eyes rolling back as your walls welcome him so warmly and clamp down on him.

"haah- haah- mm, fuck! you're so fuckin' tight! ugh, 'm gonna bust again," he slurs messily, hips moving non-stop. the unkempt bush of his pubic hair gives friction against you adding onto your strange sensations of pleasure. drool begins to roll out from the corner of your mouth.

his balls have never felt heavier as they slap against your wet ass each time he slams his cock inside, slick pooling out of you and creating droplets on the floor. he has a lot to give you... and your cunt is being so agreeable, the way it sucks on him, warm and wet. it's turning him animalistic, no thoughts running inside his brain except to fucking breed this hole. breed you.

not inside... not inside... you think, not realising that you're not saying it out loud.

"i'm gonna do it inside. i'm gonna-!" he hisses, hips stuttering at the last second.

"ugh- shit! 'm c-cumming... fuuck... fuck!" sukuna cusses deeply, thighs trembling as he continues giving tiny, but sharp thrusts even as he's spilling into you while buried to the hilt.

it's hot. you can feel that it's thick. there's so much. even more than his two previous loads. sukuna's face being twisted in pleasure puts you in awe - and you unknowingly tighten your pussy around him as he orgasms inside, joined to you hip-to-hip.

he's never felt such a deep seated pleasure in him before. he continues to gasp and shudder with every stringy spurt that he knows is reaching your womb. what if he actually knocks you up? what if his seed takes? it's a scary but thrilling thought. the thought of you swollen with his baby... all rational thinking has been thrown out the window due to this pleasure.

sounds that you never could've imagined coming out of sukuna continue to spill from his lips... he slides his cock in and out and squeezes every last drop out of himself, and he suddenly brings his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. both of you pant over each other while making out messily as he slowly begins to thrust into you over and over again. he's going to get addicted to this. he's going to crave your pussy everyday from now on.

sukuna sucks on your tongue like he wants to swallow it. your arms hold onto him for dear life.

all too suddenly, he brings you off the locker, arms hooked under your legs and palms supporting you by holding onto your ass cheeks.

the kiss breaks, and catch sight of sukuna's lust-filled eyes as he moves you up and down his cock using his monster-like strength. and you're held up by him like this, you can't do anything to stop him. just cling onto him and take what he gives you.

"f-fuck, sukuna... ooh-! t-too deep," you mumble with tears in your eyes, gasping from the way his tip kisses your womb effortlessly. he's seriously too big for his own good.

"keep saying my name like that- it'll only make my dick harder," he pants, continuing to use your pussy like a fleshlight. his thick load has made it even wetter. he can feel your slick beginning to cream up around the base of his cock now, and it makes his chest well up with something like pride. does he turn you on that good? this hole of yours refuses to run out of lube.

the absurdly obscene plap plap plap sound of flesh against flesh, makes for the lewdest echo in the locker room. that, paired with the mild darkness, and the possibility of being seen by someone coming in during after-school hours, makes for the perfect thrilling atmosphere for such feral sex.

it's driving you mad. the echoing, the subtle anxiety, the smell of his sweat.

it's marvelous...

another orgasm hits you like a bullet train. gasping, you whimper as he continues fucking you through it this time, relentlessly thrusting into you regardless of your pulsing walls.

"shit... your cunt's clinging to me," sukuna groans, feeling blessed to see you get undone by him, by his cock. the fingertips of his large hands against your ass sink deeper, the pleasurable knot in his stomach getting tighter once again.

"you and your uselessly big dick... fuck you," you chide breathlessly, doing your best to keep your sentences clear even as he plunges into you with an unforgiving pace.

"clearly not useless when it's made you cum twice now, right?"

"shut up-"

you get cut off when he begins to thrust faster, as you witness the very moment sukuna's eyes become blank with pleasure, getting ready to empty his balls again.

"slutty fuckin' cunt. latching onto me so greedily... can't stop- thrusting-" he mumbles, gripping onto your ass tighter.

you can't help but sigh with pleasure when he begins to fill you up again, twitching and pulsing like crazy inside you as he spills so much seed like he's peeing.

"ohh, shit... cumming s-so hard..." he breathes out shakily.

you're starting to feel full. but you get the feeling that this still isn't the last one. desperate kisses are pressed against the side of your neck as he takes some time to relax a little again, thoroughly finishing deep into you, hips jolting every now and then.

he carries you over to the bench in the middle of the room, where he lies you down and brings your knees closer to your chest, fully exposing your cunt to him, whole. his dick still squeezed into you.

with a hoarse shaky groan, he slowly drags his thick cock in and out of you in this position, with only the heavens knowing how he is still hard after so many orgasms.

you give a small yelp as he speeds up - your plush walls embracing him warmly and filling up his balls once more. god, he doesn't think he'll ever have enough of this pussy. of you.

"idiot! e-enough.. take it out... i'll get- pregnant-" you warn him not-so-convincingly, with gasping moans between each word.

"c-can't... you're... sucking me in so good... can't stop-" sukuna replies with no thoughts in his brain other than to relieve the throb in his erection again. it's driving him up a wall, too. the flesh of your ass that softens the impact everytime he drives his hips into you. your squeals and whines of euphoria. your exposed breasts and glistening clit. he burns every detail into his brain, to make sure he remembers forever...

he doesn't even know what number round this is, but it amazes even him how he feels like he's already edging close to another climax. it's pathetic and ridiculous of him. but he can't help the fact that you push him over so easily.

the number of tissues he'd run through just from jerking off every time he thought about you all night... you have no clue.

recalling those moments makes him feel even more determined to chase this final orgasm even more rigorously. it won't be difficult, not with how your cunt swallows him up so nice.

"fuck.... i- i like you. i've always liked you..." sukuna mumbles out the sudden confession slowly.

"stupid... bastard... you say this now...?" you say as you sigh in pleasure, almost being close to your own climax as well, this position setting off yet another deep arousal in you. after all that bickering and tormenting - he has the audacity to confess to you? only after cumming inside multiple times?

"can't give any excuses can i?" he voices with a curt laugh - finding himself to be pitiful in this moment as well.

"but it's true... i- fuck- i like you so much..." he groans, hips getting faster.

your eyes begin to blur with tears again... sukuna thumbs your clit gently... and then you arch your back with a gasping squeal. sukuna too, hisses as he pumps you full for a final time, letting his dick drain itself in your fluttering hole, hips and thighs jerking uncontrollably while his tip leaks spurt after spurt through your cervix, overflowing you to the maximum.

after dumping his final load, he slowly drags his large, twitching cock out of you with a pop and lets it rest against your gaping cunt, pulsing weakly against your clit. his thumb pushes your panty lining aside to keep your pussy exposed for him to see. your hole is still gaping and thrumming, as if missing him already and he's watching with awe as big globs of his spend trickle out of you thickly. if he wasn't so exhausted, the sight of this would've made him hard again.

sukuna lets go of you and lets your legs rest on the bench, as you're still panting from the exertion, mind numb from that last orgasm. he seems to loom over you for a second, before leaning down, arms caging you against the bench, knee between your legs, to kiss you on your glossy lips. it feels good, but you wouldn't want to admit that out loud to him.

"i like you." he repeats again, after breaking away from you. he wonders why it had taken him so long to admit this fact. once he got it out, it became an easy thing to say. you look at his face and he looks so pathetic in your eyes, the usual look of cockiness and mischief being wiped away. he says it as if he's pleading you, and you know what he's asking for, what he's unable to say out loud. he probably wants to be your boyfriend.

it's strange to see the puppy eyes of your literal arch nemesis, and it's also strange to hear his voice give you a love confession. it makes you mad. it makes you angry. not because you hate it, but because you don't hate it.

he sees it. he sees the instant your eyes glint with anger, and he very swiftly dodges the head butt you try to give him at the very last second.

"move, idiot," you say sharply, glaring at him.

alright, he probably deserved that one.

you stand up and fix your bra and blouse before gathering your things from the locker before leaving without another word - sukuna follows you outside in a fit of mild anxiousness.

"hey-"

"you. take responsibility and buy me some plan b pills. and a pregnancy test kit," you interrupt, looking back at him.

"...alright," he responds rather obediently, after a nervous swallow.

after you turn back around to continue walking, the tiniest smile grows on your face... sukuna looking nervous is something you never thought you'd see. maybe you can use this to your advantage.

your phone vibrates in your hand. it's from your new 'boyfriend'. a sweet message saying he's excited to see you again tomorrow. you delete the notification with a little bit of guilt on your mind. you'll leave tomorrow's issues for tomorrow.

in front of the chemist, you languidly stand around outside waiting as sukuna does as you'd asked him. truth be told, it was because you didn't want to buy them yourself, out of embarrassment. you know he doesn't care about how people sees him, so no harm done there.

when he comes back out with the bag, he holds it out to hand it over to you. but when you try to grab it, he lifts it away.

"you're gonna break up with him, right?" he suddenly asks, with a rather serious expression on his face.

you ignore the question and try to grab the bag, but he avoids you again.

"...right?" he emphasises. he doesn't intimidate you at all anymore, not after knowing about his feelings for you.

"it's none of your business?" you tell him, finally snatching the bag. he doesn't look too pleased about that answer. you take the pills quietly and shove the rest into your bag.

"okay. now go home," you shoo at him. "i'm tired."

"you haven't answered me yet," he says firmly, holding onto your wrist.

"you'll have your answer tomorrow," you reply in an exasperated tone, shaking off his grip.

"and just letting you know. if it turns out positive, i'm never speaking to you again," you warn him with a deadpan face. in the back of your mind, you're pretty anxious about it, but you know according to your cycle, today wasn't a fertile day. that, and with the pill... it should be alright.

sukuna stiffens up and opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again.

"and don't follow me. if you do, i'll also never speak to you again."

you're not that serious about not talking to him ever again, but you believe he deserves to feel as anxious as you do.

"... i wasn't planning on stalking you anyway. jesus," sukuna mutters, kicking at the dirt on the ground.

you narrow your eyes at him, and then continue your way home.

he scratches the back of his head in frustration. it's like he's skipped a lot of steps towards you and it's coming back to bite him in the ass. ah, well. nothing he can do about it now.

sukuna starts praying that the test comes out as negative.

-

in the end, you decided to become the asshole and just break up with the guy over text. what was there to even really 'break up' anyway? it was for less than a day...

regardless, the news seems to run across the entire school and your friends begin to pester you about why. you can't tell them the truth. what could you even say? 'oh, i got railed good by the one guy i despised in school and it made me end up changing my mind'? fuck that.

he walks towards you after school with seemingly high spirits.

"so... i heard you broke it off after all," he approaches you after hearing the good news. you'd been ignoring him all day, but he's hoping you'll stop once the day was over and there was no one else around to watch them.

you continue to give him the silent treatment, walking along without sparing him a glance.

"hey," he grabs your forearm to stop you from walking.

"stop ignoring me. please."

you only spare him a glance because he added 'please'.

"...i don't see how that changes anything between us," you finally respond.

"right. surely not," he responds, voice thick with sarcasm.

"is that the correct attitude you should be taking? i broke up with him because i felt bad i fucked someone else while we were together. not because i like you back," you shoot at him, crossing your arms.

"oh, give me a break. you were barely with him for one day-"

"sukuna. do you want me to like you back?"

sukuna falls silent, looking at you with annoyance yet also simultaneous desire.

"if you want me to like you... then you need to work for it. make up for all the mean things you've said and done to me."

"...how? what should i do?" he asks, daringly, stepping forward towards you.

you wordlessly take your bag and shove it against his chest with an aloof expression on your features. it startles him for a moment, but looking at your face, he understands what you're asking of him. he slowly smirks and slings your bag over his shoulder, on top of his own.

"easy. anything else?"

"...i'm kinda hungry. take me somewhere good to eat. you pay."

"so... a date?" sukuna hums teasingly, trying to hold your hand.

"nope. you're gonna act as my lackey for a few weeks. it's payback. after that... well, we'll see," you say as you dodge his hand.

he can't wipe the smile off his face. you're clearly playing around with him, but he doesn't hate it. it's another form of attention, is it not? he'll have plenty of chances to make you his from now.

little does he know... he's the one that will become yours in the end.

you know the drill! dot points bc im lazy as fuck!!

okay well, first off the test does turn out negative, lucky for him... from then on you make him wear condoms whenever you have sex

but before that, he spends a few weeks running around to try and appease you

everybody shocked to see the big bad bully is being so obedient, and little do they know...

mmmaybe you give him little rewards every now and then, some sneaky kisses or so, just to keep him afloat... and then you withhold your body from him again

still carries your bag for you everywhere

has to deal with the frustration of not having boyfriend privileges yet... always itching to touch you but you wont allow it until you think he deserves it

sitting between his legs but not letting him be handsy with you is torture. maybe he'll break the rules a bit and hug your waist anyway

love the thought of him borderline begging for your touch because he's so hard from spending so much time being so close with you and it's been well over three weeks since he's done anything remotely sexual with you

maybe you'll feel a little turned on by his pleading that you cave in a bit, and take him to the public restrooms for a few handjobs

he will take anything he can, the opportunist...

and you'll have plenty of fun edging and toying with sukuna until he's shaped nicely into being a good obedient boyfriend for you

bully sukuna trope was inspired and set alight by @gojos-thot-patrol btw, link to his fic here... mine took a completely different path but it was a similar concept in the end ✨️👌

Masterlist

[whatsverstappeningnow]

how f1 drivers react

to your ex texting you out of nowhere

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

max verstappen

It's an awkward thing to bring up, but you didnt want to hide it. Eventually, you try to casually mention it while Max is making and he just… stops moving.

“What do you mean, he texted you? Why?”

He places the knife down and turns slowly to face you. He doesn’t overreact, but he does ask to see the message... and rereads it probably too many times. He's dead silent as his eyes scan the few words over and over, jaw clenched and eyesbrows furrowed.

“He knows you’re with me, right?”

And you assure him that he does. You're instragram is overrun with Max content and photos of you two together. I would be impossible to miss. Your relationship was anything but a secret.

"Fucking loser," he mutters to himself, voice filled with an almost cartoonish frusteration that makes you laugh lightly. The sound of it makes him crack the tiniest smile.

He doesn’t question you. Doesn’t blame. Doesn't ask why he isn't already blocked. He just hates that your ex would try to get in your head again.

“Want me to block him for you?” You agree. Max does it without a second thought.

He’s extra affectionate after: hand on your thigh, quiet forehead kisses. But it's not out of insecurity, its just to remind you he won't let anyone come into your life to hurt you again.

“He had his chance. He doesn’t get to come back into your life after what he did.”

lando norris

He sees your phone light up and casually leans down to read out the name to you, assuming its one of your friends or family checking in. All colour leaves his face when he realises why he recognises the name.

“Wait. Is that who I think it is??”

Suprised by his text youself, you tell him he's right. Immediate chaotic disbelief fills him, he can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Man really thinks he can slide back in after I showed up? Delusional. Completely delusional!”

He's mostly joking, but at least 25% serious, when he offers to message you ex himself. Even suggests sending back a selfie of you in his hoodie just to drive the point home that your his now.

“Should I post a photo of us kissing? No? Okay. But like… I could. For fun.”

His arms curl around you from behind and his head comes to rest on your shoulder, whispering soft things in your ear to make you laugh and forget all about the text.

“He’s not worth the time, babe.”

oscar piastri

You mention it offhandedly while cuddling up on the couch, sit-com reruns playing quietly i nthe background, and Oscar just blinks.

“He texted you?”

He's quietly offended. More on your behalf than anything. He knows what this guy was like and he hates knowing that he's trying to be in your life again.

Doesn’t say much, instead he just holds you a little closer, a little tighter. He helps you delete or block, if you want to. But he doesn't push. It's 100% your decision. He doesn't feel threatened by this guy, just frustrated by his existence.

“You don’t owe him anything. Not even a reply. You know that.”

But it's impossble to miss how he becomes subtly more clingy for the rest of the day.

It's his way of marking territory without letting any jealous words slip out: holding your hand more often, brushing your hair back, soft kisses to you neck while you speak in hushed tones. More couch cuddles and a movie marathon are a requirement that night.

He's not jealous. Just protective.

“If he texts again, let me know. I’ll handle it.”

carlos sainz

You tell Carlos immedietly. The thought of keeping it a secret doesn't even cross your mind.

“He what?”

He leans back on the couch, crosses his arms, and raises one eyebrow like your ex just insulted his mother, his hair and his driving all at once.

“After all this time? What does he want, cariño?”

Doesn’t yell. Doesn’t joke. Just gets that dangerously calm tone. He's mature about it all but there is a distinct edge to his voice.

“No more replies. He had his chance. He doesn’t get to know you anymore.”

Kisses the inside of your wrist as he whipsers to you, holding you close.

“You don’t need to look back when I’m right here.”

You block him, Carlos doesn't have to even ask.

alex albon

He tries to play it cool when you mention it, its still early morning and he's wiping sleep dust from his eye as he speaks.

“Oh? That’s… random.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He tries to make a statement of 'not caring' and maturity by not asking to see the text. But later, once all the humour of the day has worn off, he sheepishly asks to see.

“Just making sure he doesn’t think he's got another chance with my girl. I wanna know what he thinks is so important to say that he had to text you.”

While his eyes scan the screen, he softly reminds you that you don't owe him anything. Not a reply, not a conversation. Nothing.

Gives you a hug from behind while you delete the message (more for his peace of mind than your own).

While he feels slightly bad for his jealously, he trusts you enough to laugh about it later on. He brings you snacks and cuddles to shift the mood, the safest boy to be loved by.

charles leclerc

When you show him the message, flipping the phone around for him to see while sat across from him at the breakfast table, and Charles’s smile disappears instantly.

“No. No, no, no.”

Suddenly he's up, pacing. Annoyed, but because he’s mad for you.

“If you don’t want to answer, you shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve a response,” he says confiendly, like a knight trying to defend your honor.

He stops suddenly in his tracks, wide eyes, and looks over at you.

"I mean, you don't want to respond... right? Ma chérie?" A hint of fear colours his words as his eyes search yours for answers.

Once you reassure him that you have no feelings for you ex, and definitiely do not want to be hearing from him, you block his number together.

Charles visibly relaxs once you do.

"He is stupid, non? It took him so long to realise what he lost. It is too late for him now. I have you all to myself." The kiss that comes next is just as sweet as his words.

lewis hamilton

You tell him while you’re out for a walk. He doesn't stop, no, but he... definitely slows. Like his mind is trying to catch up with your words.

“He reached out?”

Voice is low, calm. He's mature about it, even if the thought makes him uncomfortable. He makes sure you know this is about how you feel, not how he feels.

Listens carefully. Lets you speak.

“You okay?” he asks first. “I know he wasn't great to you. Do you want me to handle it?”

You know he won’t act unless you ask him to... but if you do... your ex will never try that again. It's a delisciosuly good thought, but you tell him you can handle it.

"Ok," he smiles and takes your hand, kissing the back of it as he picks up the pace again, "I trust you."

Later that night, he's holding you against his chest in bed, and you catch him looking at you like you hung the moon.

“He’s trying to come back because he knows what he lost. But I’m never letting go of what I found.”

george russell

“He did what?” The words come out sharper than he intends, you're sure of it. And while the anger isn't aimed at you, for a moment it feels like it is.

“Sorry. I just… he shouldn’t be contacting you. That’s so out of line.”

His expression quickly softens when he sees your face. “Hey. No, I’m not upset with you, love. Just at the situation. At him.”

He just stands beside you as you decide what to do, he doesn’t push. Doesn't force. Just supports. His hand rubs comforting circles on your lower back as you talk it all out.

“You want me to help you block him? Or I can just sit here while you do it. Or we can just delete it. Balls in you court, love.”

When he's curled up with you later,it's all warmth and soft affection. Soft kisses to your cheeks and lips, brushing you hair softly behind your ear.

“He doesn’t deserve your energy, or your time. I’ll always protect that.”

requests open <3

[laswells-ashtray]

Ghost lives next to an old woman. She's a pensioner called Wilma who never had children and her husband passed six years ago.

At first, he had no intention of doing anything but offering his neighbours an awkward but friendly wave and keeping it like that.

Then he comes home one day, lugging around his shopping from Tesco and finds her sitting on her front step. It's baltic outside, a glacial chill running down his spine and twisting around his bones like vines. And this woman is sitting on her front doorstep, housecoat and slippers on with her eyes glued to the entrance of their street.

He's quick to approach her and locate the problem: her lock is broken, she went out for her morning smoke and now she can't get in until her landlord arrives and tries to fix the problem she's been telling him about for months.

He doesn't hesitate to bring her into his house, there's no worry about a stranger occupying his space. He treats it like a mission, get Wilma into his kitchen, make her a cuppa and possibly kill her landlord.

She insists on helping him put away his messages, she isn't prying and trying to get a feel for his home. She's genuinely trying to be helpful because she feels guilty that he had to go out of his way to assist her.

That's the day he decides that Wilma Stewart is his friend because that gives him a reason to help her without her trying to insist on owing him anything.

If something in her house needs to be repaired and he's capable of doing so, he'll mend it. If she needs help with bringing in her shopping or taking out her bins then he'll help when she's there. And eventually, he gives her a spare key, so she can pop in and look over his place while he's away for the job.

If she's baking, she'll leave a plate on his kitchen table. That's how he gains a fondness for Mars Bar traybakes.

When he leaves for any amount of time, he comes back to find a small house plant somewhere in his kitchen. Once he finds a knitted blanket hanging over the back of his couch.

When it's the seventh anniversary of her husband's passing, she invites him in for a drink. She tells him all about her husband Jim. A tender, attentive, gracious man who liked growing tomato plants and crocheting. He tells her about his mum, about Tommy, about Beth and about little Joeseph. His mum and her homemade lentil soup when dad was out, Tommy and their fight over a teal crayon when they were both boys, Beth and the way she brightened up the house with vases of flowers in the colours of a sunset, Joeseph and the way the little bugger peed on him the first time Simon ever tried to change him.

They get a little tipsy and watch Father Ted, he wakes up on his seventy-four-year-old neighbour's couch and ponders what past Simon would think about present Simon's friendship with a pensioner.

One day he invites the other lads over to his place, intent on having a drink with them all and catching up. He lives in a two-bedroom, one of the sergeants could kip in with him, Nik and John could take the other room and the last poor sod could sleep on his couch.

They don't end up making it out for a pint. It's a sunny day and she's a forward woman, Wilma talks them into washing her car under the assurance of baked goods. Then the old bird brings out a camping chair Simon wasn't aware she owned and watches them clean her Mini.

The other men seem to get a kick out of constructive criticism.

"Pretty boy, you missed a bit on the window."

"Oi, stache, get the shirt off."

She wins them over with her switchblade wit and the mismatching mugs she serves them all tea in. Kyle seems particularly fond of the Gromit mug she hands him but Simon's favourite is the cunt mug that uses the handle as the C.

Only when her car is gleaming under the sun's rays does she let them call it quits, herding them inside and tutting disapprovingly when Nikolai pulls his shirt back on.

The array of baked goods that she forces upon them all builds an alliance between the infamous Taskforce 141 and one Wilma Stewart.

By the end of the day, the old-timer has a small army rallied behind her and Simon is almost positive that if her landlord dies within the next four days Nikolai will be responsible for it.

[glitteringcrab]

Morty is so dumb that...

1. He regularly disarms Rick's neutrino bombs. The first time he did it it was completely on the fly, no prior experience. Yet, he did it.

2. He has a knack for learning alien languages... as for the tree people in the battery dimension, it was obviously done without any sort of translator or support. (And he took over as their leader)

3. He's quick on his feet and can think his way out in a stressful situation, figuring out things that Rick can't and coming up with innovative solutions.

4. He figured out how to use a portal gun.

5. He can figure out how machines he's never seen nor used before work, and employ them successfully.

6. Beat Rick (smartest man in the universe?) in a board game.

7. Can manipulate said "smartest man in the universe", if he so chooses.

8. Became a successful stock broker. Out of the blue. Just did it.

9. Run. Whole. Freaking. Civilizations (and also toppled them as Marta)

10. Pitches good ideas that Rick typically ignores

11. When suddenly becomes motivated to try, he is good at math

12. His ideas were good enough that he would have gotten a deal for a movie production...!

13. His default intelligence is maxed out.

...At this point, it's only a matter of time before he starts making his own inventions, Eyepatch-Morty-style.

GUYS.

The only reason we've been thinking that Morty is stupid is that Rick has been calling him stupid repeatedly.

Sure, Morty does plenty of dumb stuff, but so does Rick. Rick has the emotional intelligence of a four year old and throws tantrums of cosmic proportions whenever slighted (vat of acid? submit to the selfie?), while often going ahead with complicated, innovative ideas... that in reality solve nothing and are a waste of time (Pickle Rick?? Leg Rick?? Cloning his own daughter? The dumb time-loop in his own dimension? Replacing himself with a robot? Creating a robot ghost to scary Mr Poopybutthole instead of just telling him to leave??) Not to mention his many incredibly lame jokes.

Everyone does dumb stuff occasionally!!! No one is an impeccable genius of non-stop moments of brightness!! (even Eyepatch Morty, the most cautious character, the character who has made basically NO MISTAKES up to now, sounds dumb a couple of times: "I'm gonna do the thing I wanna do, with the curve thing" and "My biggest fear is other people being afraid. Of fear. Itself." lol).

If Rick hadn't been calling Morty a freaking idiot with every breath available, we wouldn't be thinking "oh look haha the moron became a stock broker, what a joke, must be some sort of fluke"; we would be thinking "what an incredibly gifted kid".

We would attribute Morty's many mistakes to lack of experience, to lack of wisdom, to youth, to enthusiasm, to idealism, to teenager hormones, to acting hastily.

We would wish to see him eventually mature, apply his time and effort to worthwhile endeavors instead (mainly) of inane teenage stuff. We would wish to see him do well in school, we would wish to see him reach his full potential and succeed in great things.

Only Rick keeps pounding our heads with how stupid Morty is, and all of Morty's successes are never mentioned again, but getting lost to oblivion in comparison to Rick's (who has 60+ years more experience) genius.

WE VIEWERS ARE BEING UNWITTINGLY MANIPULATED THE EXACT SAME WAY MORTY IS.

[catcze]

NSFW !! 18+ ONLY

Cw afab reader & fem reader, self indulgent so reader is a cat girl w/ cat ears + tail, breeding, impregnation kink, size difference, married couple, giving him a baby for his birthday 👀

Happy birthday, Sylus ! ♡

Sylus, usually, is a man who prefers to make love over fucking. Who likes it slow, sensual— exploring your body with calloused hands and leaving worshipful kisses wherever his lips can reach. There isn't a single inch of your body that hasn't been loved by his kisses and his palms. And usually, Sylus is one who likes to savor each of your moans and the tight clench of your cunt around his cock with slow, languid thrusts before he gently pulls you over the edge with him.

But tonight seems to be an exception.

Each thrust is deep— deep enough to ache deliciously. The broad tip of his cock kisses your cervix without fail, punching the cutest little mewls from your throat, making you hug your pillow closer to your chest as your eyes roll in your head.

Sylus' big, broad hand is wrapped firmly yet carefully around your little kitty tail, using it to tug you back on his length whenever the overstimulation and constant pleasure has your fucked-out brain making you twitch forward, as if to escape his merciless onslaught of pleasure.

"Tell me what you said before, sweetie," comes his breathless, ragged murmur from above you, coaxing you to lift your teary eyes from the wet pillowcase, glancing over your shoulder at him. So pretty like this— eyes so full of love even when lost in the haze of pleasure.

Sylus groans at the sight beneath him, hilting inside you once more, and you squeak when he stays there, savoring in the warmth of being wrapped up by you.

His hand strokes your cheek gently, delighting in how you melt like putty in his palm. "There's my pretty kitty," he coos adoringly, his cock twitching. He can't hep it— you're just so damn cute. "Hm? What was it that you wanted to give me for my birthday, my love? Tell me again."

It's a struggle at first, with your tongue so heavy with pleasure and the twitch of his cock stretching you open, but you manage eventually— "A baby," you slur slightly, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. "Want— I wanna make you a daddy, Sy."

Just like the first time you said it, the words hit him like a punch in the gut and his breath leaves him in a hoarse exhale. Somehow, his cock gets even harder.

The mere thought of it —of you round and glowing with his baby in your tummy— just about pulls the rug out from under him. The only thing in his mind is filling you up so thoroughly with his cum that it takes.

He tugs again on your cat tail, grinding his hips deeper ( you feel him in your throat ) and you gasp, whining his name.

"Who am I to refuse a gift from my lovely wife?" He murmurs, other hand stroking reverently up and down the length of your spine, just to make you shiver. He grins when he sees how the cat ears at the top of your head flatten against your hair, how you tremble at the tone in his voice.

Adorable. Beautiful.

When he slowly pulls his cock back, it’s shiny from your arousal— pretty and glittering under the lights, marked by you. A ring of your cream circles the base of his cock, and he can’t help but groan under his breath knowing that he did that to you.

Right before you can whine, begging him back inside, Sylus pushes his full length back in in a single thrust, savoring in the wet, filthy sound when your bodies collide. All you can do is mewl as his rough pace starts back up, the sound of flesh meeting flesh resounding in the room, accompanied by your sweet little whines of his name, and Sylus’ grunts of exertion.

“Like that?” he gasps raggedly from above you, the hand not tugging at your tail tangling in your hair, scratching at where the base of your kitty ears meet your scalp. The sensation has your tail going stiff in his grasp, and Sylus laughs under his breath, knowing what he does to you. His voice drops, into something like a purr. A promise. “I’ll cum deep in your belly, sweetie. Breed you nice and deep, alright? I’ll be the daddy, and you can be our baby’s mommy. Sound good?”

"P-please—"

And oh, the way that you clench around him at that— the way that you whine so high pitched and needy, begging him— it has his head spinning. Another brutal thrust forward and your knees give way from the weight of his body pressing down into you. Your tummy meets the soft sheets of your bed, and Sylus follows you down with his chest pressed against your shoulder blades, pinning you to it.

Even with his brain consumed by desire and his very soul heavy with pleasure, he's still conscious enough to not lay all his weight on you, giving you room to breathe and not crushing your tail under his weight. Still so considerate, still so in love, even as he takes you apart at the seams.

You mewl, clutching your pillow tighter to your chest, so fucked out of your mind and drunk on the stretch of his cock but still wanting his baby inside you, begging for it each time you clench down when he thrusts in. Begging for it in the way you chant his name, in the way you beg for him to give you his baby.

Sylus grits his teeth, willing himself not to cum right then and there— forces himself to have an ounce of self control. But fuck if you’re not making it easy for him.

“Deep,” you gasp, delirious from the pleasure but still such a good little kitty for him, even as tears gather on your lashes. “Want it d-deep Sy— please—”

“Alright.” With a grunt, he buries his face into your hair as he continues to pound into you, fucking you into the sheets of your bed. The scent of your shampoo fills his nose and his lungs and his head with nothing else but you. Both hands on your hips now, fingers digging into the softness of your waist so tightly and so desperately that you’re sure to be sporting his marks tomorrow. If you want it deep, then deep is what he’ll give you.

He groans, wicked and wild and in love, and his cock pushes into your tight cunt once more, his whole weight behind the thrust. As deep as he can go, buried to the very hilt, with his base rubbing against your pussy lips. Deep enough that you whine his name, cunt squeezing around him as your tail stiffens, then your whole body goes limp, orgasm washing over you and leaving you glowing.

Sylus groans, your name honey-sweet as it drips from his lips, finding his own orgasm when he feels your cum coat his cock, dripping down onto the stained sheets. He stays seated as deep as possible inside you, breeding you the way you had so wished, pumping his cum into your willing pussy.

With a coaxing noise, he draws you into a passionate, loving kiss over your shoulder as he continues to fill you, hips bucking as you squeeze him of every drop he has to offer.

You mewl sweetly into the kiss, your cute little tail twitching weakly in delight as he swallows each of your noises hungrily. The fullness in your belly only grows and sneakily, his hand slips down to feel over your lower tummy as if he could feel his cum filling you up,

“Again,” he gasps when your lips part, a thin strand of spit stretched between your lips. His hand scratches at your hair again, and he moans when you clench down. “Just to make sure it takes, hm? Is that alright?”

And you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow. Certain that your legs are gonna ache and that sitting is going to be hell. But at the same time, with Sy’s hard cock still stuffed inside and the prospect of making sure it takes still heavy on your mind, your decision or already made.

“Again,” you murmur in agreement, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Let me give you a baby, Sylus.”

And oh, who is he to say no to you?

[thinkinonsense]

FANTASIZE❦

old!logan howlett x fem!reader

*mdni

cw: cursing, nsfw, age gap (reader is twenty-five)

wc: 1k+

a/n: i have no idea where this came from. i was supposed to be working on something completely different but apparently, this needed to be written first instead. yes it is inspired by the unreleased ariana grande song.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Logan couldn't read minds. He never longed for the ability or power; he was better off not knowing what others had going on in their heads. He only wanted to peek into someone's mind when he caught your twinkling eyes lingering in his direction. Luckily, he could still read your mind even without the mutation because your fantasies were written all over your face.

It was obvious to anyone caught in the same room as you and Logan, that there was tension. You burned holes all over his body with your intense gaze. If Logan was in the mood to entertain your little crush, he could compliment you in a way that was sure to make you blush.

"Good form today, kid."

"Lookin' pretty today, sweetheart."

"Lemme fix that lipstick, dollface." That one left you with an ache in between your thighs as his thumb brushed your lower lip. "Can't have you walkin' around here a mess, now can we?"

Logan wasn't sure if he would ever make it to heaven but seeing your lip tremble with need was close enough for him.

If he saw you in a dress with a pair of mary-jane's, he would try to catch a glimpse of your underwear in the reflection of your shoes. It didn't always work but it made him feel young again.

No one was brave enough to address it due to him being twice your age. Despite being twenty-five years old and already having graduated from the school, it was still considered taboo to some. If anyone asked Logan about it, he would brush it off as a schoolgirl crush that you would eventually grow out of.

It was truly harmless he thought. You got the attention you craved and Logan got to see a pretty young woman squirm in her seat because of him. It never went further than flirtatious comments and lingering stares.

❦

Today might be the worst day of your life. You and Logan were being sent out together on a mission to find a mutant that lived two hours away. It wasn't the mission that worried you; it was being stuck in a tiny car with only Logan for one hundred and twenty minutes.

"Why aren't 'cha talkin', dollface?" Logan asked, almost teasingly.

For almost twenty minutes, he was aware of your eyes watching his hand hold the wheel. Logan was also incredibly aware of the effect it had on you. A little broken sigh escapes you when his hand clenches tighter around the leather, making his veins pop even more.

"Too busy fantasizing 'bout me?"

No matter how much you tried to find someone your age to be with, your heart always went back to Logan. He treated you differently than anyone you've ever met. Sure, sometimes he made you feel like a kid but he also knew you could handle your own. Logan wouldn't let anyone underestimate you; that kept you crawling back to him.

"Maybe I am." You shrug, fed up with his games.

"Oh, yeah?" He says, taking a deep inhale of your sent. "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, hm?"

You were used to Logan's overly confident personality that he tried to use to intimidate you; and make you stumble over your words. It wasn't gonna work this time. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him, but you needed him to admit it first.

"Us in the backseat of the car." You admit, biting the inside of your cheek nervous for his response.

"Really? And what are we doing back there?" He asked, cocking his head curiously as his eyes remained glued to the road.

"You're on top of me, makin' me feel good." Your words were coy but that was the point. Logan liked being the tease; having all the power.

"Keep talkin', dollface."

There it was. You had him right where you wanted him.

You pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking your head and telling him, "No, I shouldn't"

"Why not?"

"Because an old man like yourself can't keep up with me, right? At least that's what I heard you tell the Professor."

Logan couldn't believe you had heard their conversation earlier this week. The Professor was the only person who knew the truth of how Logan felt towards you. When Charles asked him what was stopping him from pursuing you, all Logan had to say was, "I'm too old for her; can't keep up with such a young thing like her".

Which was far from the truth.

"So obsessed with me that you're listenin' to my conversations now?" He growled, pulling the car over.

"Stop acting like you aren't obsessed with me too." You smile at him. "I know a few pairs of my underwear 'mysteriously' disappear from my hamper. I know that you can hear me through the walls late at night, panting your name."

With each sentence, you inch closer to him. Logan could only compare you to the snake in Eve's garden; encouraging him to give into his temptations.

"I also know that you want me." Your eyes were dark with desire, making his pants tighter. "So, if you can't get it up or claim that you don't want me then that's fine with-"

Logan fumed with irritation and lust. Not thinking twice before slamming your lips into yours. He tasted exactly like you imagine; tobacco and mint. You were addicted; no one could ever compare to him.

In a rush, his rough hands pulled you into his inviting lap before one cupped your jaw and his other made its way up your skirt, toying with your lacy underwear. He wasn't going to give it to you that easily.

"L-Logan, please," You moan against his mouth, trying to create some friction on his lap. "Need it."

God, he's waited a long time to hear that; to see you so desperate in his arms. When he pulled back to look at you, Logan couldn't be more pleased with the image in front of him. Your eyes shut tightly, face scrunched, trying to concentrate, and lips pouty with annoyance. Logan removes his hand under your skirt; causing the prettiest whine to escape you. He thought you might be what finally kills him.

"We aren't done, sweetheart." He groaned in your ear. "Get in the backseat because you are gonna tell me every single one of your fuckin' fantasies."

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── highlighter? what's that?

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: very much inspired by the video hyun did with risabae <3 very self indulgent; hyun's a cutiepie and i wanna squish his cheeks. i hope you enjoy!! <3

“Baby, what is this?”

Hyunjin looks up from his phone in wonder, raising both eyebrows as you thrust a pink, round, and strange-looking sponge in his face.

He pauses, gaze finding yours, scoffing as your smile widens.

“A beauty blender. How stupid do you think I am?”

You can't help but laugh, putting the item away to cradle his face and place a soft kiss on his forehead. “Stupid isn't a word I actively associate with you, my love.”

You can feel him melt at your words, and as he leans into the touch to capture your lips, you pull back to get another product, as committed to the bit as one could be.

“What about this?”

Hyunjin is confused, a pout settling over his pillowy lips. He studies the pencil in your hand, stopping at the blunt tip that can barely tell him what color it's supposed to be anymore.

“Is this one of my drawing pencils? But I don't remember owning such a shade.” He takes it from your hand to have a closer look, studying it curiously. “A crayon?”

“A crayon, baby?”

He nods, smiling brightly. “I didn't know you got back into coloring! I'm so glad!”

He's too cute to disagree with, so your only response is a smile full of fondness as you turn away from him once again, setting the lip liner aside.

“What are you doing?”

“I saw this on tiktok.” Hyunjin groans loudly, letting his head fall back against the couch in the most dramatic manner he could muster. “It’s looked like so much fun! All you have to do is name these products you've seen me use hundreds of times.”

Your boyfriend shakes his head, staring at the ceiling in contemplation. “Nothing from that app can be fun.”

“So, you're not having fun?” You pout, trying to meet his eyes and weaken his defences.

Silence greets your question for a few heartbeats which aids you in hearing the gears in Hyunjin’s head working overtime, pondering over his next words.

Eventually, he sighs and grumbles under his breath. “I didn't say that...”

When Hyunjin returns to sitting properly, you hold up a familiar product he is bound to guess even with his eyes closed.

“That's lipstick. Your favorite one. You love peppering kisses all over my face while wearing it just so it would stain my skin.”

Your grin is so wide that your cheeks start to hurt, happiness contagious as it pulls the same smile from your previously grumpy boyfriend. “Great job, baby!” You clap, reaching out to run your hand through his short hair, the texture that has him resembling a hedgehog pleasant on your skin. As expected, he leans into your touch once again, like a moth drawn to a flame, or a cat craving affection after a whole day spent apart. At this point, you’re sure he’s not even aware of how often he does it.

“I got it right.” He mumbles, grabbing your other hand before you can run away to plant soft kisses all over your knuckles. “Now where’s my reward?”

“A reward?” You ask, raising a curious brow while your hand stills on his head. “What do you want?”

“You.”

Your heart flutters, somehow still not used to his characteristic boldness that never shies away from expressing what he desires, making you go weak in the knees without fail.

You weren’t done with him yet, but Hyunjin did have a point – his patience deserved a reward after getting roped into another one of your schemes, even though you could always tell he loved your spontaneous mind and silly ideas.

Without a word, you dip down to plant a sweet kiss on his awaiting lips, one that lingers for as long as you’re both willing to get lost in each other. Which is a long time, an eternity if only your need for air didn’t butt in every few minutes to ruin the moment.

His strong arms circle your waist, keeping you in place as he kisses all of your thoughts away. His cheeky tongue caresses your bottom lip as if politely asking for entrance. You comply, only for a fleeting moment, allowing him to taste you as your hands squish his cheeks together, unable to help yourself.

When you pull away, you’re both a little out of breath, lips red and slick with each other’s saliva. Hyunjin’s looking up at you after resting his chin above your stomach, eyes full of the love only you can ignite in him, and the sight doesn’t fail to pull on your sensitive heartstrings.

Gently, with utmost care, you wipe at his bottom lip, causing his hold on you to tighten and pull you even closer, almost seating you on his lap.

Somehow, you manage to twist your body in his embrace and reach for the next product, still not willing to give up on your game.

“Baby,” you coo, caressing his jaw, “do you recognize this one?”

Releasing you, Hyunjin reaches for the small product that looks even tinier in his big hands, inspecting it thoroughly. He’s turning it around, analyzing it from every angle, before finally figuring out how to open it. A gasp escapes his full lips as a cloud of glitter greets him, the particles flying in his face like they too longed for a chance at his love, to touch and kiss his face like you were just doing minutes prior.

“It’s so shiny.” He mumbles, in awe of all the colorful hues he can see in the white powder. “Is this the thing you put on your eyes? What was it called?”

You can’t help but laugh, your heart growing in size at the adorable look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows you had to hold yourself back from kissing away. “I guess you can use it on your eyes as well, yeah.”

“It’s a highlighter, Hyun.”

“Highlighter?” Hyunjin whispers, still as lost as ever, searching his mind for all the memories in which he’s witnessed you use this thing.

You nod, grabbing his hand to help him dip his fingers in, gently. “See how it sparkles?”

Hyunjin is mesmerized, staring at the swatch you just did on his hand with the curiosity of a little kid that just received a new, shiny toy he couldn’t bring himself to tear out of the package yet.

The sight is so endearing that your heart threatens to jump out of your chest at any second, leaving you behind in favor of finding a new home among Hyunjin’s other organs, deeming him more worthy. That’s why, you let her dictate your next move, leaning down to sweetly peck his lips once again, a kiss he returns automatically.

Now, he’s frowning because of a whole other reason, holding himself back from chasing after your lips. “I got it wrong though?”

You shake your head, beaming. “It doesn’t matter. Your cuteness deserves a reward either way.”

The last thing you see is his bright smile before you turn your back to him again, reaching for the eyelash curler that is bound to give him some trouble.

Once Hyunjin’s doe eyes settle on the small piece of metal in your hands, his smile vanishes as an emotion resembling fear clouds the chocolate color.

“Absolutely not! Get that torture device away from me!”

Oh, how much you loved your boyfriend and his dramatic antics.

[fanged-fanfics]

Hello! I want to make a request!

Imagine if reader gets stuck in game (from like this human reality) and turns into a cookie... And I don't think cookies have like fingers and stuff like that so we'd obviously struggle with that part and many more...

And how would Pure vanilla and Shadow milk cookie react to that? They don't know we're not from here because we don't say it to them, but they can clearly notice that we can't even hold a rock or walk properly and etc..

Ty if you decide to do this!

☆ Whole New Reality — Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla (seperate) x Human!Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Upon entering this new reality, you were surprised when you landed in a shadowy area where a group of three were huddled up and chatting together. The blue leader turned to you, floating over and asking how you'd stumbled in

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He found out pretty quickly that you couldn't even stand well, much less walk. He used the end of his staff to lift you into a proper stance, joking that you were acting like a Sugar Gnome after being through a salad spinner

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He introduces himself as Shadow Milk, offering outright that he could tell you were new here. You panicked a little initially, but with a deep bow he dramatically proclaims that he'll be your guide. A helping hand would be nice, yes? And who better than him!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You stood confused while his henchmen applauded behind him, noting how noble it was of him. He soaked in your praises while pulling you close to his side, an arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders. He flashes you a wide smirk while mentioning that he thinks you're going to be very good friends

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Alternatively, you find yourself in a warm field in front of a kingdom, confusion filling you right before a blinding light of the sun burns your eyes. You cover your face, attempting to stand when suddenly feeling a supporting hand on your shoulder

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A gentle voice asks if you're alright, a large sleeve coming up to block the sun from your vision. As he holds you up, you try to play it off, but he becomes immediately concerned when you can't go two steps without stumbling and falling to the ground

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He tells you not to move, assessing your legs in his hands to see if he can sense any injuries. His staff waves over your form, and he seems confused once he pulled back. There doesn't seem to be anything physically wrong, but you seemed so disoriented

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He eventually helps you stand once more, telling you to hold tight while he begins walking you to the castle. He promises to help you in any way he can, meanwhile you're mentally trying to think how you're going to explain where you're actually from. For now, you're content to just lean against the Healer while he promises you some beverages for the trouble