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whumpwillow · 6 months

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here have a thing

warnings: past torture, death mention, bugs mention (mosquitos), blood, associated misery

—

They were, in theory, alone.

The group made their way through what they’d thought was a deserted mangrove. That was the primary reason they’d chosen it as the landing pad for their airship, as the sonar array hadn’t detected any other vessels in the area, nor were there any nearby settlements. They planned it this way so they could avoid coming into contact with any other people.

That was, until they came across the man stumbling through the forest, covered in blood. Leader drew the stun gun from his waist belt and pointed it at the man, who took no notice of them. Friend subtly positioned himself in front of Caretaker, but she could still see the gory images played out in front of her.

The man was alone, and wearing nothing but a tattered pair of work slacks. His chest and feet were bare, save for the grievous wounds that marred them. His body bent forward at the waist, head hanging low, and his muscles contorted with each strangled breath. He’d put his forearm to a tree next to him and seemed to be trying to regain balance or stability or energy or something—Caretaker couldn’t tell. She didn’t know how he was even alive right now.

His head was downturned and his hair, wet and sticky with blood, was so plastered to his skin that his face was indiscernible. Blood streamed down it, as well as from numerous other wounds on his body.

They were…not the sort of wounds one would get from being lost in the forest. They were too precise. Intentional.

“Stay back,” Leader said, in his usual stern but smooth baritone.

The injured man flinched, having registered the sound, but all it did was quicken his breathing. Leader took a step toward him.

Caretaker couldn’t stop staring. Eyes wide, she observed every gash, every burn, every bruise. The wounds were fresh and weeping, but it had to have been a few days at least that the man had been wandering through the forest. He was covered in mud that mixed with the crimson that dripped from his wounds, likely having infected them already. Little red dots scattered across his skin showed that he’d been food for the mosquitos, and small scratches on his arms and legs looked more like the injuries gotten from foliage rather than…direct intent.

How he got the other wounds…Caretaker didn’t want to think too hard about it.

“Who are you?” Leader asked.

The injured man didn’t respond. His arms and legs shook something fierce, and had been the entire time. Whether it was from exhaustion or fear, Caretaker didn’t know.

“Looks like he got pretty fucked up,” Friend chimed in. “He one of ours?”

Leader grumbled something under his breath. “Blackdoor would do that.”

Caretaker pushed herself out from behind Friend and moved quickly up to where Leader was standing. She put a hand on his arm and looked him in the eyes.

“Come on,” she said. “Put the gun down. He’s clearly hurt.”

Leader eyed her stonily. His gaze flicked from Caretaker’s face to the nearly doubled-over body of the injured man and back, though the hand holding the gun never wavered or shook.

“It could be a trap,” he said.

Caretaker put a hand on her hip and used the other to gesture to the mysterious man. “Does it fucking look like one?”

Leader didn’t respond, except to reach to her as she moved forward to go to the injured man. He lifted his head minutely, but with the blood and his hair plastered to his face, she couldn’t make out what he looked like. But she knew he was watching her.

“Hey,” she said. “Do you need help?”

She raised a hand to touch him but he flinched back, stumbling over a root and falling to the ground. Leader shouted and darted forward, and Caretaker felt herself being pulled away from the spot before she could even blink.

She fumbled with the roots and leaves for a bit, but Friend came up behind her and put his arms on her shoulders to steady her. Leader had one foot on the injured man’s chest and was pointing the stun gun directly at his face.

“What are you doing here, Whumpee?” he shouted.

Whumpee. the assassin.

Caretaker shivered. She’d only encountered him once, but she’d been through enough danger at the hands of Blackdoor to know they didn’t mess around and they didn’t hold back.

Whumpee held up his hands over his face. “Pl-please, please, please—you can’t—I’m not—please—I’m—,” he begged, words coming out in short gasps.

His hands shook as he tried to protect himself from whatever he thought was coming. Caretaker could still barely see his face through the blood. Leader didn’t relent, trying to question him on his intentions, but they all already knew what his objective was.

To kill Caretaker.

She stepped up beside him, ignoring Leader’s protests. “What happened to you?”

Whumpee didn’t respond. The begging seemed to take precedence and Caretaker turned to look at Leader, wondering if she had enough persuasion skills to get him to put the gun away.

“You’re hurting him,” she said.

“He was sent to kill you,” Leader said. His eyes blazed with something dark and obsessive. “He fucking killed my brother.”

Caretaker knew Leader had been consumed with revenge ever since the attack that had killed his brother, orchestrated by none other than Blackdoor’s very own assassin. She’d seen the way he stared out the window of the airship as they moved through the sky, the light in his eyes giving way to something else entirely as he talked about how he’d get his revenge. But this wasn’t the way.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve the building tension. “Yes, I know. I was there. I saw him die on that operating table too,” she began. “But we can’t kill Whumpee here. We can get vital information from him about Blackdoor.”

Friend drew up behind Caretaker and peered around her shoulder to look up at Leader. “And about Team Member! I need to know what he did with Team Member!”

Whumpee groaned, writhing in the mud under Leader’s boot still placed on his sternum. Caretaker glanced down at him and then back at Leader, not wanting to think about how much it must have hurt those bruises staining every inch of skin she could see that wasn’t already covered in mud and blood. Deep purples, blues, greens, and browns made him look more like a piece of abstract art rather than a person.

“…scaped…” Whumpee murmured, almost inaudibly.

Friend crouched down. “What’d you say?”

Whumpee turned his head weakly in Friend’s direction. “He escaped…she let him go…when she caught me.”

He panted heavily, drawing in breaths with great effort. It seemed speaking even this little bit had exhausted him.

Caretaker gave Leader a look that she hoped conveyed to him that he should at least take his foot off the assassin’s chest. Leader understood and acquiesced, stepping back. He didn’t holster the stun gun.

Whumpee took in a deep breath once Leader’s weight was off him, but then immediately whinged in pain. His face crumbled like paper. Friend twisted his mouth to the side, a look of displeased understanding on his face.

“His ribs are probably broken. Sucks to take in a breath when it feels like you’re getting stabbed,” he noted.

Caretaker crouched down next to him. “Who caught you? Did the Eighth Chasm do this?”

The Eighth Chasm leader had a temper to match her fiery red hair. Caretaker would never have expected her to do something like this, but she also had never actually met the woman, so she supposed she couldn’t make such snap judgments. Leader had been the one to feed the information to her, and as much as he liked to think of himself as rational and stoic, he often let his emotions color his perception of things.

Whumpee shook his head, creating a sloshing noise of his hair going back and forth in the mud. “Montrose family,” was all he said before letting the silence hang in the air between the four of them.

Caretaker looked up at Leader, wondering if this was someone new he would tell her about, but his face displayed as much confusion as hers likely did. Leader’s eyebrows knitted together in concentration, but he finally shook his head.

“Is that part of Blackdoor?” Friend asked.

“Why would Blackdoor do this to their own operative?” Caretaker responded to Friend’s question with another question. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Whumpee heaved another strained breath. His eyelids fluttered, closed, and then opened again after a long pause.

“They didn’t like Blackdoor operating out of New York City…said it was their territory,” Whumpee said. His bottom lip trembled, but he didn’t seem to realize. His eyes glazed over for a moment before he spoke again.

“They sent one of their operatives to kill me and Septimus…hah, and all this,” he gestured at his battered body. “This was just for fun.”

#whump #whump writing #my writing #drops a writing piece randomly in the middle of nanowrimo #i was procrastinating #dont expect anything more lmao #assassin whump #assassin whumpee

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chershare · 4 months

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Cher, you're so lovely. 💕

For the prompts: Shunsui/Starrk, the depths of winter?

Who needs snippets when apparently you can just write a whole goddamn oneshot?

❄️

Spiritual energy had a lot of uses, and while the vast majority had become weaponized spells, there were more mundane uses as well.

Like not freezing in winter. He'd always held a particular sympathy for the souls who didn't have the protection of reiatsu in winter, even if they didn't suffer hunger.

An unfortunate form of equality, perhaps.

Shunsui had many reasons not to particularly like the season, and most of them revolved around Jushiro and his fragile health. Even with his best friend no longer around to have his weak body ailed further, Shunsui's first reaction was always a moment of resigned dislike. A flicker of worry that the cold and wet would exacerbate a problem that had no good answer.

Winter was tolerated, but not anything special. A season was a season, and he didn't dislike it enough to have a word with Captain Hitsugaya about it.

This wasn't so for Starrk, who had slipped out of the warmth of Shunsui's little house to stand in the yard. At this point, it looked like he'd been outside for some time, and while Shunsui had been absently tracking his reiatsu, it wasn't as if he'd really been following what the former Espada was doing. After all, it had been just over half a year since the man had taken up residence with him, cajoled bullied out of Hueco Mundo and into Shunsui's comfortable guest room.

Although the Hollow rarely actually used it, preferring to flop onto the cushions in the main room, letting Shunsui's subordinates step over and around him. He said he liked the noise, the business of it, even when someone would get fed up with him taking up floor space and kick him out.

He was a lonely thing, even with all the rest of them around. Even with Shunsui beside him.

Of course, he wasn't alone in being lonely.

Shunsui hadn't latched onto Starrk for nothing, after all.

Because as he looked out at the snow, at Starrk standing in the snow, he ached for the routine of going to visit Jushiro. Of bringing hot foods and snacks, of their seconds preparing hotpot and bundling up under the kotatsu for a game or two of whatever struck their fancy.

His first thought wasn't the amount of snow piled on Starrk's head and shoulders telling in how the Hollow hadn't moved in quite some time. It wasn't about the way he looked unreal and a bit silly with his feet half buried in new snowfall, dark hair coated in crystals of ice. A statue that didn't need to breathe if he didn't want to, completely and totally still, simply observing the world around him in a way that unnerved most.

Starrk wouldn't begrudge him his thoughts turning first to Jushiro, of course, but Shunsui himself felt a bemused guilt over his inattention.

With a sigh, he bracingly pulled his heavier winter yukata around himself - it was thankfully one of his rare days off, no Nanao to bug him about work - and then slipped on the sandals he kept by the exterior door, and hopped down into the snow.

Since it was his day off, he'd rather wanted to stay cozy inside, potentially waking to Starrk staring at him from where he sometimes flopped down next to Shunsui's futon like the large canine he took after.

Shunsui was, for all his youthful vigor and handsome face, old as shit. He was a deadly combatant and capable strategist. He'd killed more and fought more battles than just about everyone still around in Sereitei. He could walk on air as easily as the ground, and catch a mote of reishi without effort.

But of course, Shunsui was also human.

So, he slipped on the slick stones beneath the snow.

Oh, he nearly instantly corrected himself, vaguely exasperated with needing to at all, but he still had almost fallen in the yard.

At least only Starrk would have seen.

Starrk, who was suddenly at his side, the snow that had coated him - and the ground at their feet - puffing up into the air at the force of his swift movement.

It spun in a little whirlwind, drawing more chill air in around them, seeping into Shunsui's cold bones and he couldn't suppress a shiver. Sure, the cold wouldn't hurt him, but it still wasn't exactly pleasant.

Starrk's hand lifted and wrapped around Shunsui's wrist, a point of frankly icicle level touch.

"Oi, oi, oi," he shivered harder, but didn't pull out of the icy grip. "You're way too cold for being handsy, Starrk."

Gray eyes looked into his own, snowflake catching momentarily on Starrk's lashes before Shunsui could tangibly feel the grip on his wrist heating up as Starrk cycled his reiatsu. Apparently, rubbing it against his hard hierro would cause friction which gave his body exterior heat, when otherwise he didn't care about surface temperature regulation. The man was normally sitting at room temperature, his environment choosing the heat or cold of his hierro.

The flakes on his lashes melted, and glimmered in the morning light before sliding off the ends to drip away on a slow blink. He looked nice, his hair a bit more in disarray than usual from the snow and melt, wearing one of the yukata that Nanao and the women's association had dragged the Hollow out to get.

It was not a winter yukata. The shit.

The grip on his wrist shifted idly down to Shunsui's hand, their palms fitting together in a comfortable but still somewhat new motion. It was a pleasantly warm hand now, the hierro adapting as Starrk wished with barely a thought.

A tingle of affection, a different kind of ache in his breast, had Shunsui quirking up a smile despite the chill.

He squeezed Starrk's hand gently.

"Come inside and have something to eat. You haven't even tried out the kotatsu yet, and for a lazy hedonist that's a must in the winter."

"If you say so," was Starrk's reply, shrugging but letting himself be pulled along. "But you also said that about making our during the fireworks at festivals, and -"

"I cannot control what my Shinigami accidentally set on fire with experimental products," he interrupted huffing at the familiar jab. "Akon-kun was much too excited by Urahara-kun's visit, truly."

"Mm."

He shot a look at the former Espada, and received a softening at the corners of lips and eyes that could almost be the beginning of a smile. That little prick of affection twitched once again, and Shunsui gave a mental sigh as he told Starrk to wait for him for a moment.

A couple of absent shunpo had him rattling around his house for sake and snacks, and then back to the room.

Starrk had left the doors open to the outside and was watching the way the snow fell again, his sandals kicked off messily next to where Shunsui had left his own.

At least this time he was standing inside, Shunsui wasn't going to nag anymore than that. It wasn't as if either of them was going to catch a cold, both of them more resilient than they'd perhaps prefer.

As it was, Shunsui set up the kotatsu, seating himself on a cushion and placing out the crackers and fruit with no particular finesse or thought to the plating the way that Nanao or Jushiro might have.

The edges of a blanket flopped over his shoulders as Starrk sat on his own cushion pulled up right next to Shunsui improperly, but he honestly found the little obscure idiosyncrasies rather charming.

Starrk was a line of heat at his side.

He leaned into it, that heat, that Hollow reiatsu which had been anathema to him for so much of his life, and let himself think about how much he appreciated Starrk's company. His willingness to be gently bullied into Shunsui's house, into the empty spaces, to share his own empty ache and soothe and be soothed in turn.

"Hot sake?"

"Sure," slowly, he felt Starrk soften into his side, like he was defrosting even after heating himself and returning inside. Even though the cold hadn't affected him. "It's part of the experience, isn't it?"

Shunsui huffed a laugh, his own tendency to use that turn of phrase to convince Starrk to do something gently lobbed back at him.

With the ease of long practice he traced his fingers around the bottom of the bottle, his reiatsu heating the sake gently in a manner as a youth he'd bungled more times than he could count.

So many porcelain splinters.

He poured for them both, and enjoyed the faint zing of hands brushing once more as Starrk took the cup from him in a mannerless but elegant motion. They raised glasses to one another before sipping, and Shunsui sighed appreciatively. It was a good heat that bled from his tongue down his throat, soothing that phantom ache in his chest.

"Good?"

"Mm. I like it."

Shunsui smiled, watching Starrk watch the snow.

When the sake ran out, Starrk pushed the kotatsu to the side despite Shunsui's protests over his precious heat, and then laid his head in Shunsui's lap.

Ah.

Well, this seemed a fair trade off.

The kotatsu wasn't that far away, so he somehow found himself reaching over and peeling fruit and feeding the lazy bastard in his lap, who had obligingly left himself warmer for Shunsui's benefit.

Together, they watched the snow.

Shunsui had never particularly liked winter, for all the cozy traditions it held. But this was... Nice. Even without the comfort of his best friend at his side, the absence more destabilizing than losing an eye, he still didn't hate winter.

When he stopped peeling fruit to share, he found his hands sliding into Starrk's mop of hair, curling his fingers through it, scratching his nails over the other man's scalp. Starrk sighed appreciatively, relaxing further into Shunsui's lap, tilting his head into his hands.

Starrk's eyes stayed on the snow.

Shunsui had some idea of what he was seeing in his hazy mind's eye.

Lilynette had been a loud, rambunctious child with a personality twice as large as she was. All the energy that Starrk didn't have, she'd had in surplus, and for all that he was aware, this winter was Starrk's first time seeing snow, which meant -

"She'd have loved this," Starrk spoke quietly, mouth half turned into Shunsui's thigh, as if to smother his own words.

"Yeah," was all he could say. "I bet."

His hands continued playing with Starrk's hair, heart aching in various ways, even as his body remained warm, the weight in his lap a comfort.

"Jushiro loved the snow," he said after a few more quiet moments, the world hushed by the continued snowfall. "Even if it wasn't good for him to go out in the cold, he frequently slipped his minders to play with the younger recruits in snowball fights or building snow houses. I'd have to drag him inside even when he was clearly already relapsing, coughing and feverish."

"Hmm. Maybe they're keeping each other company."

Ah, what an unusually optimistic outlook.

Shunsui liked it.

They could use a little optimism.

"I'm sure he's driven her crazy by now."

"It wouldn't take much, honestly. She had a short temper."

"I recall."

The conversation drifts off naturally, but both of them continue to watch the snow fall, but now Shunsui can almost see an angry child Hollow stomping her foot and pointing at Jushiro. Arguing about a snowman perhaps, or denying being a child as Shunsui's best friend plied her with candy.

They would be all bundled up, the both of them, because of course they would be, and perhaps Shunsui and Starrk would be in this same position. Watching Lilynette chase Jushiro around a snow fort, or catching flakes on their tongues, hands wrapped in mittens and scarves half coated in snow from distractedly being dragged through the snow.

They would be laughing. Happy. Eyes sparkling with it, color in their cheeks and energy in their limbs.

Yes, Shunsui could almost see it.

And he had no doubt that Starrk could as well, those sharp eyes glancing up at him in a speaking look before sliding back towards the snow. Shunsui snuck one hand out of the former Espada's hair and found it caught by Starrk's, the man's arm crossing his own chest, fingers entangled against Starrk's shoulder.

Their grips were matched in strength, warmth seemingly a bubble around them, even as little snowflakes were blown in to land on the hardwood. They melted slowly, leaving little spots of water on the floor, on the boundary of the tatami.

He didn't hate winter. But it did make him sad, he supposed.

Good thing that he wasn't alone then, wasn't it?

With a hum, he shifted and bent - ignoring the pinch in his back as he did so - and pressed a gentle kiss to Starrk's temple. His answer was Starrk shifting to lay his lips to the inside of Shunsui's wrist, gentle against his fluttering pulse.

So they sat, entangled, and watched the snow fall, blanketing Shunsui's yard in glimmering white. Each flake carrying soft hurts but allowing also, a most gentle warmth.

The snow continued to fall, and they continued to watch.

Dreaming.

❄️

#fanfic #fanfiction #cher shares #bleach #coyote starrk #kyoraku shunsui #Starrk/Shunsui #prompt fill

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sixsixtwenty · 2 months

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Scp 049 x Reader

NOONES POV:

It was a calm evening in the foundation more calmer than you expected really, you thought you were gonna have to do more tests with researchers doing Experiments on you.

But to your luck they didn't, they let you rest and have a nice calm evening all to yourself. But you knew you're never alone

Those damn cameras in your room always bugged you, you felt like you barely have any privacy because they wanna study you 24/7 you thought.

You were casually laying on your bed staring at the ceiling thinking of what to do, you missed your friend 049. You never knew his real name but it didn't matter to you apparently.

You really appriciate his company even though of his well. Hobby. But you just let him do what he wanted, if it'll make him happy and he doesn't attack you it's all good you thought.

You started to twiddle your fingers together deep in thought as you suddenly hear one of the chamber doors opening as you saw one of the guards entering your chamber.

"Y/N L/N, you will be visiting Scp-049 again, it was requested by the higher ups because you both seem to get along quite well and he has no intentions in 'curing' you. Now get up and follow me and don't do anything stupid."

You simply nodded got up and followed the MTF to 049's chamber, well he wasn't wrong about those statements you both did get along pretty well you think. He was all chill and calm around you.

Soon you arrived at 049's chamber along with the MTF, you can already see a researcher inside the chamber as if he was awaiting you eich he probably was.

"Ah miss L/N, you're finally here. You already maybe know why you're here, so just go inside 049's chamber and interact with him"

You sighed and nodded, you were kinda tired because you hadn't gotten too much sleep the past days those tests with other scps just took a bunch of energy out of you wich just makes you wanna plop down onto your bed and hope you can sleep

With your all will power you walked inside as the door closed behind you eich cought 049s attention and looked to you giving you a small wave and greeted you.

"Greetings my friend, how are you today?" He said in a calm voice as he laid the cutting knife down that he used on one of his patients before to perform surgery.

You ignored that and simply just replied back in a calm voice aswell keeping things cool.

"I'm doing fine 049 just a bit tired, i didn't get that much sleep lately"

He then slowly walks to you and without thinking he just quickly hugs you making you flinch and panic, his hands are deadly and kill anyone who gets touched by them.

...

Wait, you were still alive? How? You didn't even know what to say as you look over at the researcher and MTF who were behind the glass window who were observing you.

The researcher was frantically scribblings notes down all fascinated as the MTF stared at you big big eyes as they looked to each other and then back at you again

It took even 049 a second to realize that he hugged you as the quickly backed off from you and his hands back behind his as he stared at you.

He was just as surprised as everyone was as the gently took his shaking hand back and carefully touched your forehead, nothing happened.

You both realized you couldn't get hurt by his power as you just pulled him into a bone crushing hug that took 049 to a surprise as he quickly hugged you back.

You were still under a bit of shock but happyness, truth is you haven't gotten many hugs in your past and nowadays you were quite touch starved.

So just suddenly getting and giving a hug just pulls out all your happyness knowing you're finally in someones arms again.

As you felt 049 hugging you tighter your face felt wet, you came to the thought it was tears but your eyes were dry. And then you realized. Those tears weren't yours but 049's

You quickly looked up at his mask where his eyes are exposed as you can see faint tear drops falling and trailing down his mask as more tears are forming at his eyes.

"049?! W-why are you crying? Are you okay? Did i do something wrong?"

"N-no my dear. I'm just so happy you didn't die.. and that. That i can give you the hug i wanted to give you before!"

You were in awe seeing him in happy tears after that nuztling into his neck as the puts his bird mask beak on your head simply just resting there.

"You're Amazing Y/N, you're quite the smart woman and you can't let yourself be stepped over just by some researchers. You're worth more my friend and i am willing to help you by protecting you and being there for you."

049 says to you still with a bit of tears in his eyes

"I-id like that 049. I'd like that." You reply with a warm smile still being a bit worried for your friend. But you knew he was somewhat fine.

In the end you both stayed there in a hug until the MTF had to pull you away until you meet again.

#scp 049 #scp x reader #scp #scp 049 x reader #fluff x reader #scp foundation #scp foundation x reader #scp 049 fluff #scp fluff #this is my original work btw #i mostly copied this from my wattapd account and my book #my Wattpad book has nsf\/\/ on it so idk if i van post it here.#I'll most likely tag it as smut or lemon. or Nsft

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n3onstarss · 1 year

Text

Headcanons; ROTTMNT boys with a sea wolf reader!

relationship(s); Rise turtles x reader (separate obv)

romantic or platonic; romantic

reader type; sea wolf, yokai or mutant doesn't matter

Raphael

Honestly thinks it's endearing!

somehow he pulled you and then finds you as a sea wolf one day

instantly even more smitten cause first he had a cute partner and now said partner is a wolf??

sweet!

he'd take you fishing or swimming as often as a wolf and a turtle can

is glad you're still smaller than him too, he got lucky when you were a small wolf

he got unlucky with all the energy though-

he wants one, ONE, quiet turtle pile and as soon as everyone thinks he's asleep you're rolling on your back and Leo and Donnie are whisper fighting and Mikey is trying to copy you while you both chirp and yip at eachother

why does everyone he knows that's his age have such high energy??

either way, he'd just gather everyone back up and pass out (if that fails, use everyone as a mattress for his upper body to keep them still)

Definitely enjoys sharing fish or swimming activities

"You'd think someone with such pretty fur would hate getting it messy" as you're rolling in mud and swimming in the ocean

Doesn't mind any wolf habits (digging, swimming, growling, shaking water all over on purpose, eating raw fish, etc.) so long as you don't mind his turtle ones (creepily laying at the bottom of the pool like a swamp monster, chirping churning and huffing, he 100% eats bugs, etc.)

Donatello

Finds it intriguing! Sea wolves aren't very well known, especially in NYC, so having you here to observe is interesting

even if, y'know, you're not there to be observed and half your habits aren't related anyways-

He already has a designated pool and sandbox, due to 3 out of 4 living water and/or wanting to dig, and will gladly sit in the pool while you do whatever (wet sand is ick.)

will also release live minnows or fish on cleaning day (AFTER it's clean.) so everyone can go wild and hunt, but mostly you two though

(Leo is still young so his diet is mostly herbivorous, Raph doesn't chase things to hunt and Mikey doesn't even like fish)

Petting your fur, especially if it's soft but either way, quickly becomes a stim or action of comfort.

if something is too stressful or overwhelming he'll kinda wave you over and latch onto your arm.

Constant all nighters! Stargazing, sitting together, hanging out with him while he works on projects, video games. you name it he'll do it!

"You HAVE to stop dragging mud and sand into the pool!"

as if he doesn't also do that-

Will hiss back at you when you growl, even if it's not towards him. it's a either a contest for the loudest or most intimidating or to extra intimidate the person

refuses to share fish with you. it's not that he doesn't like sharing stuff with you, the texture is gross and it's especially bad if you eat it raw. he'll stick to eating pizza and OCCASIONALLY frogs to freak Mikey out

Leonardo

Oh he LOVES it!!

you're soft and you swim and you're probably high energy and ough

match made in hell /pos

you both would annoy the shit out of everyone

running laps like that one meme of the person bouncing off the walls

constantly begs Raph for things and if it doesn't work asks you to help him puppy eyes his way into it (which is fine cause it's usually something you both like)

actually talks to you about his insecurities 😱

but seriously, he trusts you with his life and will fight beside you in battle every chance he gets no matter what

Donnie needs a portal mid battle? you're coming too. You're chasing a villain down? it doesn't matter that you're faster, he's coming too. never leaves your side if he can help it

will let you flop over him or will flop on you. constantly makes 'this blanket is rumbling' or 'this mattress is so boney' jokes

"Their fur is so soft cause it's full of secrets." will make mean girls references about your fur, especially if you just went swimming and shook off so now you're all poofy

Back and forth bad puns.

Will swim or fish with you at any time! loves spending time with you in both of your elements

purposefully breaks into fancy ass hotels with you to use the pools there, it lets you swim in salt water and him in fresh!

Loves when you shake off in his direction, he thinks it's funny, and he'll do it right back!

Michelangelo

Adores it! big fluffy partner :)

will make you try any fish related cuisine he decides to test out!

refuses to swim with you. box turtles hate water and, while he can deal with it, he'd prefer not to most of the time

He will, however, make everyone go to a pond or something for a barbeque/picnic and then you both get to do what you like together!

loves cuddles and will tackle you whenever you enter the lair-

Bounces off the wall occasionally, brings you down to Earth other times though

he's definitely come up with some fun battle tactics that combine your strengths! One of which is wolf-o-rama, which is just whip-o-rama but you're clinging for dear life to the chains and being thrown at the villain-

It's that one dynamic where the bigger one is less scary than the smaller one and it's the funniest thing to the Hamato household

Lights candles because he knows your sense of smell is stronger and the sewers suck.

"Look at them and tell me there's a god!"

insists your insane as a joke but loves you for it at the same time

will gladly spend all night drawing and watching cartoons!!

#sorry Mikeys list is shorter #im not good at writing him yet-#tmnt x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #leonardo x reader #michelangelo x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt x reader

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neoncrowpen · 2 years

Note

hey crow! i loved the tommy yandere fic soooo i'm requesting more :) could i request yandere paul AND chani?? like idk an outsider tryna take you or something, anything tbh - i'd just love yandere/dark paul and chani because uhhhhh - iminlovewithzendayaandtimotheenotthat-itmatters thanks xo

(Please check triggers before consuming this content. Tread lightly. Put under read more cut for: kidnapping, violent death, forced violence, cannibalism, limb loss, and forced suicide. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.)

Your face was bleeding from three different points. The first was a sharp punch to the nose. Wet blood ran over your lips. The second was the point where your hairline met your face where a guard named Xerxes slammed your head into the wall. The third point was your cheek. A long, thin cut where Xerxes struck you first. That’s what it took to get you here in his ship.

The cool, dark night hid him and his colleagues from the sun. Your head tilted down, looking through the glass window. They were there somewhere hiding in the sand. A kick to your side drew your attention away from the window. A guard’s hand grabbed the rope crossing your chest tightly and pulled it to the center of the floor in the cabin. You came face to face again with Xerxes.

“You’re worth all of this trouble, you know that?” His smile was warped. As if bugs crawled inside his mouth, stealing his teeth. His pale green skin told you that he hadn’t been fully human or fully himself in a while. His boot pressed down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. “You’ve really got no idea how rich I’m going to be when I turn you in.”

“I’m just an engineer,” you spat. “I’m worth nothing to you. There’s hundreds of us.”

“There’s no one like you.” Xerxes nodded towards the front crew. “Let’s go. We’re on a timed schedule.” The ship roared to life and then power quickly dissipated. Xerxes grunted. Power slowed. It came in and out like waves, flickering in certain places.

“Sir! It’s one of our propellers! It’s stuck!” a crew member called out. As chaos ignited around the cabin, you second guessed the crew member’s observation. A propeller failure couldn’t take out the entire ship’s power system. Ships didn’t work that way. All electricity in the front cabin powered down. A low sound turned all screens and lights off. You heard angry shouting from Xerxes and his crew around him. You tried looking for your own foot, kicking the air in front of you, but you saw nothing.

A warm hand pulled you away from the cabin. You started to fight against it until her voice soothed you.

“Don’t fight. It’s just me.” Chani said. Power flickered back on, revealing Chani to the guards close to you. One guard raised a long sword over his head. Before he could bring it down onto both you and Chani, a command stopped him. The guard choked on his breath. He froze mid-action. The energy in the room changed. Low whispers clouded your hearing until a single voice made a second command.

“Kill yourself,” Paul used The Voice. He stepped into your view. His blue eyes never seemed so daunting until now. Where Chani’s reminded you of the night sky, you saw the ocean in Paul’s. Both were boundless, but the difference was that Paul intended to drown everyone in this room. His eyes flickered to you for a moment. He took in all the blood spilled and drying on your skin. Paul added to his cruel order. “Sink your blade into your face.”

Without hesitation, the guard did as Paul ordered. He took his long sword, and let his face fall into the blade’s point. It sunk into his eye and protruded out from the back of his head. The guard’s body fell to the side. You covered your mouth from the bile that collected in your throat.

Two more guards ran into the narrowed space where Paul and Chani entered. Chani went blade to blade with the first one, putting herself in front of you. Paul took a misstep. His shield protected him from receiving the full cut from the second guard. You looked to the freshly dead guard, noticing his longsword. If you could get to the blade…

“Enough!” Xerxes boomed. He cut through the fight and grabbed you by your neck. An electric shock sent a numbing, burning pain through your back to your legs. Your scream caught everyone’s attention.

“Y/N!” Chani cried out. Her hand reached out to you. Two guards restrained her arms behind her back. Your vision blurred. Paul’s face wore no expression. Your legs felt like jelly. Your ears rung, your head vibrated.

“I can’t feel my legs,” you cried out. More tears blurred your vision. You tried kicking your feet. They only dangled in the air. Chani froze. Her mouth hung open from shock. Your body didn’t belong to you anymore. As if extra weight hung off of you and you no longer had control over it. You caught Paul’s smirk. It was a crack in his features.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been holding back,” Paul said. “Let them go.”Your body dropped to the ground. Xerxes and his men kept their hands raised in the air. Now, their bodily control didn’t belong to them either. Paul’s hand swept across your face, assessing the damage done. His hard gaze turned softer. “Go with Chani. I don’t want you to see this. I can’t stand it when you look so scared of me.”

Chani tucked her arms under yours, almost dragging you away from the cabin. You looked on as Paul used the voice again. He looked to Xerxes’ men. “Tear him open and fill your insides with his.”

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

Summary: Y/N's feeling icky about her body, but Harry loves her to bits and pieces, through thick and thin, in health and sick — and he always waits for her to come back to him.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Y/N's healthy.

All she sucks in is having a sane sleeping schedule due to her UNI otherwise she eats natural goodies, cook and bake home because it comforts her more that way and she works out every evening to stay fit.

Sometimes though, she’s lazy and lacks behind which’s proper humane but deep down it effects her and her mental health more than she admits and she isn’t able to start over again – it mostly happens after her periods.

Harry loves her the way she’s.

Even if she’s clumsy, bumbling, procrastinating, overly enthusiastic to mend her life at 3 am, snotty and sloth-y in her periods, confident and positive around people, kind and loving whenever she comes to meet him, whiny and cuddly when she’s sick, jealous and grumpy with his attention not on her —- he loves her in every way possible, to rivers and to sea his love could never stutter for her ever.

He loves how she’s not overly toned, having soft squishy spots which Harry undeniably wants to admire and kiss shamelessly amount of times -- like -- her plummy pretty thighs that Harry likes to nestle his head in-between making her wriggle and squirm under his grasp, her overly cute tummy that Harry dies to pepper sweet adoring kisses and petal his lips round her belly button, everytime they’re cuddled up his bicep’s always looped her around her tummy to feel it rising up and down in calm rhythm, and oh! her tender titties, they’re actually his favourite babies and he loves to fondle them in his big calloused palms brushing his thumb over the sensitive perky nub and basks in the glittery whimpery mewls of hers.

He loves that she’s curvy and gives zero fucks if she’s skinny or not.

He thinks his baby’s perfect.

So perfect he actually feels the bubbling of devotion and affection filling to the brim of his heart’s chambers and leaking out and upon his ribs tickling him.

Y/N's his person and he worships her with his whole heart.

From some days though, she’s feeling devastatingly insecure about all her things Harry’s in love with and she has no-control over it how much she tries.

Harry’s observing that all with optimism (one of his great quality's that like a lion sly about his prey, he keeps an eye on everything but pretends otherwise). He has his intense gaze fixed on her when she’s taking a look of herself in the mirror for rather too long, running her hands down her body and practically shuddering.

He glances from over his laptop and drops everything he's doing watching her go monkies, sweating buckets and over exercising than her usual time.

He brings her closer and infront of him, pressing her to his chest and coiling his forearm around her shoulders whining a, “Baby..!” when they were brushing their teeth and despite of standing beside him and teasing him occasionally like she usually does she stuffs her face into the crest of his back and hides herself there to have minimal contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Her body dysmorphia spiking dangerously high.

“Deprived me of your cuddles. woke me up so early, granny.” She huffs lying through her teeth and how much his embrace was strong enough to keep her in place she still managed to wiggle out taking her previous cosy position, but he could feel her muscles tensing and an awkward silence falling over them.

He didn’t pry much. He wants to give her as much space as she requires to come back to him hale and hearty, as she always does and whatever happens he never forgets to remind her how much he loves her every night.

They were watching rom-coms on Netflix back to back with her curled up into his side with a spongy white wool knitted blanket thrown over them and his cheek was smashed atop her head popping in peanuts every now and then when out of certain she spoke pointing at the actress, “You know she got her ribs removed to get that shrinky waist.” Harry frowned at that. His face itching into disbelief and concern under the bouncing glow of telly.

He affixes his gaze down at her trying to read what’s cooking up in that genius brain of her's which isn’t being very rational and genius right now, they immediately turns soft and caring when she blinks up at him purely.

She squeaks, nose crashing against his collarbones when he scooches her up in his lap grabbing onto her knees to make her straddle his torso and he grumbles cutely when she tries not put all of her weight on him and doesn’t melts into him as his sweet lovie would used to do receiving a smack on her bum on his end.

He’s afraid that an evil version of her chomped onto his dear baby alive.

“Nothing else matters if all ye’ organs are packed safely and healthily inside you,” He tells her brushing loose frays of her hair behind her earlobe and rubs his thumb in gentle strokes over her treacly pulsing point, “Was just telling you ...” She mumbles, dotting touches on his knuckles and playing with his bare cold fingers.

It’s true, she was rambling out facts about the movie and cast out of habit because no-way she’d ever go through any surgeries to change herself to become someone she isn’t.

“Swear!” She yawps out in convincing high pitch when Harry squints down at her with his lips scrunched, one eye twitching in doing so.

“Alrighty. I believe you.” He cradles her cheeks in his palms and brings her mighty close to him to peck her cupid bow, then her bottom lip and the corners of her smiling mouth to suckle generous amount of whines from her and then kisses her lovingly – hands streaming down her spine and then resting atop her dip.

He thought she was ready to come back to him, to share her problem with him and Harry really wanted to bug in, to not let her fight her battle alone and take half of her hardships from her fretting self but guess not.

They were about to have sex when panic seeped in Y/N's eyes and her cheeks blazed up in that of embarrassment as she rushed to switch off the lamps that were the only source of light in their room.

“Moppet.” Harry sighed, knowing exactly what’s happening and she isn’t as foxy in covering it up as she’s thinking herself to be.

“Why wouldn’t y'want me t'see gorgeous self of yours?” His tone punctured and hurt, feeling useless for not knowing how to cheer her up and break her worries down. He smoothens his hands behind her to lock his arm around her waist, fingertips making grape sized indents into the flesh of her hip-bone as she streaks the tip of her nose up and down the crook of his neck, murmuring meekly against his salty skin while he hugs her warmly.

“’M just feelin’ shy.” He giggles at her response puckering his lips against her hairline to pet tiny, tiny kisses there as she fists her hands against his taught chest.

“Not somethin’ I haven’t seen before, love bug.” He blows raspberries against the underside of her jaw and their mouths meet into a messy, giggling, teeth clanking kiss when she sinks into pillows allowing him to cocoon her in his heat.

“I love you, Y/N. No matter what.”

The last dam breaker for them was this little get together at Sarah and Mitch's baby shower.

She matched her outfit with Harry. Cute lavender coloured little sweater blouse that was familiar to the baggy baby yarn cardigan Harry was wearing, it accentuated her curves and her bosom so prettily -- her midriff peeking from where the buttons weren’t closed and their jeans were painted (they did it themselves one Sunday when it was extra boring and inactive).

Y/N felt uncomfortable in her own clothes. A bitterness spreading inside her for herself and all she wanted was to escape away from her own skin.

She knows she’s loved and welcomed and cherished by her friends and family and the love of her life, most importantly. Then why was she feeling so icky about herself? Why everything's draining her and exhausting her?

Harry obviously could see through the gloomy tenebrous energy overshadowing her as he stood in the corner of the room grabbing the sorbet he poured in two glasses for them.

A sour guzzle of tears choking his throat and his limbs weakening letting the painful heartbreak seep into him when he watches her being fidgety and fiddling with the loops of her jeans, tugging her blouse every passing second and he’s sniffling a hiccup deep in his lungs when she shrinks into herself in dejection staring out of the window without any purpose.

Harry feels awful to startle her when he plops down beside her, coodling her closer to himself and tucks her head beneath his chin subtly and cups his palm under her jaw to make her look in eyes his eyes.

“Hi beautiful,” His tone had a saddening waver in it and his irises mossed bleak when Y/N remains unresponsive, zoning in and out of her own head feeling herself prisoned into her own invasive thoughts.

“You w'na go home darling?” He gives her a wet smile clearing his throat and blinking the stubborn moisture in his eyes away when Y/N nodded without any vivid expression.

All the way back home he denounced himself of not making her feel loved enough, to not to pest her soon about what she’s feeling and letting her slide deeper into the dark hole.

He thinks he’s a piece of shit.

Y/N wanted to dig the earth with her own nails and hide into it and never show her face again, she was overly ashamed of herself.

His hand was holding onto hers tightly, never letting it go as he led them through the hallway and his head perked up in confusion when she stopped them abruptly and lunged to wrap herself around him like he’s the last silver of her hope and the reason to live.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” There comes the first sob after ages of suffering and bottling it all in, not shocked at all he was expecting it to happen. Gently he picks her up and wraps her legs around him, keeping his support firm under her bum as she cried into his soft white t-shirt.

Carefully he sits them on the edge of the bed and tries to pry her soaky flushed face in his cradle but she refuses to show him, clutching onto his cardigan and whimpering brokenly.

“I just feel so disgusting,” Her sob scratches out of her throat and for a second he thought he heard her wrong, that her feeble crying’s playing some kind of a sick game with his heart.

“Harry do something I don’t want to feel disgusting.” But, when she pleaded helplessly a cold shiver settled in his bone marrow spreading an agonising burn in his stomach.

Gently he stirs her away from his chest to look at her, meeting their foreheads together while his thumb wiped her tears away and smoothed over her wabbly lips in profound tenderness.

“My beloved,” He whispers fondling his nose against hers and her eyes flutters into realm of calms, shaky breath falling over his lips as he brings her trembling fingertips towards them and pecks them feverishly.

“The love of me life, me heart.” He continues, “Shhh. Shh baby ‘s okay to cry but don’t tire y'self.” He hushes her when she whimpers loudly at his coy affirmation.

“I’m here with you, waiting f'you, watching y’goin’ through a stony path so I could be there to hold you whenever you trip –-,” He pets her hair, cupping the back of her neck to plant his lips bitten red from worry to her puffy damp eyelids and Y/N becomes a gooey lax of candle that’s been burning for tiring amount and finally her lover came to blew the agonising flame away putting her to peace as he coos snuggling her in his cordial embrace, “You’ve been so strong to yourself and ‘m so proud of me baby.”

“I’m always here. Never away from you, always right by y'side.” His palms bending around her ribs to smush her as intimately close as possible.

“How d'ya want your huggies babylove?” He simpers down at her darlingly, huffing out in relief seeing her relaxing -- her shoulders sinking from him massaging the knots in them.

“Tight.” She mumbles timidly. The gleam in her glossy eyes returning when Harry hugs her as she wished, squishing her in right places and not suffocating her at all – their breaths in sync chests flushed against eachother.

“I love you cuddly, and care f’you.” He kisses her on lips then goes to hug her right back.

“I love you too, Har. Thank you.” She sniffs in his woodsy scent grazing her touch up and down his back, smooching a soft kiss at his cheek.

#ME WRITING AN OVERLY EMOTIONAL AND SELF DESTRUCTING PIECE #yahoooooooo yipeee #soft tender harry lives in my heart rent free #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles dirty one shotsssss #harry styles one direction #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry angst #harry styles #cute harry #dirty harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff imagine #harry smut #fluff #hsh #dom harry

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Text

is this all i have?

^ hey all, a little different fic I have for you today.

If you decide to read it, it’ll give you some insight into why I haven’t been posting a lot ... it says more than I probably would normally share about my struggles but @genshin-karebear encouraged me to be honest and, so, here I am. (thank you, friend)

Warnings -> negative self-talk, comfort, one curse word

I sat at my desk, head in my hands and tears on the verge of spilling over the edges of my eyes. For days I’d been struggling, frantically, painfully trying to get back into the swing of things with nothing to show for it other than tear stained clothes and empty pieces of paper.

Where did it all go? Where was the spark that used to ignite in my heart when I sat down to write the words which once came so easy? Am I spent, have I used up all that skill in a matter of months … what’s wrong with me.

A single tear cascaded down my cheek as I stared at the massive nothingness that lay before me. The taunting paper which looked back at like a score card of failures after failures, as if to remind me that I will never be a person worthy of it’s time. I rubbed my eyes, pushing my glasses over my brow and feeling the hot liquid which rested in them, this would be the tenth time I’ve done this today.

“I’m just spent and I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore.” My lip quivered, my cheeks became wet, my eyes blurry. “I’m a failure.” I whispered to myself shaking my head and holding onto the last ounce of energy I could muster - it didn’t matter that the sun was warm and shined through my window, there was nothing strong enough to push through my veil of despair.

I looked out the window and saw the world move on around me; it never waits, while it pushes on I’m left behind. The trees continue to spread out their leaves in an attempt to soak up the necessary nutrients they need to survive, seeds float on the wind looking for a place to rest, bugs move from place to place at random, the cat lounges on the chair lost in its dreams as its fur is warmed by the sun I cannot seem to feel. I’m jealous of that cat.

I contemplate getting up and doing something different, but there is a voice inside of me that tells me to push through, to keep going and write something - put anything down on this piece of paper. Fuck you, paper … you are nothing to me and yet you have total control over my pen. I’m angry and frustrated at an inanimate object when I should really be mad at myself. It’s my fault I cannot get anything out --- I’m broken, that must be the only answer.

The tears have all fallen, water droplets speckle the parchment and my eyes look onward without any ounce of life left. I feel empty and hollow, I have no more energy for it all and so I lay down the pen, drop my head to the table and close my eyes.

I don’t know how long I sit like this, time has been moving so slowly for me as of late that this feels like nothing new. I don’t even hear the sound of the door opening, or footsteps headed my way. In fact, I barely register there is another presence in the room until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Hazel?” I stir, but only enough to turn my head onto its side and glance at the person who called me by name, a name I didn’t feel I had the right to claim. I looked up and felt my stomach drop, of course it would be him … the one person who I continued to fail over and over again. “Are you okay?”

I bit the inside of my lip, desperate to keep my emotions in check. I hated looking weak, and complaining about my frustrations only made me feel worse. These worries and inadequacies are my own issues to deal with, there was no need to drag others down into my sorrow, so I changed the subject.

“You’re back earlier than I thought you’d be.” I leaned up from the desk and turned myself to face him. Instinctually, I placed my hand on the blank paper, an attempt to hide my shame.

“Yes, there wasn’t much for me to do, it seemed everyone had it under control and I didn’t see a need to stick around.” He placed a few items down on the table in the study. It was some of the only sounds which broke the monotony of my day. “… did I disturb your work?”

“No, I only just started.” I lied, grinning to add another layer to my coverup.

“Oh, normally you get started much earlier than this …” His observation was accurate, even if it stung a little. He was right after all, I’d been sitting at this desk since we parted ways earlier in the morning … I felt chained to it, obligated to do something worthwhile at this god forsaken wooden nightmare.

“Normally, yes. I just, uh, had some things to get done before this …”

“Well I’m sure you are eager to get started, I’ll leave you to it.” He looked down at me kindly, and I yearned to have more than just his words and kind eyes at the moment, but I knew it wouldn’t be possible to ask that of him.

“Sounds good, I’ve got a lot of ideas and think I can get some good stuff done today.” Another lie.

“I believe you will.” He looked at me and my brain screamed. It battled between the side of reaching for him and letting him go. As busy as he was, he didn’t need to be bothered by my struggles. So, in an effort to keep them under control I pushed my knuckles to the small space between my chin and lips, the nail of my index finger digging into the corner of my mouth for extra sensory support. I smiled weakly at him and watched as he made his way through the threshold, disappearing beyond my line of sight. When the door closed I stood from my chair and walked to the window, my hand extended to capture the rays of the sun which normally brought me comfort, but today only illuminated my skin.

The emotions bubbled up in my chest and, like a sad child who didn’t get what they wanted, I removed my glasses, dropped my head into my hand and cried. Soft, quiet sobs spilled from my mouth while my eyes remained shielded by the darkness of my hand. Something caught my attention and as soon as I allowed my vision to adjust to the source, dark cloth and a flash of red envelope me.

“What …?”

“I knew something wasn’t right.” His voice was so soothing, his arms tight around my body, his chest inviting and the way his hand spread across my back ... it all meshed perfectly together. “For days, you’ve been acting strange … I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

“What .. what are you talking about ..?” my voice was strained, telling of my emotions, and still I tried to push through. “I’m fine, I-I just got something in my eye.”

“You know you can be honest with me.”

“I know …”

“So, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“This isn’t something to worry you over.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulled back so he could look at me and I was glad my glasses were still off. I couldn’t bear to see him clearly right now. “Something is clearly weighing on you, how could I not offer my support?

“It’s stupid, and I just need to get over it.”

“If it makes you feel this way, then whatever problem you have isn’t stupid.” He pressed, and his words, combined with the closeness of him, was starting to break my resolve. I didn’t want to put anything else on his shoulders … I didn’t want to appear weak … I didn’t want to be a failure.

“I’m … struggling.” He didn’t let me go or say anything, which made me fill the silence with my own pitiful words.

“I’ve been trying for days to get something, anything out and every time I do the words don’t flow like they did. I’m worried … did I write all that I’m ever going to write. What if I can’t do it anymore … what if this is all I have …” The tears began to slip down my cheeks, some found a home in the bend of my lips and filled my mouth with the taste of salt. I shook my head and bit my tongue, this is stupid, I’m acting like a child. I tried to push away from him but he only tightened his grip. “God, there are so many more important things to be upset about, and here I am whining about something so petty.”

“When was the last time you took a break? Perhaps, that may help?”

“I’ve done that … I’ve taken such a long break -- I-I don’t want to take a break anymore. Why is this so hard.” I felt the pressure of my brows as they moved closer to one another, the bending of my nose as I scrunch my face out of frustration. “I’m wasting time and people are waiting on me … how long can I ask them to wait … how long do I deserve their patience …”

“Has anyone pushed you to work faster than you can?”

I parted my lips and ran my tongue over the back of my teeth, “No … but I can’t expect them to wait forever. There’s gotta be something wrong with me, right? That’s the only explanation I have at this point. I’m not good at it anymore … I’m worried and stressed and ... just ... so sad.”

His hands slipped around my arms, one resting against my shoulder and the other cupping my face. “I know this feels like an impassable obstacle, but you haven’t lost anything … you just need to give it time.”

“Haven’t I done that?”

“You told me you’ve been in here trying to force yourself everyday, have you really taken time to rest?” I shrugged my shoulders and shifted my eyes away from him.

“You don’t take breaks either …” I mumbled, my words were an effort to get even and show him how the suggestion was nothing but a silly statement that had no meaning.

“Maybe, I should.” I didn’t want to look at him, but I could tell his tone had grown more thoughtful. He let his hands fall to my wrist, the feeling of his glove against my skin was somehow comforting. “Come with me.” He gripped tightly and led me through the door of the study faster than I could protest. We walked down the stairs, confused maids and staff staring at us as we blew by them before leaving through the heavy doors of the winery and onto the dirt path which held endless possibilities of destinations. I protested, but there was no escaping his grip and, soon, all my effort was on keeping up with his pace.

When I thought I couldn’t take another step we stopped, he released my hand and with him no longer keeping me upright, I fell into the grass below me, my arms sprawled outward. I breathed in deeply and relished the feeling of the wind against my face.

“It’s been a long time since I moved that quickly.”

“How do you feel?”

“Let me get back to you on that… ” I laughed and rested my hand against my chest, the beating of my heart pounding there as I tried to breathe with hot lungs.

I looked up at the sky, the vastness of it stealing my vision and removing anything else. My skin was tickled by the blades of grass that brushed against it, and I watched as a small bee flew over my face his swaying movement mesmerizing. When was the last time I was outside like this… it felt like such a long time ago.

I stretched my hand toward the sky above me, the blue color peeking through my spread fingers, my palm cutting off the fuzzy clouds that moved lazily along. His face came into view and I realized I had yet to put my glasses back on.

He bent down to meet me, his back falling into the grass at my side, hair following the pull of gravity and spreading out in the grassy hill.

“I can’t believe you are laying in the grass.” I chuckled and dropped my hand back onto my chest, turning my head to look at him.

“I’m known to have a few surprises up my sleeve.” He responded, turning his head to look at me, the light from above gracing his face and somehow only making him even more beautiful than he already was. It was so blinding that I had to look away.

“Hah, well, color me impressed.” For the first time in days, I feel a small reprieve from the darkness which had seeped into my skin. Something internal began to tingle, starting from my fingertips and slowly up my arms and as I took in a deep breath the smell of sweet flowers filled my nose. “Thank you, Diluc.”

He reached for the hand which was moving back and forth above the grass at my side, his strong, large grip providing protection and comfort, and for the first time in days, the feeling of warmth.

“Promise to tell me next time you are struggling; don’t hide away alone.”

“I’ll do my best.”

---

I feel much like Kiki did in Kiki’s Delivery Service ... how can I fly again when I feel so ... bleh

I’ll keep trying, all <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #self insert #genshin self insert #diluc #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact diluc #hazelsmusings

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chemicalvelocity · 3 years

Text

Happy Friday! I need therapy

So I wrote a fic for Fingers in my mouth Friday! Hope Y'all enjoy it.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings apply

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel

Word Count: 3545

Read Below the Cut:

Dean's not a creep. He's not, he swears. It's just that he's... noticing things now that he's not on high alert for monsters anymore.

He remembers the first evidence of Castiel he'd ever seen, an angry burn scar of a handprint. He thought it was a demon's for christ's sake. He hadn't paid mind at the time to the fact that it took up his entire deltoid.

Now, however, he was absently tracing its outline after a shower, staring more through the mirror than at it while recalling the events of breakfast. Jack had playfully started the comparing hand sizes game that seems to entertain kids so much.

Dean hadn't even put any thought into it until it turned into everyone else doing it to humor him; which culminated in Dean foolishly slapping his palm to Cas's and then realizing just how much smaller his hand was.

Naturally, he'd joked it off and found his way out of the conversation, acting like it wasn't a bruise to his ego. He had thousand-yard stared his way through a shower, and now, here he was.

He carefully fitted his hand over the scar tissue on his shoulder, and yep, there it was, a literal physical reminder of Cas's massive hands. He got over himself as quickly as he could and threw on his clothes before going to the garage to wash Baby.

That turned out to be a bad idea, as many of Dean's ideas do. Cas was sat in a lawn chair with the tunnel doors cracked, rolling a joint. Dean had pointedly ignored him, turning to rinse the car until Cas spoke up.

"Would you like some?" He asked, looking over at Dean with a twist of his slender fingers as his tongue darted out to wet the rolling paper's adhesive. Dean swallowed.

"Y'know that shit's bad for you, right?" Dean grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it. He opened a drawer to pull out sponges and brushes, tossing them into nearby buckets and setting them down near Baby's rear fender

"I think you know that's not true." Castiel hummed, placing the fresh joint between his lips, bringing the flame of his zippo to the end, and inhaling deeply.

"Whatever, Stoney baloney... Don't you usually smoke out on the roof, anyway?" Dean asked, filling up the first bucket with hot water and suds, the second with only cold water.

"It's raining," Cas replied, voice husky from the strain of holding in a hit. "Frankly, the Bunker is well ventilated enough that I could smoke in the library... where we still keep ashtrays on the table, but I figured I'd come in here to keep it away from Jack." He mused, blowing his lungful of smoke out the door.

"Right... Gotta say Cas, I'm sure second-hand smoke doesn't affect 20-year-old Nephilim toddlers." Dean chuckled, saturating the sponge in the first bucket and slung the soap across the Impala's roof, leaning up to scrub away the dust and bugs that come from hauling her back and forth across the Midwest.

"No, but I don't want to influence him, he's very impressionable, you know." Cas flicked the collecting ash into a labelless beer bottle that sat discarded in his chair's cupholder.

"I wonder where he could've gotten that from. Claire came to visit for one weekend and all of a sudden you're Bob Marley!" Dean teased, and Cas narrowed his eyes at him.

"I am not a musician, nor a Rastafarian, Dean. Claire simply pointed out that I think too much, and that cannabis is known to help." He drew in a deep hit and outstretched his arm to Dean, the cigarette balanced between two fingers. Smoke twirled lazily into the air around him.

Dean made a show of rolling his eyes before coming over to pluck the smoke from Cas's possession. Cas watched him appraisingly as he took a drag, then another, and Dean almost choked when Cas's lips parted for the stream of smoke to travel neatly into his nostrils.

Okay, so Claire taught him how to french inhale. Dean idly wondered if he knew what ghosting was, before passing it back and returning to his task, pretending like his lungs didn't burn from the comparative lack of practice.

Dean hit the wall hard, his breath punched out of him with a grunt. He scrambled to his knees and whipped his head around to see Sam in a similar position nearby. Cas was still standing though now surrounded by three, very pissed-off demons, one of which had Dean's angel blade. Dean attempted to gather himself and help out, but his vision went sideways and he steadied himself against a table, opting to call out the angel's name, stupidly.

Cas had slashed the leg of the demon to his right and grappled the one to his left. As the first one went down, his palm met its forehead and smote it out of its meatsuit. The middle one charged him, but he spun the demon in his grip, shielding himself by launching his captive forward onto the blade, then seizing the neck of the remainder, holding him in place firmly. He turned to the bewildered hunters casually.

"Did you need him for anything else?" Dean bit down on his tongue in a failed attempt to reintroduce moisture to his mouth.

"N-No, Cas I think we're good, knock yourself out..." he rasped as Castiel tightened his grip on the demon's throat, and light burned out from under its skin. Sam and Dean had picked themselves up off the floor by now and made their way to the middle of the room.

"Good work, buddy," Dean panted as Cas piled up the bodies at his feet, and wiped blood away on his jeans. "Guess you hardly need us."

"Of course I do, You made an excellent distraction." Cas smiled and while Dean was sure it was a genuine statement, definitely felt the hit to his pride. Maybe he was just getting too old for this shit. Sam snorted at something and walked out. Dean didn't know what, but he didn't want to hit him any less for it.

"Hey, Cas, I have a bit of a concussion from the hunt the other night. Can you work a little magic?" Sam rubbed at his eyes, setting his laptop aside. Dean raised his eyebrows from his seat, taking a sip of beer. He wouldn't have asked Cas to expend any healing energy on himself, but Cas didn't protest. Instead, he hardly looked up from his book and snapped his fingers. Sam visibly relaxed. Dean did not.

"Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I'm gonna go grab some grub, probably just pick up a pizza and some beers or something." Sam held his hand out for the impala keys. Dean tossed them to him with half a mind.

When Sam was gone, he was still staring at Cas in confusion.

"Can I help you with something too, Dean?" He quirked an eyebrow over his book. Dean cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Nope, no, I'm okay, just a few scrapes. Can't have you wasting your mojo on that... I was just wondering why you didn't, uh, y'know," He tapped two fingers to his forehead and Cas's eyes turned up in a half-smile.

"I don't need to do that to heal."

"Oh... okay." He'd already asked a weird question, probably best not to pry into why Cas always touched him to heal. He tipped back the rest of his beer and fumbled around for an excuse of some sort to break the silence, but Cas stood first.

"I'm going to go find Jack. Let me know when Sam's back with dinner." He passed Dean with a warm squeeze to his shoulder. Dean watched him go, then realized just how long it's been since he's been laid. Too fucking long, apparently.

Yeah, no. Way too long. Dean's half-convinced Cas is fucking with him, too. His suspicion stemmed from Cas's sudden love of eating every meal with them and requesting things like wings or fries.

"Morning sunshine, Sam and Jack already left to go check out a case. I made pan...cakes..." Dean's sentence fell flat when his eyes met Cas entering in a half-buttoned-up shirt. His long fingers slipped buttons into place as he yawned his greeting and trudged his way to the coffee maker.

Dean was a little concerned that he noticed Cas's hands before he noticed the toned and tanned chest underneath the shirt. He ran a hand down his face and moved to pour more coffee. Cas passed over the pot and turned to the stack of pancakes, tossing two onto a plate and proceeding to destroy them with fruit and whipped cream.

"When was the last time we cleaned our firearms?" Cas asked, swirling his finger through the toppings of his breakfast before popping it in his mouth. Dean set his mug down, a little too hard. Cas gave him a look.

"Are you fucking with me?" Dean tried not to sound petulant, but he can't catch a single break. Cas bit his lower lip, and then cleared his throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Was his response, innocent and hid behind a sip of coffee. Dean pursed his lips.

"You- you don't?" Dean was momentarily taken aback. Was he so unbelievably tense that he'd imagined the whole problem?-

"No, Dean, you've been staring at my hands all week, I have no idea what you're talking about." he deadpanned.

Dean's face burned. He didn't think he was being obvious about it or anything. Cas was observant, though.

"At first I thought you were just insecure about your hand size, but surely you'd have gotten over that in a day. Then I did some research and decided to... Encourage you." He continued casually as if Dean wasn't praying for the earth to swallow him whole.

"I uh, appreciate that, Cas... Um, what conclusions exactly did you draw?" Dean squeaked out because frankly he still wasn't sure what was going on here.

"You may have a sexual preference for hands, which makes sense, given your previous statements regarding slapping." Cas hummed into his coffee and, yeah okay Dean needed to end this conversation before he melted from shame.

"Okay, right, got it, I'll stop staring." He managed, grabbing his mug and turning to leave before Cas grabbed his arm. He glanced down at the sudden warmth around his wrist, then up to meet Cas's cobalt gaze.

"I never told you to stop," Cas said calmly, loosening his grip to slip his fingers into Dean's hand and pull him closer. "Dean, I researched it." His expression was earnest, and Dean shuddered involuntarily.

"Listen, man, It's not like, a thing... It's just, well, you have nice hands, and you kinda marked me... with your very large hand." Dean still wanted to disappear, but Cas didn't seem too bothered.

"I wanted to tell you, I touch you when I heal because I like the excuse to," Cas murmured, raising his other hand to cup Dean's jaw. Dean's breath hitched. "I enjoy the warmth. Everything else is always so cold." Cas whispered, running his thumb lightly across Dean's bottom lip. Dean couldn't stop the noise he made as it caught on his nail.

Cas's pupils grew wide, and he curiously pushed his thumb deeper. Dean closed his lips over it and sucked gently, noting the faint taste of the strawberries Cas had put on his pancakes. Dean pulled back before he embarrassed himself any further.

"Uh," Dean's brain replied dumbly. "Can I kiss you?" His dick helped with that one.

"I just put my thumb in your mouth and you feel the need to ask-" Cas's snark was cut short by Dean pressing him up against the counter and slotting their lips together. Cas gripped the front of Dean's shirt and kissed him back like a man dying of thirst. This is why Dean's thought process is filled with question marks when Cas puts a hand firmly on his chest and pulls back to speak.

"I don't think the kitchen is the best place for this." He rumbled into their shared space. Dean perked back up when he realized the proposition.

"Did you wanna finish your breakfast first? I can't guarantee we'll be back in here any time soon." Dean wiggled his eyebrows at the angel.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Dean," Cas smiled. "I'd love to. While I do I think you probably want to go get ready." Cas wiped the look off Dean's face when he reeled him back in for another kiss.

"O-oh, yeah, okay. Meet you in my room in ten." And then he was speedwalking out of the kitchen.

Dean turned off the shower after a very thorough cleaning and wrapped his towel around his waist, hurrying back down the hallway to his room. Cas was sitting on the bed patiently.

"Hello, Dean." He smiled, reaching up to tug off his tie. Dean's throat went dry again.

"Hi," Dean was clutching his towel like a lifeline. Cas observed him fondly as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Did you want me to put something on? Or..."

Cas just chuckled and beckoned him closer. Dean stood between his legs and his heart dropped out of his ass when Cas took his hands and pulled gently, signaling for Dean to kneel. He lowered himself slowly to his knees and looked up at Cas, expectant, and not at all freaking out on the inside. Cas leaned in to kiss him again. That, he could work with.

"I want you to put your hands on my knees, and you can't move them unless I say so, is that alright?" Castiel spoke when they parted.

Oh.

Apparently, hand kink isn't the only thing Cas researched. Dean felt the command go straight to his dick. He nodded hastily, but Cas said nothing, only waited, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes, Cas." He breathed, and Cas grinned and shrugged off his shirt, tossing it into Dean's desk chair.

"Good. Get comfortable." Dean sat back on his heels and placed his hands on top of Cas's thighs. Cas placed both of his hands on Dean's shoulders, rubbing small circles in the muscle before he slid them upwards to massage the back of Dean's neck. When Dean was staring up at him with hooded eyes and humming his appreciation, Castiel's patience grew thin.

Cas held the back of Dean's neck steady, tracing the fingers of his right hand down Dean's temple and across his lips. This time, Dean didn't have any reservations about darting his tongue out to meet them. Cas inhaled deeply through his nose and pushed his index and middle fingers into Dean's mouth.

Dean sighed and let himself go, he lapped at Cas's fingers like he was starving. He held Cas's heated gaze and felt his dick wake back up, twitching underneath his towel.

"So good, you're such a good boy for me, Dean." Cas praised. Dean thought he might pass out. The feeling of Cas inside him, even if it was just his fingers sliding along his tongue was heady. He looked down and took notice of the increasing tightness of Cas's pants. Cas slid his fingers out and leaned back on his elbows. Dean panted, his fingers gripping Cas's thighs with the effort of keeping still.

"Would you like something else, Dean?" Cas smirked down at him. "All you have to do is ask." Dean screwed his eyes shut and swallowed his pride.

"I want," He let out a shuddering breath as Cas ran a hand through his hair. "I want to suck you off."

"You can move your hands now." Cas hummed and leaned his head back. Dean practically sprung forward, ignoring the ache in his calves as he latched his mouth onto one of the angel's nipples. His hands made quick work of Cas's belt and fly, tugging firmly at his pockets to get them off. When Cas's flushed erection came free, Dean leaned forward to mouth at the head and cup his balls.

Cas wove a hand into Dean's hair and pulled. Dean moaned around the cock in his mouth, drawing a deep groan from Cas in response. Dean drank in the sound and relaxed his jaw to swallow him down further, bobbing his head rapidly.

"Dean." Cas sounded wrecked, and Dean's head snapped up to attention.

"Yeah?" He asked, breath heaving as he leaned up to his eye level.

"May I-"

"Anything, Angel, seriously." He pressed his lips to the heated flesh under Cas's jaw, sucking hard and nipping gently.

"I want to fuck you." Cas gasped, leaning into Dean's mouth. Dean nodded and climbed to his feet to get the lube from his nightstand. Cas sat up and wrenched Dean's towel away. His eyes roved Dean's body appreciatively before pulling him down on the bed. "Lie down on your front, please." He purred, and Dean was on his elbows in an instant, handing back the lubrication.

Cas caressed the contours of Dean's back reverently, before gingerly parting Dean's cheeks and licking a broad stripe across his hole. Dean felt his whole body twitch.

"Fuck, C-Cas..." Dean whined out, completely sideswiped by Cas's impromptu rimjob. He helplessly thrust his hips back against Cas's grip. Castiel reeled back a single hand and gave Dean's ass a hard smack. Dean dropped his face into his pillow with a keen from the back of his throat.

"Sit still, Dean. Let me take care of you." He growled, mouthing kisses from the base of Dean's spine to the cleft of his ass again. He laved his tongue in tantalizing circles, fucking it in and out nimbly and drawing a chorus of breathy sounds from the hunter.

"Please, Sweetheart... I need you... Need you inside me, c'mon." Dean whimpered, writhing under the sensation of Cas's hot breath and slick tongue. Cas finally gave in and sat up, reclaiming the bottle of lube to squeeze a sizeable portion directly onto Dean's entrance. Dean shivered from the sudden cold, only to cry out again when Cas's strong index finger slid in with very little resistance.

Cas continued to pepper Dean's shaking shoulders with wet kisses as he thrust his finger in, curling it hard against Dean's prostate and savoring the faint sound of Dean nearly wailing into his pillow. He slid in a second finger and scissored them back and forth to make way for a third. At this point, Dean had lifted his head and turned towards Cas with pleading eyes. Cas leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

"You're doing so well, Dean... Are you ready?" Cas mumbled into Dean's mouth.

"Yeah, Christ... Yes, Cas, please." Dean managed to get his knees under himself and Cas slicked himself up, working the head of his cock into Dean's fluttering hole. He clutched at Dean's hips and slowly rocked himself in deeper. "Fuck!" Dean yelped, trying to meet Cas's thrusts to no avail.

"Relax, my love." Cas moaned, rolling his hips into Dean, captivated by the catch of skin around him. "Do you want to move?" He asked, and released his iron hold on Dean's waist with a chuckle when Dean nodded eagerly. Dean thrust back against Cas with abandon. A surprised gasp was drawn from both of them as Cas sped up his thrusts to match. Dean was going to come if Cas didn't slow down, so he gathered his thoughts enough to speak up.

"Cas, wait. Can I flip?" He panted, and Cas's onslaught came to a stop.

"Of course, Dean." He pulled out carefully and leaned away for Dean to position himself on his back. Castiel admired the flush that spread down Dean's neck and covered most of his chest. He leaned forward to suck dark hickeys into Dean's collarbone to contrast. Dean reached down to guide Cas back inside, sighing amorously when he was seated again.

Cas rocked in and out once more with renewed enthusiasm. He snapped his hips forward, causing Dean to arch up off the bed with a shout. Stars burst behind his eyelids as Cas lifted Dean's legs to wrap around his waist and repeated contact his prostate shot sparks through his bloodstream.

"Ah-fuck, Cas, Baby... I'm gonna come. Are you almost there?" Dean gasped and reached up to pull Cas down for a vehement kiss when he grunted his confirmation. Dean felt the heat of his release coil deep in his gut and rocked up into Cas with a fervor, moaning heavily into Cas's mouth with each collision of their hips.

Then the tension in Dean's core snapped, and he was coming without so much as a moment's attention to his dick, clinging to Cas's shoulders with a fucked out whine. Cas kept going and Dean's synapses felt like they were being deep-fried as Castiel's stuttering hips drove him in deeply one, two then a final time as he emptied himself into Dean with a low groan. He then pulled out slowly and rolled off a now depleted Dean to spoon him.

"I think I'm in love with you." Dean wheezed, and Castiel grinned into his hair.

"I'm glad I could help you come to that epiphany. I love you too, Dean."

#Spn #spn fanfiction #destiel fanfic #my writing #minors dni #dean winchester #Castiel #Fimmf #Happy Friday!!#destiel #deancas #casdean #dean x cas #supernatural fanfiction

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

A.N : finally i managed to finish this T.T here you go, vampire seokjin with yoongichi ! i dont know if this could do justice to my prompts earlier ksjdhfs but i hope you guys like it :] enjoy ~

TW : emeto, graphic description of vomiting, and blood

It was a chill night between them, only sounds of drama that played on TV could be heard. Seokjin tilts his head, checking the man on his lap if he already falls asleep. But their eyes meet. Seokjin placed a kiss on his forehead and hums, "Your fever already breaking down"

"Mhm, i feel a lot better, but still kinda queasy", Yoongi mumbled. He whined as he curled himself further, " I'm so tired of this bug hyung". Seokjin giggles and ruffles the black hair that now is longer, forming a mullet on the back—and Seokjin loves it so much, "I know baby, i'm also tired taking care of you", he teases, gaining a punch on his thighs.

"But I'm glad you already feel a lot better, Yoongichi", Seokjin murmured next. Yoongi smiles at the remarks, he knows how tiring it must be for Seokjin to take care of him when he wakes up in the middle of night just to throw up or because of his feverish nightmare. How tiring it must be for Seokjin to cook something for him to eat just for Yoongi to throw up a few minutes later because his stomach couldnt handle anything, " Yes, i'm glad too, hyung. I must've troubled you a lot these past days, thank you"

"That's my job, Yoongichi. If it's not me, then who else wants to take care of grumpy you?"

"Hyung!", Seokjin giggles at his boyfriend whining. Then it's silence between them. Seokjin busy watching the drama again as his fingers playing with Yoongi's hair, and Yoongi ... he just enjoyed the touch mindlessly.

"Hyung", Yoongi breaks the silence, " Hm?"

"Why you never get sick? Does vampire ever get sick at all?"

"Huh? What's with the sudden questions?"

"Just curious," Yoongi murmured as he fiddles with Seokjin's sweater, "You never get sick in front of me ! and we have known each other for 5 years .. or more !", he adds, " I want to take care of you too hyung"

Yoongi turns his body and tilts his head so he could meet Seokjin's eyes, "So tell me, does vampire ever get sick at all?"

Seokjin scoff at his boyfriend's questions and his eagerness, "Of course? our body is still human's after all?", Yoongi sits up, " Really? then why i never see you sick at all? not even a cold?"

Yoongi yelps when he feels a slap on his forehead, "What's that for?!"

"You want me to get sick?!", Seokjin rolled his eyes when his boyfriend nods eagerly, " You'll freak out if i get sick, and what kind of boyfriend you are wishing me to get sick?!"

Yoongi giggles as he placed a soft kiss on Seokjin's cheeks, "Arent you curious with my caretaker skills, hyung?"

—

Seokjin curses the Greatest power above. He and Yoongi know that their conversation back then about a vampire being sick is just a joke and harmless conversation. There's nothing serious in that ! But ! How could They grant it?

Seokjin gulped thickly when he could feel his stomach swirling. It feels like he just gets down from a rollercoaster and spinning tea back to back. He cradles his stomach as his other hands mindlessly wander to the other side of the bed, Oh, Yoongi isn't there. He turns his body to sit up slowly to not jostled his stomach too much. He takes a sip of water, hoping that it would help a little and grab his phone— 9 AM. He blinked few times to ease the dizziness that latched on his head before he typed something.

Jungkookie : Kook? You there?

Jungkookie is typing ...

Seokjin was amazed at his little brother's ability to reply so fast.

Jungkookie : Hm? what's up hyung?

Seokjin : Can i crash at your place? I think I'm sick

Jungkookie : Uh, i'm sorry hyung but im in Busan with Jimin and Taehyung until 2 days later :(

Seokjin : ah, okay then ! enjoy your vacation :*

Seokjin locks his phone and lays back down on the bed, maybe sleep will help him feel a little bit better. He was about to close his eyes when the door opened with his boyfriend figure. Yoongi sits beside him, "I'm going to go to the studio for maybe .. 2 hours? Namjoon needs my help. Is that okay?"

Seokjin feels a wave of relief washed through him, "Of course baby, i'm doing nothing anyway. Just take your time there", Seokjin answers. Yoongi smiles as he observed his boyfriend, " You look pale", he gasps, "Are you sick, Jinnie?"

Seokjin could feel his heart skip a beat if he didn't catch Yoongi's grin seconds later. He huffs, "I'm a vampire, Yoongichi. I'm naturally pale?!". Yoongi airy laugh echoing through the room, " I know. I'm messing with you". He leaned down to placed a quick kiss that Seokjin greeted happily, "I'll go now. Don't miss me too much"

"Mhm, i won't. Take care", Seokjin mumbled before he watches his boyfriend walk through the door. After he heard the front door clicked, Seokjin huff in relief and drown himself deeper into his bed, maybe few more hours of sleep will help.

—

Seokjin flutter awakes at the warm hands playing with his hair, he hissed in pain when he could feel his stomach twisting as he regains consciousness. He presses his palms into his stomach, "Hey, Jinie .. what's wrong?"

"Huh? You're back? What time is it?", Seokjin groggily muttered, " Past 1 PM. i told you i only go out for few hours", Yoongi says softly. His hair brushing the older damp hair. His boyfriend's skin is colder than he usually is, "I bet you haven't get up from bed at all? Are you sick?", he softly adds. He tilts his head to get a better few of his boyfriend that still has his face buried down on the pillow. His eyes widened as Seokjin's hands searching for his sweater and grasp it tightly, "Mhm", Seokjin hums as if speaking more words pained him more.

"Is there anything that i could help, hyung?", Yoongi asks. Hating that his boyfriend looks so weak. Seokjin shakes his head slowly, " Just .. stay"

So Yoongi does. His hand never stops making contact with the older body, either it's playing with his hair or rubbing his back. Yoongi's heart skips a beat when he sees Seokjin suddenly sit up with his hand clamped over his mouth. And his heart completely stops when he sees red liquid seeping through the older trembling fingers right after he heard a wet gag escaped from Seokjin's.

"Hyung what the—", Yoongi curses under his breath, " You're bleeding!!"

Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut as his body rocking with one more heave, he clamped his hand tightly to prevent more liquid that his stomach brings seeping more from his hold. He frantically throws the cover and stands on his swaying feet, " 'M not bleeding, I'm sick", he managed to mumble before he bolts to the bathroom. He hastily opens the lid just in time as thick red liquid splashing to the water below. He tightens his grip on the toilet when another round rushing from his mouth. Seokjin grimaces when his tongue completely tastes like metal. He drinks ragged breaths before it hitched along with his stomach spams, gurgling more blood from his body.

Yoongi walked into the bathroom, still recovering from the shock earlier, to see his boyfriend hunched over the toilet with what seems like blood trickling from his plump lips. Yoongi peeked at the toilet and he swears his stomach churning, looking at it filled with blood. He gulped down the lump in his throat before bring his hands to rub the older arched back. He could feel how tense his muscles now.

"That's it hyung.. let it out", Yoongi whispered. Seokjin tilts his head a bit to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend before gag wracking his body, sending another round of vomit. He keeps going as if his body so eager to make it empty.

Seokjin's kneels buckled when he sends his last retch. Blood has stopped flowing from his mouth and leaving him gagging quietly since his stomach still unbelievably queasy. Yoongi flushed the toilet and step down to kneel right beside the older that rests his head on the toilet seat. He brings Seokjin's lulled head on his chest as his hand brushing the sweaty hair from the older forehead, "How are you feeling?"

"Queasy... I hate this, Yoongichi", Seokjin mumbled weakly. He shifts his position to sit straight and spits to the toilet, "Can you bring me water baby? My mouth still tastes like chopper"

Not even a minute later, a glass of water already in front of his face. He accepts it gladly and rinses some of it to get rid of the aftertaste before it triggers more nausea.

"Let's go back to bed hyung? It's too cold here", Yoongi says softly. Seokjin contemplates, "But... I'm still nauseous. I don't think I will have any energy left to run here again"

"I will put bag or trashcan beside our bed, okay?", Yoongi's hands cupped the older face, grazing the tears-stained cheeks, "You're a bit warm hyung, It will turn into a fever if you stay here"

Seokjin hums and brings his shaky legs to stand and back to the comfort of his bed.

"So ...", Yoongi breaks the silence between them as they back to their position a few days back, but now it's Seokjin that cuddling on Yoongi's lap. "Hm, what is it?", Seokjin sleepily answers. exhaustion has crashed to him, and Yoongi's fingers playing with his hair just adding to the sleepiness that starts creeping on him.

"You get sick.. vampire gets sick..", Yoongi mumbled. Seokjin rolled his eyes before pinch the younger thigh, "Aw! What's that for?!"

"You're dumb"

"I'm just making sure!"

Seokjin tries so hard to bite his laugh that was about to erupt. His boyfriend is too adorable to his liking. "Yes, you have just seen me puking his guts out. What kind of evidence again that you need?"

"That was blood? You're puking out blood?"

Seokji shifts his position so he could see Yoongi. He brings his shaky hands to squeeze Yoongi's cheeks that look so adorable from down there. The younger grunts as he batted Seokjin's hands. Seokjin giggles, "Yes? Now listen to me, Yoongichi"

Yoongi looks enthusiasts at him. Seokjin almost coos at the sight. "What materials that human eats?"

"Food?"

"So, if you, as human throwing up like you did a few days ago. What are you throw up?"

"Food?", Yoongi innocently answer before his mouth form an "O"

Seokjin nuzzled his head back to Yoongi's, "Understand now?"

Yoongi hums. Seokjin speaks again, "Its not that I never get sick .. but I always camp in Jungkook's apartment if I feel like I'm gonna sick until I recover"

Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows. His hand unconsciously stops to play with Seokjin's hair, gaining a whine from the older, "Why?"

"Because I know you'll freak out. And of course, I don't want to spread gems here"

"But I'm not!"

Seokjin laughs weakly, "You were screaming earlier. Even though I was in haze but I still can hear it, Yoongichi"

Yoongi pouts, "Okay maybe a bit. I thought you were bleeding"

Then they fall into a comfortable silence again. Seokjin is too busy to calm down his stomach that starts swirling again and Yoongi just deep in his thought.

"Hyung?", Yoongi calls when he could feel Seokjin squirmed on his lap. It looks like the older is in pain as he bites his lower lips, "What's wrong?"

Seokjin sucked a few breaths, "I'm so nauseous"

"Do you think you gonna be sick again?"

A wet blech answered Yoongi's question. The younger quick to jump from their bed and fetch the trashcan that he prepared earlier. Seokjin dived his head on the trashcan, followed by loud retch echoes through it. It brings nothing, only makes him more nauseous. He groans as he brushes his hair in frustration.

"You're empty hyung", Yoongi murmured beside him. "I know. But I can help it. It just feels like I'm so close to puke", Seokjin whined. He clutched the can on his chest and sagged back to the bed. This is why he hates to be sick.

"Do you want some warm tea hyung? I don't know what you usually drink when you recover but at least you have something to bring up"

Seokjin almost gags again at the mention of a drink. But that was a good idea, "That would be nice, Yoongichi"

Yoongi flashes his gummy smile, "Okay, let me make it. Wait here"

Seokjin grips the younger wrist before he got chance to walk from their room, "What?", Yoongi tilts his head, "Thank you. I acknowledge you as a good vampire caretaker", Seokjin says weakly with a grin on his lips before he plants a soft kiss on Yoongi's cheeks. Yoongi groans, but the red cheeks say otherwise, "You're silly. but your welcome my vampire", he jumps from their bed, "Now let me make you a tea, i will be back"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #tw blood #sick!seokjin #caretaker!yoongi

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maddpopcorn · 4 years

Text

It’s Okay || pjm

Pairing: Maine Coon!Hybrid!Jimin x Male!Reader

Request: hiii can i request a jimin x male reader fic? maybe an angst/comfort hybrid au where jimin is a homeless hybrid who escaped from his abuser owner and is now trying to survive in the streets. the reader would find him and try to help him, but since jimin is scared and doesn’t trust humans, it’s a bit harder than he expected.. (i’d prefer a series but you can make it a one-shot or drabble or whatev boils your noodles lol) thank you in advance and have a nice day!

Summary: When walking down your normal road, you spy a long, fluffy tail. And when it connects to a bruised and bloodied up hybrid who immediately hisses at you, you find yourself trying everything in your power to bring him home….even if you have to suffer a couple of scratches along the way.

Warnings: Angst, lots of angst, burning of the skin with cigarettes, mentions of starving from neglect/punishment, punching, slight mentions blood and cleaning the wound, night terrors

A/N: Wow, you were my first request! I am so sorry it took long. However, I enjoyed writing this piece a lot so I hope you enjoy it, too! If people like this so much, perhaps I could make a second part (I already have one hybrid series I’m planning on making so it might be too much to make this into a series :)) Also, forgive me if there are any mistakes!

Jimin hates being a hybrid. No, scratch that. He despises it. He despises himself. Because of his nature, he’s immediately treated with little to no respect by most humans in society. He’s treated like he’s some type of scum on the bottom of their shoes.

Which isn’t true at all but who will ever listen to him, right? He is just a mangy good for nothing hybrid, after all.

He despises humans. After all of this time observing them, after experiencing them first hand, he has deemed them greedy, selfish and just evil.

They are all evil.

Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes, and he hastily wipes them away out of habit in fear of being caught. He blinks and then dryly chuckles, looking down at his burnt scars that dotted his arms. Who is going to burn their cigarettes into his now dry and cracked skin? Who is going to punch their frustrations out on him again?

No one, right?

He escaped them.

Sighing in relief and with a smile, you wave bye to the last customer that walks out of the coffee shop. Immediately, your smile drops.

“Holy hell, today was busier than a fucking highway,” you groan, shoulders drooping dramatically. You let the broom slide in your hand until only the tips of your fingers are barely holding it up.

“Yeah, why do these people need all of this coffee on a Friday afternoon anyway?” Yoongi complains, dropping his head on the counter, his recently dyed mint hair covering his eyes. “It’s like they’re addicted or something. Damn.”

“Takes one to know one, Yoongles,” you tease, holding the broom properly again and resuming sweeping.

Huffing at your joke, he stretches, popping several bones in the process (that you may or may not be worried about).“Yeah but unlike them, I know my limits.”

“Hah, funniest joke of the year. Yeah, right, dude.”

He reels back like he has touched fire and gasps. “Wha-excuse me, mister but I know my limits.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“Ye-”

“Yoongi-” you stop sweeping, putting your hand on your hip. “-you drank 5 cups of coffee in one sitting during exam week. And then, the next week, you kept chugging energy drinks like they were nothing so you could finish your ‘precious song’.” One by one, you start listing off all the times he has drank too much coffee and energy drinks. His body deflates with each jab at his pride until he’s crumbling in on himself.

It’s a hot minute before any of you say anything, quietly cleaning up the shop so that you could finally go home.

“Fuck off, pretty boy,” he finally says, middle finger in the air and face heating up.

You bark out a laugh. “So you finally admit that I’m pretty, huh? Jin owes me $5.”

“You fucking-”

“Don’t forget, 8 o’clock tonight, my apartment. Don’t be late like last time, brat,” Yoongi scolds, adjusting his glasses. You throw your hands up, a cheeky smirk on your face.

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You wave bye to your coworker as you exit the coffee shop. Humming to yourself, you begin your journey on your normal path to home. Mentally checking off your to-do list before you have to get ready for the annual hangout you and your friends have every week, you spot in the corner of your eye a fluffy, blonde blob. You turn your head, fully stopping and squinting.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, creeping up on the blob. It grows until it stops at a…

“Holy shit!” You yell, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth in disbelief.

A hybrid. A cat hybrid, to be specific, is laying on the dirty and wet ground of the alley way. His eyes are closed, and you timidly squat down near him to examine him. Matted blonde hair sticks to his face with what you can only assume is sweat and dirt which is also smudging across his face. His lips are forming a pout and he moves a bit, making you jump back in surprise. When he stays still after, you continue your examination. His skin looks dry and his cheeks are sunken in. Trailing your eyes down his form, you notice how worn and ragged his clothes truly are. And how big they look on him. Your eyebrows furrow at his state. Someone did a beating on this poor guy.

He whimpers in his sleep and without thinking, you do something stupid. Something incredibly stupid.

You reach your hand out towards him, to pet him or give him comfort, not really controlling your urges to get close. And that’s when you instantly regret it. His eyes snap open, and you yelp in pain as his claws swipe into your skin. Recoiling back, you immediately grasp your now bleeding arm, eyes glued to it. Three deep scratches litter your arm and blood starts to come to the surface.

Even if you’re the one that got scratched, you apologize.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, letting out a shuddering breath. “I should’ve given you your space. I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone!” He hisses, shuffling far away from you. Growling, his entire body shakes as flashes upon flashes come back to him. Pupils reducing to slits and ears flattening against his head, he swipes at you again,

You mentally slap yourself in the face. Of course he would scratch you. You invaded his personal space and reminded him of his abusers. You scared him. You back up, giving the hybrid one last glance, guilt racking every bone in your body for scaring the hybrid before you walk away.

He doesn’t meet your eyes.

You rush home, your makeshift bandage from the napkins in your pocket soaked in blood. He got you deep. But it wasn’t his fault. It was yours.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you repeat to yourself. “How could you be so fucking stupid?”

Someone holds the door open for you as you slide past them, muttering a quick thanks.

“Hi, Mrs. Hags. Bye, Mrs. Hags,” you yell out to the landlady, rushing past people into the elevator of your complex.

“Bye, dearie,” she calls out. “Odd fellow, he is. Isn’t that right, Mr. Whiskers?”

Her cat only yawns in response and she immediately coos, getting right back to her knitting.

Stomping your foot impatiently, you give an awkward smile to the other tenants present in the elevator. They smile back, weird looks on their faces as they realize you’re holding your bleeding arm and you silently wish that the elevator would hurry the hell up. Sighing in relief as the elevators dings, you squeeze through the opening doors.

“Odd fellow,” One whispers out.

“Yeah, very odd,” Another whispers back.

Fumbling with your keys to your door, you curse in frustration as you drop them. Picking them up, you unlock your door after what seemed like forever. Finally, practically throwing open your door, you race to your bathroom, not caring as your door slams behind you. Dropping everything, you quickly get the first aid kit out.

“Fuck,” you hiss in pain as the alcohol seeps into your wound. Tears fall from your eyes from the burning sensation. “Ah, I’m melting, I’m melting…fuck, I’m dumb.”

After 10 minutes of grueling pain, you look at your newly bandaged arm. That was so stupid of you. How could you just invade his space like that? As you focus on your arm, dumb thoughts running through your head, your phone rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. Fishing it out of your pocket, you groan again when you realize it’s Yoongi. You still had time to get there, two hours really, so why was he calling you?

“Hello?”

“Y/N, wanted to let you know that Joon got the stomach bug so the hangout is cancelled. Hobi and I are taking care of him.”

You can hear groans of pain in the background and Hoseok teasing. “Quit being a baby, Joonie. It’s a mere stomach bug.”

“Feels like I’m dying, Hobi,” he groans dramatically.

“Sounds like you have a handful, Yoongles,” you chuckle, putting up the alcohol and first aid kit.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Okay, thanks for telling me. I hope Joon gets better. I have some stuff to do so I have to go.”

“Yeah, right. Bye, Y/N-Namjoon, did you just hit me with a pillow?”

You can hear Namjoon yelling “Cuddles, now!” before Yoongi hangs up, eliciting a belly laugh out of you. How Yoongi and Hoseok put up with their boyfriend, you have no clue but more power to them. Staring back at your arm, you nod as you come up with a plan to win the hybrid over. Or at least apologize to him. You roll up your other sleeve, making your way over to your kitchen. You’ve got work to do.

It’s a couple of hours later when Jimin finally retreats from his hidey hole to see a brown paper bag with a note attached to it. An amazing smell wafts through the air that makes his stomach growl in hunger. He slowly crawls forward, tail swishing in curiosity, and snatches the note from the bag.

I’m sorry about today. Please enjoy your dinner.

P.S, I hear Maine Coons like this fish, assuming you are one. Enjoy :)

-Y/N (The guy who is really sorry about invading your personal space)

He hisses in disgust, shifting backward from the paper bag. The note flies from his grasp and lands in a puddle, immediately getting soaked from the dirty water. What if you poisoned it? Or laced it with something? Are you working for…her? Are you going to take him back? It’s not like he’s never had the wonderful pleasure of starving before. She would make sure of that. He can deal with it. He has done it plenty of times, one more can’t hurt…right?

He sits there, just glaring holes at the bag as rain drops hit him, trying so hard to ignore everything. The smell, the wonderful smell. He clenches his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’ll break them as another sharp pain shoots through his stomach, accompanied by a familiar grumbling. He tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on something else. Perhaps the way his bones are shivering from the rain will do? No, that makes it worse. Makes him want whatever is in the bag even more. It seems warm. Warm enough to make him warm. He wants it. He needs it. So much.

Ignore it.

Ignore. It.

But, a guy can only take so much.

The smell surrounding him in mockery and the nagging pain finally makes Jimin grab the bag, fishing out the food and digging in, without sparing it a second glance. He’ll worry about the consequences later.

He almost moans from the taste he thought he had forgotten long ago. The fish is still warm, kept in a container that keeps the temperature insulated and whatever soup you got (or made, he can care less) goes perfectly with it.

In a matter of minutes, the fish is finished, and Jimin is gulping down the remaining soup. He pulls back, licking his lips and sighs in satisfaction. His stomach is warm from the soup. He’s not shivering that much from the rain anymore. He actually feels…cozy and it’s incredibly weird to him. Something foreign almost. He places the bowl back into the bag and crawls back into his hiding place. Curling up, yawning, he thinks of you and quietly mumbles a thank you before falling fast asleep.

It is a couple of days later when you return, bandage wrapped around your arm. Jimin growls in annoyance and begrudgingly relief. You seem..okay from his scratch.

Stupid human can’t follow a stupid task.

“I come bearing a peace offering,” you smile, holding out two bags.

Jimin’s eyes study the bags and then trail up your hand and to your arm. Annoyingly, in his opinion, guilt racks up. You notice his eyes glued to your arm and you wave your hand.

“Don’t worry about. My friend Jin said it would be fine.”

You lock eyes for a mere second before he’s immediately spitting back, “Like I care.”

He averts his eyes, letting out a loud huff. You sit down, slowly sliding one bag towards him. He views the action from the corner of his eyes. What are you doing? He turns his head just a bit to get a better view and his eyes widen.

“What are you doing?” he practically screeches as you pull out your lunch for the day.

“Taking my lunch break. What else?” you tease, waving the take out container in your hand. “Would you care to join me?”

“No.”

You shrug your shoulders and open your container. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

You begin eating and Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and looking away. Again, he repeats the same mantra from last time.

Ignore it.

His stomach rumbles and if you heard it, you make no move to comment and instead, continue to happily eat.

“Wow, this chicken is to die for. Compliments to the chef,” you groan, giving a chef’s kiss. “Sure you don’t want any?”

He knows what your game is. You’re just trying to rile him up to eat the food so that you can do whatever you want with him. No, not this time. It won’t work. After you leave, he’ll throw the food away. He is sure of it.

“I am positive I don’t want your shitty food,” he snaps.

You wince, putting a hand to your chest. “Ouch buddy, that hurt.”

“Not your fucking buddy either,” he growls in annoyance.

“Just slash at my feelings, why don’t yah?”

“Gladly.”

That is his last and final word. You finish your lunch, taking one glance at the hybrid and leave. Jimin sits there and makes a move to throw out the food. He hesitantly reaches out but backs away. His eyebrows furrow at his dilemma. On one hand, should he waste food like that? That would be wrong of him. On another, did you poison the food this time? Can he really trust that you didn’t?

He lasts a total of five minutes before he’s digging into the food. Maybe, just maybe, you’re a decent human. Just maybe.

It takes you weeks to earn the still nameless hybrid’s trust. Even then, it was only a small amount. At least you could sit closer together and talk about random things. That’s why it surprises you when he meekly asks if he can go with you this time.

You widen your eyes at his request. “What?”

“When you leave, can I go with you? Y/N, please?” His ears are flattened against his head and his tail is curled around his waist.

“I don’t even know your name-”

“Jimin. It’s um, Jimin.” He blurts out. He clears his throat, face flushed, eyes looking at every thing but you.

“Jimin…” you whisper, the name so foreign on your tongue. “Pretty name. What made you want to come with me?”

“I…” he didn’t expect that question. “I don’t know. You just seem…comforting, I guess? I don’t know, it was stupid. I’m sorry-”

You cut him off. “Shh, it’s not stupid. I’m glad that I seem comforting to you. My answer is yes, you can come home with me.”

His eyes widen and it’s the first time you have ever seen him smile that wide before. You hope you’ll see that smile even more in the future.

“And this is your room!” You gesture with your arm. “I had to quickly clean it since I honestly didn’t think you would come with me so forgive me if it’s still a bit dusty.” You walk in but he doesn’t follow. You turn around towards him, cocking your head. “Jimin?”

Jimin can’t say anything. This is all for him? But, he didn’t do anything to deserve it. He didn’t please you. He didn’t let you use him as a personal punching bag for your frustrations. This is a trick. It has to be. No one is this kind to a stranger, especially a hybrid. A hybrid who hurt you. For fuck’s sake, he scratched you. Yeah, he wanted to come home with you and yeah, he did say you were comforting but he expected that you would make him share the same room or something. He didn’t know what to expect. Just not this.

“Jimin?” Your soothing voice lures him out of his mess he calls his thoughts.

“I-I can’t accept this room, Y/N.”

You must’ve pulled a face or something because Jimin is immediately tense, ready to dash right back out on to the streets.

“Why?” is the only thing you ask.

“What?”

“Why can’t you accept the room?”

He wraps his arms around himself, his tail joining them. “Never had this before. This much kindness thrown at me. Expected to..pay you in return.”

“It’s yours now, Jimin. No payment needed.”

“Why are you so kind to me?”

His question throws you off-guard and it takes you a minute to answer. You brush the lint off of his comforter. “Because you deserve it. I can only assume you’ve been through hell and back. Why not live the rest of your life peacefully?”

“Thank you.”

With that, you smile and leave him be in his new room. A couple of hours later, he joins you for dinner. Whatever you made smells heavenly. Quietly sitting down, he watches as you put the pot on the table in between you two. The bowls are already set and you serve him first before serving yourself. He mutters a “thank you”.

“Dig in, Jimin. I hope you’ll like it. New recipe I’m trying out,” you hum, taking a spoon full of the stew and blowing on it. He waits until you take a bite first. You smile in satisfaction as the spicy fish stew came out perfectly. Just the right amount of spice. He should’ve known better, really. You never wanted to hurt him in the first place but old habits die hard and he finds himself gauging your reaction to the food. You didn’t trick him before, you didn’t poison him at all, so why should this meal be different? Maybe it’s because he’s on your turf now. He waits and when he deems the food is safe enough to eat since you aren’t spasming out of control from poison or getting sleepy from a sedative, he digs in.

Wow.

You’re an amazing cook.

It doesn’t take Jimin even 5 minutes to finish his bowl and your heart aches just a little at the mere thought of him being hungry ever again.

“Must’ve been good?” You tease light-heartedly. Jimin nods, licking his lips clean. “Want a second bowl?”

His eyes widen at the aspect and you only take his bowl to fill it up again. Jimin wastes no time finishing the second one. He feels all warm, fuzzy even and he looks down at his stomach in confusion. This is a familiar feeling. A feeling he had on the day you two met. It takes him a good solid minute, weighing the pros and cons of asking you if you had made that soup. Would you think it was weird if he told you he had remembered the fuzzy feeling? Would you think it was weird if he told you that that was the only time he had ever felt close to home? Finally, he concludes that either way, he needs to know because he cannot stand the stupid curiosity that’s nagging him.

“I..I have a question,” Jimin mumbles.

You nod, gulping down the remaining water from your cup. “Shoot.”

He looks around the room as he hesitantly asks, “Did, did you..you know, that soup..”

“Soup? What soup?”

“You know, that soup.”

“I’m not following, Jiminie?”

His face heats up at your nickname for him but you don’t seem to realize that you even said it in the first place. He finally blurts out, “The one that you gave me the first time we met! Did you cook it?”

“Oh.”

“I just,” he continues. “It was the only time I ever felt..I don’t know. Nevermind- it’s stupid.”

“Yes.”

“What?” Did you actually think it was-

“Yes, I made it. I wanted you to have a homemade meal. And I was apologizing to you so I thought it would be a bit more..special I guess.”

“Thank you..”

You both clean the dishes, wash up and head to bed. Jimin is finally alone to just process everything. This could be a home for him. He lays down, relishing in the softness of the bed. He wraps himself with the comforter. It smells so nice and it feels so warm and so..homey. Yawning, he doesn’t notice the smile creeping up on his face as he closes his eyes, sleep taking over.

A couple of weeks have passed and having Jimin around is such a delight. Not having to come home to an empty apartment feels so much better. He helps you clean, he accompanies you when you’re watching something on the tv. He lets you ramble about your day at the coffee shop. It takes Jimin a while to grow used to being here. And not everything is so pleasant. Countless of times, Jimin has woken up from night terrors, from flashbacks of that place. And this time isn’t any different.

It’s around 4 in the morning when Jimin wakes up, his eyes flying open from the nightmare. Gasping for air, he looks around. Everything seems so hazy, so dark. All he can remember is him screaming for you.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. You’re not going to give him away, right? Right?

You weren’t anywhere in sight and he could feel himself panicking. He rapidly jumps up, trying to find the light switch or the curtains or something to give light. To give him hope that you hadn’t sneakily sold him back to her. He trips over something and reaches out his hand, grasping a cloth and pulling it down with him. Moon light floods the room and he curls up, sobbing and shaking. His heart is racing and he silently begs for you to appear.

You jolt awake at the loud “thunk” coming from somewhere in your apartment. You jump up, grabbing your baseball bat and tip toe out of your room. Hearing whimpers from Jimin’s room, you drop the bat and rush in.

“Jimin, oh my god, are you okay?” you ask alarmed, freeing him. He’s shaking all over, eyes closed and arms wrapped around himself.

“Please tell me I’m not there again. I don’t wanna go back. Please, please please..” He repeatedly mumbles. “I’m a good boy. I’ll be a better boy, I promise. Please, just don’t take me there.”

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, rocking him back and forth. “I promise on everything holy that I will never leave you. I will never let you go back there, Jimin.”

He sobs into your shoulder, gripping tightly at your t-shirt. His tail wraps around you, and you stroke his head.

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re here, you’re home. It’s okay, you’re safe. I promise,” you whisper. After a long time, Jimin grounds himself and he pulls back to see you, worry filling your eyes and tears at the brim of them.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, diving right back into your arms. You only rub his back in soothing motions.

That was the first night ever that he had asked you to stay in his room.

The next morning while you’re making a delicious breakfast for the both of you, he stalks into the kitchen. You hum a little at his presence, asking him if he is okay. He hums in agreement and stares at you. You, already used to him just staring at you, studying your movements, continue cooking. He walks up behind you, ears pinned back, arms opening up.

He back hugs you.

You’re startled for a moment and it makes him hesitate to tighten his grip but when you don’t move away, just slightly humming as you continue to cook, he smiles, ever so slightly, tautening his hold.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he murmurs into your back, so quietly that you have a hard time hearing him. But you hear him. He buries his head into your back, inhaling your comforting scent. “Thank you.”

That’s when you realize that the future for the both of you would be much brighter from here on.

#bts #bts jimin #bts jimin x reader #bts jimin x male reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid x reader #bts x reader #bts namjoon #bts hoseok #bts hybrid x male reader #bts x male reader

195 notes · View notes

sloppy-butcher · 3 years

Note

Can I request some fucking happiness like GODDAMN IM SO SAD

coming right up my friend. happiness in the form of cuddling with randomly selected killers and survivors to be listed below (sorry if it's short, I tried something different for this request) don’t be sad anyMORE <3

Seeking Comfort

The Doctor (Herman Carter)

He notices immediately when you slosh into his office after a long day of battling difficulties, shoulders hunched over, and demeanor sour, bringing with you a most depressing mood. He passes a cool eye over your shrinking form as you slowly make your way to the small bench that served as your designated station. Suddenly he calls you over, producing a sound somewhere between a cough and laugh, causing you to look up at him in confusion. Herman pushes back his laze boy from his work table, presenting his empty lap to you. Your questioning gaze flickers between the man and his offer and after only a few more encouraging nods, you crawl your way over to him. Never had he initiated affection like this, almost demanding you to be in his arms. He consumes you completely in his body, swallowing you up in his off-white lab coat and bare arms. The electrodes that protrude out his forearms would spark occasionally and tickle you until your face lightens and a smile somewhat returns. You knew it was secretly Herman himself sending you the fuzzy reminds of energy In between reading documents and writing down his new observations, Herman often places his head on top of yours, humming and kissing your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

The Hag (Lisa Sherwood)

Lisa tries her absolute damnedest to make you leave her realm with a smile on your face. Though she can't talk and her hugs are not the warmest and her lips aren’t the best for giving kisses, she displays her affection in other manners. She beckons you over to her crouched in the swamp. She takes your hand in hers and with the faintest and gentlest movements, barely even gracing your skin, uses her elongated claw to draw small symbols on your arm with the help of fresh, black mud. You tilt your head and ask her what they mean. She gives you her best smile, a stretched-out display of all her twisted and razor-sharp teeth, and places her unaltered hand over your heart. You can see her sway her head with the ticking of your heartbeat and you realize that it was a spell of protection and repair - or rather a spell for a sad heart. Lisa makes you spend the rest of your time together searching the swamp for fireflies, a rarity in her realm but a blessing none the less. She follows you around carrying with her a dirty glass jar and whenever you managed to catch a handful of the elusive bugs, she’d make you put them inside until the glass glowed a brilliant yellow hue. At the end of the evening, when the darkness that previously sat on your chest has alleviated slightly, Lisa offers you one last gift. She asks you to lean down to her comfortable height and then places her forehead to yours. You hear her breathing steady and become as sure as the sun will rise and the night will end and you know that everything will be alright when she is around.

The Deathslinger (Caleb Quinn)

“Drink up.” Caleb slides you a hefty glass practically overflowing with burning, brown liquid. “That’ll put all yer troubles in the ground for sure.” Wearily, you try to lift the glass to your lips and embrace the blissful effects of the strong alcohol but instead, your hand starts to shake and you get hit with another wave of perpetual exhaustion. The glass clatters to the bar table with a thud and the liquid splashes everywhere. You apologize profusely to the man as tears threaten to envelop your vision. Caleb sighs and moves around the table to your side. You feel his hand place itself gently on your back - a small gesture of comfort and one you clung onto for dear life. “Ay see it’s gonna take an even stronger type of liquor to fix that troubled heart of yours.” You hear him shuffle but could not bear to lift your eyes from the cover of your hands. Something tickles your right ear and suddenly you sense him begin to pepper kisses along your cheekbone. When Caleb notices that he has your attention, his kisses deepen and he starts making obnoxious smooching noises. You couldn’t help but smile and try to pull away from the mocking man, succumbing to his game and forgetting all your worries in the shine of his love. He continues his rampage of wrecking your face with wet, sloppy kisses until you were begging for him to stop. You were laughing, the tears from before having dried up. Caleb smiles, his damaged cheek hurting from the strain. But when he sees how you look at him with happiness returned in your face, he deems it all worth it.

Meg Thomas

Meg sighs and you feel her chest compress and her head lean down to your ear level, her arms sneaking to your sides where she found warmth and structure. Since the first second she saw that slight downwards twinge of your mouth, Meg had not left your side. Right now she had positioned herself to be sitting on the log directly behind you while together you sat facing the campfire. She had her legs on either side of you, effectively making a sort of make-shift barrier between you, her, and the rest of the shitty world. You relax into her, allowing your head to fall back and land safely on her left chest. She retrieves one hand and delicately brushes hair out of your eyes. She was so kind and understanding, caring like a mother and passionate like an athlete. She was persistent even as the wall crumbled inwards and started to bury you in an impossible rumble, she was quickly there to offer you her hand. “It’s difficult.” Meg mumbles so quietly it was more directed towards herself than to anyone else. “It’s like an uphill battle and sometimes it feels like your legs are going to break and you’re not going to make it up.” You feel her hands start to shiver and you go to grasp them in your own. She stops and squeezes you, holding on like a falling child would a tree branch. “But we must keep trying.” You open your eyes again to see her lovingly looking down at you - she was so angelic bathed in the golden firelight. She lowers her face and gives your nose a quick peck. She smells like roses and fresh body wash. Meg smiles and you were infected with her hopefulness, blooming in your chest in the forms of happiness and love.

Ashley J. Williams

“What's up, doll-face?” Ash asks as he slides into the seat next to yours. You hurriedly suck back a cry and turn your head away from him, trying and failing to hide your miserable expression. He waits a moment, eyes dancing up and down your shivering body before he exhales audibly. “Rough day, huh?” His comment was rhetorical - it was obvious that you were upset. He runs a hand through his graying hair. He pauses and thinks for a second, a task that he never normally is one to partake in. He goes to speak but stops - no that sounds stupid. Well, what about - no that's insensitive. Again and again, his brain produced and sabotaged all possibilities he had to try and make you feel better. He just wanted to make you stop crying. Ash is very unpracticed in the field of comfort. Yet seeing you so broken, so unlike how wonderful and lively you usually were, pained him more than the awkwardness did. He contemplates another option hen suddenly he feels a small tug at his shirt. Looking over he sees you pleading for him to take you in. His heart jitters slightly but does not stop him from shuffling closer to you and offering you his arm. You grateful wrap yourself around him and soon stuff your nose into his side. Ash’s metal hand rubs smalls circles on your back and you wonder why he was not always this hug-able. “Don’t get too comfortable, kid. This is a once-off thing.” Though your heart ached from problems unimaginable, his simple abruptness tinged with undertones of sympathy, was enough of a rude-awakening to remind you that you were alive and that you always had him.

#sorry if these are bad #i tried lmao #dbd imagine #dbd x reader #dbd the doctor x reader #dbd herman carter x reader #dbd the hag x reader #dbd lisa sherwood x reader #dbd the deathslinger x reader #dbd caleb quinn x reader #dbd meg thomas x reader #dbd ash j williams x reader

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shortyisweird9 · 3 years

Text

'Lonely ghost serie'

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby"-part V

Tw⚠️: swearing, angsty vibes ( I think)

Your body moved in distress, turning the sheets all over as you left out a gasp of terror, your face clenching in pain. You have a nightmare, a usual occurrence that happens when you are stressed. Having such a big imagination, your dreams/ nightmares came vividly, with excruciating details. You could see them in colour however the images were blurry, hazy almost.

This nightmare was about Fatima, the sketch artist from up top. She was a senior here and usually the person in this block turned for guidance, relief and peace. She was from the South part of Sudan, fact that she lets it known by her traditional style fashion, her food and her drinks and the occasionally loud conversations she has with her folks back home. A peaceful artist with beautiful brown skin with yellow undertones, an oval face with a big smile plastered on it and shinning black orbs. An angel in disguise that you often seek when the world proved too much for you. Fatima never really showed her own worries and fears but you were one of the privileged few who did see her at her lowest, an experience that motivated you , scared you and hurt you. The amount of times your heart clenched those times matched with how many tears left her orbs.

You were ejected vertically on your bottom as your mouth left a silent scream, tears dropping from your eyes but you didn't have time to think it over since loud noises came from upstairs,Fatima's room. In your paranoid state you didn't question the musicality of the sounds ,chosing to ran out the door ,slapping it shut and jumping two steps each time till you reached her door.

Fatima was enjoying her second favourite types of music, Afro-Latina songs when a storms of pounds hit her door. Confused and terrified, she grabbed the nearby mop before she opened the door. It was just you.

You stood there in black shorts made from former leggings to long for your short legs, white ripped shirt stained with old paint from when you helped her renovate and messy long hair and tear filled puffy eyes.

"Y/n! My girl ,what happened?"

There she was, with a long white fit dress that ended in a curve at the start of her feet and silver grey hijab wrapped around her head. She look energised despite being 5 in the mornina Most importantly she was Most importantly, she was safe, unharmed and happy.

Your noise picked up the aroma of her handmade mix of tea that filled the textile of her dressing where now your head rest as your body convulse in a breakdown again. Shocked and confused, she wasn't stopped however from showing you the comfort your soul may need.

She caressed your long hair and rubbed your back as you two sat on the white tiles of the entrance. The door long close by her other roommate, Catherine Blank - a 26 years old from Dublin.

On Fatima's commends, the red haired freckled woman brought you a knitted blanket and a cup of water. Her hands found their way on your cheeks when you finally calmed down,rubbing them on your wet skin as you drank the water. Your eyes fell down in shame for disturbing them.

You didn't know why it happened. Just two hours ago you finished talking with Corpse and went over your notes one last time.

You seemed fine, too busy for any bad thoughts to bug you or anything such as. Yet here you are.

"Jesus ,girl. You scared us." Came the heavy accent voice of Catherine.

You looked at her standing in black leggings and a black top, skinny hands on round hips and a scowl of worry on her square face. Green eyes softening when they met yours.

"I..um..."

"You don't have to tell us right now, sweet girl. Come, let's enjoy each other with some select songs."

You all three burst in laughter at the ridiculous pompous tonality Fatima chose to express herself with.

You followed, grasping the extended hand of Catherine as Fatima rearrange the blanket around your tattoos covered body.

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It was morning when you finally return back into your apartment. The door closed itself with a heavy thud that resonated within the insides of your shaky lungs. You calmed down significantly since that explosive outburst of fears and terrors.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin. You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin.

You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

Your soul long desired the touch of another: to be grasp tightly and lovely by their hands, to be enveloped in their smell as they whisper sweet nothings into your ears, to have their warmth dry your tears, to bring comfort to your pain. You resigned years ago that you were never meant to experience this sessions, merely observed them. But your heart craved them and craving it did, as you watched in fake disgust the romantic displays in Ace's romances.

Right now, after crying your eyes out, your burns needed that comfort, needed that care and love but again you were denied of them, you can only thank yourself for that.

The cup was slapped in foolish fury as you tossed some hot water in it. The tea bag falling towards the end of the cup.

Three knocks were heard at the door and you curiously turned, cup left forgotten.

Opening the door, Omar was standing there with a little albino boy with clear big blue eyes and curly locks. He was wearing a red blue and white checkered shirt with beige church pants. He smelled nice ,his cologne hitting your your long narrow nose immediately after opening the door.

You raised a brow as he sheepishly smiled.

"Nice kid."

"Thanks."

Then silence.

You continued drinking your tea,staring at the man who finally realised that you didn't know the motive of his visit.

"Alma didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"She said you agreed to watch over Tj today."

Wait.

Your panicked grew was your eyes turned to the calendar to the right of you. There in bold yellow numbers the day of 5th November was left clear with the exception of being circled over with a gold marker.

"Shit ,it was today? I mean ...fuck. Sorry, Omar. It totally slip my mind."

The man laughed ,his brown eyes were warm and forgiving, no offense taken by your skip of mind.

"It's fine,Y/n. So it's alright if I leave this little guy with you for a bit?"

"Y-Yeah. But I don't have-"

As Omar entered the hallway, a grey bag you previously not seen was by the door , you picked it up before going to the living room.

He sat the kid dressed in a sailor white and navy blue stripped t-shirt and light grey sweatpants on one of the sit of your 1970s floral printed sectional sofa.

The kid was making sounds and hand gestures ,wanting to be picked up again by his father who was busy speaking with the 159cm tall woman.

"Tj here is a big of a love bug, get him to like you and you can't go anywhere anymore. Just like his mother I suppose. "

"Does he have any..um..food preference I should know about?"

"Um...Wait, Alma left you a notebook, ah well not you but me. Here ,it should have anything you will need. Again,thank you so much for doing this Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it." You said ,flipped the pages of the hard back notebook. Luckily Alma had a neat writing.

"Well, I need to go now. Be nice, little guy. "

Omar bent down to kiss his son's forehead, a sign of goodbye. The child stared at his father with a confuse look as he bubbled nonsense. His tiny hand reaching for the leaving figure.

Omar left soon after ,waving bye-bye to his son and almost kissing your forehead as a habit he picked up since he got together with Alma, their form of goodbye.

You stood there, staring at each other as the kid started to laugh and throw his toy at you. You caught it, he will throw it again and so forth.

You were tired however and knew the boy with too much energy will not be easily manipulated into sleeping. Opening the TV to the kid's cartoon channel , you settled on the opposite couch ,eyes falling victim to tiredness.

----------------------------------------------

You must have been asleep 2 hours and so begore the loud crys woke you up.

Crys? Shittt! The kid.

Shooting out of your crouched position, you ignore the stirring pain of your sudden movement. Your legs' thud brought the attention of the crying mop of hair.

A wrenches smell filled your nostrils as your dread grew when you realised where its source came from. Looks like it's time to change a diaper. Oh ,man!

With a mask over your nose, hair tied behind your back and gloves you started changing the boy in the bathroom, you cleaned and washed him and brought him back on the layed blanket on the couch. Your disgust grew as you cleaned the sink and disinfect it.

You groaned as you threw your equipment in the bin, a bing didn't let your stomach cringe at the memory of the smell. It was a message from Corpse.

'Hey :)'

You smiled, quickly texting him back.

'Hey!"

'Up to play something today?'

'A new stream? You just finished one tomorrow, I don't want you to burn yourself out.'

'<3 But no, I mean to play together in private, just the two of us.'

You wanted to text him back, teasing him with the proposition of a date but the sounds of broking glass was heard from the living room.

With a scream , you quickly typed out :' Cant baby in troble.!'

The kid was fine thankfully , grinning and laughing at your panicked state. What was not fine was the white porcelain vase with blue florals Sabrina brought for her collection. She wouldn't be mad per say but she wouldn't be happy either.

The kid ,now standing to ran around the room ,using the coffee table to his advantage, your legs screaming from the workout. Luckily the broken vase was behind you away from the child.

Unfortunately, your phone started to ring. Who the fuck would call me now? Oh! It's Corpse. Wait..Corpse!

"H-hey Corpse ! What are you - come here you little block of swiss cheese."

The man laughed as the phone's speaker vibrated on your right ear where you lodged it.

Tj laughed innocently as you grabbed him and hold him to your left hip. Your hair,nerves and mood all a mess.

"A-Are you okay?" Corpse asked after recovering from the fit of laughter.

"Me? Oh ,sure. I have a gremlin here who's more trouble than his worth. Hey! Stop that!"

The happy face of Tj turned in a cringy crying one as he wailed. Apparently you wanting to stop him chewing on your white banda, tightly nicely on the top of your head ,was too much.

"Sounds like trouble. By the way, you called me?"

"I did?"

Your eyebrows clenched as you look at your calls history,you did actually. The icon of the call must have been press on accident or that it was a sign from the universe that you are in dire need of assistance.

"Y-yeah. Look, Corpse l-I gotta go. I will call you-"

And you stopped, your breath becoming more fast as your nose flared.

"Um ghost? Are you...Are you there?"

"Stay on the line,Corpse. This kid just pissed on me."

With that another wave of laughter hit the man as he thrown himself into the chair.

----------------------------------------------

Finally, you changed the damn brat after cleaning him again and taking a shower yourself. You left a breath as you watched the chil playing with his blue rocket toy.

"Babysitting is much harder than the films makes it out to be." You grumbled, pouting as you listened to Corpse's chuckles.

They managed to calm you enough to turn the intimidating glare you had plastered all over your face into a more stern one.

Your body dressed in a clean pair of white jeans short, black tank top and blue checkered shirt over, leaned on the frame of the door. You were waiting for the milk to heat up, luckily the boy was only a month away from being an year old so you could give him cow milk without worrying.

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby." He said ,his voice making you visibly tingle.

You sighed, placing the phone near the wooden bread box and grabbing a cup. By now the milk should have warmed up.

"Um...goofball?"

"Yes,Corpse?"

"You...you are not wearing your voice changer. I..I am sorry, I should have told you from the start but I like the s-sound of it ,I didn't want it to stop."

You could hear the beads of his bracelets as he played with them, nervously waiting for your response.

"I-It's okay, Corpse. You don't need to be sorry."

You swallowed, this day really came for your neck. Your eyes stung as you fight them off, no reason to make Corpse's day shittier by being pathetic.

"You are not fine ,are you goofball?"

The kind and worried tone of this wonderful individual you became to take a liking of was enough to cause everything in you to break loose.

"N-No ,it's not. Everything been so fucking stressful and I-I don't know what to do Corpse. I try my might to fight these thoughts but everytime they resurface stronger and more disturbing. I can't keep them in control, Corpse. I just CAN'T. A-And I keep worrying about losing all: my friends, my belongings and my family. I feel like I will drive them away especially if I can't bring my share to the table. I don't even know why I tell you these to be honest, I don't want to scare you away but in the same time I ... FUCK!"

Your fists hit the table you been resting on hard , scaring the child in the living room. His cries only angered you more.

"Ghost. Ghost! Ghost! Gho-"

"WHAT?"

You instantly regretted shouting at him,stopping from your pacing too.

"Calm down,buttercup. I know how you feel and going down a warpath or an abyss of sorrows ain't the answer. Come, let me help. "

"You still want to?" Your voice came out timidly and shying away in fear, shielding your eyes in shame despite him having no possible way of seeing your face.

"Of course, you goof. Now let's see what we do with that kid."

You swiped a tear out of your right eyes ,smiling and nodding before remembering he couldn't see, just hear you. That made you more anxious now that you realised that he knows a close guarded information.

————————————————————

A smile ran down your face as you watched the child all wrapped up in his dark blue blanket struggle to jeep his bright eyes opened as his ears and energy were captured by Corpse's singing. It's was a lullaby about moon and love, being in Spanish you only understood unfortunately the words close to your mother language.

You almost lost yourself to the gentle hums , stringing of a guitar and over all wholesome cozy atmosphere when loud voices and thumbs came from the apartment near Fatima's.

An idiot called Tudor who plays the bass part in Sergiu's band lived there, he and his boyfriend Micah. Two assholes who had a bone to pick with everyone, well more like Tudor had ,Micah was a follower.

The sense of protection enveloped you as you caressed the child's hair and kiss his right temple, letting him with Corpse to fall asleep.

Your grey flippers cracked against the stone stairs harshly and quickly. Your glare being as cold as the staircase room.

You knocked furiously on the door, hurting your hands by the metal indentations carved into the door. Your ears picked up footsteps approaching the door in a lazy manner, the two making jokes about what kind of bitch could be bothering them.

The smirk on his long face vanished when his pale blue eyes meet your fiery dark ones. He puffed a lock of dirty blond hair , saluting you in a cocky but intimidated manner :

"I wonder why the Red Riding Hood is paying us a visit? What do you think ,Micah?"

He leaned back to let his dark skinned boyfriend take a look at you. His eyes showed fear but he continued the masquerade in order to please his scumbag of a lover.

"I don't know, babe. Maybe she wants a threesome."

Tudor laughed like then pig he is, Micah lipped an apology to you, his black gems cowering in shame.

Micah wasn't a bad man , he was just naive and a people's pleaser, with no sense of stern morals but even awareness to know he is the wrong. You never understood why he wasted his breath by staying at the side of this buffoon of a dude. You ignored his half-cocked insults, knowing they didn't really had a backbone to them.

"I will appreciate if you could tone it down a little. No one needs to know you two are making a sex tape."

This seemed to anger the taller white as mayonnaise man who dismissed his boyfriend with a wave of his painted hand and moved forward to you. The red door of his apartment shutting up with an echo.

You two glared at each other, not one of the other backing down. Your breath was forcefully calmed down by your anger , last thing you needed is for him to know he was affecting you by coming too close. Your hands shook in their tight grip and you were pleased you cut your nails earlier.

"Just because Sergiu lets you come with us when we play, doesn't mean you and I are friends. Got it, girly?"

His rough tone only displeased you.

"And just because you can string two cords and not sound like a dying cat doesn't mean you are a great singer either, buddy."

"Fuck you." He said that to you in a clasped breath, his teeth biting on his lower lip as his face appeared more furious.

If this motherfucker puts his hands on me ,I swear I will...

"Y/N? Y/N!"

It was Sergiu.

The man in a punk style leather jacket ran quickly up the stairs, his armored black boots clicking away.

His face was twisted into a fearing expression before turning into a more pissed off one. He knew of Tudor's dislike towards you and knew that the both of you won't hold back if this turns physical. He needed to be smart about this.

"Man, come on. Leave her alone."

He moved to come between you ,Tudor's movement of hand stopped him.

"Nah,man. This bitch thinks she come here like she owns the fucking place and tell me what to do? I am sorry, princess, but you got another thing going. "

"TUDOR ISAAC POPESCU!"

A female voice caused his blood to ran cold and you to smirk.

Behind Sergiu, a petite woman in her mid fifties glared at him. Her greying hair caught in a bun,her olive wrinkled face was in a madden frown as her blue eyes shield by fuchsia framed glasses stared at him. The madame in green suit pants and white and black blouse was his mother.

His mother, a teacher at your University, was a lioness of a woman, never detour from the right path of doing things and more importantly never afraid to tear down anyone if they being dickish. Not even her loved son.

Sergiu grabbed gently you without a word as you two left the mother and son quarrel in peace, a part of you already starting to feel bad. You hate when you argued with someone but your anger sometimes got the better of you. Today truly has been an exhausting day.

————————————————————

You are in your room,Corpse still on the phone with you. You already explained what happened and know you enjoyed just talking with him about everything and nothing at the same time,trying to not fall asleep for how calming his voice was.

"You sure you don't want me to end the call. You must be tired from all the noises. "

You stirred, cleaning the droll of your left wnd of your lips. Your head ache as you saw that night has befallen.

"Wh-What?"

"Goofball,I was talking if you wanted me to let you rest but you already beat me to it."

"T-Tj?"

"Your friends said they will take care of them. They were so surprised to find me singing to him, though."

"Ah,shit. Sorry Corpse."

"Nothing to be sorry about, pumpkin. "

"Pumpkin, seriously?" You asked ,snuggling back into the comforter.

"Yeah, why not? The fall season is still up for a month or so."

"Hmm, I prefer goofball better."

"If you say so, princess. You *yawn* you sure you don't want me to let you sleep?"

A panick arised into your soul as you quickly told him no.

"P-Please stay."

"A-Alright."

He began to continue the story one of his subscribers send him as your eyes shut. A smile on your lips at last.

————————————————————

Hey,guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the fifth part of the serie. It was a roller coaster to write.

Anyway, stay safe!💗

Tagged💖:@moolujk @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95 @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @yoyoanaria @gaysludge @mythicalamphitrite

#corpse husband x reader #fanfic #hopefully not cringy #lonely ghost serie

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petiteyoon · 3 years

Text

bunny ears — yoonkook | 10

⚠️ ATTENTION : This chapter contains described smut ! If you're a minor or uncomfortable with this, please read until the cut. The story won't be compromised.

A/N: it's a little short without the smut part, I'm sorry :cc I hope you like it. It's been a while since I've really wrote something, sooo constructive criticism is well accepted!💜

10: 100% brat tamer

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SUMMARY

-> fic type: social media au

-> pairing: rapper!yoongi x camboy!jungkook

-> genre: crack, smut, maybe angst

-> warnings: swearing

-> plot: Yoongi uses masturbation as stress relief and he has a favorite camboy: bunnybun. Everything's fine until Hoseok mistakenly exposes him for this.

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09 <- masterlist -> 11

Warnings : smut, male masturbation, non-con voyeurism? (idk,, jungkook jerks off while watching yoongi on screen), it gets pretty intense towards the end, lil angst because poor koo regrets what he has done </3

Word count : 1k more or less

Two hours earlier

“Actually… I'm going to start in a few minutes” Jungkook muttered while setting up his computer, his phone squished between his right ear and shoulder. “What? No! -he furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched up his nose- I don't want you to watch, Taehyung” he rolled his eyes.

Taehyung kept bugging him about watching his camshow; a thing he never did and a thing that Jungkook, of course, won't ever allow. It would be awkward!

While he sat on the couch he turned on the TV and kept changing channels, while Taehyung, on the other hand, kept talking and talking. There was nothing interesting today. He huffed, until he came across a programme with some boys dressed rather weirdly.

He squinted his eyes, as if he wasn't able to see at that distance, and he immediately recognized the guy in the front row. Yoongi? What was he doing there?

With a quick movement, Jungkook grabbed his phone properly and stopped Taehyung from talking “Whatever Tae… maybe next time. I have to go now, see ya” he pressed the hang up button and threw the phone on the other side of the couch. He stood there, with his mouth slightly open, trying to process what he was seeing. Glancing at the clock, he shook his head and focused on his computer, trying not to get distracted by those boys. He muted the TV and started his live. He angled the webcam so his viewers couldn't see his face, as usual.

Jungkook never showed his face anywhere, because he knew that it could compromise his working life. And because he was too fucking shy for that.

However, this timid behavior captured the viewers' attention, so he became more brave and tried to change from the normal shows he did, to please his audience. His live streams were mainly about him jerking off, but sometimes he liked to push his limits a bit further… and Jimin even helped him with that a few times, but only after a hard process of convincing the bunny boy in question. At this point he tried many things such as toys, vibrators, buttplugs, ropes and handcuffs, and pathetic costumes that made the viewers go crazy.

He waited for a few minutes, watching how the comments flew in the right part of the screen. He pinched his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger, deep in thought. Was he going to let the program play in the background while he entertained his fans? With Yoongi there dressed so nicely?

Yeah the jackets and pants were fucking ridiculous in his opinion, but Yoongi made every piece of clothing fashionable if he was the one wearing it. He tried to focus on his audience, eager to see him in his most vulnerable (and hot) state. He stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and reading all the comments, “I see y'all missed me that much huh…” he grinned, licking his lips.

A lot of comments were rushing past the screen and in that moment Jungkook decided it was time to start.

He slipped his left hand under his black shirt, stroking his chest until it felt too hot to keep that on. He quickly stripped himself, throwing away his shirt and unbuckling his belt, showing his thick thighs. His dick rested heavy against his boxers, waiting to be released.

“Even if I've been absent for some time I'm afraid I can't stay long with you tonight…” Jungkook murmured as he absent-mindedly stroked his clothed member, “I hope you didn't get too much fun without me” he pouted as he gripped his tip, a hiss came out of his mouth right away.

“Where's the maid dress you ask? I forgot to put it on” he chuckled and slowly slipped a hand under his boxers “I will use it next time, I promise…” his tone became more sultry as he started to pleasure himself.

Small waves of pleasure circulated from his head to his toes, focusing around his crotch area, causing his eyes to shut and his head to roll back. He hastily removed the last annoying piece of clothing, finally showing to his audience what they were craving for.

Comments rushed even more quickly, whining and pleading for him to keep going. Jungkook knew how to keep them glued to their screen with his power bottom energy. One thing everyone was crazy about was the fact that he seemed so tough and dominant, but after some dirty words or touches? His fake persona would vanish, only to reveal a sweet boy with a really sensitive dick. And, boy, did he like when someone played along with him.

However, this wasn't the case since he didn't have much time at the moment, and since Jimin wasn't there to help him like the other times, so he had to settle just with his virtual company.

Or maybe it was his television being so distracting that threatened to make him crumble? He tried so hard to focus on the lovely words of his viewers but everytime, with the corner of his eye, he saw it. He watched him.

His quick breathing was the only thing audible in the living room, as well as the slightly wet sound of his hand gripping his lubricated shaft. His left hand reached his chest as he started to play with one of his nipples, a quiet moan slipping out of his lips. He slowed down and started to focus on his red tip, dripping with precum, and suddenly a buzz of pleasure made him twitch. As his thumb kept circling the area to keep up with that blissful feeling, he finally gave in.

His eyes shot open and moved towards the tv. Even if he couldn't hear anything, his eyes were more than enough. Those feline, cold eyes that seemed to pierce through his soul. The way his mouth would twitch in a small smile, only for his lips to be licked soon after by his tongue. And how badly he wanted to have that wet and velvety feeling all over his body.

The thing that made Jungkook almost laugh was that he didn't even know him that much. Heck, he even was Jimin's ex! And maybe he won't even hear from him anymore after what he discovered but, God, was he so attractive. He would give him his whole body, his weak self would let Yoongi do everything to him.

At this point Jungkook was jerking off at a rapid pace, without bothering about the comments or the show anymore. His eyes were solely focused on the brown-haired man in front of him. He felt so dirty about his actions… Yoongi was so perfectly unaware of what he was doing to him, of the raw feelings he was making him feel, of how quickly Jungkook would submit to him.

Jungkook already felt near the edge as he was desperately chasing his orgasm, releasing all kinds of moans from his lips; he was so fucking shameless as he pleaded Yoongi to take him as if he was there. He was completely in his own little world. He swears he maybe even called his name while he was so lost in his pleasure. Doing this while he was just observing his beautiful face felt really intense, he never did this kind of thing; it almost seemed sinful.

The last straw was when Yoongi locked his eyes with the camera for a moment; as his pupils slowly shifted, Jungkook felt like the boy was really watching him. He suddenly felt vulnerable and hopeless. What would Yoongi think if he saw him like this?

A sudden heat exploded on his cheeks and his ears were on fire. His eyes were wide open, taken off guard. It felt like there was a connection between them and it was all it took to bring Jungkook over the edge. As a blinding pleasure pulsated from the base of his cock, his thighs clenched and his hips thrusted upwards, hot strings of white cum painted his honey glowing skin as he rapidly stroked his strained member. He tried his best not to shout that name, even if he wanted to do that so badly, covering it with loud moans. As he came down his high, for a moment he found himself staring at the ceiling, his chest moving up and down as he felt completely weared out.

With heavy breathing he read a few comments and decided to call it a day. He kindly said goodbye to his viewers and ended the livestream.

He brought one of his fingers up to his lips, sucking the digits clean, tasting himself. He glanced at the TV again and turned the volume up, a whimper escaped from his lips the moment he heard Yoongi talking.

What he did was really wrong. He felt like he wasn't capable of looking at Yoongi in the same way as before and he felt so guilty. How could he masturbate while watching a person? A person that he kinda knew?

He wasn't a thirsty fan that jerked off with the photos of his favorite singers, goddammit. He wasn't a teenager in the middle of his puberty. And most importantly, he shouldn't be aroused by his best friend's ex, who didn't even want to deal with him! And who was an Asshole, with a capital A.

He reached for some tissues to wipe the dried cum from his chest and tossed it away with a heavy sigh.

He sat there, still with his crotch exposed as he started at the black screen of his computer, shame slowly consuming him, the faint sound of the TV still going on in the room.

How was he supposed to look at Jimin now? Should he tell him? He really messed up this time.

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Note

Okay but hear me out: Grayson begging to come with you to take care of your baby siblings (like 2 and 4 years old) and he’s ON IT but then they get really out of hand and he’s like “I can see why birth control is a thing”

Listen I worked in a daycare for four years and I’m a firm believer that anyone wanting to have a kid needs to work that job for a week. Or like, forget the stupid baby dolls you take care of in high school, let a 15 yr old take care of 5 babies or 10 2 yr olds by themselves and see if they’ll have unprotected sex lol

You’re walking around your apartment, straightening up the place and removing anything potentially breakable or that might be a choking hazard in preparation for the day you promised to babysit your niece and nephew, when your phone buzzes in the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hello?” you answer, unplugging a stray phone charger from the wall socket by the couch and replacing it with one of the childproof plastic covers.

“Hey,” came Grayson’s voice on the other end of the line. “What time do you think you’ll head over?”

You pause in the middle of the room, confused momentarily, then smack your palm to your forehead. You had totally forgotten the plans you had made with your boyfriend to have a pool day at his house.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Gray. I totally forgot, I told my brother like three weeks ago that I’d watch his kids for the day while he and his wife go house hunting.”

“Oh, damn,” he says, disappointed. His voice perks up when he speaks again, however. “I love kids, though! What if I came over and helped you out?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to spend your Saturday wrangling two toddlers? They’re little hellions, babe, to put it nicely.”

You can hear his grin through the phone. “Yeah. I wanna see you be an auntie.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, you relent. You’d be lying if you tried to say that you aren’t thinking about him being in dad mode for the day now, too. “Alright, but you don’t get to bail when shit hits the fan. Let me check that it’s cool with my brother.”

An hour later, you’ve got your just-turned-two niece Cami and her four year-old brother Cash sitting on your couch, entranced by Aquanauts playing on the TV, when Grayson knocks at the door. The kids’ heads jerk up, and your nephew looks at you questioningly, always excited for the opportunity to be a big boy and answer the door. You smile and nod, giving him permission to scramble off the couch with you following close behind.

You help him heave the door open, and he looks up at Grayson standing there, friendly smile fixed on his face when he sees your nephew.

“Hey, little man! Can I come in?”

Cash nods with an excited smile of his own. You had already told him that your friend Grayson would be coming over to play with them. Outgoing and extroverted and a genuine people-person to no end, he had been as jittery and excited as if you had given him a spoonful of sugar ever since.

Grayson steps past the threshold of your apartment, and holds his fist out for Cash to bump. “I’m Grayson.”

You feel two little hands tug on your shirt, and you look down to see Cami reaching up to be held, curious about this new person but also cautious. You sweep her up and settle her on your hip, then nod at your nephew. “Gray, this is Cash. Tell him how old you are, bud.”

“Four!” he shouts, counting out the correct number of fingers before holding them up to Grayson. “I had a Spider-Man party! Do you like Spider-Man?”

“Dude, I love Spider-Man,” Grayson says exaggeratedly, giving Cash an enthusiastic high-five. He looks at Cami, who’s got her head resting on your shoulder as she watches this stranger interact with her brother. “And who’s this?”

“You gonna tell Grayson your name?” you ask Cami, knowing it’ll be hit or miss if she does or not. Much more of an introvert and also used to having an older silbling do everything for her, she isn’t quite as quick to warm up to people as her rambunctious brother. Sure enough, today is a no-go, but she still observes Grayson with big eyes and a fascinated little smile.

Before you can answer your boyfriend, Cash speaks for her in that typical older-sibling fashion. “Her name is Campbell, but we call her Cami. Or Cam.”

“No way! My sister’s name is Cam, too!”

That’s all the small talk and mutual ground Cash needs to grab Grayson by the wrist and drag him into your living room to play with the pile of toys on the rug. He flashes you a grin as he passes, clearly impressed with himself that he’s already made such good friends with Cash.

You grin and roll your eyes, but follow them and sit with your back resting against the couch and Cami planted in your lap.

Admittedly, Grayson is a natural as he makes all the appropriate dinosaur and car crash noises and gladly accepts the Batman action figure instead of Spider-Man. He even coaxes Cami to take one of the animal figures, meeting her smile with a bright one of his own, glad to be making some headway now with the precious little girl in your arms.

Until Cash catches sight of the little plastic tiger now in Cami’s hands, and decides to ruin the moment completely.

“That’s mine, Cam!” he shouts, dropping Spider-Man and snatching the toy from her.

You know it’s coming, but Grayson is completely unprepared for the shrieking scream that Cami lets out as she clambers off your lap to take back the toy. Gray winces and looks at you in shock, but you’re just immediately going into ‘stop the fight’ mode.

“Cash, you weren’t even playing with that,” you reprimand, holding out your hand for him to reluctantly drop the toy into. You sit Cami on the rug next to him and make her look you in the eye. “Cami, use your words next time. What do you say when you want something?”

Her eyes light up when she sees the toy in your hand that she knows is about to belong to her once again. “P’ease!” she says, swiping her hand across her chest as well, leftover baby sign language engrained in her little brain.

You hand her the toy and make her say ‘thank you’ as well, then catch Grayson watching you in awe. “You handled that well,” he says.

You blush a little and shrug, crawling across the carpet now that the kids are happy and occupied so you can plant a soft kiss to his lips. “Hi,” you murmur, grinning against his mouth.

He chuckles and kisses you again, equally as chaste. “Hi.”

There are a couple more arguments that you have to stop, then they settle down for a bit while they eat a morning snack of banana slices and Cheerios. Cami definitely dumps her half-empty bowl on the floor to signify that she’s finished, and Cash accidentally spills his water everywhere after taking the lid off because ‘he’s not a baby.’ Grayson offers to clean it up while you take the kids to the bathroom to wipe Cami’s messy hands and face and to change Cash’s soaking wet clothes.

There’s a park nearby your apartment, so once everything is tidy again, the two of you round up the excited little balls of energy and head out the door. Both kids have easily become infatuated with Grayson, and as the four of you walk the sidewalk on your way to the park, he carries Cami on his hip while holding tightly on to Cash’s hand to stop him from chasing bugs into traffic. It’s an adorable image, to say the least, and makes your chest swell warmly.

You like watching him run around with Cash equally as much while you push Cami on the baby swings. Grayson is learning first-hand that even someone as in-shape as himself is no match for the energy of an excited four year-old. He chases Cash around the playground, flies him around like an airplane, and plays a game of tag before finally convincing him to come to the swings as well.

You laugh when he makes his way over, panting heavily. “Having fun?” you ask amusedly.

Grayson doesn’t answer, just takes his place behind the swing Cash chooses and catches his breath for a moment as he starts to push him.

“Just trying to figure out how my dad did this with me and E.”

Lunch and nap come next, which goes a little smoother than snack had. Grayson plays with them on the floor again while you cook, and you let him put out the squabbles himself until everything is ready. Cash only puts up a small fight when you lay them down in your bed. They’re both out in a matter of minutes, exhausted by the activities and excitement of their morning.

When you emerge back in the living room, you find Grayson slumped on the couch, staring at the TV that’s now playing Dora.

“Brushing up on your Spanish?” you ask, plopping down next to him and snuggling up to his side. “Or are you watching for the adventure?”

Grayson chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulder so he can pull you closer to him, his voice gruff and tired. “You were right. Hellions, both of them. Cute, but insane.”

You tip your head up to kiss the underside of his jaw. “For what it’s worth, they loved you.”

“Really?” he asks, his voice lighting up with the smile you can’t see.

You nod against his chest, grinning as you think back on the day. “Absolutely. Cami never takes to strangers that fast, and you were able to keep up with Cash, which is a feat not many others can do.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Kinda makes me scared to have kids now. It’s only been like five hours and I’m already exhausted.”

“You’re meant to be a dad Gray,” you assure him quietly, lifting your head and offering him a gentle smile. “If I didn’t already know that before, everything I saw today definitely made me think so. And no good thing comes easy, right? I think being a little tired is worth having one of those of your own, don’t you?”

“For sure,” he nods, cupping your cheek and dipping down to kiss you softly.

You hum into his mouth, needy for him now that you’ve got him all to yourself, and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down until you’ve got him sprawled our on top of you. You trace his lips with your tongue before slipping it between them, but at the first slide of it against his, Grayson pulls back.

“Is this okay, you know, with them...?” He nods down the hall to the closed door of your room.

You nod. “They’re heavy sleepers. We should probably keep it to over the clothes stuff just in case, though. And my brother will be here in an hour to get them, so we only have to wait until then.”

It’s enough to satisfy him, and Grayson ducks down again, ready to pick right back up, until he breaks away from your mouth once more.

“What?” you ask breathily, looking up at him with both confusion and frustration.

He reaches an arm behind you to grab the remote sitting on the arm of the couch. “I’m sorry, I just can’t make out while Dora is screaming at me to ‘vamonos.’”

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fic #blurb #g blurb

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