#which seems to have convinced me that i need to give everyone breaks from me

[hannah-heartstrings]

My tags from that last post. And while it's true that I sometimes feel this way, and it was relevant to that post, it's also just straight up not true.

I know I could have people to share stuff with if I just reached out. You guys and some people I know in person would listen if anxiety would shut up long enough to let me talk.

#so those tags weren't the fault of anyone here #just my anxiety #which seems to have convinced me that i need to give everyone breaks from me #it's not going to just go away is it? i'm going to have to out stubborn it #i've out stubborned my fatigue and cats #i can do this #unrelated: i didn't notice a word was missing from one of those tags until i added the alt text #and having to leave it out of the alt text is killing me

[helluvapoison]

Lend A Helping Hand

Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk need help preening

warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not

[ii]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Lilith used help… when she was around. The thought of asking someone else, much less the act itself, scorched him with guilt

• Oh well. Lucifer did it before, Heaven had rules about it, so he can do it again! And of course he did! It doesn’t mean it’s not an excruciatingly long process he puts off as long as he can tolerate

• You walk in on him attempting to strain his arms in ways they certainly shouldn’t bend. “Need some help?”

• “Pfft, who me? No, no, no I—“ He pauses. It’s like the predicament he’s been caught in settles in slowly, his smile dropping and crimson irises widening to rival a puppy’s cuteness. “Yes.” He admits meekly

• Your fingers barely touch his feathers and Lucifer jolts. Like him, his wings are so sensative

• Don’t take it personally when he tries to back out after that, cheeks bright red from embarrassment. He has six wings and can barely tolerate your touch as is. This could take a while, he already feels bad

• After a teaspoon more of convincing and a gallon of reassurance later, Lucifer sits as still as he can (which isn’t very) while you gently break open the pin feathers

• You could tease if you wanted, make a joke to try and settle his nerves but something tells you his wings aren’t the only thing that’s sensitive

• Lucifer appreciates your assistance and tenderness more than words can describe, nothing seems like a big enough gift to reward your hard work

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Usually it’s Lute that would help him (and vice versa if he feels like it) but she’s nowhere to be found. He can’t casually ask anyone else. Heaven and its inhabitants can be weird about certain shit, preening is no exception— even though everyone has wings here!

• Walking past Adam’s office, you heard a crash and a lot of swearing. “Sir, are you—?”

“Unless you’re gonna help, fuck right off!” He growls from the ground, still reaching at an awkward angle for his wings

• He’s shocked when you sit on your knees beside him and swat his hand away. “If you make this weird, I will leave.” You warn. He doesn’t dare make even a single comment

• Adam shivers when your fingers glide into his feathers. You wave it off the first time but can’t stop a laugh when it happens again

Face first into the carpet, his loud voice is muffled, “Shut! Up!”

• You take pity on him and don’t drag the process longer than necessary. Awarding yourself a final pet of his oddly soft wings, you stand up, “There. All better?”

• Rising to his feet and giving his wings an experimental stretch, he shrugs nonchalantly, “Thanks. I guess.”

• The next day, you receive a basket from Goody-2-Shoes with various snacks. The card reads, ‘Let me know when I can return the favor. Wings don’t have to be included. ~ A’

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• You know she needs help when she’s more irritable than usual. Snapping at everyone, even Adam, and flinching when her wings move in the slightest

• Approaching the subject with her is harder than anyone. As aforementioned it’s unspokenly taboo but that isn’t what stops her. Lute’s deep rooted issues with intimacy and needing help will make her walls thicker than ever

• “This is inappropriate,” Lute whispers.

In the dead of night she’s finally allowed you to assist but keeps fidgeting and surveying the area like someone will catch you two.

“It is not,” You roll your eyes, “Get your mind out of the gutter and be still! I’ll have you’ll feeling better in no time.”

• She seriously, seriously doubts that. Anything she can’t do herself, amongst certain divine exceptions, no one could do for her

• …But she’s letting you help (and your adept fingers are doing a better job) So either she doesn’t fully believe that, or you miraculously raised her expectations

• Lute decides the latter is acceptable– and a compliment, especially since you prove her wrong. Triple checking her wings, she can’t find a flaw or deny how wonderful they feel now.

• “This is adequate.”

You snort, “You could just say thanks?”

“How can I repay you?”

“I just told you.”

• She narrows her eyes, shocked and suspicious that you wouldn’t want anything. Lute, again, decides that your endeavor deserves an equal act of goodwill. Don’t take it for granted when she says, “No. I owe you one. One.”

˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• She genuinely forgets what’s wrong with her when she needs to preen. Even with her wings folded away, the irritable pricking can be felt. She’s itching the back of her neck, hand clawing under the crew of her shirt and dipping between her shoulder blades when you ask when’s the last time she checked for pin feathers

• Vaggie’s always been independent. Up in Heaven she was a bit cocky with the fact she never needed help to reach them. Now, she felt helpless and stupid. Her arms cramped up, her hair kept getting in the way and the itching only progressed

• “Can I–?”

“No.” Her ivory eyes go wide, surprised at the fury of her own voice. Sighing and avoiding your (what she assumed was a) pitiful gaze, she apologizes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I… I used to be able to do this alone.”

Pausing at how defeated Vaggie sounds, you do your best to keep a positive, neutral tone.

“Cut yourself some slack, you haven’t done this in years. And, y’know, you don’t have to do it alone now. Not if you don’t want.”

• Smiling at the offer hanging in the air but not quite accepting, she goes about her managerial duties only to knock on your door afterwards

• Vaggie’s so grateful you can’t see how dark her face becomes as you sort through her wings. They’re not sensitive, they never were– it’s something about your fingers delicately touching her that cracks her resolve. Now she starts to understand why this was seen as an intimate act upstairs

• “Thanks for…” Still blushing, she gestures to her wings before hiding them, “Thanks.”

You try to keep up with her indifference but can’t help the smile spreading across your face.

“No problem.”

• If you think she’s not replaying the moment over and over in her head for days afterwards, you’re wrong. Vaggie’s desperately waiting for the moment to be just as useful to you

˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He’s hardly a fan of Angel touching him the way he does so a solid relationship is required to unlock the level of trust needed for this activity

• The first time it happens when you’re in his life, he won’t ask but also doesn’t reject the offer. Just looks extremely hesitant and uncomfortable

• Carefully, you pinch the rough layer and eye Husk from over his shoulder

• He breathes out a laugh, “Gonna take more than that to hurt me, sugar. Go on, I’ll be fine.”

• His wings might be the least sensitive… but that could also be all that alcohol in his system

• Husk hums as you work. After he gives a big, cat-like stretch and thanks you with a tip of his hat

• The simple gesture means more than you know, he’ll never forget it

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ accidentally on purpose put them from most to least sensitive wings hehehe

big big big BIG thank you to @kottenox for the inspiration and letting me take this idea and run!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #platonic or romantic #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #hazbin hotel adam headcanon #hazbin hotel adam x reader #lute headcanon #lute x reader #vaggie x reader #vaggie headcanon #husker x reader #husk headcanon

[suncoved]

STOP IT RAFE, YOU'RE BEING MEAN! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; bestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary; rafe has a strict rule that if you ever leave anywhere, you tell him. and when you break that rule, he goes ballistic (bsf!rafe cameron x reader)

warnings ; angst! verbal fighting, angry!rafe, kinda mean rafe, theyre both annoyingly oblivious.. warning this did not turn out how i planned it to be but im also not mad at it, idkkkk

to say you were bored was an understatement.

it was a regular rowdy saturday night in the outerbanks, this nights party being at a random kooks house on the figure eight whose name you couldn't quite remember

you were nursing a forgotten red solo cup of punch in your hand, crowd-watching to pass the time.

it wasn't normal that rafe actually succeeded in convincing you to come to these things. because as much as you liked chatting with spoiled self-absorbed kooks over disgustingly sweet punch, you'd rather stay cuddled up in your fluffy pyjamas and watch sappy romcoms on rafe's couch.

but nevertheless, here you were. dreading every decision you had ever made up to that point as you watched rafe from across the room. a blonde kook girl climbing over him and straddling his hips, sitting on his lap as he smirked.

you knew you really had no right being mad at him because you weren’t dating.

but from the start of your more than 10 year friendship, rafe made it clear that you were and always will be his.

so why didn’t that rule go both ways?

with all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, you failed to hear a certain blonde pouges voice echo around you.

you snapped out of your state, consciousness returning to your mind as a hand was waved repeatedly in your face.

“hey! you there princess?” a smile adorned the boys face, a ratty snapback placed backwards on his blonde hair.

“yeah, jj. right here” you joked, smiling brightly back at him as you brought your cup up to your lips.

“thought we lost you there for a bit princess? what’d you doing standing here all alone?” jj asked, surprised to see your constant kook king shadow nowhere to be seen.

“just people watching, the usual. where’s kie?” you quickly changed the subject, wanting anything to get your mind off of rafe.

“around here somewhere i hope. gonna’ try to round everyone up to we can get outta here. early morning for us cut goers tomorrow, fish to catch and things to steal” you giggled at his joke, earning an even wider grin on his face.

you always liked jj. you thought he was funny, and he was the most loyal person to his friends that you knew. and despite his manic tendencies, you trusted him.

“have a nice night j. drive safe!” you said, watching him wink at you before he disappeared into the crowd.

with jj gone, you were left to your own thoughts agian, which was never a good thing.

you glanced over again at rafe sitting comfortably on the couch on the deck. the light from inside illuminating his face as he leaned over to the table, picking up a small bag of white powder and handing it to a random touran.

you bit your lip as you noticed the same blonde from before clinging to his side, rafe seeming unbothered but making no move to push her off.

god, you couldn’t even imagine how rafe would react if he saw you speaking to jj earlier. so why is it that he can literally let a girl dry hump him in the middle of a party and you shouldn’t care?

you didn’t know why you cared though, because rafe is you best friend, nothing more.

right?

you didn’t have time to think about that right now though, you just needed to get the fuck out of this party right now or you were gonna explode.

an idea clicked in your brain and jj dragged a drunk john b towards the entrance of the house, kiara and pope following quickly behind.

you decided that this was now or never, placing your red solo cup onto a random table as you walked towards them.

“hey jj!” you called out, his head immediately snapping towards you. “you think you could give me a ride home?”

it was nearly 30 minutes later that rafe noticed you were no longer in your spot in corner of the house. business was coming to a halt as he sold his last few grams of cocaine, a heavy wad of cash safely resting in his back pocket.

his eyes scanned the crowd for your face, but you were no where to be seen.

and rafe was starting to freak the fuck out.

he knew you wouldn’t go upstairs to any bedrooms, or go out for an impulse swim in the pool. and he knew most of all that you wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and the notification box in his voice remained empty from your contact.

he ran his hand roughly through his hair, pulling aggressively at the roots and cussing to himself frustrated.

his eyes widened as he saw your friend in the crowd, interrupting what ever useless conversation she was having, because until he knew you were safe, nothing was more important.

he asked rudely where you were, watching as her face morphed into shock that rafe was talking to her. because well, if it’s not plotting on the pouges or selling drugs, rafe doesn’t interact with anyone but you or his friends.

“i-i im not sure. i saw her leave like a bit less than half an hour ago. i thought she told you, she always does”

rafe clenched his jaw, hundreds and thousands of thoughts running through his head. “was she alone?”

“n-no. she was with that jj guy and his friends” your friend murmured, nervous she was ratting you out to the scariest guy in the whole of kildare.

it was safe to say that rafe was fucking pissed.

it took him less than a few seconds to put his keys into the ignition of his jeep and drive illegally fast to your house. you liked to piss him off often when you were in a mood, but never with your safety.

rafe never fucked with your safety, ever.

he murmured venomous cusses to himself and he walked towards your house, the pebbles from your mothers perfect drive way crunching under his feet as he speed to your door.

he made a beeline to the entrance of your home, the white arches welcoming and the doorway dimly lit by the porch lights.

he planted his feet straight on the 'welcome home' door mat, lifting his balled fist up to the door and sending booming knocks to the wood panel.

his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists so hard together there was sure to be crimson-red crescent indents from his fingernails. he was fuming.

the click of the lock releasing from the door snapped him out of his thoughts, the door handle turning and the lobby of the inside of your house quickly coming into view.

he locked eyes with your figure immediately, a pink fluffy towel in your hand as you dried your hair. you were only wearing a pair of long socks and rafes shirt which reached more than halfway down your thighs, your face bare of makeup.

you jumped as you saw the look on his face, an anger prevalent in his stare that you had never seen directed at you. fuck. you were in some deep shit.

you parted your lips to speak, but nothing seemed to come out. for the first time in your life, you were scared of rafe. not that he was going to harm you physically, no, never that.

but you knew how much he cared about you and your safety. you just wished he cared that much about your feelings. you wanted him to see that.

"rafe" you said, your voice coming out as a whisper as you watch the lines on his forehead crease together as thousands of thoughts ran through his head.

"what the fuck were you thinking?" he spat as he pushed you as softly as he could into the house so he could close the door, worried the cold of the night was going to make you shiver.

you didn't have time to answer before he started again, running a hand roughly through his hair as he huffed. "you just left? you fucking left a party at night without even texting me, and you let that fucking pouge drive you home!"

you rolled your eyes at the last statement, this was all about jj? "so that's all you care about? me going home with a boy i've known since third grade who just so happens to live on the cut? you don't give a shit about me, you just care about this stupid kook pouge rivalry!"

"don't say what you know isn't true ma. you know i care about you more than i care about myself." he stated, nearly all the anger in him draining out as he saw your eyes begin to fill with tears. he couldn't handle seeing you cry.

"how do i know you care about me rafe? because you don't seem to show it." you sighed pushing yourself as far away from him as you could, your back pushing up against the wall.

"don't fucking say to me y/n. i've loved you from the moment i met you." you finally stopped looking at the floor, lifting your chin so you made eye contact with him.

"stop it rafe, you're being mean" you whispered, mostly to yourself more than rafe. you couldn't listen to him say how much he loved and cared about you for one more second. not when you still had the picture of him being essentially dry-humped in the middle of a party by a girl you didn't even know.

"ma i love you. you know that. you're my world, my favourite girl. why are you fighting this?" rafe said, trying to hold you wrist in his hand before you quickly pulled it away.

"bec-because you can't just say all this then turn around and have make outs with other girls right in front of me. it-its not fair." you spoke, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks in steady streams.

rafe physically flinched at your statement, his palms getting sweaty and his heart rate increasing into rapid beats. was he actually going to admit his love for you right now, like this?

"what are you saying y/n?" he asked, his voice cracking as his face fell. his mind racing with how many outcomes could come out of this conversation.

"that i love you, you idiot!"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst

[girlgenius1111]

i always know what you need

Alexia x R [soft and sweet] smut 18+ after a rough game, and a result you blamed on yourself, you ask Alexia to punish you. she has other ideas.

huge thank you to @occasionallyaurora for the inspiration 🙃

------

If there was one thing Alexia wished she could change about you, it would be your insistence to blame every bad result for the team on yourself. Granted, you did miss the penalty that would have won the game. And the goal scored by the other team had kind of been your fault. But it was an off day for you, and everyone had them. The rest of the team had every opportunity to push ahead, and they hadn’t been able to either. Would Alexia have blamed herself, if the roles were reversed? Most definitely. But as she watched you fight off tears while walking towards the tunnel after the game, Alexia could only think that she didn’t really care that you’d played poorly. All she cared about was making you smile again. 

Her hope that it would only take a few encouraging words from her to make you feel better faded quickly when you pulled away from her in the tunnel, heading right for the showers. You were able to avoid her through the rest of your post match routine, and when Alexia escaped media duties, it was to find that you’d already gotten on the bus. Of course, this match couldn’t have been in Barcelona, and Alexia couldn’t bring you back to her house and keep an eye on you. No, she had to rely instead on Mapi to console you, who you were rooming with. Speaking of the defender, she pulled Alexia to the side as the captain headed to the bus, a solemn expression on her face. 

“Switch with me tonight?” She asked. Alexia rolled her eyes; she was rooming with Ingrid. Of course Mapi wanted to switch. 

“María, are you really taking advantage of my girlfriend being upset so you and your girlfriend can break the rules in the hotel?” Alexia asked, tone biting and filled with annoyance. 

Mapi frowned at her friend. “No. Ingrid has a migraine and I want to stay with her. And I heard your girl crying in the shower. I was trying to be helpful.” 

Alexia sighed. Today was really not her day. “Sorry, amiga. Yeah, let’s switch, thank you.” It wasn’t taking you home, but it was better than lying awake in her hotel room, worried about you when you were just right down the hall. 

------

You were lost in your thoughts when Alexia sat next to you on the bus. She instantly wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you into her, which surprised you a bit. Alexia liked to keep things professional, often going so far as to avoid touching you when you were all around the team. It seemed as though your need for her superseded her need to be perfectly professional at all times, though, because the way she kissed your forehead was far from friendly. 

“Mapi and I are switching rooms, vale? I stay with you tonight.” She murmured, her words heavily accented, as they always were when she tried to whisper. 

You wanted to deny her, rid her of the burden that you knew you would be this evening, but you couldn’t manage it, not when she was holding you so tightly, and when she smelled so comfortingly familiar. 

“Thank you.” You replied, well aware of how uncommon it was for Alexia to break the rules, even for you. 

Your girlfriend shook her head. “Do not thank me. I will always give you what you need.” 

It was with that thought that you began to think about what it was that you needed. By the time you reached the hotel, you were absolutely convinced you had the answer. 

------

Alexia was expecting you to cry upon return to your hotel room. Or, at least, pull Alexia into bed, bury your face in her chest, and try to go to sleep. Anything to avoid talking about it, and anything to avoid thinking about it. She was not expecting you to pounce on her the minute the door shut, her bag in hand, having just switched with Mapi. 

Regardless, she met your kiss eagerly, reaching down to lift you easily into her arms. You wrapped your legs around her waist, and wound your arms around your neck, completely intending to lose yourself in the feeling of her. She seemed to come to her senses after a few minutes though, pulling away somewhat breathlessly and settling you on the bed. 

“Let’s slow down, sí? You just played a full 90, we have to fly tomorrow…” she trailed off as you shook your head, pulling on her shirt to get her to climb on top of you. Alexia was a willful person, normally, but the one place that this was not the case was with you. Almost involuntarily, she leaned back down, allowing you to guide her lips towards yours. 

This time, when you broke the kiss, Alexia looked much more convinced to give in to what you clearly wanted, and what she wanted too, rules and logic be damned. 

That is, until you spoke, grabbing her hand and pulling it towards your throat. “Punish me.” You whispered, a desperate look on your face. 

Alexia instantly withdrew her hand, cupping your cheek instead, a very sad look on her face. “Mi amor, I do not know if that is a good idea.” 

“Please, Ale, I need you so bad. I can’t feel like this, I need you to punish me, please.” You begged, gripping her wrist and pulling it back towards your neck. 

She still didn’t look sure, so it surprised you when she nodded her head slowly. “What my girl needs, she gets.” She murmured, pressing her lips to yours once more. 

Alexia had no intention to punish you. She knew that wasn’t really what you needed, and she was determined to give you what you needed. So she let herself kiss you, for a while, until you began to get impatient and squirmy under her. She kept her kisses sweet and slow, withdrawing slightly every time you tried to get her to be a bit harsher.

“You aren’t being rough” You huffed impatiently, glaring up at Alexia’s face above you. She just hummed in response, returning her lips to your neck and suckling softly at the skin. “Ale,” you complained again. This time, she did respond, leaning up off you to look sternly into your eyes. 

“Who decides what I do? Is it you? Or is it me?” 

“You,” you replied softly. “But, Ale, I need-”

“Who decides what you need, amor? You? Or me?” You didn’t reply, only glaring up at her halfheartedly. She answered her own question when it became clear that you weren’t going to. “I do. And you are not being very nice to yourself today. So I will do that for you.” 

“Alexia I don’t deserve-” 

“Shh, amor. I know what you deserve. Now relax, and let me make you feel good, vale?” 

“Okay.” You replied softly, almost in a trance. Alexia could get you like that fairly easily, she just needed to say the right thing and pair her words with some intense eye contact, and you were ready to do whatever she asked of you. 

“Buena niña,” she breathed into your ear, her hand beginning to trail down your body. You didn’t acknowledge what she said, stiffening slightly at her words. You didn’t feel like her good girl, not right now. Alexia knew this, and she also knew that by the time she was done with you, you would feel like her good girl. 

Alexia sat up off you, pulling at your shirt. You stripped it off, your bra quickly following. 

“You are so beautiful.” Alexia said softly, her finger tracing a line down your abdomen, her eyes fixed on yours. 

You squirmed uncomfortably at her words, and Alexia tilted her head just slightly. “You are, amor. The most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” She reiterated, this time not waiting for a response before she began to kiss at your bare chest, working her way down your abdomen, and pausing at your shorts. 

“Do you want me?” She husked. As if you would ever say no to that question from her. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Then tell me that you are good.” Alexia said, resting her cheek on your lower abdomen, as if she knew it would take you a minute to get the words out. Looking at her from where you were propped up on your elbows, it was hard not to feel good, to feel beautiful. Alexia looked at you like you imagined people looked upon the Ark of the Covenant; like they knew they’d only have a short time to enjoy something so divine, and they weren’t planning on wasting a second. 

 You knew she wouldn’t move until you’d said what she wanted you to, and you decided to say it, even if it felt like a lie. 

“I am good.” You mumbled, so quietly Alexia almost didn’t hear you. 

“Perfecta,” Alexia smiled, finally sliding her fingers under the waistband of your shorts, and pulling them down. She pulled your underwear off, too, smiling to herself at the wet patch already on them; she’d never get over the effect she had on you. If it made her cocky, then it made her cocky; was she supposed to be humble when the most beautiful person she’d ever met always wanted her so desperately?

Much to your annoyance, Alexia didn’t immediately put her mouth on you. Instead, she switched her focus to your inner thighs, leaving light kisses up one, ghosting over where you really wanted her, and down the other leg. After her 2nd lap of this, you grew frustrated. 

“Please,” you whined, hoping that asking for what you wanted would get it.

“You said you wanted to be punished. This is your punishment, I am going to go slow until you are dripping for me.” Alexia replied, one finger teasing over your clit rather lightly, yet you still shuddered. 

“Am- am I not dripping for you already?” You grumbled, your words losing some edge to them when Alexia pressed down just barely, before retracting her hand. She grinned up at you rather smugly, finally pushing your legs further apart, and spreading you open. 

“Mmm, you are.” Alexia allowed. 

“Well then what- oh fuck,” you cut yourself off when Alexia buried her face in your pussy, lapping and licking at your folds like it was the last thing she’d ever do. The blonde’s tongue was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, and you were quickly arching your back, and grinding yourself up into her face.

You were used to not being able to touch. To being tied up, or told to keep your hands off when Alexia got working on her favorite activity. You were used to having to tug at the restraints, or pull at the bedsheets, until the urge to grab Alexia’s head and pull her even closer eventually floated away, like everything always did when she fucked you. 

This time, though, Alexia grabbed your hands in hers, humming against you with pleasure at the sounds you were letting out, and placed them on her head, encouraging you to lace your fingers into her soft blonde hair. 

Once Alexia had done that, allowing you to set a rhythm of fucking yourself down against her tongue, holding her face where you wanted it, it was just a matter of minutes before your hands were tightening and you were getting louder and louder. 

Alexia knew she should care, your teammates were right next door, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind, not when you threw your head back against the bed, writhed underneath her, repeated her name over and over like it was the only word you remembered. 

“Ale, Ale, please, I’m so close,” you chanted, words broken up by breathy moans sliding easily out of your lips. 

“Let go, amor,” she said, barely withdrawing her mouth to speak, and the vibrations of her voice against your pussy did it, along with her lips attaching themselves to your clit and sucking, hard. 

“Fuck fuck fuck, jesus Alexia,” you cried, eventually pushing her head away when it became too much. You’d always been loud, and it never ceased to amaze Alexia how easily you let go when you came.  

Your girlfriend slid back up your body, hand settling over your core as you grinded softly down into it, still working through the aftershocks. Alexia kept her face close to yours, wanting to hear the desperate little whines and breaths that you always made after you came. 

“You sound so pretty when you come for me, do you know that? I love hearing you say my name.” Alexia told you. All you could do was wrap your arms tighter around her, and haul her in even closer as you came back into yourself. 

You whimpered slightly when Alexia’s fingers abruptly dragged through your core, your mouth falling open almost on instinct when she raised her hand up to your mouth. 

“Taste yourself.” She instructed, pushing her 2 large fingers right past your parted lips. You sucked on them eagerly, more interested in having something of Alexia’s inside your mouth than you were with tasting yourself. 

“Buena, tómelo todo,” she hummed, not embarrassed in the slightest at how good it felt to have you suck eagerly on her fingers. “Tan buena, mi niña, la niña mas perfecta del mundo,” 

The whine you let out at that let Alexia know just how desperately you needed to hear her praise you. She didn’t have much time to think on that, though, before your hand was pulling hers away from your face, and directing it back between your legs. 

“More,” you said softly, blushing when you felt Alexia smirk into your neck.

“You want more? You want my fingers in that perfect pussy?” She teased, loving the way your whole chest and neck turned red at her words. 

“Sí, I need your fingers.” You told her, tilting your neck to the side when she nibbled slightly on the skin there. 

“Anything for you,” Alexia mumbled, pulling both her hand and mouth away from you in a way that felt rather contradictory to her statements. When she flipped you around, though, and pulled you up the bed to settle in between her legs, your back to her chest, you realized why. If you were blushing before, you weren’t sure what you were doing now could be described as. Maybe turning permanently red. 

On the wall just across from you was a full length mirror, rather obscenely placed so that most of the first bed was visible in it. Alexia wanted you to watch. You didn’t want to watch, at least not watch yourself. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” the blonde whispered, frowning slightly when you shut your eyes and turned your head slightly to hide your face against her neck. “No, amor, you are going to watch.” 

“Alexia,” 

“You are going to watch.” She insisted. “You are beautiful, and perfect, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I want you to see yourself like I do. Falling apart on my fingers, and screaming my name.” 

You felt like you were getting whiplash with how quickly she was switching between being almost painfully sweet, and being painfully filthy. 

“Can you do that, mi niña bonita? Can you watch yourself take my fingers?” 

“I can.” You muttered, feeling Alexia grab your chin and turn your head back towards the mirror. You were spread open wide, your cunt glistening in the dim lighting of the room, one of Alexia’s large hand holding your leg back.

A soft “good” was all you got before Alexia was sliding her hand down your stomach, right down to your entrance, tracing two fingers over it before easily sliding them in. Her fingers were absurdly large, and it was a bit of a stretch, even with how wet you were, and she kept them still for almost a full minute, before your body was very unsuccessfully trying to grind down on them. 

“Look at you,” Alexia cooed, beginning to pump her fingers in and out. She filled you so perfectly, it was almost mesmerizing to see, if not slightly embarrassing to see yourself drip all over the sheets. “Taking me so well. You are so wet. Do you want another finger, bonita?” 

You could only nod frantically, all your energy focused on not looking away. 

When Alexia slipped her third finger in, you grabbed on to her forearm tightly, breaths leaving your mouth rapidly. 

“Look at your tight pussy, taking 3 fingers.” 

“Ale,” you mumbled, the only coherent thought you were able to form at this point. Alexia was making you feel good, and Alexia was all you wanted; what else was there to say?

“Sí, tell me how good you feel,” she encouraged. 

You took a few stuttering deep breaths, trying not to let the wet sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of your cunt to distract you. 

“S-so good, baby, you make me feel so fucking good,” you managed, feeling Alexia speed up at your words. You realized your eyes had shut, and you forced them back open, not wanting your girlfriend to stop, not when you were so close. 

Alexia fucked you harder, her hand making a loud smack when it connecting with your body, her fingers sounding almost pornographic as the moved inside of you. The blonde began to curl her fingers, which were long enough to brush perfectly over the spot deep inside of you that made your toes curl. 

“Ale, your fingers- on my, shit,” you tried, unable to get the words out. Luckily, your girlfriend knew just what you were asking for. 

“So good, asking for what you need.” She praised, moving her other hand from your leg over to your core, instantly circling your clit, rubbing eagerly against it with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Ale, coming,” you managed, your back arching up off Alexia’s chest, thighs clenching around her hand. Your walls tightened so much that Alexia could barely move inside of you, and the volume at which you screamed her name was sure to bring a lot of teasing both of your ways tomorrow, but Alexia didn’t care. Not when she made you feel good. Not when she made you come so hard, all you could do afterward was flop back down onto her body, panting heavily. 

Her fingers eventually removed themselves from deep inside of you, and Alexia quietly shushed the whimper you let out at the sensation. Her less messy hand rubbed comforting circles over your stomach, and her lips pressed kiss after kiss to your cheek. You didn’t really notice any of this. You felt it all happen, but you were much to content to remain completely fucked out for the time being. 

Though one thought did break through the haze, and you tried to move your hands down Alexia’s body, muttering something about her not having a turn yet. 

“No, tonight is for you. You are all done, amor, it is okay.” She encouraged, feeling you relax back into her. You laid there for a few more minutes, feeling every inch of your skin pressed up against Alexia’s, and thinking somewhere in your brain that there was no better sensation. 

Eventually, Alexia very carefully slid out from under you, promising that she’d be right back, before she disappeared briefly into the bathroom. You could only groan in response, already wishing that she was back in contact with you. 

When she did return, it was to delicately pick you up, cradle you close to her chest, and carry you into the bathroom. She tried to lower you into the bath she’d drawn, but you wouldn’t let go of her. 

“Don’t let go, please.” You requested, and Alexia smiled softly, stepping into the tub with you. She laid you carefully on her chest, hoping the warm water would revive you some. 

It did, and only a few minutes later, you turned your head, resting your chin on your girlfriend’s chest, looking up at her with an adoring expression on your face. 

“Hi you,” she whispered, the English phrase she’d picked up from you making you smile yourself. 

“Hola,” you replied, and she laughed quietly. 

“Thank you. For knowing what I needed. And knowing what I didn’t.” You said, the mood suddenly a lot more serious. 

“Always.” She promised. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really. I just want to be here with you.” You stated carefully, cheeks flushing at the way Alexia’s entire face seemed to soften and melt at your words. 

“Okay, amor. It is important to me that you know, though. I always love you. You are always good. Even if you have a bad match. Even if you have 100 bad matches. I love you the same. Forever, I love you the same. Okay?” 

There were tears falling down your face when you responded, tears that Alexia easily wiped away. 

“I love you.” 

“Te amo mucho mucho mucho,” she promised, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

You’d never get over this intimacy. The ease with which you let Alexia see every ugly part of you. And the ease with which she met everything you hated about yourself with overflowing amounts of love. Alexia loved you more than you could ever hate yourself. 

-------

this entered my brain and refused to leave :)

#alexia putellas x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso

[caelivir]

red lips, dying for a kiss | rayne ames

— synopsis. in which rayne discovers that red lip combos are his weakness.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. university au, friends-ish to lovers, rayne has a little bit of a crush

— word count. 2.3k

— warnings. very brief violence mention in the beginning, alcohol consumption (rayne and reader are 21 in this), making out (i tried to keep it brief), ooc rayne but he’s kinda drunk so

— notes. breaking theme for this one but it’s okay. i wanted to drop this on valentine’s day… clearly that didn’t work out. also as i go to post this hidden lights reached 1k notes which is absolutely insane to think of. thank you for giving it so much love. anyway, happy 100 followers! thanks for sticking with me. enjoy!

dedicated to all the rayne girlies. i pray we find (or already have) a man like him. ♡

ryoh’s parties are always a bad idea. rayne can’t count the number of times something has gone wrong. cops show up. someone locks every single bathroom from the inside. a dumbass jumps off the roof and into the pool. any incident you could think of has probably happened. the last one rayne went to nearly got him screwed over when he fought against a guy picking on his brother, and it was not pretty (for the other guy) to say the least.

from that moment on, rayne had made the decision to never attend another one of ryoh’s parties. it doesn’t matter who begged him or what the circumstances were. no one was going to change his mind on that.

unfortunately, ryoh grantz would not have that. it took three days and a two hundred dollar bribe to convince rayne to go because who would he be if not taking advantage of the rich.

so that’s where he finds himself now, standing in a circle with his friends as music blasts in ryoh’s mansion. they talk about who knows what as rayne wishes he could go home. he has to see it out though because this would be the easiest two hundred dollars he would ever make.

his second red solo cup of the night is filled with some unknown (but surprisingly delicious) concoction that sits untouched. he swirls the cup around in his hand, his eyes darting around the room for an escape.

rayne chugs his entire drink down, setting the empty cup on the first surface he finds before mumbling an excuse of having to use the bathroom, not caring whether his friends heard it or not. he stops by the kitchen to rummage through a cooler, skin freezing as he digs through the ice. he finds two cans of a beer brand that he likes.

he weaves through the crowd in the living room, trying his best to not bump into anyone or spill any drinks because the last thing he needs is another altercation.

unfortunately for him, life always has a curveball in store for him.

“hey, look! (y/n)’s here!” someone had yelled, causing people to push closer towards the front door. the flow carries him closer despite his protests.

the half blonde finds you easily. it’s hard to miss your bright smile, even in a room surrounded by dozens. a crowd surrounds you and your group of friends. they greet you with hellos, offer drinks, and fight for your attention. you try your best to address everyone as you and your friends inch closer to the dance floor.

rayne knows you. your friend groups overlap often so he was bound to meet you at one point. you're popular around campus, known for your friendly nature, kind acts, and most of all, you're known for your beauty. he hears about a new attempt to gain your affection almost weekly. you never seem to accept them for some odd reason. it doesn't matter who it is. the d1 basketball prodigy? the rich girl in your philosophy class? they'd be rejected all the same. your lack of care for relationships has sparked up rumors, but even those never seem to faze you.

as for his opinion on you, rayne acutally likes you, which is a rare feat considering that the half-blonde cannot stand the presence of most people. but in this case, he likes you. he has the smallest of crushes that he wouldn't dare to admit to anyone except his brother, maybe.

in the times your paths had crossed, you had been an easy person to be around, never doing anything to irritate him and always trying to include him in every conversation and activity. it makes him feel all warm inside. the thought of it brings the ghost of a smile onto his face.

he also can't deny that you are indeed one of the most beautiful people that he's ever come across. you would have to be a fool to try and deny that. it's a little shallow on his part to like you partly for your looks, but he can't help it when your smile has the power to blind angels.

"rayne?" your head tilts, surprise written all over your face. he locates two shots in your hands. "woah, i'm surprised you're here! people said you wouldn't come to these anymore!"

rayne is barely to pick up the sound of your voice over all the music. "got paid to be here." he speaks loudly, avoiding yelling as much as he can.

"well, that's one way to get someone to come to a party." you giggle.

it's at this point where rayne closely inspects your face. his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips, colored in a combination of reds. he's never seen it on you before, and paired with the rest of the makeup on your face, it stands out, commands attention.

and it looks… really fucking good. rayne takes the sight of you in fully. yeah, you look really fucking good tonight. the half-blonde gulps, forcing his eyes back up to your face.

"take this with me!" you urge rayne, holding out a plastic shot glass to him.

unwilling to bring himself to say no to you, rayne sighs, accepting it. the two of you raise your glasses up in a silent toast before pressing the plastic to his lips, tilting his head back, and letting the alcohol slide down his throat. it burns. it tastes horrid on his tastebuds. the half-blonde scrunches his nose in disgust, and you take the empty glass from him, how you went unbothered by such a disgusting beverage is beyond him.

as much as rayne wishes he could be with you, he desperately longs to find someplace quiet. the bass of the music pounds against his head. "i'll see you around, (y/n). have fun tonight. be safe." rayne says.

"oh okay. see you rayne." you frown, but maybe that's just the lighting messing with him. he swears there's disappointment laced in your voice, but that could also just be the alcohol playing games with him.

rayne makes his way upstairs. he prays that he won't barge into people having sex. luckily for him, it's still early, and the room that he chooses, the one at the very end of the hall, is empty. he relaxes the moment he locks the door as if a weight was being lifted off him.

the half-blonde sets his unopened beers onto the nightstand and lies on the made bed. he stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, contemplating his life choices. his thoughts drift to you and your gorgeous lips, but he’s quick to dismiss them. when he’s finished with that, he cracks open his first beer, leaving a ring of condensation on the nightstand, and opens up his phone.

the next hour or so is spent watching compilations of bunnies and sipping on his beers. it’s perfectly fine like this. save for the bass of the music bouncing against the walls, it’s peaceful. he feels the effects of the alcohol he drank humming in his veins. it puts him into a lighter mood. however, that peace is disturbed when there’s a loud pounding on the door.

“what the hell?” rayne mumbles under his breath. did someone confuse this room for the bathroom? the half-blonde pulls himself out of bed, unlocks the door, and cracks it open just a little bit to see who it is.

“rayne, is that you? oh my god, please let me in.” you beg, clasping your hands together in prayer.

confused, but without any complaint, he allows you into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

you practically collapse on the edge of the bed, and rayne can sense that something is amiss.

“are you alright?” he asks cautiously, standing a foot away from you.

“do you ever just get sick of people?” you ponder suddenly, shooting to sit straight up.

“sure.” rayne shrugs, still unmoving from his spot.

“you can’t tell anyone i told you this,” you point at him with narrowed eyes, voice slurred. “swear you won’t.”

“i won’t.”

“good.” you nod. “as i was saying, i get so sick of people sometimes. being popular is fucking exhausting. i don’t know how much longer i can keep up with this. i swear i can’t enjoy things on my own time without people barging in or commenting on it.

“i can’t sit on a couch to catch my breath without people wanting to talk to me. not that that’s bad of course, i love talking to people, but christ, just back up a bit. like can’t they just take a hint and realize that i don’t want to talk? do you get that?”

rayne nods. “must be rough.”

“it is,” you groan and then sigh, standing up to dust off your clothes. you stumble from dizziness after having gotten up too fast. however, you shake the feeling out. “sorry, i shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you. that was a stupid thing to complain about.”

“no, it wasn’t.” rayne argues. “people who are always in your space are fucking annoying. i would know so there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.” at this point, he could tell the alcohol is doing its number on him, making him more vocal and bold.

“do i annoy you, rayne?” you ask, eyelashes batting at him, this innocent worry behind your eyes. it drives him mad.

“no.” he says sternly, inching closer, his gaze falling to your crimson lips. that damn red lipstick. he wonders what would happen if he were to mess it up. what would happen if he were to ruin that precise lining of color? what you let him cross that line? in his tipsy state of mind, he wants to find out.

“are you sure? because i know whenever we see each other i kinda cling to you, but if that bothers you, just let me know. really it’s no-” you ramble before rayne cuts you off.

“i want to kiss you.” the half-blonde mutters. his eyes stare deep into your own. your eyebrows raise in shock.

"huh?"

"i want" rayne's hand flexes at his side as he exhales, resisting the urge to touch you. "to kiss you."

"why?" you whisper so quietly that he almost didn't hear you.

maybe this is a reckless decision. maybe he shouldn't be risking a friendship with a drunken mind, but honestly in the moment, he really couldn't care less. he can regret it in the morning if things fell apart.

"i like you." rayne admits.

a moment of silence falls onto the room. you stare and stare, sinking your eyes deep into rayne’s as his confession weighs further down onto you.

“oh thank god.” you exhale, pulling rayne in by his shirt.

rayne practically melts into the feeling of your lips, soft against his own. he can taste faint traces of alcohol on you. he places his hands on your hips to press your bodies together. his palms explore your figure, circling around your lower back, trailing upwards to your ribs and back down to your waist. your hands entangle themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan out of him.

kissing you is a feeling like no other. it’s straight euphoria, maybe even something greater than that. the butterflies flap violently on his stomach. fireworks ignite his blood. being with you is like soaring across the sky.

you deepen the kiss, exploring each other with such desperation that it makes you dizzy. his tongue moves against yours in perfect sync, as if it were a choreographed dance. by the time you pull away to catch air, you and rayne are breathless, huffing as the half-blonde rests his forehead against yours.

you beautiful red lipstick is now smeared across your mouth, staining at the corners and below the chin. rayne pulls his head back. his fingers graze over your lips, admiring the mess. he’s sure it transferred onto him as well.

“you got something right there.” you joke, pointing at him.

“shut up.” he whispers. however, a smile breaks out onto his face, betraying his words.

“so,” you say, snaking your arms around the half-blonde’s waist. “the rayne ames has a crush on me? i never thought i’d see the day.”

he hums as confirmation. “would i be wrong to guess that you like me too?”

“no.” you grin. “in fact, you’d be one hundred percent right.”

“wonderful.” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss. you turn your head, having him miss your mouth entirely.

“i’m starting to believe you only like me so you could have a make out partner.” you tease, causing the half-blonde to sigh at your antics.

“i like you because you’re kind.”

he pecks one cheek.

“because you’re fun.”

he pecks the other.

“because you’re intelligent.”

he presses his stained lips to your forehead.

“because you’re so beautiful.”

rayne kisses the tip of your nose.

“my beautiful, (y/n).” he mumbles with a barely noticeable slur, cupping your face.

“you should drink more often. i like this side of you.” you comment, looking up at him with a gaze that drives him crazy.

“please just let me kiss you again.” rayne quietly begs, his mouth centimeters from yours.

“kiss me whenever you want.” you whisper before colliding with him once more.

in the morning, ryoh has to pick the lock to get into the guest bedroom. he stumbles in pissed off and ready to blow up on the person who dared to put him through such a hassle.

however, the sight he walks into flips his mood instantly. ryoh finds you and rayne tangled in each other’s arms completely knocked out. upon closer inspection, he notes the matching lipstick stains on both of your mouths, and a knowing smirk spreads across his face.

the blonde man pulls out his phone, snapping pictures in different angles to solidify this moment in history.

“he better thank me for this.” ryoh says to himself before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

#anime #manga #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #mashle x reader #rayne ames #rayne x reader #rayne ames x reader #from kor ; ♆

[superhero--imagines]

Dating Luffy Would Include

A/N: Reposting because someone mentioned that Luffy is canon!ace, so these headcanons are just Luffy being Luffy, there's not a need to call it out (Which I see the point of.)

* So Luffy is Ace

* That’s canon

* I am convinced you guys started dating because when you guys landed at a port town, everyone went their own ways, and you and Luffy went together to eat at a busy tavern

* You’re sitting across from him, studying the menu, discussing what you're both going to get

* “This is kind of like we’re on a date,huh?” You say jokingly after he orders for you both

* Something in his head must have clicked right then, that yeah this does feel a little like a date, and yeah, he does like it

* His face breaks out into the biggest grin, “should I order some wine?”

* In his head I think drinking wine is the most date-like thing

* He orders the wine

* You’re half surprised when mid-way through the meal he gets this serious look in his eyes.

* “Can I kiss you?”

* You almost do a spit take, choking on your drink

* “Where is this coming from?!”

* If he wanted a taste of your food he could have just asked not that he ever had before though

* “I want to know what it feels like.”

* It’s a fleeting kiss, nothing more than a peck, but it brings heat to your face

* It’s also at this moment that you realize it’s gotten unusually quiet in the tavern

* You can practically feel the burn of stares

* Luffy feels nothing, instead he grins wide and says:

* “Hey (Y/N), let’s date and be partners.”

* The tavern goes wild

* “Isn’t that straw hat Luffy?”

* “Did he just ask them to be his lover?”

* With your face, as hot as the sun, hidden behind you hands, you nod

* “Okay.”

* He’s such an affectionate baby

* If you guys split up, and he meets back with you again he grins and stretches his arms out, wrapping them twice around you before tugging you towards him

* “(Y/N), I missed you!” He’ll say while nuzzling his face into your neck

* He loves it when you do that thing where you hold his face in both your hands and sprinkle kisses all over his face

* I think his kisses are pretty chaste, just quick, fluttering, pecks

* I think there’s a lot of insecurity on your end at first, because you don’t really know where you stand in his life, and how he feels about you

* He’s only got one thing on his mind — being king of the pirates

* If you had to bucket his ‘love’ in order of priority you’d say number one is himself and his version of freedom

* With his friends as a close second

* And then there you are, a seemingly distant third

* Given his personality you wonder if he knows being your “partner” doesn’t equate to just being your friend

* “Luffy what do you think we are?”

* His head tilts to the side, eyebrows twitching

* “You’re my partner.”

* “Yeah but what do you think that means?”

* “That it’s you and me until the end,” he says without an ounce of hesitation.

* “No matter what happens, no matter where you go — I’ll always be there for you and you’ll be there for me too.”

* In a way, it’s more than you could have hoped for—because when Luffy says it, it sounds like a promise

* You take his hand in yours and squeeze

* His mouth breaks out in a grin

* He loves you so so so much, don’t ever doubt that

* He would literally never cheat on you even though he seems to capture hearts with clueless rizz everywhere he goes

* “You going to go give your girlfriend a kiss before she leaves?” You ask Luffy, swallowing hard to keep from looking at Boa Hancock any longer than you have to

* A woman so beautiful she could give you an entire slew of self esteem and mental health issues at the of her sight alone

* “Why would I say goodbye when you’re right here next to me?”

* And just like that he’s got you blushing and mumbling to yourself

* And just like that he’s laughing

* He’s got you wrapped around his finger

* But don’t think he isn’t wrapped around your finger too

* You look at your plate with increasing concern

* Luffy’s fork slides in and out of view, depositing a glistening piece of fruit with each visit

* “Luffy what are you doing?”

* “You like these right?”

* Yeah, but so does he

* The entire crew shares your sentiment as they watch him with gaping mouths

* Luffy sharing food, you never thought you would see the day

* “Thanks Luffy.”

* “Anytime!”

* You’ll take it though

* God, just the thought of seeing gear 5 Luffy?

* Like he’s laughing up there, his silhouette hangs in front of the moon

* And it feels like you’re looking at a god

* This is what Patroclus must have felt like watching Achilles in war

* You’re brought to your knees at the sight of him

* His gaze swings to you, that same laugh rings in your ears—Luffy’s laugh

* “There you are! I was looking everywhere for you!”

* His arms wrap around you twice, bending space and time to bring you to him.

* “I missed you!” he says, nuzzling his face into your neck

NSFW

Under the cut

* So like I said he’s somewhere on the asexuality spectrum

* I don’t think he’s sex repulsed, but it’s definitely not the first thing on his mind

* So if you want to have sex with him you’re going to have to initiate

* Be direct, because he doesn’t understand any other way

* “Luffy I wanna sleep with you.”

* He grins, “Of course! We can take a nap together anytime you want.”

* “No, like…I want to have sex with you.”

* Oh.

* Ohhhhhh

* “Yeah, sure.”

* He’s willing to try it out.

* His verdict?

* “It was nice but I wouldn’t go out of the way to do it again or anything.”

* His favorite part was seeing you all flustered and panting with that sweet look in your eyes.

* His heart gets about ten times bigger from the memory alone

* He’d take a picture on a Polaroid and keep it in his pocket if he could

* He might get aroused occasionally, and seek you for some ‘alone’ time for stress relief, but it’s few and far between

* He’s a very confident boy, but this one would get to him

* “Am I enough for you?” He’ll ask one night hence you’re alone

* He’s only ever dreamed about being king of the pirates, about ultimate freedom

* So he never realized what a big deal sex was to other people

* And at the end of the day he doesn’t feel sexual attraction

* Maybe that’s a big deal for you

* You put your arm around him and hold him close

* “You’re more than enough for me Luffy, you’re my dream boy,” you promise

* And if you kiss his forehead afterwards?

* He might actually cry

#monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #monkey d luffy #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece live action #opla x reader #opla x y/n #opla x you

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (3)

[Astarion x reader] As I mentioned in a previous post, this came along surprisingly easier than the last one. The same can’t be said about the quality though maybe– sorry for that. :,DDD|Word count: 2.6k.| 

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, one sex joke (lol), the normal warnings that you’d associate with the game

Part 2 here!!

Next Part here!!

As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.

Alternatively: Reader can't catch a break from anything, can they?

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Being resident camp caretaker was surprising, for lack of a better term. You were away from the stresses of technology, corporate assholes, and disappointing family with your choice to pursue unpractical careers. Instead living the “cottagecore lifestyle” of foraging for food and cooking with a cauldron that those from the digital world claimed to be the best. What they failed to mention were the incessant pests coming in to nibble through rucksacks if you were not careful, and the occasional swarms of ants or flies coming in to nip at your flesh.

The experience was a mixed bag, so it would seem. But the tired smiles that the group would give you when you greet them with a warm and filling meal was always a comfort that you would have.

And it would seem they needed it now more especially than ever.

Your band of misfits planned to venture out and defeat the goblins at their camp in order to aid the tieflings’ journey to Baulder’s Gate. Per your instruction, you convinced the more solipsistic members of the benefits of eradicating the sect. Namely, they wouldn’t hinder you as much in the future if they were taken care of. Hence your plan to slightly increase the amount of portions for supper tonight.

By twilight, you had a good broth steeping in your cauldron. The camp having returned just a few moments prior from an earlier excursion. You were making a pottage that the others have expressed their enjoyment for. A stew of sorts that you had made when you had quite the number of items that would have spoiled before consumption had you not done anything about it. A mixture of fruits and meat, stewed in a consomme of a pig’s head and various mushroom caps. 

This time around, you’ll be using fresher ingredients to hopefully lift their spirits.

As you’re chopping up fruits, you think about all that’s happened to you and possible explanations for why your character suddenly ceased to exist in order to make room for you.  What’s more is that no matter how many nights pass, you never end up waking from your dream. Which you fear is lasting longer than your usual ones.

Your working theory is that whatever force, be it magic or fate, tethering you to this world is also responsible for removing Tav. Astarion claimed that he couldn’t remember the finer details when you had confronted  him. And so you settled with that hypothesis. That like how a thread that unravels opens a seam in a garment, a new thread must be used to darn the cloth together again.

You laugh at the disgustingly poetic analogy you created in your head. You fear that you’re becoming more and more deranged as—

“My, aren’t you busy?” The intrusive voice causes the knife to slip out of your hand a bit, thankfully only cutting off a portion of your index finger’s nail. Your shoulders, that were raised in alarm, release their tension after feeling the sudden chill leave your body.

“Astarion,”  Exasperated, you put the knife down on the cutting board to catch your breath for a while. 

“I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped sneaking up on me when I’m doing something dangerous.”

The high-elf offers a mischievous smile in response. “Very sorry, pet. But it’s hardly my fault when you’ve barely been paying attention to me.” There’s regret in his words, but not in his tone.

Because while perhaps it’s an odd interest, he enjoys hearing the quickened pace of your heart. The pulse getting louder, as it stays that way for longer.

“I’d feel sorry for doing so if you were too, but you’re not.”

You laugh out, breath still shaky but steadying slowly, as you pick up your knife again.

 “I heard you’re part of the encampment that’s finishing off the goblins by midmorn.” Chopping the rest of the fruits, you feel his presence move from behind you to off to your side so you can see him from your peripherals.

“Hm? Yes. Although I would have preferred if we didn’t do this at all. It’s too much work, and the goblins could be entertaining! Killing useful spoils seems like an awful waste.” 

This must be the reason why he approached you, to persuade you to call off the hunt. And his unfading smile supports that thought. When you voice said thought, it earns you a playful scoff.

“Don’t you have anything else on your mind other than the parasite lounging in it?”

The mood is light as you say this, the banter welcomed by you both. 

And as you continue to converse, a few eyes begin to follow the two of you. They’ve never really seen Astarion interact with you for this long, at least not away from your private spaces. And even less without hushed voices. The interlocution is definitely a welcome spectacle to them. 

“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He says, proudly. Gesturing to himself with one hand, and the other held high like he was swearing an oath. 

Your closed mouth drops into frown, eyes wide, and your eyebrows skew upwards. A very undignified, but small, squeak coming from the back of your throat. You swore you heard someone groan in disappointment from far away too.

You know full well that the look of shock that you were sporting was by no means attractive, but the flagrant revelation, though not at all out of character, was shocking to have directed towards you. You’ve been trying to romance the elven vampire with your character, only to end up nowhere. Therefore you are completely unsure if the dialogue he was spewing was completely a figment of your imagination, or is, indeed, canon.

The elf in question has seen this expression of yours before. Quite often, too. And while he doesn’t think it a, “pleasant sight,” it is rather… charming to him. 

Whether it be on purpose or not, people have the tendency to be on guard around him, preserving any twitch and sound that could give them away to themselves. Not that much had ever evaded him before with his naturally cunning behavior. But this clearly unscripted response, with the blatant confusion swimming in your eyes, is a rather refreshing sight to see.

“I see–” you clear your throat to lower your voice back to its normal octave. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to uh, bring those thoughts into fruition! Uh–,” You slide the rest of the cut fruits off of your cutting board and into the stew. 

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me? Something I should know?” You turn to face him. He laughs at first, but then his brows furrow in question, as if he did have something to say and forgot about it or thinks it is no longer an appropriate time to ask. He shakes his head and says something along the lines of, “letting you do all the hard work” and returns to his tent.

But you are not left alone for long as another member of your little ragtag team joins you to ask about dinner. To which you ask them for which meat would be better to toss into it. 

—————————

After dinner, your little rapport concerning the plan and new findings with everyone is adjourned. Some thanked you before they left, and others simply walked away. From what you have learned from them, the Archdruid that was taken prisoner by the goblins was named, “Halsin.” He was a topic of interest as they said he might be able to aid you in your search for moonrise and understanding the Mindflayer worms.

Wyll had also approached you alone after dinner and offhandedly mentioned a dead boar being on the road. He had planned to return to camp with it if it could have been useful, but he had claimed that the animal had been unnervingly light. As if half of its weight was no longer there despite seemingly just keeling over for no reason.

You take note of that in one of your many journals, including additional information about the Archdruid and their kind in general. The book appearing more and more like the game’s quest booklet, with the exception of a few crossouts and colored ink to emphasize each quest’s urgency and relevance to finding a cure. When you successfully rescue the druid of the grove, it seems you will have to move out quite soon after, so you fixed up your pack just a bit to make it easier later on.

You look around, everyone seems to be in their respective areas. Doing whatever it is they usually do  with the exception of Astarion. Though he has been known to either sneak off or hide away from time to time in his tent, so you think nothing of it.

You return to the communal chest, tallying up the remaining supplies and inspecting the wares. You sort the tradeable objects in one rucksack and appraise its worth. The chest also has pieces of gold, some that others have placed, and others you picked up and added. You prefer to let the others keep what they think is valuable to them, and only place what they want to share in the vessel. 

If the party’s gold ever runs out, you think that the rucksack is worth a few nights of food when you travel out again. Assured by this knowledge, you placed your writing materials back in, closed the chest, and turned in for the night.

Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. But you also don’t really want to. Not just yet. 

—————————————

As you slept, you wondered about the longevity of your knowledge of the media. You hadn’t finished the game, and although you’ve accomplished a fair bit of it, you worry about how you will face the events to come. One of the only reasons why you haven’t flinched so much at the terrors that occurred was because you had anticipated them. Braced yourself for the dangers ahead.

You fear what might happen when you no longer have that power at your disposal.

Perhaps it's the worry, perhaps it's the stiff, compact ground that you have yet to be accustomed to sleep on despite the bedroll, or perhaps it's the presence of something suddenly cool that stirs you awake. 

But what you did not expect was Astarion’s face hovering over yours to be the reason. Fangs bared, and ready to bite. Your eyes go wide and you let out a small gasp, hands moving up in a gesture akin to clawing at yourself. 

The elf realizes that you’re awake now and he curses. Moving away as you scramble upright just like you did all those nights ago. The look of genuine fear at the prospect of being bitten is apparent on your face, and he feels almost guilty to be greeted with it.

“Please, I wasn’t going to hurt you— I just needed, well, blood.” He says it in a panic. Worried that you might run off, losing his only sure chance, and possibly enraging the rest of the camp.

In this moment, you realized the error in your ways. Astarion had been hunting nearly every other night in the same area. And if you were progressing through the events like how the game did, he couldn’t have had the time nor energy to venture too far after feeding from most of the creatures in the vicinity.

‘The exsanguinated boar…’ You remember.

“You’ve been feeding on animals for the past few nights, haven’t you?”

“It seems like word got around then.” Although unknowingly, he’s referencing what Wyll delivered to you earlier in the night.

“I’m not some monster, I feed on boars, deer, kobolds– whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. And with the damned excursion,” He stops himself, complaining is only doing worse for his condition.

“It’s not enough. I feel so…weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” You’re conflicted. You had no problem offering yourself as your character for him to feed on, but even witnessing that through a disconnected screen was enough to make you feel uncomfortable imagining it. You care about him, want to give him what he deserves, but this…

What’s more is that you know what he’s saying is necessary, not at all overstating how dire his need to satiate his hunger is, making it all the more difficult.

He needs to convince you, if he wants to continue on, that is. Without the presence of the illithid, he resorts to more practical means of doing so. Similar to what he did to many.

Noticing the slight tremor of your hands, he takes the chance to slowly kneel down on your bedroll. Closing the distance between you. He takes your hand, now rougher from the work you do, and meets your shaken gaze with his dark eyes.

“Please. I only need a taste, I swear.” He had meant to tell you before dinner, had he not felt the eyes of the others on the two of you. This discovery is not lost on you. He needs you specifically. And you realize it's out of convenience because you’re an expendable resource. If you pass, the group can venture on, but he also still needs you alive for whatever reason. He can’t have the others finding out, not until they trust him. 

He needs you to trust him. And this is the only way you can help him in this moment.

With that, you strengthen your resolve. 

“I…I trust you, Astarion. But no more than what you need.” A dangerous bet, but you hope it would be worth it.

“Really? I–”

 “Can I trust you on that?” The shock on his face fades, and he agrees.

“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” You lay down, preparing yourself to faint during the process and allowing your blood to flow throughout your body. He observes the rapid movement of your eyes as he drapes himself above you. Your sight flitting from anywhere but him and then returning all the same. No doubt that you fear being at his mercy.

He feels almost sorry that you have to do this for him.

So he graces you with what mercy he can give.

The bite is quick. You would have felt the flesh of your neck parting for him, had he not done so. You feel tears prick at your eyes and start to feel the area from your neck and upwards go cold.

A momentary, sharp pain, that lulls to a chilling numbness in what seems like a matter of seconds.

You feel his body start to grow warmer at your expense and you feel satisfied knowing that you could help him.

When he doesn't stop, you start to worry.

Your breath catches in staccato beats, pulse quickening in tandem. You try to stop him, hands coming up to push or tug, but the heavy sensation that washes over you only permits them to find purchase on his form.

You try to speak, but it seems as if the common tongue does not reach him.

Your mind goes into overdrive, all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore and genuine fear courses through your veins.

You need him to stop, and you try to think of more efficient ways of doing so.

But your mind starts slowing as well. The pain has certainly faded, but the presence of the vampire at your throat reminds you in case you’ve forgotten.

As a last ditch effort, you try to use whatever might appeal to him, to break him out of the trance that he was in from finally replenishing himself. 

“Isalhal–” One of the few Elvish words you recalled.

The effort thankfully makes him pull back in shock, stopping him. Your eyes finally close, thankful for the reprieve you're finally granted. You hear a distant, “thank you,” and a more distant “shit” before rest takes over.

You worry about waking up tomorrow.

But for now, you’re thankful that Astarion will be able to fight well.

For himself and for everyone else’s sake.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, and @auszimbo for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #aware!astarion #bg3 x reader isekai(?) #bg3 x reader

[arent-i-the-fairest]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

crowley is (finally) allowing you the choice of leaving ramshackle to move to whichever dorm you please, but you’re still unsure which one to choose. knowing that, everyone is trying to win you over.

author’s note : out of curiousity— of the 7 dorms, which would you choose to live at and why?

part 2 here!

“so, prefect! tell me, which dorm would you like to move to?”

you froze up. you have to make the decision now? “w-way to put me on the spot..” you muttered under your breath, nervously looking at crowley who was expecting an answer. you like all the dorms! how are you supposed to choose just one?

“i’ll go with… heartslabyul? no, no, scarabia! wait, scratch that, i’ll move to pomefi—”

crowley put a hand in front of you, stopping you from speaking any further. “it seems to me that you’re unsure, but it’s no problem! because i’m so very kind, i will give you as much time as you need to consider.”

“thank you, i’ll be thinking things over!” you waved before exiting his office. the door closed and crowley grinned, spinning around in his chair and rubbing his hands together.

“and i will be informing all your little friends that you’re still uncertain on which dorm to move to— a headmaster must keep himself entertained somehow!”

heartslabyul

riddle is stressed, brainstorming different ways to convince you to come. he totally might just make a powerpoint presentation on why heartslabyul is the ideal dorm to be in, which is gold.

cater is just acting like he always does. he feels no need to do anything extra, isn’t he charming enough as is to bring you to heartslabyul? besides, everyone else doing the most. look at them!

ace “you and me are best friends” trappola. he absolutely exploits the fact that he’s one of the closest people to you, if not the closest. he bugs you about it so much though, it’s kinda becoming counterproductive. not that he realizes it.

like most other times, deuce is dragged into ace’s scheme. and he totally buys that it’ll work too! they have the same logic of “we’re best friends, so they’ll choose us” and they’re gonna die on that hill. of course, until it comes out that you don’t choose them.

trey’s just caught up in the mess. he’s said “riddle, calm down”, “ace, leave them alone— you too, deuce”, and “thank god you’re so chill, cater” so many times.

savanaclaw

leona doesn’t put in a lot of effort— he’s already certain you’re gonna choose his dorm. he’s not overbearing in the slightest, you’re given a lot of free rein, and though other dorm members can be pretty combative, he’ll drive ‘em away if they try to mess with you. it just makes sense that you’d pick them.

ruggie has nowhere near as much confidence as leona does about this, so he’s going overboard with giving you gifts, doing little acts of service for you, buttering you up with praise, anything that might make you gravitate towards picking savanaclaw.

as per ruggie’s request, jack is trying to act sweeter than he normally is. keyword is trying. but he’s struggling real hard— it’s way too embarrassing for him. he just ends up acting like the regular old him. (but the guy is just so likeable, it’s fine.)

octavinelle

persuasion? it’s azul’s time to shine. he’s a master at this stuff, but there’s one mistake he’s making— he’s being so damn persistent and borderline annoying about it! the number one way to drive away customers! unless you’re a fan of that kind of clingy behavior.

but you think it’s hard to catch a break from azul? pfft, he’s got nothing on floyd. there’s hardly any breathing room with him, literally and figuratively. he’s squeezing you nearly every second he’s with you and he’s squeezing hard. you think you’ll have to get your ribs checked to make sure none of them are cracked.

jade just watches from the sidelines. he’s restraining himself from laughing as he sees azul trailing after you as you desperately try to shake him off or floyd tackling you to the ground. when you’re tired of their antics and manage to get away, he’ll pour you a cup of tea (on the house btw), asking if you’re alright. it feels as though he’s octavinelle’s only hope.

scarabia

kalim is basically like, “i don’t wanna sway your opinion, BUT—” he’ll tell you the most amazing things about living in scarabia and how cool the dorm and their members are with the biggest grin on his face. he hypes it up so much it’s sounding like the perfect place.

there’s not a lot left for jamil to do is doing since kalim’s doing pretty much all the work. just to pull you in a little closer though, he’ll flash you a pretty smile and give you more treats (baked lovingly by him) during the day, sometimes reminding you that you could have his cooking every day if you lived at scarabia.

pomefiore

now, vil is sure you already have your sights set on pomefiore— but he is not going take any chances! so he sends rook and epel to spend some time with you. or in other words, advertise their dorm. he’s expecting to see you with luggage soon, asking where their spare room is.

rook is having a field day, he’s probably having the most fun out of everyone here. he’s reciting poems he wrote just for the occasion and practically throwing flower bouquets at you, all while epel…

epel is just chilling. he thinks rook will take care of everything, but no. he freezes up when told by rook to “tell the prefect what you have to offer!” and his brain malfunctions as he tries to put together a poetic sentence. all that came out was, “i’ll.. cut apple slices for you..?” not quite what rook had in mind, but it’s beautiful in it’s own way.

ignihyde

idia is extremely anxious— he wants you to pick his dorm, but has no idea how to convince you into doing it. or even how to make his dorm look like an appealing place to be. he feels like the greatness of his dorm pales in comparison to the other ones, so he kinda just hopes a miracle will happen and you’ll choose ignihyde.

diasomnia

oh, malleus is dead set on having you in diasomnia, you have no idea— he’s pulling out all the stops, pulling so many strings. wins “the most desperate” trophy by a landslide. you just can’t tell because externally he seems so nonchalant. every time he thinks you’re gravitating towards another dorm, he’ll up his game.

everyone’s trying so hard, it’s amusing, lilia thinks. it all looked like a ton of fun, so of course he was gonna hop onto the “winning you over” bandwagon! he’ll recount all the fun stories he and his dorm mates have had at diasomnia! such as studying gargoyles, and training, and the horrific yet oddly comedic injuries had during training… you question if lilia is throwing you off on purpose.

sebek is bugging you whenever he gets the chance, boasting about his dorm. diasomnia is the best dorm all around! not only do you have the pleasure of worshipping the young lord, there’s plenty of fun things to do— don’t mind the dark, intimidating atmosphere! now, why don’t you just go and tell the headmaster your choice already?

silver honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just goin’ with the flow. when sebek sent him after you, it was a bit awkward. he just said, “you can protect malleus with us and take naps with me :)” and called it a day.

you let out a groan as you slumped on top of your bed, grim following after you.

“these guys have been draggin’ you all around! they’re treatin’ this like war!”

“no kidding.” you sighed, turning over on your back. “crowley just had to tell them, didn’t he? now they’re all trying so hard, it’s just making deciding on only one of them more difficult. i don’t wanna hurt any feelings… should i just eeny-meeny-miny-moe it?”

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #riddle x reader #ace x reader #deuce x reader #trey x reader #cater x reader #leona x reader #ruggie x reader #jack x reader #azul x reader #jade x reader #floyd x reader #kalim x reader #jamil x reader #vil x reader #rook x reader #epel x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #lilia x reader #sebek x reader #silver x reader #gn reader

[geopsych]

re: the tumblr ai stuff, please don’t wipe your blog!! your blog has been so important to me and many others as a place of authentic light and beauty and i would hate to lose it forever 💕

there is a way to download the contents of a tumblr blog (it’s in settings, i don’t remember rn, but i’ll find it if you need it) maybe you could upload to another site or a personal site?

i know this is very serious, and i hate how we are unwillingly contributing to synthetic art, but the world would be poorer for me without your pictures <3

Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me.

This is a dilemma for me. I have loved doing this blog and going out to look for pictures and interesting things to bring here has given me motivation and meaning through years of struggle with depression and several kinds of grief. Going out to look for pictures has put me in situations where I have seen incredible beauty, much of which I never really managed to capture. Also, the many warm and kind messages I've received from people all over the world have given me heart and made me feel less meaningless as a person and more connected. Sometimes I've been criticized for buying the checkmarks and giving money to Tumblr but I wanted to do what I could because Tumblr has been my one happy and safe place online. But now this. To me AI in relation to creativity is just a way for well-to-do but untalented people, the proverbial tech bros, to profit from other people's hard work and creativity. It has no redeeming value in relation to creativity and is actively harmful to artists of all kinds. <trying to figure out how to put a read more link here> I don't even count myself among the real creatives, artists and writers and others who have worked hard and put years into honing their crafts, into learning to translate their hearts and unique spirits into their creative expression. I just see beautiful things and take pictures of them. But it would still make me sick to see AI works based on my pictures, on these times and places that have meant so much to me. Recently I saw a set of cat 'photos' on here that everyone was reblogging and exclaiming over but that to me seemed to just be AI art that was more convincing than most. As time goes on more and more output of AI is going to be almost indistinguishable from real works and unscrupulous people will pass them off as real, getting credit for what was actually created by others. Whether they profit from them becomes almost irrelevant at that point because what's worse is that we will have less and less sense of what is real. And as some have pointed out AI will now also be scraping from AI, muddying the waters further from here on in. This is an apocalypse of sorts, an apocalypse of creativity, ultimately likely to kill the joy of artistic endeavor for many who would otherwise produced brilliant, beautiful, funny, and/or shockingly original things. I'm still parsing and dissecting my thoughts and feelings about what Tumblr has done and how to react. Staying and leaving my blog up feels like consent. I am not confident in the integrity of anyone connected with scraping sites for AI. I'm not convinced that a little toggle in settings is going to make much of a difference in the long run. On the other hand I like posting here and I have received enough messages over the years to know that my blog is a positive influence on some lives. I was looking forward to May and June and posting pictures of the incredible beauty of eastern Pennsylvania in those months. And I was planning on making a side blog for posting some poetry I've been working on. It will break my heart to leave.

I haven't decided yet. Believe it or not this whole thing has given me awful physical symptoms. I'll let you know when I decide. Thank you again for your kind and lovely note!

#ask #ai #tumblr #thank you #sigh #the whole you’ve already been assaulted so you may as well stay and be assaulted more isn’t the great argument you think it is

[crybaby-bkg]

Gojo has always been a bit of a glutton. it’s his worst trait, you think, despite the many others that he inflicts upon you in your daily life. but, it’s just not enough for you. he does that with everyone, this kind, funny, flirtatious kind of banter. getou tells you he’s different with you, shoko makes note of how he’s really not like that with so many people.

but it’s not enough. so you start cooking up different things, these desserts intertwined with a certain potion that’ll make his attention be on solely you. you crush your flowers and sprinkle them into the boiling pot, sprinkle in a little bit of this and a dash of that, before you cut off a tiny piece of your hair and let it flutter into the concoction. it doesn’t let out a tuft of pink smoke in the shape of a heart, but you have faith that it’s gonna work.

“I’ll give you a piggyback ride if you let me have that,” Gojo tries to barter with you the next day he sees you, sitting under a tree and unwrapping the piece of cake that you had oh so conveniently whipped up. you pretend to think it over, unable to help your smile as you think about how easy this is going to be, before agreeing.

it happens over time, the effects of the love potion. first, Gojo becomes a bit more clingy. he hurries across campus to make sure that he’s able to walk you back to your apartment, carries all of your bags for you. then he starts buying you all sorts of things that you don’t necessarily need (do you want breakfast?, do you need a new laptop?, can I buy you a new bed?, can we break it in?).

and everything is great at first. you adore the attention, the grandeur way he asks you to be his partner, how he moves you in quick, loves you even quicker. but, after a while, it just becomes a bit…much.

his love is never ending, which shouldn’t be a bad thing, but his love is also—everything. it’s in every crevice of your body, every nook and cranny between the walls, every exhale you take. he’s there—always just there—always just close and lingering and clingy (where are you going? can I come with you? why are you looking at me like that? don’t you love me? I love you, I love you so much, so where are you going?)

it’s not until you’re suffocating that you realize your mistake, all too late. Gojo is all encompassing, takes up all the space in your head and your line of vision and your breaths and the blood that flows in your veins. he loves you—this was what you wanted, right?—but you never wanted this, this obsession that bleeds from his very being every second that he’s near you, which is every second of every single fucking day. you never wanted any of this.

“Baby?” Gojo calls from the other side of the locked door, clawing at it like some forlorn house cat even though you know he could take it down if he so pleased. “Are you almost finished? I miss you,” his voice is a plead, as if his heart is shriveling up in his chest with every second he’s not pressed against you.

with a sigh, do you finally lift yourself from the corner of the bathroom floor, unfolding your limbs with a groan. you don’t dare look at yourself in the mirror, fearing the image of the hollowed person that is bound to stare back at you. with hesitation, do you finally unlock the door. you don’t even have to pull it open before Gojo is barging his way in, engulfing you in long arms that seem to wrap around you like some never ending boa constrictor.

“You’d never try to leave me, right? Because you love me so much.” Gojo says into your hair, his voice one that tries to convince you of its truth. and there is some there, along with the guilt of ruining him in this grotesque way that you have no other choice but to accept and live with until it suffocates you.

“Yeah.” your murmur, sinking into his body, let him hold you so close, you think you can feel his veins pulling at his skin to intertwine with your own. “Yeah, I love you, Satoru.”

(he doesn’t dare tell you that he knew all about that little potion you whipped up, how it never had any actual affect on him for more than just a couple hours. but this was what you wanted, right? for him to love you? so why not continue to just love you in his own way that’s somehow, convincingly, all your fault? why not let you take the blame for his greediness? you wanted this, right? right?)

#sorry if this feels repetitive #it’s my favorite kind of yandere to write 😔 #something about lovesick Satoru that just does it for me #I’ll never get enough of it I fear #okay I’m done writing for the night #the other few ideas in my drafts I want to turn into fics maybe #wait I have another one that’s short I might write that really quick 🏃🏽‍♂️ #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #gojo treats! 🍬

[alotofpockets]

Crush | Leighton Murray

Pairing: Leighton Murray x Jock!Reader

Summary: Whitney notices Leighton's crush on her fellow soccer player and decides to get them together. [Full request]

Masterlist | Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.4k

Over the past couple of weeks Whitney noticed Leighton showing up at soccer practice more and more often. She always seemed to have some excuse to be there, so at first Whitney didn’t think much of seeing her roommate sitting on the bleachers and just went to her to see what she needed but over time the excuses started to get less and less convincing. 

That’s when Whitney noticed who the blondes eyes kept lingering on. She smirked to herself, thinking of how to tease Leighton about her little crush when she was done with practice. 

Leighton looks up from her homework when she hears footsteps approaching her. "Oh, hey Whit, done already?" She says casually. "Just a 10 minute water break." Whitney says as she sits down next to the girl. "So, don't worry, you have more time to stare at y/n in a minute." Leighton looks away from Whitney's piercing eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about." Leighton responds. 

Unintentionally, Leighton's eyes fall on you again. Her mouth falls open as she sees you lift up your shirt to wipe the sweat off your face, which puts your abs on full display. "Nice try, Murray, you're drooling right now." 

That's when you look their way. Leighton quickly closes her mouth but you had already noticed her staring. You wave to her with a smirk on your face. Leighton waves back, her smile a lot less smug. What is happening? She thought. She was never nervous around people. "Oh, you're crushing so hard." Whitney says as she gets back up, to go back to practice. 

Later that afternoon, back at the dorm, everyone sits down in the common room. "You'll never guess what happened at practice today." Whitney says, grabbing everyone's attention instantly. Leighton rolls her eyes at the giddiness in Whitney's eyes. Bela and Kimberly look between Leighton and Whitney sharing looks. "Well, come on, don't leave us hanging." Bela interrupts the intense nonverbal conversation.

"Ugh, fine. Go ahead" Leighton says in defeat, knowing they were going to get it out of Whitney one way or another. "Leighton is crushing on a girl from my soccer team." Kimberly squeals, "Oh my god, that is so exciting. Who is it?" Leighton decides to give in and share. "It's y/n." This time it's Bela's turn to squeal. "Wow, Leigh, I didn't know you were into jocks. She has killer abs!" Whitney jumps in, "Oh, Leighton was drooling over them earlier. I think she is very aware of those." Leighton starts blushing, her love life was never on display like this. "Okay, that's enough, thank you." 

Leighton seemed to be the only one not having plans for tonight as one by one her roommates left the dormroom. She decided to change into some more comfortable clothes. She settles on the couch and decides to work on her homework, she's only a couple of questions in when she hears a knock on the door. 

Leighton opens the door and there you are. She didn't know who she expected on the other side of the door but it certainly wasn't you. "Oh, hi, y/n." She greets you. "Whitney isn't here, she left like half an hour ago." You give her a puzzled look. "I'm not here for Whit, I'm here for you. However, by the sound of it, you were not expecting me." Leighton looks down at her outfit, "Yeah, if I knew I would be having company tonight I wouldn't be wearing this." 

You sent a dashing smile her way, "Well, I think you look great. So, let's not worry about that, shall we?" Leighton shakes her head in response. "Yeah, I guess it's too late to worry now anyways. Now, tell me, what exactly are you here for?" She asks stepping back so you can enter the dormroom. "I'm kind of struggling in my math class this year, and Whit said you're really good at it. She said you'd tutor me but since you know nothing about it, I think we have been set up."

That's when Leighton starts getting nervous. Set up? If you thought this was a set up, did you like her too? She decides to put her nerves aside and ask. "Set up how?" Her question gets another smirk out of you. "I've seen you in the bleachers, Leigh. You're not exactly subtle while checking me out on the field." Leighton is quick to look away from the challenging eye contact you are trying to hold. When you notice a blush creeping on your cheeks you add on to your sentence. "On the other hand, you might not have seen me checking you out the moments you were actually doing your homework while you're sitting there." Leighton's eyes meet yours again, she's searching for any sign of a lie on your face but she can't find one. "Oh." Is all she manages to get out. Seriously, what was happening? She thought. What's wrong with me? She was always the confidence herself but around you she was quite the opposite.

You decide to give making Leighton flustered a rest. “So, are you down to help me? It’s okay if not.” Leighton is quick to answer, “Yeah, of course. Let’s sit.” You sit down on the couch and grab your stuff. You are pleasantly surprised by Leighton’s math knowledge and are very grateful that she’s willing to help you. Leighton on her turn was gaining more and more confidence the longer she spent sitting by your side. 

Leighton asked to borrow your pencil to write something down on your paper. She explained what she was doing as she continued to solve the problem in front of you. To your surprise, you actually understood what she was saying, so you nodded along. She handed you back the pencil, your hands lingering longer than needed. You smile before asking if you could take a small break. “Yeah, of course, do you want anything? I can grab you a drink or something.” Without a second thought you answer her question. “What I want is to kiss you. Is that offer also on the table?” The blush rushes back to Leighton’s cheeks. “Okay, that was smooth.” She laughs. “And yes, that is definitely on the table.”

You reach out your hand and place a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting your hand linger on her cheek as you lean in. Your lips meet in a soft kiss. Her lips feel amazing, you think to yourself as you deepen the kiss. The tutor session was quickly forgotten as you’re making out on the couch. 

After you lay comfortably on the couch with Leighton in your arms. “Want to prank Whitney with me?” Leighton asks as she is playing with your hand. “For sure, what do you have in mind?” She explains her plans before you have to head out. Before you leave though, you share a sweet kiss with her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Later that night when Whitney walks into the dormroom she is instantly met with an annoyed looking Leighton. “What the actual fuck, Whitney? You can’t just tell people I will tutor them without asking me if I am willing to do that.” She doesn’t even leave room for Whitney to respond before walking into her room and slamming the door shut. 

Leighton was already out of the dorm when Whitney woke up, she had an early class. The rest of the day went on and Whitney didn’t see Leighton anywhere. That was until practice started and she saw Leighton sitting in the bleachers again. Whitney took that as her chance to apologize, so she made her way up. “Hey, Leighton, I’m really sorry. I thought it would just be a harmless thing, my intention wasn’t to hurt you.”

You noticed Whitney heading your way so you followed her up, like the plan you had discussed. “Hey Whit.” You greet your friend. Then you sit next to Leighton and put your arm around her before kissing her. Whitney’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, you are so mean! My plan totally worked.” You both burst out laughing. “Yes, it did work. You still needed to learn your lesson though. “Fair enough, I am just glad that the two of you found each other.” Whitney says before walking off. You kiss Leighton once more before heading back to the field. It was nice seeing her in the bleachers knowing that she was there for you and only you. 

#leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #tslocg #the sex lives of college girls #whitney chase #essex #leighton murray imagine

[megu-meow]

romeo - Gojo Satoru

gojo x fem. reader

Summary: you're upset and Satoru has to find a way to cheer you up.

Warning: suggestive at the end.

Everyone has bad days, even the Strongest. Satoru knows not everything can be as perfect as he is, but he tries to brighten the lives of the people around him. He's the type of person to mask his own feelings with his silly and playful personality, but not everyone operates like him. So he notices straight away that something is wrong with you. You're not laughing at his lame jokes like you usually do, there's a dullness to your eyes that he identifies as a product of your sadness and he notices your lack of enthusiasm as well. At first, he's mad. Not at you, he could never, but at the source of your bad mood. Who or what dared to hurt his little mochi, the lover of the Strongest?

During one of his classes, he just tells the kids to practice some sparring so that he could come up with an elaborate plan to brighten your mood and get you out of your slump. Firstly, he has to identify the source of the problem. His first thought is that he did something to upset you, but he brushes that idea away instantly. He would never do anything to make you sad, he takes pride in how amazing of a boyfriend he is. Moreover, whenever you're mad at him, you give him the silent treatment, but you were acting normally that morning - trying to hide your bad mood from him, you gave him a kiss and told him you loved him before leaving the house, so that cannot be it.

"Gojo-sensei!" he hears his name being called by Megumi. He looks in his direction, the raven-haired boy is standing by his side, staring at him with confusion written all over his face. "What is up with you today? You're unusually silent."

"There's nothing wrong with me, Megumi." he answers curtly and the kid is not convinced that he's telling the truth at all. Suddenly, Satoru remembers something and puts his bulky arm around the Fushiguro kid's shoulder, despite his efforts to dodge the side hug. "You were out on a mission with y/n yesterday, right? Did something happen that made my little mochi upset?"

Megumi cringes at the nickname and rolls his eyes, but he tries to remember everything that you said or did during the mission. You were awfully quiet, but he just thought you were simply tired. He didn't think it was a big deal, but maybe Gojo was onto something. The mission was a huge success, but you were unfazed by the great outcome, which should have alerted the raven-haired sorcerer.

"Yeah, now that you're asking, something seemed to be wrong, she was very quiet and didn't even want to celebrate our victory with us."

"Hmmm, that's not good." Satoru says, his right hand scraping his chin like he's deep in thought. "So by the time you went on your mission with her, she was already upset. Do you know what she was doing before?"

"No, she didn't mention anything about her day. Although, when we met up with her she was with Nanami-san, maybe he knows something."

"Thank you, Megumi!" he says in a chipper tone "Class is dismissed!" he shouts and he leaves the kids flabbergasted, as he teleports to the blonde sorcerer with a new found purpose.

"NANAMIN!" he exclaims, not caring that the said man is currently in the middle of a meeting with the principal.

"Gojo, this behavior of yours is unacceptable, we're in the middle of something here!" says Yaga.

"Oh, so it's the perfect time to take a break!" he says nonchalantly, and both Kento and the principal start rubbing their forehead annoyedly.

"What do you need, Gojo-san?" asks Nanami, giving into his shenanigans.

"Did you do something that could've hurt y/n yesterday?"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS GOJO SATORU?! THAT'S YOUR REASON TO INTERRUPT OUR MEETING?!" Yaga exclaims and the white-haired sorcerer mumbles the words 'ew, scary' under his breath, annoying the principal even more.

"No, Gojo-san, I just walked five minutes with her from the main building to the gate, where Megumi and Ijichi were waiting for her so that they could leave on their mission. We engaged in some small talk, but nothing out of the ordinary." said the blonde.

"Okay, that's boring. Did she tell you what she was doing before that?"

"Yes, she was out for coffee with Ieiri-san."

"Thank you, Nanamin!" Gojo said, teleporting away instantly, leaving the two infuriated sorcerers to finish their meeting.

"Shoko!" he arrives in the healer's office with a huff, the woman not even batting an eye at his sudden arrival.

"What do you need, Gojo?" she asks, without looking up from the document she was reading.

"Why is y/n upset?" upon hearing his words, Shoko slams the file in front of her shut, glaring at the desperate male standing in her office.

"She's really upset?! I told her it wasn't a big deal..."

"Shoko, tell me what happened, NOW!"

"Ok, Romeo, be patient. I need a smoke, let's go outside." she says nonchalantly as she fetches her cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of her coat, walking out slowly, without any care in the world. Trailing close behind her, like a lost puppy is Satoru, trying to get her to finally talk, but the woman enjoys keeping him on the edge, so she doesn't say a word before lighting her cigarette and taking a puff out of it.

"The barista at the cafe told her she was annoying and she took it to heart." she finally explains and Gojo is in shock. Why would anyone call you annoying? You're the nicest person he's ever met, there's not a bad bone in your body.

"Is that all?" Gojo asks, because normally this isn't something you would be this upset about.

"The guy might have told her, that no one would ever tolerate her attitude in a relationship." she adds and puts out her cigarette with an exaggerated huff of air. Gojo finally understands and thanks Shoko while he leaves in a hurry, taking long strides.

Throughout the following days, Satoru does everything he can to make you feel better. First, he gets home to you, scooping you up from the couch into his warm embrace, showering your face with kisses, claiming how much he missed you, despite seeing you just that morning. He trails behind you as you shuffle into the kitchen to make some tea, keeping his hands around your waist, softly stroking your side under your shirt. He cuddles up to you, his grip possessive and strong around you and he reminds you of how much he loves you, before falling asleep.

He prepares some tasty sandwiches for your lunch and you're surprised to find a colored drawing of the two of you holding hands with a ton of red hearts in the air around the two poorly drawn stick figures. It makes you smile for the first time since the incident and you stuff the piece of paper into your clear phone case for everyone to see. It warms your heart every time you put your phone down and you remember to kiss your boyfriend lovingly on the lips when you run into him on the training field. He can already see that you're in a better mood, but he doesn't stop there.

He speedruns all his missions of the day, getting home early so that he could prepare a scrumptious meal for the two of you to share for dinner. You're surprised to find him in the kitchen, a huge bouquet of peonies sitting on the counter, and the dinner table decorated with candles and rose petals.

"What's the occasion?" you ask curiously, your smile reaching your ears as you take in the sight in front of you. Satoru is out of his uniform jacket, the white button-up shirt from underneath covering his torso. The sleeves are rolled up, highlighting his muscled arm and a few buttons are loose on the top, showing off his prominent collar bones. His blindfold is also missing, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you in awe.

"There's no occasion, little one. I just thought I would surprise you with something nice. There's no need for special events to show my girlfriend how much I love her." he slowly walks up to you, bringing you closer as he gives you the bouquet, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

"Thank you, 'toru! I love you!"

"Don't thank me, silly! It's what men do when they're in love." he explains like he would to a child, and his high and mighty attitude makes you giggle, a sound he was dying to hear in the last couple of days. During dinner, you laugh at his silly jokes, which he considers as the ultimate win. You are finally back to normal, there is no sign of you being upset in the first place and he pats his own shoulder as he follows you into your shared bedroom. "I'm gonna draw a nice bath for the two of us to enjoy, alright baby?" he asks and he has a mischievous smile on his face.

"That would be nice, 'toru!" you smile and he disappears into the bathroom and he gives you clear instructions to stay out until he tells you otherwise. You wait patiently for him to finish and he sprints out of there on his sock-clad feet, picking you up easily from your comfy bed and he runs back into the luxurious bathroom that is connected to the bedroom. The lights are dim, the whole space is decorated with candles and petals just like the dining table, the bath is full of hot water and bubbles, the scent of vanilla lingering around. You're left speechless, but Satoru knows how to take advantage of that: he kisses you passionately, savoring the sweet taste of your chapstick. He pulls away slowly, looking into your eyes with adoration.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, baby. Please, don't let others make you believe otherwise. You are smart, kind, polite, and funny, no matter what anyone says. You also are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, my six eyes can be the proof of that. I will love you forever, even if you get old and wrinkly."

Your eyes swell with tears of joy, as you cup his face, bringing him closer so that you could invite him into a loving and passionate kiss, expressing how much his words and little deeds mean to you.

"Thank you, Satoru! I love you, more than anything!" you respond, leaving a small kiss on his chest, above his heart that's thumping rhythmically.

"Good. Now, can I see your titties?"

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru imagine #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader

[skulls-soul]

Somebody give me Bowser being absolutely, and utterly afraid of falling in love again

Come on people don’t be scared to break hearts

After years of rejection, maybe Bowser is just good at faking confidence? maybe secretly he’s just as insecure as Luigi huuu? Ever thought of that (probably)

Like come on, give me Bowser, having not only a fuck no why him?!? mentality when he finds out that he fell for Luigi but also a ignoring all of these emotions and waiting for them to die, is the best course of action

What do you mean every time he looks at Luigi. There’s a little ember in his eyes?His eyes are red! There’s always an ember to them!!!

Give me moment’s of butterflies and bliss just for there to be a down spiral into panic and doubt. There’s no possible way that Luigi could love me after all of the things that I’ve done to him and his loved ones.

give me a Luigi falling head over heels for the Koopa and trying to figure out whether or not if Bowser likes him

Not only that give me Luigi going to Mario and peach for advice

“ I don’t know what to do. One moment he is complementing my outfit and then the next he’s calling my eyes to blue” (insert what the fuck face here)

Mario and his wife peach had to try really hard to convince Luigi that Bowser does like him, but for some reason he’s not doing anything about it

“ I know what heart struck looks like on bowsers face and he certainly looks at you that way weege”

But It wasn’t until peach mentions bowsers history of rejection in were both Mario brothers were like oooooooh *face slap*

Now, technically by this point Luigi can just ask Bowser onto a date, but that’s too easy, so how about instead Luigi just blatantly flirts with Bowser in hopes that Bowser would be the one to ask him on a date. Both Mario and peach agree to this idea thinking that he just needs a little nudge nudge

Even going as far as to comment on Luigis affection towards the king

Mario: “ you and Luigi made really good partners in this race, besides when he’s with me, peach or Daisy, I’ve never seen him have so much fun”

Peach: “ Luigi speaks very highly of you. It almost reminds me of the time of when he used to talk about Prince Peasley, that way” (this would’ve been one of the nail in the coffin. If it wasn’t for the fact that Bowser was unaware of Luigis crush on The bean Prince)

 This just leads everyone to be frustrated because all of the hints and Luigi’s moves are not working the way that they want it to. It wasn’t until Daisy mentioned that Bowser is one of the most stubborn people that they know and “if he has his mind set on some thing a.k.a. not letting his feelings affect him and Luigi’s friendship which he seems to value a lot then he’s probably going to fight tooth and nail to keep it that way”

Mario, peach and Luigi: ooooooh *face slap*

 this is in fact 100% true each and every single flirt or comment left Bowser spiraling finding himself laying awake at night thinking about all the wat ifs and the maybes only for him to remember that he had the same thoughts and hopes with peach only for them to shoot him right back at his face with the devastation

Also, give me Bowser trying to separate himself. his feelings for lu is getting so out of hand that he’s starting to imagine that the plumber is flirting with him! what delusion!!! (Smh)

Finally, with help from his best friend, Daisy Luigi, planned on to finally ask Bowser to go out with him romantically

Now, I don’t know about you, but that seems like a good place to insert a happy ending….

Ooooor

 I’m just saying! I’m just saying. maybe Bowser does try dating.…. Just other people aka someone that’s not Luigi

Luigi, finding this out is absolutely heartbroken (my poor boy what have I done?) thinking that maybe he waited too long that maybe him and his friends were wrong and that it was just him getting his hopes up because as we all remember, weege is familiar with rejection to

It isn’t until his dear friend Daisy, ever the hothead goes up to Bowser yelling at him for leading her bestie on and going on a date with some scamp

 Bowser is absolutely flabbergasted, but also over the moon yet also petrified, because he potentially ruined yet another possible happily ever after. Thankfully, Daisy knows what to do to fix this.

While all this is happening, Luigi unaware of his besties wereabouts is in his room, reading a bunch of sad romance novels that don’t have any happy endings. It isn’t until Luigi stands up to go get himself a snack that Luigi receives a text message from Bowser’s asking if they can meet up.

Luigi internally is flipping out because on one hand, he would love to see his Bowser, but on the other hand, he knows for a fact that Bowser his friend would want to talk about his date, and Luigi doesn’t know if he can handle that right now

But this is a Weege we’re talking about. He loves to be there for his friends and family, even if it would hurt him, so he reluctantly agreed.

Let’s say, Bowser invites Luigi to practice racing with him  in where you can immediately tell that there is an awkward tension in the air. Bowser is not to surprised by this, but Luigi is because as far as he knows, Bowser doesn’t know that he has feelings for him. (good Lord Daisy you better hope that Luigi doesn’t get upset at you for outing his emotions.)

They go on a race or two before taking a little break and getting back into the swing of their friendship, when Luigi decides that he would rather rip the bandage off, then painstakingly wait for Bowser’s to open up

Luigi tries his best, not to let his excitement show when Bowser says that him, and his date both agreed that a second one will not be happening. Even so, after hearing those words, lu very quickly made up his mind it might not be what him and Daisy planned, but if he waits any longer then Bowser’s next date might be the one to get to call him their’s a Luigi would rather fail from trying rather than not trying at all

Because the pain of never knowing what could’ve been hurt so much more than Bowser’s potential rejection

“ if you don’t mind, can I recommend someone for you to try a date with?”

“Oh?”

“Ya… you wouldn’t so happen to be interested in a little green plumber would you”?

 Bowser’s takes a moment to realize what just happened and it probably would’ve taken him longer if it wasn’t for the fact that Luigi started repeatedly saying sorry backpedaling try to fix what was starting to feel like a mistake (what can I say I’m a sucker for an anxious Angsty mess)

Bowser, surprisingly soft-spoken says yes, causing Luigi to look up at him. Shock is in his eyes before his smile meet them.

“Cool” Luigi would say as he tries to keep his smile on the down low but he can’t help it especially if Bowser‘s tail decides to  thump besides him

#luigi #luigi nintendo #bowuigi #bowser #bowigi #bowser x luigi #bowser and luigi #luigi x bowser #bowser nintendo #king koopa #luigi/bowser #bowser/luigi #luigi and bowser #if this idea sparks joy then by all means use it for your creativity #angst/comfort #happy ending #I can’t handle anything that’s just pure angst #And refuses to read anything that doesn’t have a happy ending #listen I read to escape reality and I don’t mind being reminded of it’s cold nature as long as there’s warmth in the end

[wonderlandwalker]

Should've Known | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Life brought you and Finnick blissful peace, at least for a little while. (this is a part 2 of He Knows Better but can be read on its own as well)

Content Warnings/Tags: Big time angst, no happy ending this time, mentions of forced prostitution, bruises, did I say angst yet, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: A big thanks to @libertyybellls for giving me the idea of a second part. This is not proofread because I do not have the attention span. It's short but I poured part of my own soul into this so it better not flop.

Everything had been exactly as he could have wished it to be. He had let you in. He hadn't regretted it one moment. You would dance together in the kitchen to the music coming from the radio. He would dip you and kiss you, and you'd laugh at how theatrical he was being, but you'd kiss him back with just as much passion. You'd go to bed, and he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear until you fell asleep. But time moves, and it comes with brutal lessons that he wished he could ignore.

Because he sees the marks on your skin, he sees the bruises they left. At first you used to tell him you were just clumsy, bumped your hip into the cupboard, you'd laugh it off. But he knew better. He knew because this is not new to him, because he has first hand experience.

He will see it when you reach up to grab a mug or as you lay down next to him and your clothes shift. He thinks of something to say. He thinks of ways to console you, and yet whenever the opportunity is there he watches it go by, too scared of your reaction. Everytime he feels the urge to grab you tighter, but he doesn't want to risk you pulling away, because it would break him.

You used to tell him everything, you would tell him about the cats you saw on your walk around the district and you would talk about the new tea you liked that you just had to go show Mags. But yet again, time is a cruel master, because you've been more quiet lately, more reserved. You don't light up anymore when he asks how your day was.

At times he's scared he'll forget what you sound like. Because your voice is such a sweet melody to him, but even the sweetest of things can wither away like a flower that's been looked at too long.

And he guesses everyone deals with it in their own way, but he wished it had been a different one. Finnick plastered on a smile to keep going, he convinced everyone there was nothing going on for so long he tricked his brain into believing it too. But that's not what you're doing. And he's grateful you don't feel the need to pretend around him, truly, he is. But it doesn't mean he doesn't miss the manner in which you used to hum while pouring coffee or the way you would skip down the steps of the stairs when hearing him open the front door.

You still go out, but it's not by your own choice. You know that if you don't show up to the Capitols event and convince everyone nothing has changed, everything will just get worse. So you go, you go and for a few hours you're your old self again, even if it's only pretend. And he hates himself for how much he enjoys it, because it's not really you, not anymore.

In a way the bruises are a blessing, because every time you get one, Snow will leave you be for a while until it's turned back to yellow and the only way to see it is to pay close attention. But finnick pays close attention, and they're never fully gone. Snow doesn't want people getting the wrong idea, so he makes sure you look untouched. But these people are paying customers after all, so he doesn't interject at whatever their heart desires. It is just a week or two, but the worse the marks are, the longer you get, and the more time you have to crawl out from within yourself. If its been particularly bad you seem happy now, you seem happy at the prospect of peace. And sometimes, just sometimes, he sees you swaying along again to the music while you make breakfast.

Yes, you've found comfort in the pain, but you've found agony in its disappearance.

When you're both home, you still curl up next to him, and he longs for it all day. He craves the way your body feels against his and the way you fit into him like a puzzle piece that's finally been put in the right spot. He hates mornings now, because it means he has to lose that feeling and wait an entire day to get it back again. He can't sleep when you're not there, he feels like he's missing a part of himself, like someone has broken him in two and took a piece. When he has to leave you at night, he's not even upset anymore at what's happening to him, no, he's upset that they're keeping him from being with you. Because he not only wants it for himself, he knows you need it too. He knows because he's seen what state you're in whenever he gets back. And he needs that little piece of you you're still willing to give him. Even if it's the only thing you'll ever give him again.

Sometimes he wonders about trailing kisses down your neck. He wonders if anyone has ever shown you actual bliss, but he doubts it. He should be glad, should be ecstatic that he's the only one you actually enjoy being with, but he's just sorry. He's sorry for what is happening to you, he's sorry you're not being shown more kindness. Sometimes he wonders what would happen if he left his own marks, god knows he wants to, but not the rough, careless ones that usually paint your skin. No, he wants to leave marks of love. He wonders if Snow would leave you alone then too, but he doesn't want to risk things becoming worse instead. So he makes peace with the fact that it will only ever be a thought.

He's asked you, he's begged you to simply not go anymore, not listen to what Snow wants. He says he doesn't care what will happen to him, because when he sees you come home with your shoulders sunken and your eyes dulled, he genuinely doesn't. He tells you that yes, he's aware of what Snow will do to him if you don't listen. But nothing he could think of to do to him could be worse than what's happening to you right now. But he should've known better, he should've known you wouldn't listen. To you, Finnick is worth everything. Because that's what you've been doing, giving everything. You've not just given your body, you've given your soul.

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x y/n #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #the hunger games #the hunger games angst #finnick odair fluff #finnick fluff #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fic #finnick odair imagine #finnick fanfic #finnick odair fanfiction #finnick odair #angst #finnick #thg fic #hunger games catching fire #hunger games fic #the hunger games fic

[the-moon-says-hi]

rosekiller fic recs

intermission, by bizarrestars

Evan and Barty have no plans to fall in love.

Life rarely goes as planned, though, does it?

rating: M | word count: 43.6k | status: complete

I’m Not Gonna Teach Him How to Dance with You, by greensenne

“You’d be my best man wouldn’t you, Evs?

There’s an ugly pain burning low in his chest as he says, “Of course. What are friends for?”

—

Or, Barty's father forces him into an arranged marriage, and Evan is to be his best man. Which would be fine if Evan weren't head over heels in love with him.

rating: M | word count: 122.7k | status: complete

do you want me (or do you not), by graveryavery

Evan is sick, stubborn, and convinced that he’ll fail his exams if he misses one day.

Or, Evan is sick, Regulus is tired, Barty is emotionally constipated, and Remus just wants people to get their shit together.

rating: T | word count: 7.3k | status: complete

A Truthful Joke, by justreadandwritex

Evan and Barty have been best friends since the age of three. Now they're sixteen, at Hogwarts, surrounded by couples. They joke about it - a lot - but at a certain point, when is it a joke and when is it a desire?

On top of a sexuality crisis and family issues, Evan has to deal with another feeling, or rather feelings. For his best friend.

And while his best friend seems to pull away from him, Barty tries everything in his power to keep Evan in his life. They're best friends after all, right? Just friends. Ha.

*Some chapters will discuss homophobia or family issues but I always give trigger warnings

rating: T | word count: 30k | status: complete

i would say i love you (but its so hard, i wont say it at all), by graveryavery

“Not too bad yourself, Grouchy. The ladies and gents will love you,” Pandora says.

“You only really need Evan to love it though, don’t you,” Marlene grins.

“He is the only man for me,” Barty plays along, furrowing his brows at how Dorcas elbows Marlene in the side like she’s just shared a secret she wasn’t supposed to.

___

Or, the one where everyone goes on a road trip, the West Coast is beautiful, and Barty is beginning to think that there is something slightly off between him and Evan.

rating: M | word count: 67.4k | status: ongoing

Spider-Man: Death Eater Parade, by basiliscus

Evan Rosier has been Spider-Man since he was 15 years old and he is tired. He saw it all, he did it all and he hates himself more than any Rita Skeeter ever could. Evan Rosier has seen people die. He let people die. Evan Rosier is tired, his moral code is broken and then a ghost from the past comes to haunt him 5 years after he thought he buried him and sent him off to hell.

Barty Crouch hates Spider-Man. He can't stand the bastard who's willing to let people die when he has the ability to prevent it. Barty spends almost every day on whatever scene Spider-Man goes to. Only break to this routine is an awkward university dropout Evan Rosier that stumbles into his life.

//

Evan is living a double life as Spider-Man and quite literally hates it. He meets the only person who hates him more than he hates himself.
There's no person on Earth who hates Spider-Man more than Barty. The issue is Barty falls for Evan.

rating: T | word count: 26.3k | status: ongoing

in every universe (we’ll find each other), by graveryavery

A collection of rosekiller one shots that I will be adding to.

1. the wedding
2. motorcycles
3. winter
4. library

rating: T | word count: 6.7k | status: ongoing

A star for a summer’s day, by her_smile_forges_galaxies

Barty is in love with Evan, and he doesn't know what to do about it.
Regulus is in love with James, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

Luckily for both of them, Barty has a foolproof plan (or maybe not so full proof after all, but you can't blame a guy for trying)

rating: M | word count: 142.7k | status: complete

#doing this again because the list grew a little #and it looks now more aesthetically pleasing #rosekiller #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #evan rosier #evan rosier x barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr x evan rosier #rosekiller fic #rosekiller fic recomendations #rosekiller fanfiction #rosekiller fic recs #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #the marauders era #slytherin skittles #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #barty x evan #evan x barty

[urdepressedslut]

You could never hurt me

♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky realizes what he’s done to you after an episode, and starts to doubt if he deserves to be with you.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of choking

It was fair to say that shit had hit the fan, the sliver of calm that was held before… ripped away.

Somehow Bucky was triggered into The Winter Soldier, allowing many to see how he was in action up close. Much to Bucky's dismay, nobody trusted him even more now. Besides his close friends that is, which sadly wasn't many.

The trio, Sam, Steve and (Y/n) had tried their best to subdue the soldier, but were easily outmatched.

Sam walked away with a sore back, some bruises here and there, while Steve was able to come out of the tussle without many marks himself. (Y/n) on the other hand, had some pretty bad bruising circling her neck. She felt fine physically, having taken worse damage at some other time in her life. Though emotionally she felt torn, knowing that Bucky wasn't in control, but she knew that wouldn't stop him from punishing himself.

Able to seclude them four away from prying eyes, the trio waited for Bucky to wake. Steve and (Y/n) was hoping that it would be their Bucky that would eventually stir, and not the soldier.

"How you doing?" Steve asked her from her sitting spot, a good distance away from Bucky's hunched over form.

"Not too bad... I've had worse." She answered, wincing at the discomfort from speaking.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked with a 'Really?' look.

"Guess not. Sorry... I just..." She paused, exhaling painfully, "He's been through so much, he can't seem to catch a break."

"I know." He said solemnly, focusing his gaze to a spot on the floor by her shoes.

"With everyone looking for him, now we got Tony added into the search squad."

"You really think he won't help us out?" Steve asked, making (Y/n) scoff from her spot on the floor.

"It feels unfair to ask him for help... Knowing what you know." She told him, giving him a disappointed look.

Steve looked into her eyes now surprised, having not known that she was aware. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find an appropriate response.

"Its not fair Rogers... After everything he's done for us? It's not your choice, he deserves to know." She stated, giving Steve a look of disapproval.

"I know, okay?" Steve finally spoke, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

"Hey Cap!" Sam shouted from his spot near Bucky, grabbing both him and hers attention, halting their current conversation.

Both making their way over, she stood behind the boys, watching Bucky cautiously.

Bucky let out a groan of discomfort, trying to sit upright, noticing his metal armed pinned. He glances around taking in the weary looks on the men's faces, while he notices (Y/n) hiding.

"Steve?"

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asked, not willing to take any chances.

Bucky thought hard for a moment before speaking.

"Your mom's name was Sarah," He pauses, "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes." He lightly chuckles, causing Steve to smile in relief.

"You can't read that in a museum." Steve stated.

"Just like that we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked him.

"Sam..." (Y/n) warned, slowly stepping out from behind Steve.

"What? A guy can't be too careful." Sam told her, receiving a glare.

"Enough Sam..." She locked eyes with Bucky, "It wasn't him."

Bucky suddenly focused his gaze on her neck, wincing at the apparent hand-shaped bruise forming.

"I did that." He stated, not needing anyone to confirm for him, he was a monster.

"Buck, it wasn't you. That doctor triggered you." She told him, trying to convince him.

"But I still did it." He retorted, watching the frown form on her face.

"No, because I know you... Bucky would never hurt me." She told him.

"Doll I..." Bucky started, but stopped himself from giving her a lousy apology.

"Can you guys release his arm and give us a minute?" She asked the two.

"(Y/n) I don't think tha—"

"Please." She begged, keeping her eyes locked with Bucky's shame filled orbs.

The two nodded in agreement, releasing his arm and giving them privacy.

"Your heads bleeding, let me see." She told him.

Bucky knew he didn't deserve her kindness, but he couldn't find it in him to push her away, he craved her touch.

"Really, I'm okay." He tried to convince her, even though he was far from it.

"You've never been able to lie to me... So don't try it now." She spoke, her voice shaking just barely.

"Doll, I'm so sorry I..." He choked up, "I never wanted this to happen, my worst nightmare has come true."

Her hands held the sides of his face, smearing away the escaping tear. Rubbing her thumbs up and down, she watched the quiver in his lip slow.

"The only way you could ever hurt me, is if you left me." She cooed, feeling both his arms wrap around her sides, pulling her slightly closer in need of comfort.

"I'm supposed to protect you. I can't protect you from myself. We can't... You shouldn't be with me." His voice went to a whisper by the end, the words feeling bitter rolling off is tongue.

"I'm sorry Buck, but you're not allowed to make that decision for me. I'm always gonna stay." She spoke strongly, no more shakiness in her voice.

He went to respond, but choked on a sob. He truly didn't deserve her, and he still couldn't comprehend that after everything, she still wanted him. Leaning forward he snuggled his face in the crook of her neck. Taking in her comforting scent, he was home.

"I love you baby... I love you so much." She promised, hearing his sobs die down, his breathing slowing.

Lifting his face so that his was inches from hers, he gazed into her eyes adoringly. His eyes danced down to her lips, then met her orbs again.

"I love you (Y/n)... I don't deserve you." He whispered.

He closed the space between them, capturing her lips in a devoted kiss. He let his metal arm pull her onto his lap, letting his flesh fingers tangle themselves into her hair. They could taste their shared breath, feeling the light thump of their heartbeats against each others lips.

Pulling away from him for air, she held his face in front of hers, letting their foreheads connect. Bucky closed his eyes in content, letting their breaths warm each other.

"You deserve everything." She whispered.

A/N: im so protective of bucky, he deserves to be happy 🥺 pls feel free to send in requests 🤍