#in the rare event that i write more ask to be tagged

[wndaswife]

(fic request) pls write this w nun!wanda (if you want) 😵😵😵

to worship and submit | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Being the daughter of the man that leads the church choir means attending the services when you run out of excuses to be anywhere else, but a young woman who's recently joined the parish to become a nun has begun to make your time there worthwhile.

Word count: 7419

Tags: smut, fluff, humour, sacrilege, quite literally fucking in front of a crucifix, even i feel slightly guilty for writing it, strap-ons, rough sex, spanking, slapping, spitting, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mentions of masturbation, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader | MINORS DNI

A/N: SO... i did do some research for this fic... but only SOME... meaning some of the info may be incorrect fyi!!!

gif credit to evilly

Every Sunday since your dad joined the church as their choir leader, you’d been making yourself busy in advance just in case he’d ask if you wanted to come to the services. 

You were proud of your dad — really, you were — because he loved music and loved the community the church brought him, and the church was closeby to where your mom worked as an elementary school teacher, so your parents were able to work together when there were community events that involved both the school and the church.

Though, being happy for your dad didn’t mean you also had to be happy when he invited you to the services.

Sometimes you’d attend special occasions like Easter and other holidays and church events wherein your dad prepared his own assortment of music and such for the choir to play, but only because you were there to support him and what he was passionate about — music and community and his family.

Such events were big deals at the church he volunteered at because it was well-known for its large community; the church itself was closely connected to a nearby convent where it had close ties to the nunnery there, as well as having one of if not the most ornate architecture all preserved within a historically-significant religious landmark.

But for the last few weeks, he hadn’t asked you to go with him because he was so busy with the new influx of students joining from the Catholic elementary school your mom worked at; they were all there singing on the weekends for their volunteer hours, but at the very least, your dad said they were still enthusiastic and friendly kids.

So on the morning of one of the very rare occasions in which you hadn’t had anything planned for the Sunday because you weren’t expecting him to invite you as he hadn’t for the last while, your dad invited you to the service.

You could’ve truly made up an excuse and flat-out lied about being busy, but it’d been a while since he asked and you knew he’d been working hard with the new students in his group, so you supposed it wasn’t so much trouble to accept his offer, even if you did groan it out in a superficial fit about having to get out of bed earlier.

It wasn’t that you not being religious had anything major to do with avoiding going to church, because you didn’t entirely mind when your religious parents brought you to the services for special occasions, but rather because you didn’t very much have the patience or sufficient concern for the readings and worship to attend the nearly-two-hour services.

That was truly your most pressing issue with attending the Sunday services with your dad, but today was different, with an unexpected experience to make you dread going even more than you did previously.

“Excuse me?” a timid, unfamiliar voice chirped from behind you.

You turned to see a young woman standing by the doorway of the back hall where the entrance to the choir balcony was. 

Typically, you sat around there when your dad was conducting because you weren’t very involved in the church enough to sit at the pews nor were you part of the choir. 

But from where you were sitting, you weren’t entirely uninvolved as you could still see and hear the services — it was the perfect spot. 

“You aren’t allowed to sit here,” the young woman told you, running the pads of her two fingers along the edge of her sleeve. 

Her dark brown hair was neatly pulled back into a conservative bun and she was wearing a black plain dress with a modest plain scoop neckline to show the buttons and collar of the crisply-ironed long-sleeved white blouse underneath that all of the church’s nuns wore, but the simplicity of her outfit and the uncovering of her hair meant to you that she was presently studying at the church to become a nun. 

“I’m the choir dude’s daughter,” you said with a polite smile and looked away, expecting for your response to be all the elaboration she needed. 

In a way that was subtle with the intention not to be offensive but in that very manner was offensive in itself because of how irritating her caution was, the woman cleared her throat. 

“I-I know,” she pressed, “but this area isn’t open for seating. For anyone.”

When you didn’t answer for a moment as you stared at her, she quickly said, “I’m sorry. They told me to tell you.”

“I’ll find a spot in the pews,” you answered and collected your things. 

From the corner of your eye, it seemed that she wanted to offer a seating alternative just to make up for what she was forced to tell you, but there wasn’t very much else she could offer. 

That Thursday, you were back at the church to pick up an ironed uniform for your dad; it was for a special event set for the upcoming Sunday, and the church pressed it for him and everything. 

It was a nice gesture.

They were nice people.

On Thursdays, there were only morning services and events for children in another spacious room where they could colour and play with the church’s team leaders and nuns. 

But in the afternoon — which it now was — there wasn’t anything going on. 

When you arrived, the church was still and warm with gentle sunlight shining through the stained glass windows and casting a myriad of colours against the pews. 

You looked over your dad’s text again and walked through the directions he told you to take to get to the back halls of the church, just a few turns from the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. 

The room where you were to pick up the uniform was as pretty as the rest of the church; it was a small prayer room with a pedestal and stained windows and red carpeting, but it was much cozier and probably hadn’t been used for prayer for the group size it was designed for in a little while.

You could see through the glass door the folded uniform for your dad on the windowsill behind the pedestal with a name tag placed on top of it ready for pick-up along with a few other clothes for some other church volunteers. 

Upon entry, you closed the door quietly behind you and stepped into the room where you could now see a small table by the window and a familiar young woman sitting with a notebook, jotting a few things down from what looked like a leather-bound book. 

“Can I just get my dad’s uniform from there, or do I need to sign it off or something?” you asked, announcing your presence. 

She looked up from the notebook and at you then to the uniforms on the windowsill. 

“Oh, you’re…” She paused and thought for a moment. “The choir conductor’s daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“I can sign it off for you,” she replied and smiled. 

She stood from the table and walked around it to the uniforms, where a piece of paper was set beside the line of neatly-folded clothes.

You watched as she jotted down a few things onto the paper with a pen before carefully picking up the packaged uniform and turning to hand it to you.

“Thank you,” you answered. 

“Of course. Have a good day,” she replied and bid you a goodbye before heading back to the table by the window. 

You were on the way to leave the room, but you couldn’t, for some odd reason, take your eyes away from the way she lowered herself into her seat and resumed her notetaking. 

She didn’t notice when you changed your direction and walked towards the table she was sitting at until you were perhaps just a metre away from her, when she then looked up from her notes and up at you. 

“Did I give you the wrong uniform?” she asked, worried and now standing up from her chair. 

“No,” you answered quickly and waved your hand.

She stayed standing, curious as to why you walked back. 

“Hard at work?” you asked, pointing at her notebook. 

Confused for a moment, perhaps by your curiosity in speaking with her, she looked over to her notebook and then back at you with a friendly smile, “Yes, a little. They gave me something to study from. I’m just taking notes.”

Carefully, you reached forward and spun her notebook around so you could read it. 

Her curiosity seemed to spike when you leaned forward to read her notes, and she looked at you with a small smile. 

“Um,” she started awkwardly. “I want to apologise for earlier this week. For making you move seats.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you replied and looked up from her notes to smile at her reassuringly. “I know they just made you tell me because you’re new.”

The young woman seemed reassured, her shoulders even relaxing a bit when you said it. 

“You’re still… What do you call it? Like, you’re studying to be a nun here? Not fully one yet?”

She shook her head. 

“Yes, I’m in the study period before becoming a novitiate,” she answered. 

Your fingers ran over her delicate handwriting, feeling the indentations of her pen against the paper.

“To worship and submit,” you read aloud from the notebook. “Fascinating.”

She caught onto your twinge of sarcasm but approached it with humour, laughing a little and conceding, “It is a bit medieval, but an important quality, I’d presume.”

Reflecting suddenly on how young the woman seemed much younger than the other nuns, you asked her, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

She was a bit older than you, but still quite young.

Her hair was down now, though still neatly brushed and free of frizz and tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and an ankle-length black skirt patterned lightly with gardenias. 

“How did you get into wanting to be a nun, anyhow?” you asked and moved your attention away from the notebook and towards her. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“I-I don’t?” she inquired, almost sounding nervous at the implication that she wasn’t training herself properly. 

“I mean, pious and submissive — sure,” you said, referring to her notes, which made her seem a bit flustered, “but not like a nun.”

She questioned curiously, “More like…?”

After humming aloud in thought, you turned to her with your hip laying against the edge of the table and suggested, “Elementary school teacher. Vet. I don’t know, something like that.”

She was pretty — truly. 

Cute, even. 

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a vet,” she told you, smiling sweetly. 

“Changed your mind?”

“Younger as in quite young, perhaps around ten,” she recalled. “My parents are both rather religious and ever since I turned fourteen it’s always been their intention to have me join a congregation.”

Interest piqued, you asked, “And your intention for yourself was…?”

“For myself?” she repeated as if taken by surprise. 

You nodded once. 

She paused for a moment to hum thoughtfully before saying, “I was happy to follow whichever path my parents intended for me.”

“You find passion in nunnery?” you asked. “Genuine question — not judging.”

“Of course,” she answered. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you quickly checked it to see that your dad had messaged asking if you were able to pick up his uniform.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been holding you back from something,” the woman apologised and stepped to the side to allow you to leave.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket and adjusting your dad’s uniform in your hand, you replied, “No, not at all. My dad’s just impatient. I should get going now though, since here’s a few errands I have to run before noon.”

She nodded in understanding. 

“It was nice being able to talk with you,” she then said. “I haven’t been able to talk with very many people since I came here. It’s all just been about studying and the church.”

Before you left, you made sure to ask for her name, to which she replied telling you it was ‘Wanda.’

Cute name.

It’d been quite a while since you ever attended the services two weeks in a row. The last you did was during the last half of August the first year your dad started conducting the church choir, during which you had nothing else to do but wait for classes to start — so you went to the services.

This time, because the church was celebrating something special, your dad asked both you and your mother to attend the service because he’d been working on preparing a set of songs for the occasion.

Under the guise of being a supportive daughter, your parents didn’t second guess why you were so willing to attend the service this week, nor did they ask if there was a certain individual you were perhaps a bit excited to see again.

Truthfully, you couldn’t stop thinking of Wanda since you last saw her a few days ago. There was much to her you felt laid dormant and sleeping, awakened only just in the slightest during the conversation you had with her. She was kind and curious, but also painfully naive. 

She was a few years older than you but knew far less about the truth of her own ambitions and strayed perhaps not even a foot’s distance away from behind her parents’ shadows.

Wanda was interesting, but intrigued you for far too long for her to be only that. Though you couldn’t very well figure out what it was about her that made her bounce around in your head like a pinball until an unassuming evening.

It was sincerely an unrelated act when you first started, travelling your hand down between your legs in the silence of the evening to relieve yourself of the pent-up stress from classes that’d come over you during the last few days.

Truly, it was completely unrelated to Wanda and anything and everything about her when you started, and even during, until you reached your peak of release and found your imagination flashing with curiosities about what she looked like under her garments, how she’d squeal if you spanked her ass and if she’d like it, or how she’d cry out in sheer pleasure if you forced her down and made her take her spankings regardless.

For a moment afterwards there was guilt, but every day onwards there was curiosity, wondering for hours about what you’d seen when you reached that point of pleasure during which Wanda was your only muse.

You’d like to tell yourself it was only that curiosity that guided your willingness to attend the service with your parents, but it was something else entirely too — something completely carnal.

For the first hour of the service, Wanda was still nowhere to be seen. Because of the church’s connections with its convent, the nuns had a large role in some of the day-to-day happenings, but mostly during important church events like what you were presently attending.

Wanda wasn’t a nun yet; she was yet to be even a novitiate as she had mentioned, and so perhaps she just didn’t get to attend events like these. 

Though you personally found that counter-productive, you weren't one to complain about the convent’s decisions, but you did wish you got to see Wanda.

If she wasn’t one to be able to attend such events, when would you see her next?

After coming to the realisation that you probably just weren’t going to see her today or perhaps even for a little while, you excused yourself after having been present for nearly all of your dad’s song arrangements and with enough time to be able to be back from the washroom with well-enough time to catch the rest of his songs.

To your surprise, you saw the very woman who’d been on your mind for the last hour was sitting in the hall by the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. She was wearing the same outfit as she had been the first time you met her, with her hair done up in the same way too.

“Excuse me, but you aren’t allowed to sit here,” you teased, approaching from the right and walking into the hallway.

She quickly swiped at her eyes and began to apologise before she raised her head and saw it was you who had spoken to her, and you who now stood beside the bench she was sitting on.

Though she smiled and seemed relieved and happy to see you, you could tell that she’d just been crying — alone in this hallway away from the service and the nuns and sitting at the far end of the bench so as not to be seen by the people attending the mass.

Wanda stood, running her palms down the sides of her dress with a friendly smile while saying, “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly as you focused on the slight redness of her eyes and the tip of her nose. 

You then asked once you were sure she’d been crying, “Are you okay?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious after realising it must've been obvious that she’d been crying, Wanda carefully wiped under her eyes again and even tried making herself seem less dishevelled by tucking her hair behind her ears before you took her hands away from her face and made her stop fidgeting with her appearance.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” you pressed.

Dismissively as to not bring any more attention to herself, she told you, “It’s really nothing. It’s nothing to bother you with.”

“I wanna be bothered,” you answered lightheartedly. “Come on.”

Wanda smiled at your gaiety and you urged her to tell you what was wrong once more before she finally exhaled in surrender though she didn’t sit down before speaking, implying that in spite of the fact of giving in to you, she wasn’t very well planning on delving too deep into what had been bothering her.

“Earlier today, I had accidentally misplaced the leather book I’d been studying from — the one you saw me with a few days prior, if you can remember,” she said. “And I was scolded terribly for it. It was quite deserving as it was an important collection of notes and such, so I do not question from where my scolding had come, but it seems to me that all I’ve done since I started here is get myself in trouble with the other nuns.”

Here, you tried taking her hand and urging her to sit down, but she wouldn’t, and slipped her fingers out of your hold.

“They found the book in one of the small prayer rooms I’d been studying in, so at the very least it was not a mistake of ruining the integrity of the book by losing it completely, but rather the very principle of having been given something so important and misplacing it,” she continued.

Wanda swallowed and seemed to be contemplating whether to go into more detail, and you could tell that there was something else that had been bothering her that didn’t exactly have to do with misplacing the book.

Before she had the chance to make a decision, there was a passerby who came from the service in search of the restrooms, which interrupted Wanda’s train of thought as she and the man exchanged a brief hello.

“We can go somewhere else,” you offered, taking her hand and heading down the hallway with her. She didn’t take her hand away from you this time, but instead told you that she only needed time to be on her own and that she was fine now. 

The only other place you knew was the prayer room you picked your dad’s uniform up in, and fortunately it was unlocked.

You ushered Wanda into the room and she smiled at you from behind and you led her forward to one of the front seats in front of the altar, regarding you with admiration for the effort you put into wanting to express your concern for her and make sure she felt heard. 

The early morning beams of light shone through the stained glass like they had that afternoon you’d come here a few days prior, but the room was far less stuffy now, familiar and almost reminiscent of something nostalgic. 

The feeling could easily be because of the fact that you’d been envisioning what you could remember from it nearly every hour since that past Thursday, with the room in the background of your mental portrait of Wanda. 

She settled down in the seat beside you, feeling encouraged more so because she wanted now to be closer to you rather than solely to sit and talk about what had been bothering her. 

But she could partake in the latter if that was what you asked of her — and it was. 

“I know that I hardly know you, but I’ve been here for nearly a whole month and you are the person I feel closest to,” she confessed.

You felt flattered, though you knew telling you that she felt close to you wasn’t exactly the point of why she said that. 

Wanda further reflected aloud, “I’m getting nowhere I’m supposed to, not finding the call to God like both my parents and the nuns told me about though I have even given it plenty of time. I studied English in college and yet can find not even a little interest in my religious readings.”

While she thought in silence for a moment, you didn’t interrupt her. 

When she found the words to verbalise what she’d been meaning to say, she began with a question: “Do you remember when you asked what my own intentions were for myself? On Thursday?”

You nodded. 

“It’s ridiculous, but I can’t even recall the last time I sincerely asked that to myself, but perhaps in shallower terms, such as wondering where I might be in a few years or what I might do with my time in the convent.

“But never what I wanted — never who I wanted to be.”

After a moment, when you were sure she wasn’t trying to find words to express herself nor contemplating whether to say something, you asked, “And do you know who you want to be?”

For a brief moment — half of one, really — Wanda looked thoughtful, and then she said and gestured to her clothing and the prayer room, “Not this.”

“So then, what?” you inquired further. 

You teased, “A vet?”

Wanda giggled and sat back a bit in her seat. “Perhaps if I were ten,” she said. 

Then more seriously, she added, “But now, I’m not very sure.”

“How did you come to realise what you were interested in?” Wanda asked. “For example, your studies. What are you studying?”

She was talking fast, obviously very invested in your conversation together and also rather curious about you. 

You thought that was cute; you liked Wanda. 

“I’m studying philosophy,” you told her to which she straightened and was eager to hear more about. “But with studies, it’s different, because you’re talking about more personal matters. Academics are far different from personal paths.”

Wanda seemed a bit disappointed because she was looking for a definite answer, but what you explained certainly made sense to her. 

She pondered about something then instead asked, “So about personal matters, then. What about those?”

“What about them?”

“Give me a principle to follow,” she sought. “Something I might be able to apply here. Something as general as you’d like it to be, but applicable.”

Her steadily growing smile made it clear that though she was certainly looking for advice, she also thoroughly enjoyed exchanging quips with you and exploring more about you. 

In a way, she was as eager to learn about you than how to help herself, if not more so. 

You hummed thoughtfully and Wanda watched as you were deep in thought. 

“A principle for you,” you said, “could easily be that it’s okay to be selfish, to think only of yourself when you’ve spent so long doing anything else.”

Wanda asked, slightly amused but far more curious, “You recommend hedonism?” 

“To you?”

She nodded. 

You replied, “Indubitably.”

If you hadn’t already been thinking of Wanda in painfully great amounts before that morning, then you certainly were afterwards. 

The third week came around and by then Wanda was banging against every square inch of your skull like an intruder, necessitating the need to be seen and thought of every other minute in any way you could.

Perhaps the relationship you developed with her thus far was one of friendship and nothing more, yet her persistence that never strayed too far from your mind seemed to you that she had become reminiscent of something greater than a platonic figure. 

In any case, you had to muster the ability to ask your dad in the most nonchalant manner you could if it were possible for you attend Sunday’s service. 

You did it in a way that did not make it seem to him that you were about to become a familiar face in the church, but rather that someone had simply happened to ask you for help during the last service and wondered if you might be able to attend the next — which is quite literally what you told him. 

It wasn’t a lie. 

Not even when you said that it was a young woman who was studying to become a novitiate at the convent that was curious about the choir and the other volunteers and had asked you about it last week, because Wanda did truly ask about the choir and the other people who volunteered at the church once. 

But that wasn’t at all the reason why you wanted to attend the service that Sunday. 

“Y/N,” a voice called in a hushed tone when you passed the hallway leading up to the choir stairway where your dad had already walked up towards. 

You slipped away from the people filing into the pews and quickly came to Wanda’s side. 

“Don’t you have places to be aside from fraternising with the guests?” you teased as she took your wrist and led you towards the room you both seemed to like talking in the most. 

“After last week’s ordeal with the book, I’ve been put on some kind of probation from participating in the services so I have more time to study independently,” she told you, not seeming particularly worried.

She added, “On Sundays, the convent is rather empty, so they wouldn’t notice that I’m off not studying. Though I could very well say I chose to study in one of the extra prayer rooms here.”

“And I’m sure they remember how much you love the prayer rooms here,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows at your reference to her having lost the book in one of them. 

Wanda faked a laugh in the driest manner you’d ever heard and you nudged her arm to which she told you to stop joking around with her so she could tell you something important. 

She closed the prayer room door and sat you down beside her. 

From a small bag on the chair to her left, she pulled out a small dictionary. 

Here, you were tempted to make fun of her and ask why she was carrying around a dictionary so tiny, but you recalled that she had wanted to ask you about something serious. 

She flipped open to a page she had bookmarked. 

“Hedonism,” she read aloud. “In philosophy, the belief that pleasure and the absence of pain is the most important principle in determining the morality of an action.”

Wanda looked up at you from the dictionary. “This is what you meant?” she asked. 

You nodded. 

Curiously, you inquired, “Do you agree with it?”

She looked back down to the page in which had written three definitions of hedonism, the third being the one defined by philosophy. 

The first two you could not quite read upside down. 

“I have never heard of it in such detail before the time you mentioned it last week,” she said, running her eyes over the words in contemplation, “but it’s interesting.”

“What would be your first endeavour to pleasure, if you had to make a guess?” you asked her.

Wanda ran over the words of the definition again with her eyes, perhaps still deep in thought about it or absently doing so while she contemplated an answer to your question. 

“My first?” she repeated. 

You looked down at the dictionary page now that she was holding it at a slightly different angle that oriented the letters better for you. 

The first definition read, ‘Pursuit of pleasure.’

And the second — you had to tip your head to the side a bit to decipher it — read, ‘Sensual self-indulgence.’

During your deep concentration, Wanda had come to an answer to your question, and it wasn’t until she leaned forward and kissed your unsuspecting lips that you realised she had even stopped looking at the page. 

It was the uttering of her muffled words against your lips that triggered something deep within you, perhaps equally as restrained as her own. 

An unfinished sentence, but one on its own nonetheless. 

‘I want…’ she had uttered, breathless and with one hand cupping your cheek and feeling with the pads of her fingers the softness of your skin. 

With that, you hastily reached forward and grasped at her ass, lifting her from her seat and stripping her down so she was in nothing but her undergarments. 

The paths of your nails streaked red against her pale skin while you devoured her every step of the way, your lips following every inch of skin that became exposed to you while your hands made quick work of unzipping her dress and unbuttoning her blouse. 

She sighed when you kissed her breasts and squeezed your hands around her waist and hips, taking her selfishly and finally spreading her legs and sitting her down in your lap. 

“Are you…” you began between breaths, pausing to figure out your wording and sitting back in your seat to look at her. “Have you had sex?”

Wanda giggled, finding your question amusing. “Of course I have,” she replied and took your hands and placed them on her hips again. 

“Cocky,” you jested, hooking your thumb under the clasp of her bra and releasing it so it snapped against her back, causing her to arch her body into you with a soft gasp. “Thought you might’ve been abstinent or something.”

“I don’t mean to be cocky,” she said in a low voice. “But I am certainly not abstinent.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Only if you choose to be.”

“I choose to be,” you said with conviction. “So for whom should I be jealous, then?”

“College students.”

You gasped superficially.

“You fuck college students? Exclusively?”

“No!” she laughed. “I mean I haven’t been very active since my time in college.”

“Haven’t had sex since college?”

She corrected, “I didn’t mean that either.”

“So what did you mean?”

“This conversation is like pulling teeth.”

“Why? You want me to fuck you hard against this floor right now, baby?” you asked. The very crudeness of your words, albeit teasing, made Wanda’s breath hitch, and so within that reaction you found her first tell. “No foreplay or anything?”

“This isn’t foreplay?”

“Hardly.”

“Then what is?” she asked though sounding slightly pouty about it. 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re all turned on and impatient from just that. Teasing gets you off?” you pressed. “Didn’t even have to be told how I wanna see your gorgeous ass bruise when I fuck your cunt from behind like you’re my sick little fucktoy whore?”

Her hips twitched. 

“Y/N…” she muttered, perhaps out of impatience or forewarning for how you were teasing her, either way you could not tell and weren’t very rushed in trying to figure it out. 

You pulled her bra down and released one of her breasts, slapping it lightly with your fingers and causing her to gasp before pinching one of her sensitive pink buds. 

There would be no indulging her past what you were willing to indulge; you were careful not to touch her more than what was intentional. 

You bucked your hips up under the guise of adjusting your seating, grinding your stiff cock against the soaking panties which were now beginning to soak your pants. 

Her cunt was sensitive beyond the thin fabric, causing the strap to rub her perfectly through her soft, swollen folds; you could practically hear how sticky she was without even looking. 

“What is that?” she quickly asked, looking down between her thighs. She tried moving back to get a better look, but you quickly held onto her hip with your other hand and pulled her harshly back to her original position, making her throbbing clit rub directly onto your cock. 

A strangled yelp was breathed past her lips. 

“Don’t move unless I tell you to, you understand?” you told her. 

She nodded.

“Everywhere else in this building, there is only one God, but here in this room, I am yours. You will listen to what I tell you and take what I give you, even if it hurts. You’ll be grateful that I make you hurt as much as you will when I give you pleasure.”

In spite of everything, Wanda repressed a tiny smile and said, “You’re scary when you’re authoritative with me.”

You laughed through your nose and replied, “I can get scarier.”

Her smile widened into a grin and Wanda’s hand came to the back of your neck when you leaned forward and kissed her, one arm circling around her waist and carefully slipping her off your lap as you stood from your seat. 

“We’ll get caught,” she voiced concern against your lips.

“Then be the lookout.” 

You made sure she didn’t trip on her way up to the podium, and soon you had her chest laid flat against the lectern and facing the front doors, the shadow of the large crucifix behind the both of you casted against the red carpet from the morning sun shining from behind the stained glass. 

Wanda listened as you unzipped your pants and when she made an attempt to turn her head and look at what you were doing, you put your other hand against her upper back and pressed her back down, reducing her line of sight to your face and shoulder and nothing else. 

Her clothed cunt was prodded at, the stiff tip of your strap finding her hole through her panties and nudging at it teasingly. She groaned impatiently and reached back to take hold of your hand, to grab onto anything and urge you forward.

In response, you spanked her harshly and made Wanda yelp out in surprise and wince.

“You dirty, impatient slut,” you spat.

She immediately whimpered, “I’m sorry, daddy.”

That satisfied something in you that you hadn’t even known you wanted, and you were more than happy to share in that satisfaction.

You hummed and tucked a finger under the waistband of Wanda’s panties, making her twitch impatiently while also doing her best to listen to her orders. Then you laid your hand flat against her lower back, rubbing her supportively and making a warm flush form across her face.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Wanda?” you asked, looking up her bent-over half-naked body to the back of her head.

She nodded.

“Good girl,” she confirmed with a nod.

Gently, you squeezed her ass and danced your fingers up to the waistband of her panties that you finally pulled down, exposing her gorgeous, glistening cunt.

It took just as much resistance from you not to shove your cock right into her as much as it took Wanda to not thrust her hips back and grind her clit against your strap.

“Why don’t you tell me all you’ve been studying about the last little while?” you said, running a hand down her ass and sliding a thumb into her pussy, feeling heaps of pride with the way you slipped inside with no resistance. 

She was incredibly wet and so, so warm.

Distracted by the way your thumb probed shallowly at her hole, giving her just enough pleasure to make her throb but just short of enough to satisfy her entirely, it took Wanda a few moments to regain her focus before she finally asked, “S-Studying? About what?”

“You’re a smart girl, Wanda,” you encouraged, slowly sliding your thumb out and grazing the pad of it lightly over her swollen slit and across the hood of her clit. “Methods on how to be a proper nun. For example, swear yourself to the Lord, abstain from sex, so on and so forth.”

Wanda swallowed and tried her best to focus with the way your thumb began spreading her cunt out, revealing to you the glistening folds of her pussy. She began stuttering and finally squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to be able to recall some of her studies.

“Um, there was…” she uttered and ran her fingers along the edge of the wooden lectern, “living in modesty; not showing off one’s body in any crude manner, not partaking in pleasures of the flesh.”

Three of your fingers began rubbing slow circles against Wanda’s hole, squelching against her dripping cunt and making her tremble and moan shakily.

“And what next?” you asked.

“I-I can’t… Can’t focus…” she told you helplessly.

Your thumb flicked at her clit and Wanda’s body jerked forward. 

“One more,” you urged. “Come on. Give me one more good one and I’ll fuck you with my cock. You want that, don’t you?”

Intentionally, you began to focus on her clit now, having your index finger graze it as your middle and ring finger slowly began delving in and out of her sticky hole, purposefully making it even more difficult for Wanda to find the words for herself.

“I want… I want that,” she shuddered, hanging her head and squeezed her eyes shut again.

“So, then, give me one more.”

Wanda’s breathing deepened as she tried her hardest to focus. 

With every intention to make it more difficult for her, you reached up with your other hand and pulled her bra down, allowing you access to knead her breast and feel her nipple harden against the palm of your hand.

She whimpered into her arm and bit down on her bottom lip.

You stepped forward and removed your fingers from her cunt to rub the length of your strap through her pussy, wet fingers taking hold of its base and running it through her swollen folds.

“A-Ah, Y/N, please…” she mewled, though neither of you were quite sure whether she was begging for you to stop and allow her to think thoroughly or for you to have mercy on her completely and just fuck her.

“One more,” you reiterated and aligned the tip of your cock with her entrance. 

You placed both hands on her hips and began pulling her backwards, fucking her shallowly and watching her pussy take your cock with just as much anticipation as Wanda was struggling to withhold.

She hugged around you beautifully and it was truly only the tip; you couldn’t wait another moment to fuck her until she was begging for you to fuck her until it hurt.

“A-Another,” she finally trembled out, “is to be, by nature, a woman of submission, to worship your God and seek no amount of personal domination over–”

Fully satisfied with her answer and terribly impatient yourself, your fingernails dug into Wanda’s hips and you jerked her ass back against you, forcing her to take your entire cock in one swift movement.

She cried out and you wrapped a hand around her waist, running your nails down her side and feeling an inexplicable need to mark her, to cause her pain, to reduce her to a whimpering trembling, bruised mess so cock-drunk that all she’d feel for the next three days is the aftermath of being rough-fucked like a slut.

“Hit me, please, daddy,” she begged, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the lectern and arching her back.

So you did — repeatedly. 

You spanked Wanda over and over, having the sound of your palm meeting her ass echo through the room and only reiterating to the both of you how she was much less of a nun or a student or any reflection of purity, but a braindead nympho whore good for nothing but getting her pussy fucked raw.

She was a loud fuck, crying out in whimpers and moans and other strings of partially-comprehensible words telling you how good your cock felt and how much she loved getting fucked by you.

The playing organs and belting choir playing during the service muffled Wanda out, but Jesus Christ, if any of them out there had been able to hear her getting fucked down the hallway, they might just think for a moment that it was the calling of an angel or at least something in some way divine.

But none of them would ever know what it looked like to fuck Wanda from behind, pulling her up with their hand around her neck so you had access to slap her face and spit into her mouth like you could, pinching her clit and fucking her through to her third orgasm.

How beautiful she looked, sweaty and a mess with her long brown hair fanned out and stuck in strands against her back, crying out in equal parts pain and pleasure and finding herself incredibly pleased by being used like a filthy object.

And you’d make sure no one else could get the chance to see the sight but you.

“I’m gonna come again, Y/N,” she cried, breasts pressed against the cold wood of the lectern and arms pressed against her back. “This is my last, please, I can’t take anymore.”

You let go of her wrists and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her from the lectern. She was arched at a slight angle so your arm could assist in continuing to fuck her, but she was now much closer, and she was now able to loll her head back against your shoulder.

“This is the closest thing a slut like you will ever get to heaven, angel,” you told her, kissing her temple. “Make your God proud and come on my cock, filthy bitch.”

Wanda reached back and held onto you for support while her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting as a silent cry escaped her, her third and final orgasm coming over her without mercy.

You squeezed at her breast and leaned your head down and bit at her shoulder and up the back of her neck, getting in as many markings of your ownership as you could.

She sighed out and uttered your name, to which you ran your hands up her stomach, one hand moving up to her face and gently tilting her head over so you could kiss her lips.

Her knees buckled out and you carefully set her down on the floor before sitting down beside her. Wanda panted heavily into your chest, one hand on your knee and the other arm wrapped around your shoulder. 

You had your arms around her waist, rubbing her back supportively and whispering in her ear words upon words of how beautiful she looked, how good she’d been for you, then soon confessing how much you’d been thinking of her over the last few weeks, how much of your mind she occupied and how much of your time you spent thinking of her.

Wanda liked hearing that last part most, but she particularly enjoyed when you told her how it felt to masturbate to her, to imagine her looking up at you and choking on your cock at your final point of release, and how really being with her was plenty more enjoyable and, quite frankly, more beautiful than you ever could’ve fantasised about on your own. 

The both of you were on your knees, sweaty with the labour of sex and kneeling in each other’s arms at the foot of the towering crucifix, whispering and giggling to each other all the equally sweet and dirty confessions you could exchange before the service was over.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen #heliumknife

[dyaz-stories]

a house, not a home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings & tags: canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, hyun-su needs a hug, unresolved tension, mentions of blood

a/n: okay so, for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman though if people are interested i could definitely write that 👀 I hope you'll like it! Please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like me to write more, and consider reblogging!

next part

The hardest thing to get used to, after what others called the Monsterization Outbreak but you labelled, more simply, the Apocalypse, was the silence. You were the type of person to always have music playing, back when you were a high schooler studying hard to get into your college of choice. Now, music was wasted electricity and, worse, could be a death sentence if anyone — anything — heard it play, or if it dulled your senses and got you killed.

At the beginning, there had been lots of sounds. Screams. Cars colliding. Stores’ alarms, blaring when the looters broke in. Sobs. In your house, for a while, there had been your father, humming quietly as he worked.

Then he’d gotten a nosebleed, left the house, and never returned.

Now it was just you, and you’d learned not to make a sound. So when there’s a knock on your door, it echoes through the rooms and rattles you to your core. For a second, you clench your trusty baseball bat. You took hours and cut your fingers planting nails into it, but it’s worth it, if only for the feeling of confidence it gives you. Truth is, you rarely had to use it. Your strategy relies on avoiding confrontation at all costs.

You release it when you realize that there are very few people who can come knocking at your door.

After all, monsters don’t knock.

You rush to the door without letting go of the bat. Your habits are ingrained in you well enough that you still check the peephole — and when you do, your heart somersaults in your chest.

You keep the hinges well-oiled and the door doesn’t make a sound when you open it.

“Come in,” you whisper, not daring to break the silence with actual words.

Cha Hyun-Su stares at you, looks like he hesitates. He always does, looks like he wants to give you a chance to slam the door back in his face. He’s covered in blood now — ‘not mine’, you know he’d say if you asked —, clutching his wrist, lips chapped, eyes hollow.

“Come on,” you say again, and this time he does, walking by you without a word. Then he goes still once more, there in your entrance, while you close the door behind him. He always does that, until you give him explicit permission.

“Are you okay?” you ask when you turn around, hands reaching for his arms, his torso, trying to check on him, though you cannot see whether or not he is hurt.

“I’m fine,” he replies with that deep voice of his, catching your wrists before you can feel for yourself. “It’s not my blood.”

It never is.

“But are you hurt?” you press, still.

He frowns, and confusion sparks in his eyes.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

You shake your head.

“No, I mean— Does it hurt? Does anything hurt?”

Hyun-Su’s lips part. He closes his eyes. His body sways towards yours, and you freeze. You feel his breath against your cheek, and his grip on your wrist becomes lighter— a caress, at most. You just stay there, not wanting to scare him away, but not wanting to leave him to himself either. You feel a pull towards him, the urge to wrap your arms around him, and you resist it, knowing that he’d flee.

Finally, he snaps out of it, lets go of you, takes a step back.

“I’m fine,” he repeats for a third time.

You don’t push it.

“Do you want to take a bath?”

Clean water isn’t easy to come by these days. Fortunately for you, you have a complex system designed to retain rain water as well as morning dew, put in place by your father, when he was still around. It’s rained recently, and with the help of solar panels you’d stolen with him what feels like a lifetime ago, you’ll be able to have hot water. Showers, you haven’t mastered — though you’re sure your dad would have figured it out by now — but you can at least offer him a warm bath.

Hyun-Su’s eyes are on you, wide and focused.

They’re ever so slightly warmer than they were when he came in.

“I would like that.”

Hyun-Su comes out of the bathroom some thirty minutes later, clean and looking more like himself. He’s wearing clothes he’d left there on one of his other visits, which you’d washed by hand among some of your stuff.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice firmer than it had been earlier.

“It’s not a problem,” you reply, and you have to stop yourself from grimacing at how fake your nonchalance sounds to your ears.

If he notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Have you been okay here?” he asks instead.

You bite the inside of your cheek. The answer is complicated. You’ve been safe, physically that is. You have barely caught sight of a monster since he’s last been here — nine days ago. You can’t say you’re bored, either. There’s always things to do, to fix, to figure out around here.

What you are, is alone.

And, though you don’t want to admit it, lonely.

It might be the kind of answer he’s looking for, yet you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. It’s not even that you don’t want him to know.

It’s that you’re scared that if you did, if you asked him to stay or to take you with him, he would still leave you behind.

“I make do,” you reply, which at least isn’t a lie. “I keep myself busy.”

It’s your turn to freeze when Hyun-Su leans forward, trying to meet your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

A smile escapes you at his cautious tone as he repeats your words at you. You look up, and there he is, inches away from your face, checking on you in the very same way you’d checked on him when he’d arrived — now that he’s had the time and space to collect himself. For half a second, the corner of his lips lifts clumsily to form a smile in response to yours, and then it’s gone, as he, too, realizes how close he is.

You see him sucking in a breath, then swallowing, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Your heart beats so loud in your ears, you can’t even hear the silence anymore.

“I’m not hurt,” you say, and it is true for now, at least.

Hyun-Su nods without moving away. There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’re not used to, a spark, a craving.

His eyes drop to your lips.

Your whole body is tingling with anticipation, yet you don’t move, no matter how badly you want to close the gap between you. You can’t rush him. You’d never forgive yourself, if he didn’t come back.

He leans forward, just by an inch, then closer again, so close and—

He turns his head at the last moment, late enough that his cheek brushes against yours, before he pulls himself back.

That hurts. It makes your heart ache more than you’ve let yourself hurt in forever.

“Sorry,” Hyun-Su mumbles, stumbling back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re not sure if he’s apologizing for trying to kiss you, or for not doing it.

“I’ve brought you food,” he says in a rush, picking up his backpack by the entrance door.

You watch him as he does, and you can’t help but note the many wounds on his body. Most of them are half-closed, and you know that they’ll be gone by the next time he comes back, but that new ones will have had the time to open and heal halfway.

He hands you his offering of food, without meeting your eyes this time, and you take it from him. Your fingers brush against him, and he moves his hand away like you’ve just burned him.

“It’s late,” you say, your voice quiet even to your own ears, even now that you’re so accustomed to the lack of noise. You don’t want him to go, not just yet. “You should sleep here.”

But, just like you expected, Hyun-Su shakes his head and closes his backpack with shaky hands.

“I need to go,” he says. Then, when you don’t answer — can he tell you’re fighting back tears? —, he adds “I’ll come back. I promise.”

You nod. It’s your turn to avoid his eyes.

“I’ll be waiting,” you say.

You open the door for him, and you force yourself to look at him as he steps back outside, into the unknown, into the danger, and away from you.

He looks back, right before disappearing in the night.

“Stay safe,” you say, though you know he won’t.

“You too,” he says, knowing you will.

And then he’s gone, and you’re alone with the silence again.

next part

#hyunsu x reader #cha hyun su x reader #sweet home #sweet home netflix #cha hyun su #sweet home x reader #sweet home season 2 #hyun su x reader #cha hyunsoo #cha hyunsoo x reader #hyunsoo x reader

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [5/...]

“Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, I'll be there on their side. I'm losing by their side.”

— Mitski, "Bet On Losing Dogs"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. 

It's been a few weeks since the events in Orange Town, and Luffy notices something that others do not. So, he decides to ask you.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, No (fully bodied) Buggy this chapter, Luffy being the precious cinnamon we all love and must protect above all else, flashbacks about Shanks, past discussions, Luffy and Reader have a heart-to-heart.

A/N: I was initially going to write them going to the Baratie this chapter, but it became too long so next one for sho.

Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk, @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

You're sitting by the table in Party's bar, nursing a cold glass of rum against your cracked lips as you observe to the kid - Luffy - demonstrating his newfound Devil Fruit powers without any regard for poor Makino's furniture. 

You don't get him, at all. Then again, you don’t get kids. 

You've never thought of yourself as someone who easily got along with them ... or people in general. Shanks has always been the better-suited one for that kind of work. Whereas he is smiling and grinning at the kid’s mischief, you've barely offered him more than a glance at most.

Your crew has been positioned in Foosha village for the better part of the month, stacking up on resources and food in preparation for your next job. Incidentally, the Red-Haired Pirates also happened to be in town for similar excursions. You rarely see Shanks nowadays since you parted ways several years ago, but whenever you happen to come across one another, you share a drink on his tab.

While your crew is around and about, replenishing their strength and vigor for the work to come, you're content with just sitting here at your leisure. When you're not plundering or fighting or attacking Marine bases, you can't find it in yourself to do much of anything anymore. 

Nothing adds any purpose to your life save for what keeps you fed and clothed, which in the life of a pirate, simply means pirating.

"I've heard you had good fortune on your latest heist," Shanks says from where he's sitting opposite of you. "For your efforts, the Marines have granted you among the highest bounties in all of the East-Blue."

You hum noncommittally in response, not offering much to the conversation in terms of merriment. "The quality of the Marines has been in decline. It says more about their effort, or lack thereof, than mine."

"Do you know what they call you nowadays?"

"They call me a lot of names, you got to be more specific."

"'Cross-Hairs, the Beast of the East'. It's got a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

"Sure."

Shanks smiles the kind way he always does. Always has done.

"Gum-Gum Pistol!" 

The sound of yet another chair breaking has you rolling your eyes without even looking, and poor Makino ages ten years in seconds across the bar counter. 

"Luffy!"

"Sorry!"

Shanks laughs heartedly at the display, only to cut it short upon noticing Makino's even glare sent his way from across the bar. 

"You were careless," you state matter-of-factly and take another gulp from your drink. "You should've kept the fruit hidden more securely."

"Now, in my defense, I didn't think the lad would searching through my loot."

"Well, you should've." You slam your glass down, strong enough to leave a dent in the wooden surface. "What kind of captain leaves his loot undefended and unsupervised? Especially when it contains a Devil Fruit?"

Shanks doesn't argue with your statement and settles with taking a gulp of his own drink, letting your words simmer in his head. "You're right, I should've been more observant. Now, it'll be more difficult for him to achieve his dream."

"His dream? Of what? Becoming the King of the Pirates?" Try as you might, there's no suppressing the snort that escapes through your nose. "There's only ever been one King, and we all saw what happened to him. What do you think is going to happen to a kid who can't even swim?"

"Oh, come off it!" He gives you a playful nudge to the rib, which you reciprocate with a glare. He remains undeterred. "You mean to tell me you've never thought about finding the One Piece? Not even once?"

"I have no interest in whatever plunder Gol D. left behind." 

"Then, what does interest you?" He rests his elbow on the edge of the table and leans over to your side. "What is your dream?"

You grit your teeth under your lips, a flash of blue circulating in your head. "Dreams are for fools and children," you point your head to where Luffy is currently sitting, trying to put the chair back together with a half-empty tube of glue and little luck. 

"Come on, I know you better than that. Surely there's something in this world you want more than anything?"

"What I want is ..." You have half a mind to tell him the truth, whereas the other half wants to push the idea further down to the bottom of your chest. "Is another bottle of rum."

You raise your arm to Makino to gesture for another one, but Shanks is quick to lower it with a gentle shove of his arm. You flash him a scowl and brush off his hand, but unlike your crew or anyone else, he's not afraid.

"The point which I'm trying to make before you're completely pissed," he starts. "Is that no matter how much opposition one faces, it's that dreams are never out of reach if you have the will to reach for them."

He inclines his head over your shoulder, and you turn around to see Luffy successfully putting the chair back together. You don't know how he did it - it looked pretty busted minutes ago - but there it is, wholly intact.

And when the boy smiles, it's so vibrant and full of joy that it's almost blinding. He proudly runs over and shows the repaired chair to Makino, who proceeds to pat his head and hand him a plate of food.

"See?" Shanks grins. "Nothing is impossible."

"You can hardly consider putting a chair back together the same as achieving an impossible goal."

He shrugs. "Maybe not, but you won't know unless you try. All it takes is a little spirit."

You watch Shanks for a couple of minutes in silence, processing his mythic words, then shift your attention over to Luffy who's preoccupied with shoving an unholy amount of food into his mouth. If this is to become the future King of the Pirates one day, then it'll be an interesting future indeed.

"A little spirit, huh?" 

— — —

You're sad.

Luffy first notices it when you leave Orange Town, and it lingers throughout your voyage. 

For as long as he's known you, you've always been a person of relatively few words; never speaking unless you feel the situation requires it, and only acting when necessary. Even following the Kuro situation™, getting the Going Merry, and adding Usopp to his crew, he can tell that you're not all there anymore.

Not to be mistaken, you're not conspicuous with the way you behave. You still act like usual, talk like usual, however little, and commit yourself to your work on the ship, almost to an excessive extent. 

All in all, nothing’s changed about you. However, he’s gotten used to your face and general lack of expression most of the time, and though it doesn't seem to alter, he still catches onto the fact that you're sad. 

"Hey," he asks the group and props himself in the kitchen, legs crossed atop his seat. "Do you think she's any different?"

"Who? Your friend?" Nami asks, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, I think she's sad."

"Doesn't look any different to me," Zoro supplies while polishing his swords on the table. 

Usopp's in the middle of munching a piece of loaf, and answers with his mouth still halfway occupied. "Dunno how she usually is, but she's kinda terrifying if you ask me."

"No, she's not," Luffy dismisses lightly. 

"What's her position on the ship, anyhow? How'd you come across her?"

"She's always been with me," Luffy answers without any thought. "And she’s a good fighter.”

Zoro — to everyone’s surprise — nods his head to this in concurrence.

Their Captain claps his hands together to get the subject back on track. "But anyway, I just think she seems kind of down now."

"How can you even tell? With eyes like these, —” Usopp puts both of his index fingers at the crow’s feet of his eyes and draws them back to imitate yours. It’s borderline shameful, truth be told. “— I can’t tell for shit what she’s feeling or thinking.”

“I just can.” Luffy shrugs.

“Has she said anything?” Nami asks. “Anything to make you ask?”

“No, not really.” He heaves a sigh and props his hand under his chin, contemplating. “But she's been different since we left Orange Town.”

"If you ask me," Zoro speaks up. "You should ask her about her relationship with that fucking clown."

"Who? Boogie?"

"Buggy," Nami corrects. "Didn't you notice that at the end? They have a history, it's obvious. They know each other, and I don't know what pirate customs are like nowadays, but I doubt you'd touch the face of an enemy unless there was something going on. Has she said anything about it?"

Luffy shakes his head. “No... but then again, she never does tell me much about anything unless I ask.”

The tangerine-haired girl blinks as if the answer to this whole predicament is obvious. She quickly comes to realize that, to Luffy, it’s not.

“So…” she prompts slowly.

“So…?”

She rolls her eyes at his inability to catch her drift. “Go ask her.”

It’s like the thought never even crossed Luffy’s mind in the first place because truth be told, it hasn’t. He lights up like a candlestick on the spot. “Yeah, I should just ask her!”

“Ask me what?”

The members of the Straw Hat pirates (save for Zoro) withdraw in various unique positions, having not heard you make your entrance before you speak. 

You’re standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyebrow slightly quirked at the Baroque-esque scene in front of you. Deciding not to address the display, you simply ask, “Anything I should know about, Captain Luffy?”

Usopp doesn’t even dare to answer, because he knows you sure as hell don’t see him as a captain in general, much less your captain. He swears he notices you briefly look in his direction at the mention of the title, and a shiver runs across his skin. Like static electricity in the air.

“Oh, yeah,” Luffy turns to you, not an ounce of fear in his eyes as he pops the question. “Are you sad?”

You blink once, then twice, like the inquiry on its own is of unfathomable origins to you. “Do I look sad?”

The boy in the straw hat nods. “I think you do.”

“Then I’m not.” It’s not only an answer, but also a sentence that marks this subject as finished on your part. One that does not permit any subsequent additions.

You incline your head to the deck above. “We’re going to have company soon, likely Marines, and they seem to be in supply of heavy fire this time.”

———

The situation with the aforementioned opponents temporarily distracts the crew, yet Luffy maintains a close eye on you, taking note of anything that can point him to the source of the unknown problem. You talk relatively little with the other crew members, but you seem to have developed an amicable enough relationship with them compared to when you first met. 

Before, you could care less about getting to know them. Now, you’re actively going out of your way to ask Nami about her cartographic skills, even giving her tips for additions to her geographical detailing. You provide Zoro pointers on self-developed defensive techniques and ways to paralyze opponents in certain spots (which he seems appreciative of).

You even give Usopp a short nod when he tells you one of his fantastical stories, even knowing that they’re full of shit.

Luffy’s happy, but he still sees that you are not.

It’s all in your eyes. They’re hollow somehow, like the end of a barrel. He doesn’t know how he knows, only that he knows, and he’s known for a good while now.

So, that night, Luffy finds you in the kitchen by the windows, absentmindedly snacking on a red apple while you gaze into the dark nothingness outside. He also discovers that he’s subconsciously become quite observant of your habits as of late. 

For example, you specifically pick red apples above any other color when they happen to dock someplace, not even paying any mind to the green or yellow ones. Just the red ones.

“Hey,” he positions himself next to you on the bench, a piece of loaf tight in his hand. “Why are you sad?”

You turn your head just a fraction to the side to look at him, not annoyed, but not appreciative of the focus he’s settled on as of late. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? The Vice-Admiral looks a little weary as of late, after all. Are you sad about it?"

"Nope."

“So why do you insist that I’m sad?”

“Because you are,” he states like it’s obvious.

You huff humorously and return your attention to the window that supplies no real view. “How can you tell?”

“I just can.” He takes a generous bite of his food and continues talking, oblivious to the crumbles that fall while doing so. “When I’m sad, I—”

“Eat?”

“Well, yeah.” He swallows the bite down. “But I also like to talk about it with someone I trust. Shanks used to say that true friends are the kind of people you can share your heart with and not get hurt.”

This annoys you, that much he can tell. A nail digs into the apple you’re holding, leaving a crescent-shaped indent on the red skin. “Shanks said many things, and not all of it's true.”

This doesn’t deter him from pressing on the matter. “If you keep all the hurt inside, it’s going to turn bad. You know, Makino said that if you leave a piece of ham in the fridge too long, it’ll get sour and people can’t eat it.”

“Only you could find a way to compare this sort of thing to food.” You withdraw your finger from the apple and end up leaving it alone altogether. A minute or ten of silence waves between you, laced with unspoken questions and denied answers. “Tell me, Luffy, just how much did Shanks tell you about his past?”

He thinks for a moment, mimicking your movements by putting his loaf aside. “Just about his adventures with the Red-Haired Pirates, and a little about the time you served with him. Is it true you were strong enough to throw a three-hundred-pound man to the ground when you were thirteen?”

He swears it’s a snort that he catches leaving your throat, but it’s hard to differentiate it from your more-than-usual scoffs. “He exaggerated.”

“Really?”

“The man was two-fifty, at most.”

Luffy grins with genuine admiration, so much so that your face tilts back slightly, being overwhelmed by the mere brightness that is him. “Wow! You must’ve been quite a beast when you were a kid!”

He notices it again, the sadness that latches onto your eyes like insects to sour meat. Whatever brief smile adorned your lips moments ago disappears like it was never there at all. Thinking he said something wrong, Luffy prepares to apologize when you speak again.

Your voice is soft yet faint like you’re afraid speaking too loudly will make something bad happen. “It wasn’t just me and Shanks, back then, you know.”

The Captain of the Straw Hats thinks it’s almost unnatural of you to be this demure, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“Buggy was there, too. It was the three of us, together.”

“Oh, yeah.” He remembers it now. “He did mention that in Orange Town. You served the same crew.”

“… He did, did he?”

“He said you and Shanks betrayed him, but I didn’t believe him.” Luffy knows you and has known you for longer than he’s known a lot of people in his life. You’re one of the few permanent people he’s had, and he knows with a certainty that you’re not the kind of person who leaves anyone behind, not without reason. 

Even if you did have a reason for leaving Buggy, it must have been a good one.

Your mouth opens and shuts several times in the span of a minute like you’re hesitating to talk about the past. You’ve never been one to talk about it, except to share some details about your time as captain, and even that was limited to the bare minimum.

Still, Luffy, being in no hurry for you to reach an answer, waits patiently by your side until you do decide to talk about it.

Talk about what he believes is the reason for your sadness.

“We were close back in the days,” you begin slowly. “Me, him, and Shanks. It was us against the rest of the world, and we were going to sail together to the end of the seas one day. It was our dream.”

“Then, what happened?”

You put your palm over both your eyes and rest your elbow on the window frame, heaving a sigh that resembles someone who’s spent too much of their life working and working and working without catching any breaks. Pure, simple exhaustion weighs you down, Luffy can tell. 

When you speak next, you sound tired too, and perhaps a little strained. He can’t see your eyes, and so, he can’t truthfully tell what you’re thinking now. “The thing is, I don’t know what happened. All I know is that he decided he didn’t want to stick around.” You breathe through your nostrils. “Our captain was gone, and so was the crew, but we three were still together, and I thought we were going to stay together.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No … We didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but one day when I was talking with Shanks about what to do next, Buggy came in, and it … He looked at me like … Like he hated me.” You exhale. “He did hate me, and I don’t know what it was I did, but he practically told me that we were done … And then he left. I never saw him again, up until Orange Town.”

Luffy doesn’t require your eyes this time to tell that you’re sad now because you are. You’re so sad that it’s destroying you from the inside, and even that is an understatement on its own. There are no tears trickling down your cheeks, no quivers or thickness to your voice, no nothing to base his assumptions on, but he knows.

He stays silent for a short while, doing nothing but look at you. You’re one of the strongest people he knows. He’s seen you fight; seen the strength you possess, the fire in your eyes. You’ve stayed with him ever since Shanks left Foosha Village, you’ve looked after him from the sidelines when you thought no one was watching. 

You’ve been with him throughout everything, and seeing you like this makes him feel blue on your behalf. You don’t express it yourself – you never do. You carry your weight with the same kind of strength you always do, never letting anyone see you beyond just that, and sometimes, he wonders if you’re lonely because of it. 

At least, now he knows why you’re so sad. You’re heartbroken.

He’s never been acquainted with the feeling himself, has never felt any particular inclination toward it, but he can tell it’s your heart that’s hurting now, and it’s not as easy to heal as that cuts he received on his chest from the butler.

His hat seems to itch the harder he thinks about it, as if there’s something digging at his scalp through his hat. He thought Nami patched it up for him. He tries to scratch at it, but for some reason, it doesn’t cease. Maybe he’s got lice? 

He ignores it. “It’s weird. Bunky seems to think you were the one who left him for Shanks.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know. You’re not that kind of person.” He says it so easily, without a smidgen of doubt or hesitation. You look at him through your peripheral vision, and your eyes slightly widen at his statement. “But, do you know what happened between them? Shanks and Bonky, I mean?”

“No, I don’t.” You admit with a shake of your head. You’ve tried to figure it out for years, and at some point, you decided to give up. “Shanks never told me, but whatever it was, it was enough for the stupid clown to leave for… He chose a childish rivalry over me.”

“Then, there you have it. It’s all just a big misunderstanding, so why don’t you just tell him if you meet him again?”

“You seem awfully defensive of the guy who destroyed an entire village and almost drowned you.”

“Yeah, but talking about him seems to make you happy.”

You freeze for a bit, snort, and turn your back to the window frame, leaning back and crossing your arms across your chest in silent resignation. “I tried to explain things to him back in Orange Town, and a fat load of good that did. Like I said, he hates me, and he’s sure as hell not my favorite person at the moment. If we do meet again, it likely won’t end any better than it back in Orange Town.”

“You know, –” Luffy takes another bite of his bread. “It didn’t sound like he hated you.”

“Hmm?” You raise an eyebrow, halfway curious and halfway skeptical. 

“He still remembers that you like red apples and that you hide knives in your shoes. Is that true?”

You raise both your eyebrows and look at Luffy like he’s just grown a second head. Without a word, you pull your left foot up until it rests on the bench, and withdraw not one or two knives, but four. Small and subtle, hardly enough to turn any heads, but in a flash, you throw it across the kitchen until it lands on a specific spot on the opposite wall. 

Bull’s eye.

“We used to have knife-throwing competitions,” you reminisce idly, staring at the knife lodged deep into the wall. “I was good, but Buggy was better.” Your lip tilts up an inch or two. “We made bets, and whoever lost would have to steal a bottle of whatever liquor we happened to find in the next town we docked at.”

“Oh?”

“I ended up snatching quite a lot of bottles, but once every blue moon, he would have to snatch one instead.” You smile. It’s an actual, genuine, honest smile this time, and Luffy can’t help but marvel at the sight. It’s a rare thing for you to smile like you’re doing now. It’s usually brief or sarcastic and never seems to reach your eyes. 

This one does.

He thinks you look pretty when you smile. It’s your smile, and it’s so warm that he wishes you could do it more often. He tells you as much, and a red color falls over your cheek. You promptly turn your face to the other side to save face, and it makes Luffy think.

When he thinks about his dream of becoming King of the Pirates, he can’t stop himself from smiling ear to ear. So, that begs the question: “What is your dream?” 

What makes you smile?

“My dream …” You reach for your apple and hold it against your face, the uneaten side of it shining against your face. “Is unattainable.

“I don’t think it is,” Luffy says without missing a beat and takes your hand in his, determined to make you see that. “I think that no matter how much stands against us, dreams are never impossible if you have the will to reach for them. All it takes is a little spirit.”

He doesn’t know where those words come from, but he’s heard them from someplace, and judging by your staggered reaction, you’ve heard them too. 

“A little spirit, huh?”

“Exactly! So, please tell me, what’s your dream?”

You look straight ahead into the room, resting your elbows back on the window frame without a word. He thinks you’re about to decline his question or ignore it altogether. However, he’s surprised to hear you actually answer this time, truthfully too.

“My dream was to sail the seas with him again.”

Suddenly, the itchiness on his head stops, and it stays that way.

#buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #buggy x female reader #one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #straw hat pirates #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks

[mayullla]

Hello hello, good day/evening to you, hope ur week has been fine!

May I request (if its still open?) Yan!Baizhu with fem reader? It's rare to see someone write for him after all 🦋🌷 thank you

Title: Gold Rings

Character(s): Baizhu (Genshin Impact) Summary: You didn't remember your fiance after you fell from the cliff and were rescued but he continued to stay by your side as your doctor. Warnings/tags: Yandere Baizhu x amnesia fem!reader, manipulation, 2k word count

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

You stared at the ceiling, made of brown wood, but found nothing interesting. Awake with nothing to do, you could not help but raise your left hand at the ceiling, reaching for something that wasn't there.

You weren't sure what you were reaching for.

But all you could do was stare at the ring on your finger. A thin gold band reflected the sunset light from the window.

You remember nothing. Nothing at all.

You were still healing; your body ached in pain if you moved too suddenly, even when most of it was somewhat healed. It was hard to stay still, frustrating as you tried to remember the past, as if you were trying to reach the fringes of the past yet barely able to touch it.

"You should rest, my dear." You almost jumped, startled at the calm yet disappointed voice. It wasn't loud, but after staying in the room alone for a long time, your ears were sensitive to his voice. "I brought you some food. Have you slept well?" the voice asked.

You recognized that voice somewhat, not as a voice that you heard in the past that you could not remember, but it was the first voice you heard after waking up in this room. Dropping your hand to the side of the mattress, you pushed yourself up slowly with his help. Sudden movements made you dizzy, which you had to learn the hard way. Looking up again, you looked into his golden eyes, slit pupils. His eyes almost reminded you of that of a snake.

"Y-yes," you told him, nodding your head slowly, which prompted a smile on his lips and a crinkle in his eyes. "Ah, that is good. A good rest is always needed when you are sick," he told you as he took the stool that was beside your bed and took a seat on it, placing the food tray on his lap. You had to think for a moment... What was his name..? He had told you before, but it had escaped your mind for a moment as you blinked owlishly at him.

“Hmmm?” He looked at you, tilting his head as if wondering why you were staring at him like that.

Baizhu.

Baizhu... you thought to yourself, a hidden delight that you were able to remember his name when you didn't remember much else. He... he was your doctor.

And the man to whom you were engaged.

He was the first person you saw when you opened your eyes, right beside you, sleeping on the chair with his head on top of his crossed arms on top of the bed. You saw the dark circles under his eyes and his pitiful state. Yet your awkward movements caused him to get up, his eyes wide like saucers as he held your hand, crying and pained.

You didn't remember much after that, forced to go back to sleep still too tired. But you remembered the shock and pain in his eyes when he saw the confusion in your eyes as you looked at him. The question of who he was looked like you had shattered him greatly, yet he kept up the act of someone strong. Asking you questions like your name and who you were, most of which you were able to answer. He asked you if you knew how you ended up here, but you didn't remember that.

He tried to be as gentle as possible with the news. Amnesia. You were out and about collecting herbs in horrible weather in the high cliffs of Liyue, where you had a slip and fell, tumbling down a small cliff. Thankfully, you were just smart enough not to head to the steep cliffs, for if you fell from the high mountains, you would have probably died.

Baizhu was kind... too kind, in fact, you thought to yourself, feeling nothing more than a stranger. You didn't understand his kindness when there were no memories to back up the overly kind gestures. Most doctors would not go to this point, to be fair, kind... They didn't try to see their patients almost every hour, every day.

But you also felt guilty.

Because even though you didn't understand the reason, there was a reason why he acted like this. You still remember the pain in his eyes when he realized that you didn't remember the time spent with him, his love, or your own love towards him. He barely covered up all his pain with a smile and his glasses, with the snake around his neck observing him as you looked at him with guilt.

You lived alone in the harbor of Liyue, having moved here and stayed for a long while now. Baizhu told you that you worked for him, with Qiqi collecting herbs and medicinal flowers for ingredients for medicines and remedies. Baizhu said that you were a hard-working person and that sometimes you would help at the pharmacy too.

"I could make some time and head to your home again today. I tried to look for your diary, but even when I looked everywhere, I wasn't able to find it," Baizhu said with a sorrowful expression. You had asked him to send someone to fetch your diary so that you could see your own past that you had written.

However, it was not found.

You shook your head, telling Baizhu that it was okay. Maybe the diary was with you when you were up in the mountains, as you sometimes took it with you outside. Baizhu looked heartbroken, unable to look at you in the eyes, as the proof that you and he were lovers, other than the rings, was gone. The snake that was wrapped around his neck was not there to cover up the awkward silence between the two of you.

You felt guilty that you didn't remember, unable to remember something that was almost like it didn't happen. Looking at his hand, a ring shined under the light from the candlestick. The sun was setting, and before it got too dark, Baizhu had lit the candle. A simple band, yet the same color as yours. You wondered what your relationship with him was like, how much you showed it outside to the public and inside, how long you had feelings for him, or who confessed first. You do not remember even one thing. Reaching out, you placed your hand on top of his, smiling at him.

You wondered if you should trust him. It would be awkward if not hard to start everything again, but if your relationship with him was real, then you thought that it would not be hard to bring those feelings back again. You remembered the people who visited you, Qiqi, who you remembered was a zombie and had a hard time remembering, talked to you in a way that showed she knew you. She would often hand you some flowers that she picked at the mountain, hoping that you would get well soon. Clearly, that was enough to tell you that you were at the pharmacy often or had multiple trips to the mountain with her collecting herbs.

Not only that, the people who knew you also visited, some friends who stayed by your side. While a little awkward at first, having a hard time sinking in the fact that their friend may not be remembered, many of the memories spent together, while some others were more mature about it and tried to help you whenever they could. They all said the same thing, though, that you were a private person when it came to love, but they were also not surprised by the ring on your hand. Some said that they noticed it before the accident but didn't have the time to comment on it before, as you looked very busy to stop and have a chat about it back then.

They didn't look all that surprised when you told them that Baizhu was your fiancé, as he had told them a little while ago before coming here. They also thought that it was highly likely that it was him of all people. They had seen you two together multiple times before, after all, though not announced as a couple, there was certainly chemistry there, one of them commented.

When you were finally able to go out, many regulars who had to visit the pharmacy often greeted you in surprise when they finally saw you. They had heard of what happened and could only feel sorry as they asked if you were alright. It was there too that people talked about you and Baizhu being together. "It was horrible that such a thing had happened to such a lovely couple," an old grandmother commented. When you asked them to go into more detail, the granny and older ladies all told you in enthusiasm of how cute the two of you were while they watched from the side waiting for their medication.

It was hard to believe, yet the more people talked, the easier it became to believe that you and him were lovers. Your engagement was recent, and you didn't have enough time to tell others about it before the incident.

Baizhu watched as you talked to the elderly who told you many stories of what they saw between you and Baizhu as you listened to them, hesitantly wondering if this was the truth or not. Other than the engagement rings, it must have been difficult to believe that you and him were lovers with hardly enough physical proof. All you had to go with was him and the people's words.

How splendidly did this work in his favor.

You see, you were never his to begin with. You had a lover who lived deep in the mountains, whom you would visit often on your trips. You kept it a secret from everyone. The only reason why he knew when it would have been difficult for him to follow you up high mountains was Qiqi.

Qiqi, after all, was very fond of you and more often than not tried her best to remember moments by writing them in her diary to keep. It wasn't him looking at the small girl's diary that he knew that, but more so a slip of the tongue of some sort. Whenever it was the two of you who went on a trip, Qiqi always came back telling that she had remembered someone talking to you often, also helping her get to flowers that were a little difficult to grab easily due to her height.

It seemed that you had started to take an interest in another man. Baizhu wasn't happy, annoyed more than anything that you had fallen for someone else. Changsheng mocked him for his frustrations, but was startled by his irritated demeanor. It wasn't supposed to show, and most didn't notice, but he supposed those who knew him knew that he was in a very bad mood right now and learned to avoid him unless it was something very important.

Yet before he could do anything drastic, it seemed that the archons had done everything for him instead. You just had to go to him in this heavy storm and hurt yourself. You knew of the storm, yet the feeling just didn't sit right with you as you continued to think about that man. Something was wrong. You left the pharmacy even when Baizhu told you not to leave.

How shocked he was when you came back very injured and with amnesia. Even if he was saddened, scared even, that you were in pain, Baizhu could not help but become a little delighted.

When you looked so worried, your poor, soft, lovely heart was unable to stand the idea that he was hurt when it was all a lie in the first place that he was your fiancé. Changsheng pointed out sarcastically that he was deranged in the head when it came to you. Too sly already, yet when it came to you, it seemed that he was greedy.

And maybe he was, when you were placed right in front of him, how could he not consume his precious little thing’s mind?

#yandere baizhu #yandere genshin #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere baizhu x reader #baizhu x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin writing #genshin fic #yandere blog #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yancore #genshin oneshots

[planetatlas]

~ Sanctuary ~ Duncan (TDI)

Summary: You and Duncan are childhood friends. After Duncan leaves for the show he got cast on, Total Drama Island, all the both of you do is count the days until he gets home.

Content: Fluff, you patiently waiting for Duncan to come home, Duncan using his love for you as his coping mechanism for getting through the show.

A/N: I listened to Sanctuary by Joji the entire time I was writing this. Just a bit of childhood friends to lovers fluff.

______________________________________________________________

It was summertime. Five year old Duncan was currently chasing a five-year-old (Y/N) through the park. The sun was shining, Duncan could barely hear the birds whistling and cars driving by over the wind rushing through his ears as he ran as fast as he could after you. “TAG! You’re it!” He screamed as he finally got close enough to slap your back lightly. He watched you turn around before he took off sprinting the other direction. You were getting closer, and closer, until your little hand began reaching for his arm. You were so close to touching him, just a little further and- 

He felt a slight poking sensation on his butt, then fully woke up when he felt something poke him in the nose. He grabbed whatever was poking him before standing up and snapping it in half. It was a stick. The other members of his team were using a stick to wake him up. He was more than a little irritated, as not only had he warned them not to wake him, but they also used a stick and poked him instead of just shaking him or yelling or literally anything else. On top of that, they interrupted a dream of a fond memory he has of when you two were children. It was the day you two had met. As he demanded an explanation and then proceeded to teach his team how to win dodgeball, you stayed in the back of his mind. He wondered if you were watching him right now. 

~

You watched as Duncan led his team to victory in the dodgeball tournament, this episode’s event. You laughed quietly to yourself at the fact that he managed to turn the tournament into a game of one-sided prison dodgeball. You felt slightly bad watching the other team get demolished, but you were happy for Duncan for winning that episode. As it ended and you turned your TV off, you bid your parents goodbye as you grabbed your things and headed to your room. As happy as you were that Duncan was offered such a big opportunity like this, you also felt lonely. It felt a little selfish, but you missed Duncan a lot. He was basically the only person you talked to, but you tried to keep yourself occupied by talking to and hanging out with your other school friends. You just wished you could communicate with him and see how he was doing. The show he was on looked a little brutal, and you couldn’t help but worry about his well-being. 

~

~

~

This place was starting to get to Duncan. He didn’t show it outwardly, but it was starting to drain him and he felt like he was going insane. He knew the viewers of Total Drama Island probably believed it was all for show, but this show was actually physically dangerous sometimes. The only thing that kept him sane and determined was counting down the days until he got to go home, to you. He sat on the steps of his cabin and watched as everyone mingled about since this was one of the rare moments the cameras weren’t stalking them and they got to hang out together freely. That was another thing that got on his nerves, the constant invasion of privacy. It was all stacking up and causing him way too much stress to be normal. Courtney walked over to him and asked if he was okay, but he shrugged her off, giving her the excuse of being tired and not in the mood to socialize. That was partly true, he only really wanted to socialize with you at the moment. He wondered what you were up to, how you were doing, what you had been doing since he’d left. He wished you were here with him. He then thought about his “relationship” with Courtney. The producers, directors, and Chris thought it would be a great idea, as it would bring in more publicity and spice things up, but Duncan found that he just could not make it real no matter what. However, he knew exactly why he couldn’t feel for Courtney romantically.

She couldn’t compare to you in his eyes. You were the one who held his affection, no one else. 

~

You were sitting in bed, watching YouTube on your laptop. You were having trouble paying attention though, as your mind wandered to Duncan again. The episodes of Total Drama Island were getting more and more shocking and dangerous, and it made you wonder just how much of it was fake. Surely they wouldn’t knowingly endanger several minors to this degree, right? You were just glad that Duncan has made it this far unscathed. It reminded you of when he’d get into fights or hurt himself doing something stupid and you’d be there to patch him up, like always. The distance and inability to contact him was starting to weigh on you a little. You really missed him, but at least you got to see him and hear him talk, even if it was through a TV screen. You were grateful for this, as he wasn’t afforded the same luxury with you.

~

~

~

Duncan laid curled on his bunk, one of your hoodies tucked into his chest. He’d made sure everyone else was asleep before bringing it out, he didn’t want anyone else to get a hold of it, much less know about it. They had done the “Phobia Factor” episode today and it took a lot out of him mentally. Initially, he was scared stiff at the mere idea of hugging a Celine Dion standee, but when he got up to it, memories of you and your comfort gave him the courage to go through with it. Before he hugged it, he just remembered the times when he’d freak out if you two passed one when you were out together, and you would tease him for it. However, when the nightmares would come the night after you always comforted him through them, not a hint of teasing or judgment to be found. He breathed in the smell of your hoodie, which was lavender laundry detergent. The moonlight was shining through the window, hitting the object in his hand perfectly and giving him full visibility to it. It was a locket, to which you had a matching one, with a photo of you in it. As time went on, he felt as though this show was as bad as juvie, with no contact with you. He was grateful he was able to bring your hoodie and the locket this time, since he couldn’t have them in juvie. As he considered it, he’d probably want the items here instead as sometimes this place felt more traumatizing than juvie. The lavender scent from your hoodie lulled him to sleep that night, unaware of someone who happened to catch a glimpse of what he had been holding. 

~

You were struggling to sleep that night. You kept reminiscing on memories of you and Duncan. They were brought up when you watched the most recent episode of TDI. The fact that Duncan actually admitted to his fear of Celine Dion music store standees and had to hug one was hilarious to you. You remembered all the times he would jump when you would pass them, and then you would remember the many nights you had comforted him after a nightmare about the stupid things. It may be a silly fear, but you never looked down on him for it. It was just a part of who he was, and you took it in stride along with everything else. It didn’t change your perception of him, he was still the same guy you loved with all your heart. You then began to wonder about the romance he seemed to have with Courtney. You wondered if it was just some random romance for publicity or if it was real. It looked real enough, but something felt off. Maybe you just knew Duncan too well and could tell when he was acting or wasn’t being sincere about something. You hugged your plushie to your chest, trying to ground yourself and distract your mind from the topic. As you hugged it, you thought about how you got it. It was a plushie Duncan had won you at a carnival a couple of years ago. It was cheesy, just a stuffed rabbit, but it was special. It was the first thing he’d ever gotten you. Whenever you had to be separated from him for a while, or even if the smell would just start to fade, he’d spray his cologne onto it. It was subtle, but it smelt like him. Everything about him smelt like it; his room, his clothes, even his shampoo and conditioner came in the same scent, but it was his and it comforted you. You reached over and opened your matching locket to see the photo you had taken of him one day when he wasn’t paying attention. You fell asleep with the locket still clutched in your hand, which your parent took and put back on your nightstand before turning the lights off when they came to check on you after seeing your light still on. 

~

~

~

Harold, DJ, Geoff, and Owen snuck into the Killer Bass cabin after seeing Duncan walk into the cafeteria hall. They dug around Duncan’s bunk for a moment before DJ pulled out a plain black hoodie. “It smells like lavender,” he informed the others as they gathered around to look at it. Harold then brought up the point, “I mean it’s just a plain black hoodie but I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to use lavender laundry detergent, and it’s weird that we’ve never seen him wear it,” the other boys murmuring in agreement and confusion, wondering why Duncan would have such an item and not wear it. “Look guys! Check this out,” Geoff alerted before pulling a locket out of Duncan’s pillowcase. Owen opened the locket before gasping in surprise. The other boys gathered around and saw a photo of a person in it. They began to question who it was and if they were the reason Duncan wouldn’t pursue Courtney romantically outside of camera view. Then they heard the door slam open. Everyone screamed when they saw Duncan, who looked like he was about to explode. Needless to say, they didn’t attempt to pry into Duncan’s life and warned everyone else not to either, but they didn’t tell anyone what they saw. They felt it was personal and believed it should be Duncan's choice whether or not to talk about it.

~

You were watching the newest episode of TDI with your friends, just talking amongst yourselves when you weren’t glued to what was happening on screen. One of your friends asked you how you were doing with Duncan being gone for the show for so long, and you admitted that it had been a little difficult but you were grateful to them for helping you and keeping you busy. They began teasing you for having a crush on Duncan, saying you were “so in love”. You just rolled your eyes but you kept watching the TV as your eyes would stay glued to Duncan. One of your other friends then asked how you felt about his romance with Courtney, to which you responded saying it didn’t bother you that much seeing as how you weren’t dating and he could make his own choices. You didn’t admit that it did make you quite jealous, as you didn’t feel like it was your place to be.

~

~

~

It had been months since he started TDI. So many people had gotten sent home, and finally, it was his turn. He made it to fourth place, he wished he could’ve won but it’s better than nothing. He was more than a little annoyed when he was brought to Playa Des Losers after being eliminated and seeing how much better it was than Camp Wawanakwa. Despite that, he was trying to enjoy what little time he had there. Since he was fourth, only three more people needed to be eliminated before they all went home which wouldn’t be long. Courtney did approach him at one point, talking to him normally before asking if he wanted to make their romance on the show real. He turned her down politely, stating that he already had feelings for someone else back at home. She inquired if they were dating and if the kiss they shared on the show counted as cheating, but he told her you weren’t dating but he still did it just for the show. She understood, turning to walk over to Bridgette and Geoff sitting by the pool. His mind then swarmed with thoughts of you. He was still counting down the days until he could see you again. The thought of seeing you made his entire body buzz and fill with warmth. 

~

~

~

Seeing Duncan get voted off did sadden you a little, but you were also growing more excited by the day. Duncan came in fourth, which meant the show would end soon. Soon, he’d be back home, back in your arms. You could hardly contain yourself as the days passed by and the show finally ended with Owen being the winner. 

The day of his arrival was finally here and you couldn’t stop bouncing with excitement. You’d been anticipating this for so long. You watched as the plane landed, he’d texted you when the boat brought them back to the mainland telling you he got soaked and had to change before the flight. You laughed at that, and continued to wait patiently. Finally, the plane landed and the contestants began filing out. You stood there anxiously, searching for the green mohawk you’d missed. You noticed a few of the guys from the show do a double take when they saw you, but you figured they just had you confused with someone else. Finally, he came out of the loading dock and when he saw you both of you froze. You didn’t know what to do, you were so overwhelmed with excitement and shock and happiness that your brain stopped functioning for a minute. It seems like his did as well. 

~

When Duncan exited the loading dock and caught sight of you, it felt like time froze. To him, no one else existed at the moment, and how could they when you were finally in front of him? After a minute he shook his head to clear his thoughts, vaguely taking notice of the other former contestants staring at the both of you, but he didn’t have time to process it as he lunged at you, engulfing you in a hug. You hugged him back just as tightly, jumping up as he reached you and wrapping your legs around his waist. His arms flew behind your back and pinned you to him, squeezing so tightly you would think he was trying to suffocate you but you didn’t mind. You two stayed like that for a while before releasing your hold on him and dropping back to the ground. You grabbed him by the hand and said, “Let’s go get your luggage and go home.” All he could do was nod dumbly like a lovesick puppy as he followed you to baggage claim. 

~

~

~

You and Duncan were in your room, laying on your bed with you slightly leaning against stacked pillows and Duncan laying on your front with his head on your chest and your arms around his back. Duncan had music playing softly on your TV, and you were just basking in each other’s presence until Duncan let out a quiet hum. You nudged him to question what he was saying, and he brought his head up to rest his chin on your chest, looking you in the eyes. 

“You know the thing with Courtney wasn’t real right? None of it was.” he questioned you. 

You replied, “Of course I did. I know you well enough to know when something is off,” rolling your eyes at the end. 

Instead of a snarky reply, Duncan simply looked at you thoughtfully. He looked like he was gathering his thoughts and figuring out what to say before opening his mouth. “The fake romance with her did make me realize I need to admit something I’ve been hiding for too long.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“That I’m in love with you. The distance and not being able to talk to you or see you didn’t help either.”

You stared at him wide-eyed, mouth slightly open with shock. He watched your reaction for a moment, before disappointment crossed his face and he went to speak again before you stopped him. “Before you say it, don’t be sorry because you didn’t make anything uncomfortable. I’ve been waiting to hear those words for so long.”

He looked shocked for just a second before soft warmth filled his eyes. “Well if I knew you’d been waiting I would’ve told you sooner. In that case, would you go out with me? And do me the honor of going on a date this weekend?”

“Absolutely, I’m all yours,” you smiled gently as you responded to him. He gave you a content look before laying back down onto your chest, beginning to doze off as happiness and love filled his body. He felt like he’d been waiting for this forever, been waiting to be here. He’d been waiting to come home, to you. 

His sanctuary.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: I loved writing this one, it's just so adorable to me. Feel free to request anything!

#td duncan #total drama duncan #tdi duncan #tdi duncan x reader #duncan x reader #tdi #td #total drama #total drama island #td owen #td dj #td geoff #td harold #td courtney

[catscidr]

Could you make a scenario with sick reader and Yandere doctor please 😭

need him to walk into my room in a nurse outfit and take care of me when i get sick... but Alas he's not real... woe is me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)..... WHATEVER i can always write about him anyways so im WINNING EITHER WAY...... (inhales copium) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore, he's a little overbearing, reader has a cold. that's pretty much it (lmk if i missed anything!) includes: gn reader, dottore, iota (youngest segment) wc: 1,3k

Ooohhhh he would be mad. Not in an explosive way, but in a “I’m not mad, just disappointed” way except he IS mad, he’s just really good at keeping his emotions under wraps. You know this, too. He made sure that you did. 

It didn’t matter what kind of illness you came down with; a common cold, the flu, something worse? He’s freakishly good at reading you, and he didn’t need to hear you blowing your nose or sniffling every other second to know you had gotten sick. The skin around your nose blossoming into a darker, reddish tone and your eyelids drooping just a bit lower than usual was enough for him to know you weren’t telling him something you should have. 

It also didn’t matter if you didn’t even see him- he had eyes everywhere, quite literally. It was rare for you to be anywhere in the palace or the lab without one of his clones attached to your hip, whether it be a younger clone tagging along to do something more interesting than breaking open a ruin guard, or an older clone staying by your side, taking a break from work to enjoy your company. 

So, of course, even if the doctor happened to be especially busy when you suddenly caught a cold, you’d still be stuck with him being the equivalent to a mother hen because of how seriously he took your health. 

Usually you didn’t mind his attention, you’d even bask in it, but this time you couldn’t stand it. Your state had been manageable for the past two days and, thankfully, Prime and his clones were none the wiser to your nose overproducing snot nor the way your eyes had more crust around them when you woke up in the morning. But you feared that today would be the day he’d catch you and promote you to being his bedwarmer- literally. Last time you got sick and went to him for help you felt like you were in urgent care, forced to stay in his bed, having at least two of his segments stay with you 24/7, making you eat four meals a day despite your lack of appetite and desperate need for sleep. 

You could insist all you want that you were fine, that you just needed to vegetate in bed for a day or two and you’d be back on your feet in no time, but no, he refused to have any of it. He’d ask who’s the doctor here? in the same condescending voice he used whenever one of his lackeys displeased him (and you’d reply with you didn’t even graduate if you weren’t so tired), and then would throw you over his shoulder to bring you to his spotless bedroom so you could rest while he keeps an eye on you.

The one thing you were happy about was how Dottore wasn’t prone to blatant violence. Nothing physical, at least. When needed, he would slip medication into your water to help you sleep, would graciously lift your sleeve to give you a shot while you were knocked out cold and give you special medicine to make sure you had all the vitamins you needed. He wouldn’t do any of that if you had cooperated with him in the first place, though; so, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. At least not for long. 

Like clockwork, you were currently going through that same order of events. 

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to indulge Iota and go out in the snow to make a snowman with him- but how could you resist him! The lab could feel so stuffy as it was, and the additional smell of blood covered up by strong cleaning agents only did so little to help you resist his pleas. So, you grabbed Dottore’s Harbinger coat and got yourself dragged outside by the small but mighty youngest segment as he eagerly talked your ear off about having a snowball fight, making a myriad of snow angels and other winter activities you weren’t familiar with. 

After getting absolutely pelted with snow (Iota was good at snowball fights, surprisingly) you hung up Dottore’s coat to dry and made your way to the bathroom to wipe off any snow and water that had gotten on your skin despite the large, fluffy cloak you wore. Iota waved you off with a boyish grin and a taunting better luck next time! as you watched him saunter off into the direction of his creator’s lab. Your fingertips felt cold but as you dried your skin thoroughly you felt your body gradually warm up, and that was enough for your standards. 

Placing the towel on a rack to dry, you then headed over to your room to relax your aching muscles after the remarkably intense snowball fight. You laid down underneath the covers, grateful to be able to take a nap. However, when you awoke about two hours later, you thought you felt your arms weighed even more than before, and your head throbbed an ache that wasn’t there previously. And surely, a day later, you find yourself sneakily throwing away your used tissues somewhere that Dottore won't find them, else he subjects you to his overbearing methods of... curing you. 

You did your best to make your footsteps as careful and light as possible, lowering the chances of one of them finding you with a trash bag full of snot-filled tissues. Unfortunately for you though, maybe you should have worn something other than pyjamas because, as luck had it, although a segment hasn’t seen your physical state, a patrolling agent did. 

He spoke into a walkie-talkie quietly enough that your ears didn’t pick up the sound of his voice and, as you're about to step outside to throw the trash bag out, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A cold, gloved hand that you could recognize anywhere with your eyes closed. You halt your movements as the (not so) mysterious figure behind you stays silent, waiting for you to say something first. 

Your shoulders slump forward in defeat, and you sniffle. “I don’t wanna be locked up in your room again,” you say quietly, voice slightly slurred from your cold. He scoffs, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently enough for it to be comforting. “Maybe if you didn’t try to go outside while having a cold I would reevaluate your options,” he sighs. “Alas, you leave me no choice. What were you thinking?” Dottore turns you around and frowns, tilting his head to the side. If you were anyone else you would have been dead where you stood, but here you are; wearing one of his old shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, one of your hands gripping a trash bag, and the other wiping your nose. You stand awkwardly, looking away sheepishly, not particularly enjoying being caught red-handed like this. 

“It would be unhygienic to keep all of those used tissues in my room,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug. He holds back the urge to sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, mask lifting just a tad from the action, and exhales slowly. You would be the death of him eventually, he thought tiredly. 

Dottore bends down low enough to grab the bag from your hands and looks over his shoulder, tossing it to a poor unsuspecting fatui soldier. The soldier in question stumbles back slightly, just barely keeping themselves from tripping over, as Dottore signals for them to throw it away themselves. You don’t have the time to speak up before the person scurries away. 

“Next time don’t be so obvious,” he says quietly enough that only you can hear him. He bends his torso forward slightly, holding his face leveled with yours. “And next time you decide to get sick,” he begins with a raspy tone, holding your chin up with his palm, “come to me immediately. Lest you want me to wrestle you into my room again.” 

You’d be blushing if you didn’t know what was going to happen. Dottore straightens his back and outstretches his hand to you, looking at you from below his mask. Defeated, you interlace your fingers with his and jut your lip out as you hold back the urge to whine. A small smile graces his face as he guides you back to the lab. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore x gn reader #il dottore x y/n #il dottore x you #il dottore x gn reader #il dottore x reader

[blughxreader]

hi! i dont think i can ever get enough of yan! platonic! Batfam 🥲 can i get a neglected reader who has successfully escaped, only to come back to gotham by some unprecedented causes a few years later? i have plans to write a fic like this and want some inspiration (and to fill the yandere batfam tag)

Platonic Yandere!Bruce, Dick, Jason with a darling who escaped and returned to Gotham

Headcanons, WC: 1,048

Notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! This ask is five months old lol. I had to cut out the baby boys to finish </3 If I can come up with ideas for Damian and Tim then I'll add to it.

Bruce

The weight of Bruce’s mistakes hangs over his head every day, but his mistakes with you are by-far the heaviest.

He should have appreciated you more. He should have told you what you meant to him. Instead, he let you feel invisible. It kills him.

When you’re spotted in Gotham years later, he can hardly believe it.

He’ll drop everything and go straight to you, deploying all the boys to ensure you don’t slip away. If it’s daytime, Bruce Wayne will make a rare appearance and corner you with paparazzi, and if it’s nighttime, then Batman will swipe you off the streets before you can cry out.

He’ll forgive every outburst you give. You’re furious and he understands—he considers your anger entirely his fault so he’ll give you a lot of slack.

Bruce will drown you in gifts. Because Batman takes up so much time (and it was lack of attention that drove you away in the first place) he’ll try every means at demonstrating his love. Gifts, vacation homes, front row seats to events (with strict supervision).

This version of Bruce would keep you under 50 cameras and a body guard at all times, but he’s also very conscious of your mental health. Where he’d be able to guiltlessly lock you up forever if he hasn’t neglected you, he can’t in this timeline. Your life would be heavily supervised, but you’d also get a lot of perks.

He would make a routine with you.

Every morning, he’d eat breakfast with you, and every Friday would be a special dinner with just the two of you. His hours are valuable so it means a lot for him to carve out the time just for you.

Dick Grayson

Dick prides himself on his strong leadership and generosity. Ask anyone whose ever met Dick to describe him, and they could list pages of positive traits. So it's a wonder how you, his precious little darling, managed to be overlooked by him.

Guilt literally eats him alive. Dick begins to second-guess every interaction with you, going over all clues he might have missed. He throws himself into the investigation looking for you, investigating every single fact you've ever mentioned about yourself.

When you finally return, he's dead-set on making up for lost time.

Dick wouldn’t approve of your reasoning for leaving. You should have told him--should have insisted on being heard--instead of leaving. He feels terrible that you were neglected, but he feels worse knowing that you’d rather be thrown to the wolves than seek their help.

It's a steep learning curve for him to realize you're not the lonely child you once were, but instead a bitter, jaded young adult who confides in only themself.

Dick drowns you in attention. He tries forcing your innocence back, not accepting your refusals and anger. You're still so young, and even if the sparkling child-like hope is missing from your eyes, Dick still believes he can make things right.

Family bonding time is a must. He arranges play-time with you and Damian. He insists on Sunday movie nights. He learns how to cook new dishes with you and Alfred. He will keep you busy.

These activities are only a surface solution for a deeper problem. Fundamentally, you've changed, and Dick knows this. He has no idea how to treat you now, so he resorts to what he does know--your childhood he missed out on.

Jason Todd

Jason is particularly torn. He knows what its like to feel abandoned, yet he realized too late that he was the perpetrator.

When you are finally back in the arms of the Batfamily, Jason has no idea what role to take in your life. He sees you turning down the family when they offer love and he doesn't know if his heart could take your rejection.

Jason is stand-offish. Playing the role of "tough older brother" doesn't bode well, so he needs time to rework his philosophy on handling siblings.

Instead, he does your bidding. He would help fix whatever unprecedented reasons that led you to return to Gotham, no questions asked. If you need to pass a letter on to a friend, Jason is your guy. His regular possessive yandere tendencies are hampered by his guilt, so he'll be very lenient with you as long as it's nothing dangerous.

The fact that you escape and survived by yourself cast you into a new light in Jason’s eyes. He thinks you’re impressive, dependable, capable. He wonders how he didn’t see it sooner.

That being said—you’re his little sibling. You shouldn’t have to be so strong, and Jason wants to ensure you’ll never have another reason to protect yourself.

He hopes that over time, you'll trust him. He wants to be able to sit with you and talk about whatever is on your mind, to be able to hug you as he leaves for work, and to send you off to bed when it's late.

But right now, you need space. He'll let you heal, and he'll take whatever anger you give him. Because he knows that this is the only way you'll let him into your life again.

Bonus: Y/N

Considering Y/N was clever enough to escape the Waynes while also having the willpower to return to Gotham shows that they’re intelligent, good-hearted, and forged from steel.

They probably rank somewhere between lawful-good to chaotic-neutral. (A lawful-neutral would be infuriated by the Waynes’ underhanded tactics, and probably wouldn’t return to Gotham.)

Y/N is done yearning for attention (or, if they were originally kidnapped, done with playing nice), so they’re immune to the Batfam’s manipulation.

Upon first glance at the Batfam after all those years, they’d immediately go fight or flight. Y/N would pull every dirty trick in the book to escape, and would be as hateful as possible to kill any affection they have for them.

After being kidnapped, Y/N gets very good at playing mind games and deflecting their submission tactics. They’d be able to manipulate the household like a giant game of chess.

Y/N’s only weakness is the child inside of them that still cries for their family’s approval.

The conflict revolves around how the Batfam can extort this weakness vs. how well Y/N can stay true to their values.

#batfam x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere batman #yandere bruce waybe #dick grayson x reader #platonic yandere batman #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

[starrynini05]

help, I need somebody – ahn yujin x kim gaeul x 7th member!reader

Summary: your leader and your eldest would always be by your side, it’s never to late to ask for help

warnings: mentions of sickness, anxiety, vomiting, fever

tags: idol!au ; reader is '05 liner ; 7th member!reader ; platonic!gaeul x reader ; platonic!yunjin x reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, sickfic

word count: 1.3k

a/n: WE ARE SOO BACK‼️‼️, I’m sorry for disappearing, but I’m officially a high school graduate and have time to write again, I hope you like this and expect more regular updates 🫶🏻

Your dynamic in the group was very simple, being, a year and a half older than Leeseo you were in between the youngest and the adults. Apart from you and Leeseo everyone was a legal adult, being more than 19 and already out of school.

You were in the rare middle between not being quite an adult, but not a minor either. With only 17 years of age you still were required to leave events early and go to school, while also being expected to have enough responsibility to fulfill your duties as an idol.

Although you were the second youngest, you were not as nearly as coddled as the maknae and you knew it was mostly your fault. You were added to the lineup really close to debut, being a transfer trainee from SM. This made you reserved and somewhat scared of your teammates, mainly because you were really nervous around new people, and shy in general.

And, even if you longed for that care, you were too shy to willingly ask for it. Now, in your dimly lit room, you lay awake tangled in the sheets, shaking. Your members fast asleep in their respective rooms, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing within you.

Earlier that week, yours and Leeseo’s school had canceled classes due to a virus going around. Both of you were thankful that neither of you had caught it, but now you weren't so sure. During practice, you felt more tired than usual and a dull ache had installed in your body, but you gave it no thought.

Now curled up in your bed, trembling and with what you were sure was a high fever, you regretted not saying anything earlier. Nonetheless, refusing to wake the others, you convinced yourself that you could sleep it off and wake up the next morning feeling better.

You had worked so hard to create a perfect facade, you were too embarrassed to let it falter. But, as time went on you only felt worse, transforming it into a relentless torment. Beads of sweat clung to your forehead as you debated whether to wake Yujin and Gaeul. Your heart thumped like a drum, the anxiety of disturbing their slumber almost as unbearable as the pain.

Finally, with a surge of determination, you mustered the courage to knock lightly on their shared room door. Inside the room, both Yujin and Gaeul woke up confused as to why someone was bothering them at 2 a.m. Confusion turned into worry, and Yujin hurried to the door with concern. She was surprised to see you standing there, your usual calm demeanor replaced by an ashen hue of unease.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your posture so you wouldn’t look as fragile as you felt in front of her, at least. You hated looking fragile in front of anyone, let alone them. They were your elders and you didn’t want them to think of you as someone fragile or weak. Sensing your hesitance she broke the silence first “Is everything okay?" she asked, the concern in her voice genuine.

Even then you wanted to resist but she was looking at you with such caring eyes, and you just felt so tired. You sighed in defeat, not quite looking at her face, your voice barely audible as you responded, "I... I'm not feeling well." Yujin's eyes widened, her concern replacing any hint of amusement she might have felt at your shyness. "What's wrong?" she asked while motioning for you to enter the room and lay in her bed.

Your voice trembled with pain while you explained your symptoms, failing to see the frown on her face at your sudden drowsiness. With a tired groan, she helped you lay on the bed, placing her hand against your forehead. As she was about to comment on your high fever you suddenly jolted, a sudden wave of nausea dawning over you. You barely had time to run into a nearby trash can before you were violently sick. Gaeul, who was almost falling asleep, was now wide awake, hearing your retching sounds. She quickly got up and ran to your side, holding your hair back and rubbing your back soothingly. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're going to be fine. Just breathe, alright?" she whispered, trying to calm you down.

Your face was flushed, your body trembling as you leaned over the bin. You felt tears sting your eyes as you emptied your stomach, feeling miserable and weak. You hated being sick, especially in front of them. You didn't want to bother them or make them worry about you. You wanted to be strong and independent, like they were. But right now, you couldn't help but feel grateful for their presence and support.

When you finally stopped throwing up, you leaned back against the bed, feeling exhausted and dizzy. Yujin handed you a glass of water and a wet towel, helping you clean your mouth and face. "How long have you been feeling like this?" she asked, her voice gentle but stern. You hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth. "Um... around 1 hour ago, I guess." you lied, hoping they wouldn't notice.

They did. Yujin and Gaeul exchanged a look of disbelief and disappointment. "An hour ago?" Yujin repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because we saw you looking pale and tired during practice, and you barely ate anything at dinner. And you didn't say anything to us. Why didn't you tell us you were sick?"

You felt a surge of guilt and shame, knowing you had been caught. You lowered your eyes, avoiding their gaze. "I... I didn't want to bother you. You have so much to do, and I didn't want to be a burden. I thought I could handle it on my own. I'm sorry." you mumbled, feeling small and pathetic.

Yujin and Gaeul sighed, shaking their heads. They moved closer to you, wrapping their arms around you in a warm hug. "You're not a bother, or a burden, or anything like that. You're our friend, our teammate, our family. We care about you, and we want you to be happy and healthy. You don't have to handle everything on your own. You can always ask us for help, or tell us how you feel. We're here for you, no matter what. Do you understand?" Yujin said, her voice soft and sincere.

Gaeul nodded, adding her own words of comfort. "Yeah, what she said. You're amazing, and talented, and beautiful, and we love you so much. You don't have to hide your feelings or pretend to be okay when you're not. You don't have to be perfect, or strong, or anything else. You just have to be yourself, and that's enough for us. You're enough, okay?"

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, making you choke up. You couldn't believe how lucky you were to have them in your life, how much they cared about you, how much they accepted you. You nodded, feeling a smile tug at your lips. "Okay. Thank you. I love you too." you said, hugging them back.

They smiled, kissing your cheeks and forehead. "You're welcome. We're glad you're feeling better." they said, tucking you in the bed. "Now, you need to rest. We'll stay with you until you fall asleep, and then we'll call the manager and the doctor in the morning. Don't worry about anything, we'll take care of everything. Just focus on getting well, alright?"

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief and gratitude. You closed your eyes, feeling their warmth and love surround you. You drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and secure in their arms. You knew you had nothing to fear, as long as they were with you. You knew you had found your home, with them.

#ive x reader #ive yujin #gaeul x reader #yujin x reader #ahn yujin #kim gaeul #ahn yujin x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop gg #ive #sickfic #kpop sickfic #k films

[swordsmans]

prompted by a baffling conversation with one of my friends + overall trends with events like big bangs. apparently i am deeply underestimating the amount of, like, actual consumption crossover between fanartists and fanwriters. i've been operating under the assumption that the majority of fanartists don't read fanfic and that fanfic is a relatively niche thing mostly shared between fanwriters with a few outlier exceptions. like, that the "communities" or w/e are relatively separate??

this is possibly because i've been out of "fandom" for a few years (or bc im not on twitter/insta where the artists hang out), but i feel like most of my friends are other fanwriters and most of the people who actively engage with fanfic on tumblr/ao3 are also fanwriters (and vice-versa with fanartists gravitating to each other). however. my friend disagrees? neither of us are actually artists tho so i'm putting the question out to the crowd. (more thoughts) ->

side note: i didn't include an option for being BOTH a fanartist/fanwriter because 1) you're like rare and exotic birds to me 2) i'm trying to figure out who falls into which category based on what community you "identify" with the most. if you write the occasional fanfic but you mostly think about/create fanart, you're a fanartist; if you mostly write fanfic but every now and then will think about/make some art, you're a fanwriter. the group you're more likely to engage with. that kinda thing.

side note 2: you will see i have included an option for fanwriters who don't/rarely read fanfic. i know you exist because that is my category. i read fanfic but do so rarely these days. i'm selective because i dont have a lot of time on my hands. this is possibly another reason why i feel like engagement between fanwriters is so high, because if i'm going to engage with a fanfic i'm gonna put my whole ass into it since that's the kind of engagement that makes me happiest from a writer's perspective.

for reference, when i say "engagement" i'm talking about leaving kudos, comments on ao3, asks/comments on tumblr, tags on reblogs... that kinda thing.

with all of this in mind, this could literally just be because fanfic writers are more willing to engage with other writers bc of their own shared hobby and/or because fanfic writers know what kind of engagement theyd prefer on their own fics and act accordingly--and non-writer/artists are just more willing to engage in general because that's the primary way you participate in fan communities. on the flip side, fanartists might just straight up be a really quiet bunch... possibly because your thing (affectionate) is "visual" more than "verbal" (if that makes sense).

basically... this is exactly what i'd like to know LOL.

#this is mostly abt one piece because i DEFINITELY feel like there was WAY more crossover between artist/writers reading fanfic in homestuck #but that was also literally a decade ago & i feel like theres been a HUGE shift in how people see/are willing to engage w fanfic these days #THIS ISN'T SHADE OR ANYTHING I'M GENUINELY SO CURIOUS #i found out some people i assumed didnt read fanfic at all actually DO and i was BAFFLED #the librarian urge to do research create categories and make lists #spiders loopey is an outlier and should not be counted lfasjlhlhsdfsdhfkjs (kidding ily) #gyro.txt

[cosmicstarlatte]

Reality Show: Dateables (Obey Me!)

Diavolo and the others agreed to become a part of a new demon reality show that revolves around their lives.

»Characters: Dateables // ->[Click here for Part 1: Demon Bros]

»Tags: Shitpost/Humor, Bulleted Style, Solomon On His BS LMAO, Slight Mentions of MC

»Notes: Now I do, thanks for asking Anon!♡ // CM= Crew Member

Diavolo:

"Haha! Make sure you get my good side yeah!?"

He was ecstatic, this was the most exciting thing he's done in a while

His camera crew was nervous at first but then relaxed when they saw how easy-going the prince was

Then got nervous again when Barbatos threatened them to remind them who they're in the presence of

Filming him kept them on their toes, it was either going to be an easy normal day or a chaotic one

[Camera zooms in on Dia's photo album and zooms out to an excited Dia]

"Oh, oh! And this is me and Lucifer at the carnival! And this one is me and MC! And here's us all together!"

CM: "My lord may we ask how you feel about MC?"

[Camera pans to Dia reaching for a journal titled MC Fanfiction ]

"I'm glad you asked."

Barbatos shut that down real quick and made them cut that last part that day

[Camera cuts to Dia doing selfie POV and running from Barbatos and the crew] "-AND LUCIFER HAS THE MOST OUTRAGEOUS B-"

[Camera cuts momentarily, flashes of Lucifer and Dia struggling]

Naturally, the demons loved the prince even more after filming ended, it was nice to see another side of him

Barbatos:

"Delete that. Understood? 🙂"

Hated the entire show idea and tried to talk Diavolo out of it however he lost that battle

His camera crew was scared the entire time but filming him was easy for the most part

Viewers liked seeing the day to day things the butler did for the prince like preparing meals and organizing events

[Camera shakes as they trail behind Barbatos]

"You can't follow me into my room."

CM: "But the contract states-"

"🙂"

(nervous) CM: "Wow what's that!?" [Shakily zooms in on a clean empty corner]

[Distant camera keeps panning between Barbatos and a rat having a stand off just outside the castle grounds... it runs at him]

"TELL THE YOUNG MASTER IT WAS AN HONOR-"

CM: (Scares the rat in the opposite direction)

[Camera cuts to a disheveled Barb up in a tree]

"...Do you like pastries? Luxurious rare teas? How do you like to be rewarded?"

Simeon:

"Um...hello. I'm Simeon, an exchange student from the Celestial Realm."

Didn't mind being filmed but wasn't sure how to act so:

Main Character energy, he talked like he was on livestream, very show and tell; exactly what the show needed

His crew had a pleasant time with him and viewers loved the angel

[Camera zooms out and pans around his room, focusing on a sheep plushie]

"So this is where I live...and these are my things. I love to write in my spare time!"

[Camera pans to him looking out his window]

"You can see the House of Lamentation from this spot. Always seems to be on fire on Thursdays. Explosions are Saturdays. (BOOM) Ah, right on time. (sips tea)"

[Camera quickly zooms in on his shoulders and hips losing some focus] He's unaware of the fanservice he provides

CM: "Do angels ever get crushes, are they allowed? There's rumors with you and MC-"

"Um, well, you see, oh HEY LUKE! Sorry guys I promised I'd help him with baking!"

[Camera cuts to him pulling an annoyed Luke out the room]

CM to CM: "Can angels ever lie!? Is that allowed!?"

Luke:

"For the last time, I'm not a chihuahua!"

(whispering) CM to CM: "Heh, the rumors are true. He's got a little bark in him!"

Luke was nervous about filming but Simeon helped

His crew had a hard time with him; not that Luke was difficult but more so the crew had to watch what they say or how they act around the young angel

[Camera zooms in through the kitchen door and catches Luke dropping a whole bowl of batter]

They caught him saying his first bad word

Demons liked this 👍 Simeon did not 👎

CM: "That's too high, let me get that for you."

"I can do it myself, thanks!"

[Camera pans to Luke falling, scraping his knee and tearing up]

(sighing) CM: "Come here, I got a band-aid."

Solomon:

"Is this for a cooking show?"

Would not listen and made it a cooking show

His crew rolled with it anyway since it was easy to film him

"Welcome to Solo Cooking!"

Viewers were a little confused but continued watching

[Camera tries to focus on the fresh dish he made]

CM: "Oh that looks good can we try it?"

"By all means!"

His crew had to take a few days off from nearly dying so production moved slowly

One of the CMs ended up quitting and suing but Barb took care of it

[Camera catches Solo calling & inviting MC for dinner]

Out of good faith, one of the crew took his phone and chucked it

"...You could've just said you and the crew wanted an invitation? There's enough-"

His entire crew: (start running)

Viewers were a little disappointed, they thought they'd see more of the sorcerers life

There was one clip though

[Camera catches Solomon and the rarely seen Levi hanging out and laughing]

For some reason that clip became popular and was deemed precious

⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream

#OUTRAGEOUS WHAT DIA!? BOOBS? BOOTY? BODY? BODACIOUS BODY!? 🤨 #Solomon: I finally made it 💯 #Angel Smut/Kink tags shot up LMAO #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me shitpost #obey me crack #obey me humor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me dateables #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹ #✩ — the star: anon! #shitpostcifer

[asimpforyagami]

light yagami as a yandere (headcanons)

↷ A/N ─ my first time writing headcanons! i might write a story based on this because yandere light is so daddy ugh like he defines yandere

★ COUNT ─ 1k words, 50+ hcs

!! TAGS ─ gn!reader, yandere!light, stalking, manipulation (it's light so of course that's there), blackmail, death threats

★ TOPIC ─ light yagami as your yandere senior at to-oh university

✩ ok so light yagami is literally the worst character you could have as a yandere

✩ omg so i 100% can imagine light getting interested in a junior in his uni

✩ at first, he just doesn't care about you because he mostly keeps his feelings to himself

✩ but slowly he either felt threatened by your intelligence or felt that you were "too pure" for the cruel world

✩ he's stalked you around a few times, sure, following you to events, parties or get-togethers you may be at

✩ he keeps a safe distance at all times in case you become suspicious of him popping up everywhere you're at

✩ he gets your friends to talk to him about you

✩ but he first makes sure they won't rat him out to you

✩ he slowly gathers info about you, from your daily routine to your favourite chocolate - he has to know it all

✩ he strategically places himself in clubs and events you're a part of, inserting himself into your world without you knowing

✩ he even starts sending anonymous letters and gifts

✩ but of course, this is light we're talking about, so there's no way he's stopping at that

✩ he eventually talks to you and befriends you

✩ he tries to get your thoughts about kira too in your convos

✩ he keeps an eye on you both when you're in and out of the uni, constantly trying to find ways to talk to you in the form of study dates or something else where the two of you are alone

✩ he tries to find a secret about you, something he can use to blackmail you into staying with him without giving away his identity

✩ if he finds something like that, something you don't wanna reveal to others, he'll blackmail you with that in those anonymous letters, alright

✩ but if he doesn't, he'll reveal to you in those letters that he's kira and force you to stay with him so he doesn't write you and/or your family's name(s) down

✩ when he sees you so worried about something, he'll approach you asking what's wrong, acting like he's not the one writing the letters because the bastard's such a big fat liar

✩ you eventually tell him that yea there's this dude who's obsessed with me, expecting him to help you

✩ but he's just gonna play his concerned friend role really well, being all like "oh yea? i'm so sorry about that"

✩ while internally overjoyed at the fact that he has so much power over you

✩ he comforts you whenever you're upset, manipulating you into thinking he's trustworthy

✩ light will constantly put you in situations where you'll be alone both physically and emotionally, and he'll be your knight in shining armour, and help and comfort you

✩ he even pretends to look for the anonymous letter sender who claims to be kira with light being a part of the task force and all

✩ speaking of which he will absolutely flaunt his status in the task force - not as a suspect of course lmao

✩ probably trying to get you into thinking he's oh-so-trustworthy

when in reality literally everyone in the task force is suspicious of him at one point or another

✩ talking to him is like talking to tom riddle's diary from harry potter - the more you reveal your secrets, the worse the manipulation is gonna become

✩ so now there are two light yagamis in your world - one, the caring sweet friend, and two, the unknown sender of the ominous letters you're receiving

✩ but when you tell him you're gonna inform the police about this anonymous guy, he reveals to you that he's kira and continues the blackmail

✩ any attempt at retaliation and one of your family members dies, of course

✩ in the rare case that you hate your family (relatable) he's gonna find someone you care about and kill them off instead. and believe me, he's light yagami - he will find someone

✩ he won't hesitate to kill off any other guy who even dares to look at you. he wants no competition

✩ even though he's not insecure, he feels satisfied at the way you don't have anyone in your life except for him. it feeds his ego

✩ and he won't stop until he's the only one you're depending on.

✩ he won't kidnap you - he's way too good for that

✩ no, he'll lock you out emotionally

✩ he'll make sure you have to beg him before even talking to someone who's not him

✩ he'll torture you every single day. he'll make every single minute of your life a living hell

✩ but he won't harm a hair on your head

✩ his threats are never physical

✩ unless you count the death threat from the death note

✩ he will berate you if anyone notices the changes in your behaviour, forcing you to act normal as if nothing's happening

✩ when in reality you're trying not to fall apart every time he takes you out on another "date"

✩ that is, if you dislike him.

✩ needless to say you're gonna have to get used to his presence either way because he's gonna be around a lot

✩ and if he can't keep a watch on you himself he'll send ryuk

✩ and obviously, it's light yagami, so he already has pre-installed cameras everywhere around you - your bedroom, your bathroom, heck even some of your clothes

✩ expect to be either shown off like a trophy or hidden away - there is no in-between.

✩ shown off because he's proud he's gotten his hands on you.

✩ hidden away in case someone kidnaps you to threaten him, in which case he's gonna have to kill you, sorry not sorry

✩ but who knows? if you like him it's a blessing, isn't it? a win-win situation for both of you.

© asimpforyagami, 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

#light #light yagami #death note #yagami light #light yagami x reader #light yagami x you #light yagami x y/n #death note x reader #death note x you #death note x y/n #light yagami death note #yandere #yandere!light #dom!light #light dn #yagami dn #headcanon #hc #hcs #dn hcs #death note hcs #death note headcanons #light yagami headcannons #dn #yande.re

[nicoline1998enilocin]

World's Greatest Dad

PAIRING | Husband!Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.1K

SUMMARY | With Chris being away for filming during long periods, parenting can be complicated by yourself. Luckily, your daily FaceTime calls help you through it all, though it is always most exciting when he finally comes home. This time, you and your twins have prepared a little package to welcome him home after another three months of being away from home, and Chris couldn't have wished for a better welcome home.

RATING | General (G)

WARNINGS/TAGS | RPF, established relationship

A/N | I want to thank @cevansbaby-dove for inspiring this absolute fluff bomb of a fic, as it was a very cute one to write! 🥰 It's been a while since I have written anything for this adorable goofball, and I can't wait to get back into the groove of writing more for him again! This is proofread by @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm very grateful 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Care package Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | Free space

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

''We miss you, Daddy!" your twins River and Sage say in unison to your laptop screen while talking to Chris as you do the dishes after dinner. He's away to film Avengers: Endgame, and you can't help but outright stare at your husband occasionally. His longer, blonde hair and thick beard suit him, and you can't wait to run your fingers through them.

"I miss you too, Bubba's, but Daddy will be home tomorrow," he tells your daughters, and they let out an excited shriek, not wanting to wait any longer to see him again. And you wouldn't mind being able to cuddle up with your husband, either. After a few more minutes of the three of them catching up, you hear Chris asking for you, and the girls are on their way to their room to play.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" his head leaning on his hand as he looks at you with pure love and adoration, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he listens to what you say. You're lucky to have Chris as your husband and will thank your lucky stars daily.

"I'm doing good; the girls behave like little angels now that you're away. They're very responsible, and they help well around the house," you tell him as you listen to them playing their game in their room. They're now ten years old and growing up way too fast for your liking, but you also wouldn't miss it for the world.

"How excited are they that I'm coming home tomorrow?" Chris asks, and you tell him all about most of the plans you have made with them. The two of them can sleep in your bed tonight, and tomorrow, they'll help prepare dinner as a welcome home gesture. However, you did not tell him you've been busy building a care package for him.

"I miss you, but I'm happy to have my Hubby home again tomorrow; it's getting lonely without you at night. And there's only so much cuddles I can have with Dodger before I miss his Daddy." He lifts his head at the mention of his name, making you giggle.

"I miss you too, Babygirl, but it'll be worth it. After this, I'll be home for a few months," he tells you, and you're already looking forward to it. After another 15 minutes of calling, it's time to go and finish your little care package before taking your daughters and Dodger for a walk and winding down for the night.

You're up bright and early the following day, preparing breakfast for your girls, yourself, and Dodger. This afternoon is when Chris will finally return home after three long months, and you have rarely been this excited to welcome him home.

Seeing that it's a beautiful day outside, you decided to wear a bright pink sundress after laying out matching ones for your daughters. Chris has told you countless times how much he adores it when all his beautiful girls match, and you're looking forward to his reaction. Soon, the girls will be dressed and ready for breakfast, too, and now, all you three can do is wait.

When Chris is only five minutes away, he texts you so that you can expect him at any moment now. Over the years, you have made the tradition with your twins and Dodger to wait on the porch swing to welcome him home, and that's precisely what you do. River is on your left, Sage is on your right, and Dodger is lying patiently by your feet.

Luckily for you, there's no need to wait long because the car that drove Chris home turns the corner in less than a few minutes, and your twins jump from the porch swing while waving and jumping up and down.

"Daddy's home, Mommy! Daddy's home!" they say in unison, and as soon as Chris gets out of the car, he runs towards all of you while kneeling to capture his little girls in the biggest hug they have ever had.

"I'm so happy to be home again with my favorite girls! I missed you so much," he tells them as he gives both of them a big kiss before giving some love to Dodger, all while the driver patiently takes Chris' luggage out of the car's trunk. Dodger wags his tail happily as he accepts all the love from Chris, and then it's finally your turn.

"C'mere Gorgeous," your husband tells you as you wrap your arms around one another, pulling the other person as close as possible. You take your time inhaling his signature scent and let the happiness take over, peppering his face in kisses and saying countless 'I love you's.

After one last big kiss on his lips, it's time to go inside, and that's when Chris notices all three of you are matching today. You have gone all out for him, from the dress and shoes to the hair, and he can't get enough of it. He doesn't get too much time to think about that, though, because as soon as he's inside, he's greeted by the large care package you have made with the twins.

"Welcome home!" River and Sage say in unison as Chris walks into your house, the sunlight brightening the room beautifully.

"Thank you so much, my little monkeys; I'm so happy to be home for the next few months," he tells them as he walks over to what's on the kitchen table.

On the table is a large basket with some of his favorite as well as new books, some items to use in the bathroom like bath bombs and scented shower gels, some items for you and Chris to use in the bedroom such as a new massage oil, and something hidden in a sleek black box, and lastly, a big mug with the text ''World's Greatest Dad" made and decorated by both girls and it's filled with some of his favorite snacks too.

Before he thanks you, he first turns his attention to the girls.

"I may be the world's greatest dad, but I want you two to know you are the world's greatest princesses. Daddy's very lucky to have you two as his beautiful daughters," he says before hugging and kissing them again and sending them off to their room to play.

"Now, I believe it's time to say thank you to my beautiful wife," he says in a deep voice, and you can already feel the goosebumps forming on your neck. You pull him in for a kiss, which he happily reciprocates, pouring into it all the love that you two had to miss out on in the last few months.

"I love you, Babygirl, and thank you for being the best woman and most amazing wife I could ever wish for." With those words, it's time to officially unwrap his care package and settle for the next few months.

Surely, it may suck when he's gone, but the reunion when he's back is always more than worth it. Every. Single. Time.

#fluffbruary 2024 #ultimatechrisbingo #rpf #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fluff

[tsukimefuku]

in my shoes ❖ nanami kento

summary: you get severely injured while on one of your first missions with nanami.

wc: 1.1K

tags: jujutsu kaisen, light Nanami x oc/reader, angst, some fluff if you squint, mentions of injure.

notes, etc: just a little drabble i thought about to help me write "toxic endeavors". wound up bigger than expected (and in the collection).

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

Why would she ever do this, was all that Nanami could think when he brought you in for Shoko. Your entire body was in disarray, broken bones sprinkled across from head to toe, and his usually neat blue shirt was completely covered in blood — your blood.

Shoko's eyes widened as she saw Nanami carrying you inside, and she pointed at a gurney while asking for an explanation with her glance.

"We were jumped by two different curses we weren't expecting, and she took the hit in my place" was the answer he mustered to say as he laid your unconscious body for Shoko to work her magic.

She hovered her hands on top of you, and Nanami sat back, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose painfully.

"What's her prognosis?"

"I don't know, Nanami" Shoko replied, already applying RCT on your most critical wounds, both internal and external. "But she can RCT herself, so I figure I just have to do enough for her to wake up, then she can RCT herself too."

Nanami wasn't sure as to what felt worse in this whole situation.

You revealed yourself as a fine colleague, on top of being a good company when you weren't hellbent on your antics at him. The few missions he had gone on by your side were pleasant and allowed the both of you to finish work earlier. Losing a colleague — even one he had barely been working with for two months or so — usually wouldn't hit him that hard. However, not only were you under his guidance, rendering him directly responsible for your wellbeing in the field, he also carried a lot of guilt regarding you, specifically, due to past failures.

It felt like it would be the last nail in the coffin for you to die because of his inability to help you once again.

***

You had been unconscious for about four hours, and Nanami still sat inside that room, staring at you, waiting for any kind of movement or sign you were about to wake up. Frustrating all of his expectations, your body laid flat and unmoving on the gurney, even after Shoko healed you to the extent her RCT could.

"You know, staring won't make her heal any faster" Shoko said, while she leaned against the wall. "She's stable. You can leave, I'll let you know when she wakes up."

He sighed, and remained still, right where he had been sitting ever since he brought you in.

"Soooo, what happened?" Gojo said, coming inside the room unceremoniously. It took one look at you for him to go, "oh. Shit."

Oh shit, indeed, Nanami thought to himself.

"She's stable, we're just waiting for her to wake up" Shoko replied.

"I don't understand why she ever thought that doing this was a good idea" Nanami sighed, pulsing headache around his temples. Nearly every muscle in his body was clearly tense, and Shoko took note of that.

"You really are concerned about her" she said, and it wasn't a question.

Nanami diverted his gaze to face her for a moment, before looking back at you.

"I was given the rare chance to right an old wrong, and it seems I've failed once again. That's all there is to it" he answered.

"She'll be fine. She always finds a way" Gojo replied, hands in his pocket, more relaxed than everyone else in the room. That slightly rubbed Nanami the wrong way, and he became annoyed.

"There is no 'finding a way' in breaking nearly every bone in your body, along with massive internal injuries."

"That is not what I meant," Gojo retorted, pulling his phone from his pocket to casually check on his texts.

"Then, what did you mean?" Nanami asked, irritated.

"What I meant was that if she chose to do this, then she probably had a good reasoning to do so. She's not irresponsible or reckless, much to the contrary," he answered, putting the phone away.

Nanami sighed. Even a broken clock can be right twice a day, and so was Gojo when he said this. You were many things, but reckless was not one of them.

"Hm... What is..."

Nanami got up immediately at the sound of your voice and walked towards your gurney, resting a hand on its side.

Your eyes opened slowly, and you awoke to the sight of a giant blond man looking at you, his impassive chiseled face slightly torn with worry.

You braced yourself for the chastising to come, as you slowly remembered what happened and began to RCT yourself. Every nook and cranny of your body pulsed with pain, and even breathing was a labor-intensive task, diminishing by the second with your own healing.

"Why would you take the hit in my place? That was incredibly irresponsible and put us both in a dire position" Nanami chided, not noticing how hard he was pressing his fingers around the gurney's side support. 

Mindlessly, you put your hand over Nanami's, sending pins and needles all over your arm. Bad idea.

You thought you saw him glancing rapidly at both your hands before you began to answer, as his hand softly relaxed under your touch.

"Because healing someone else is only about 40% as effective as healing oneself" you began, "and I knew I couldn't tank both curses in your place if you got injured or knocked out."

You took a moment to breathe before continuing, but just as his hand did, his gaze had softened too. 

"I figured that, by taking the hit, you'd be unscathed and able to exorcise both curses, then bring me to Shoko. I began RCT as soon as I got hit, just in case I passed out, and knew that after Shoko woke me up, I'd be able to heal myself properly."

Gojo let out a small chuckle.

"We need to be strategic, right?" You asked, looking directly at Gojo.

"See? I told you," he said, looking at Nanami.

Nanami, on the other hand, was at a loss for words. Your reasoning did make perfect sense, and he wondered.

"If you were in my shoes, what would you have done?" You inquired, hissing slightly at a sudden shooting ache throughout your body.

He sighed and closed his eyes, nodding. "I would've done the same."

You mustered some strength to smile.

"I'm glad you acknowledged it."

"That doesn't mean, however, that you shouldn't be more careful or consider other better options when a similar situation arises again," Nanami replied.

You scoffed. "I will make no such promise, but I will try to be more careful. Does that sound good enough?"

"Not so..." Nanami began speaking, and you twisted your face at him. He sighed. "Fine. Good enough for now."

You smiled at him, winking.

"Thank you. I promise to try to do better next time this happens."

You didn't.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu fluff #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #kento x reader

[kwanisms]

Under the Cherry Tree — c.san

❀ ateez masterlist ❀

➮ bff!San × fem!Reader wc: 2.1k summary: Y/N has something important to tell her best friend San and asks him to meet her at their favorite cherry tree on campus. genres/themes/au: fluff; friends to lovers; non idol au, college au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, slightly suggestive content, mention of alcohol consumption

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: part of the 2023 Meet Me Under the Cherry Tree event for @cultofdionysusnet. I'm sorry this is so late. I meant to have this done and up way before the deadline for this event but other events wnd collabs got in the way and took up more of my time. Writing this one was easy. When the randomizer paired San with fluff, I knew I wanted him to be the reader's best friend. After that, it practically wrote itself lol thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner and line breaks made by me. Creator reblog banner template by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

For most people, cherry blossoms signify the start of something new.

New beginnings.

For you, cherry blossoms have always made you think of your best friend.

Choi San had come into your life when you least expected it.

He’d been a stranger you ran into on the playground and again on the first day of junior high. He’d been an awkward, thin, shy, and quiet boy and to an extent, he still was.

Well, except for the thin part.

Late into senior high, San had filled out, spending more time at the gym than at home reading or playing video games with you. Not that you were complaining. San used his new found strength to keep unwanted attention off you.

Of course, it also meant he had a gaggle of giggling girls following him, constantly asking him out and to be their boyfriend. San never took any of it seriously. Always preferring to spend his free time either in the gym or with you, studying so you both could attend college together.

When graduation came, you were ecstatic to finally be free from the confines of high school and onto the upgrade that was higher education. Your parents hadn’t been on board with a co-ed dorm at first until San promised to keep an eye on you which was made even easier when you were assigned to the same floor but unfortunately not as roommates.

Your roommate ended up being a girl who you befriended well enough but she was no replacement for San. For you, no one could compare to your best friend. No one could ever replace him.

You soon learned that it wasn’t the case for him towards the end of your freshman year of college when San finally gave in to one of the girls in his class and agreed to go out with her.

One date turned into two and then into three and soon he was introducing you to his new girlfriend, Hanna. You tried to be happy for him, you really did. After all, college was all about new experiences, right?

That’s what you kept telling yourself as San spent more time with Hanna and less time with you. Your roommate, Bee, decided enough was enough and took you out with her one night. A very rare night out where you met the man you would both later dub as “trouble.”

Wooyoung was kind enough, albeit a bit loud and boisterous. He took an instant liking to you however he wasn’t the one who ended up turning your life upside down. That was Yeosang, Wooyoung’s best friend.

Yeosang was a lot like San in that he was quiet, a little shy, studious, loved to work out and always had a group of girls fawning over him. The only difference was where San was spending more time with Hanna, Yeosang, wanted to spend more time with you.

Winter break brought with it a visit back home where you spent a lot of time at home, seeing your family and only seeing San a couple of times. When you went back to school, it was like you and your best friend had become strangers. The movie nights you usually held in your dorm room had been replaced with date nights with Yeosang, your first official boyfriend.

The second semester brought with it Valentine’s season and with that, San got his first dose of heartbreak when Hanna broke up with him.

The night it happened, you woke up to your phone vibrating on your nightstand and that was the first time you spoke to San in months. You listened to him rant, cry, and vent until eventually you both fell asleep.

You weren’t sure how but San managed to reintegrate himself into your friend circle. He got on very well with Wooyoung surprisingly but the real issue was with Yeosang. The two, despite being so similar, did not get along at all.

You tried to keep the peace, mediating and keeping them physically separated when the circle was together. It became exhausting until you finally put your foot down, telling both of them to grow up and stop acting like babies.

San seemed to handle this as he normally would have but Yeosang didn’t handle it as well. A lot of fights were had between you and Yeosang and thus began the long, complicated on and off again relationship with him.

It was clear San didn’t like this but out of respect, he never said anything. For an entire year, Yeosang and you fought, broke up, made up, and got back together. It seemed like every two weeks, you were making up.

You’d be lying if the fights and breakups weren’t exhausting but the makeups always seemed worth it until the final explosive fight that ended things for good.

It was junior year at a house party at one of the frats. You were enjoying yourself, drinking and having a good time. You and Yeosang had just gotten back together and he promised for good this time. Your finals had gone well and you were riding on cloud nine. Nothing could have prepared you for what was to come.

Ever since your last makeup with your boyfriend, San had seemed distant and indifferent. Perhaps he was just upset that he hadn’t found anyone to occupy his free time like you had, or perhaps finals week hadn’t gone as well for him.

Whatever the case, he had been sulking all week and it was starting to get on your nerves. You had come with San and Bee and met up with Wooyoung and Yeosang and almost immediately, Yeosang had pulled you onto the dance floor.

Unbeknownst to you, San watched the two of you bitterly as he sipped on whatever punch the hosts had prepared. You weren’t sure how many cups he’d had but someone later told you about six.

When Yeo had disappeared to get drinks for the two of you, San made his move. He swooped in, pleading with you that he needed to talk to you. You could immediately tell he was drunk and had told him he needed to go home but he refused. He had to tell you something important before the moment slipped away forever.

It was then that San drunkenly blurted out that he was in love with you and had been for a while. It was the reason he and Hanna broke up. Uncertain what to say, you had told San that it wasn’t the time to discuss this but he insisted, saying he’d been in love with you since before college.

It was that moment that Yeosang overheard the conversation and decided to step in, telling San to back off. Drunk and fueled by his overconfidence, San blurted out that Yeosang was sleeping with another girl the whole time he and Y/N had been off and on again.

A scene had formed and soon it turned into a scuffle in which Wooyoung and one of the hosts who you later learned was named Changbin broke up the fight, pulling both men apart while Yeosang warned San to stay away from you.

Changbin managed to get San outside the party while Wooyoung managed to calm Yeosang down while you made your way to the bathroom, having had the drinks Yeosang got for you spilled all over you when San lunged at him.

Bee had spent part of the night helping you try to get the smell of booze out of your clothes but you knew the only way to really fix it was to go home and wash your clothes.

As you left the bathroom, you were confronted by a girl you’d seen a few times before. She confirmed San’s story that Yeosang had been sleeping around while you were off and on. She apologized, being under the impression that what you and Yeosang had was casual.

You decided to confront Yeosang and break up with him once and for all.

He put up more of a fight than you expected but when you left, pulling from his grip one last time, he seemed to get the message and let you go.

San remembered everything from that night from the fight to confessing to you. He promised that you didn’t need to reciprocate his feelings he simply wanted you to know how he felt and he wanted you to know the truth about Yeosang.

Your friend circle fell apart shortly after the party, Wooyoung being Young's friend after all. Bee stuck by your side as did San. You focused on your school, making time only for your friends between classes and studying.

It had been almost a year since the party.

You hurried down the steps, careful not to trip as you pulled out your phone and shot a quick text to your best friend.

You: the cherry blossoms are blooming

You sent the text and hurried across the lawn, ignoring the stares from your classmates as you did. Your phone vibrated in your hand and you came to a stop to read the text.

Sandwich 🥪: big deal? We see them every year Y/N

Big deal? It was a big deal! Since breaking up with Yeosang and focusing on yourself and repairing your friendship with San, you’d come to realize three things.

No matter what, your friends would always be there for you

Boys were icky and men weren’t any better

You were in love with your best friend.

You sighed heavily as you typed a quick response.

You: oh whatever sourpuss, just meet me there!

Sandwich 🥪: 🙄 aye aye captain 🫡

You pocket your phone and continued, running across the lawn huffing as you reached the top of the hill. On the other side stood the south lawn which was home to a cluster of cherry blossom trees which were in full bloom. Pinks, whites, and everything in between decorated the branches, the blossoms swaying gently in the breeze as you started down the hill.

Running downhill was much easier than uphill and you reached the cluster in record time, gazing up at the delicate flowers as you walked past many of your classmates as they took pictures of the trees and each other.

You continued walking until you reached the furthest tree. It was your favorite one. It had clearly been there longer than the others and was much larger. In fact, it was large for a cherry blossom tree to begin with. Blossom covered branches hung down, shielding the trunk from view.

Pushing one of the branches aside, your eyes widened as you took in the sight of your best friend standing under the tree, phone in his hands as he snapped a couple pictures. It only took a moment for him to notice you, quickly hiding his phone as you approached.

“You got here fast,” you said, slightly out of breath. San shrugged. “I’ve been here the whole time,” he admitted softly, pocketing his phone and moving to sit at the base of the trunk, setting his bag next to him.

You moved to sit beside him, shrugging your own bag off and setting it down before taking a seat beside him. You looked up at the blossoms blowing in the breeze, a smile on your face.

Next to you, San watched you with a fond smile. When you turned to look at him, he didn’t look away like he had over the past year. He held your gaze. “What?” you asked with a shrug. San shook his head but reached forward, picking up one of the blossoms that had fallen from the branches.

“Nothing,” he murmured, inspecting the flower before reaching up and swiftly tucking it behind your ear. Your cheeks burned as you glared up at him but he merely smiled back at you. “Pretty,” he said simply.

Your gaze softened before looking down at the ground. “Shut up,” you murmured before leaning into his side. San accepted the gesture, draping his arm over your shoulders. “You are,” he said simply. “Pretty,” he added.

“I’ve always thought so.”

Your cheeks burned even more. “So are you,” you whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you but when he shifted to look at you with wide eyes, you knew he’d heard you. His shocked expression morphed into a smirk. “You think I’m pretty!” he teased only to stop talking when you leaned in to kiss him quickly.

“Yeah, and?” you replied, puffing your chest indignantly. “So what if I think you’re pretty? I think lots of people are pretty! I just happen to think you’re the prettiest and I’ve also always thought you were pretty and—”

Your rambling was cut short as San cupped your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into another kiss, this one much more tender and longer. When he finally pulled back he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“You think I’m prettier?” he asked, smiling when you nodded.

“Well, I think you’re the prettiest.”

#cultofdionysusnet #meetmeatthecherrytree23 #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #choi san scenarios #choi san imagines #choi san fanfic #choi san angst #choi san fluff #choi san x reader

[sailormoonrarepairweek]

Welcome to the third annual Sailor Moon Rare Pair Week! The event will take place from March 24th - March 30th, 2024, but I'm announcing the themes early to give everyone plenty of time to create their fanworks.

What counts as a rare pair for this event, you ask? Any pairing that isn't Usagi/Mamoru (or any of their incarnations), pretty much! (Don’t get too hung up on the word “rare”. Just roll with it, okay?) They usually have their own week, so this event is a chance for fans to show their love for pairings other than the Miracle Romance, canon or not. You can even include poly, platonic, and cross-over ships, if you'd like! Almost anything goes, as long as you follow some simple guidelines.

Fanworks should somehow incorporate the one of the day's themes. (You can pick just one; you don't have to use both.) How you choose the interpret the theme is up to you!

A non-UsaMamo pair must be the MAIN focus of the work (although Usagi/Mamoru can appear as a side pairing or as part of a polycule).

All ratings allowed.

No smut involving underage characters, which I'm defining as under 18 years old. Otherwise, as long as the characters are portrayed as adults in the fanwork, go wild! Just please make sure to properly tag.

Pairings of all sexual/romantic orientations welcome.

Fanfics should be a minimum of 500 words. Poetry may be shorter, though. (If you would prefer to write drabbles instead, you can write five separate 100-word drabbles about the day's themes, but a day's entry should still be at least 500 words long. You have over four months until the week begins and plenty of time afterward if you don't finish in time. That's plenty of time to write 500 words. I don't think that's too much to ask.) If you're writing fanfic, I REALLY would prefer you post your fics on AO3 or Fanfiction.net and provide a link to your story, but if you must post on Tumblr itself, please make use of the "Read More" option.

Fanart should be a completed drawing. (Any fanart portraying nudity or anything of an R/NC-17 nature should be cropped if immediately visible on your Tumblr post and/or posted with the appropriate community label. You can post the full image under a "Read More" or provide a link to the image on another site.)

Graphics, image boards, playlists, cosplay photos, crafts, meta/essays, etc. are also welcome!

Comments, kudos, and reblogs are encouraged, but don't be a jerk! If you're not a fan of a pairing, please just ignore and move on.

On Tumblr, if you tag #smrarepairweek2024, I will reblog your post. I'll tag explict art and fics reblogs as #nsfw, so feel free to block that tag if you'd rather not see those posts.

Please do not post your works anywhere until the day dedicated to your chosen theme. An AO3 collection has now been set up for this year's event. (Adding your work to the collection will not be required.) If you'd like to look back at the last event's works, the 2023 collection can be found here.

And here is the 2022 collection.

Themes

Day 1: Magic/Mundane Day 2: Hugs/Kisses Day 3: Fire/Ice Day 4: Music/Silence Day 5: Birth/Death Day 6: Break-Up/Make-Up Day 7: Free

(Event Organizer: @kaleidodreams)

#sailor moon #sailor moon fanfiction #sailor moon fanart #smrarepairweek2024 #sailor moon rare pair week #rare pairs

[corporatefrog]

╭₊˚ ๑︰REQUEST: Having a sleepover with Superhero!Stan, Kyle, and Kenny when Professor Chaos attacks South Park!

✧.* tags: college au, neighbors, superhero au

✧.* Characters: stan marsh, kenny mccormick, kyle broflovski, butters scotch

a/n: i didn't know how to introduce or end this piece so i made it a mix of headcannons/oneshot! do you guys prefer reading one over the other? i lowkey think a miraculous au with the superheros would be SO COOL

masterlist

living in the same apartment building means it's super easy to have SLEEPOVERS!! 

Butters usually joins you, but he said he was feeling under the weather today :(

just dance is a MUST 

Kyle and Kenny get really into it 

Stan definitely is the type just to move his arm 

"why are you guys doing the legs too, it only tracks the remote"

"it tracks you SPIRIT too Stan that's why you're fucking losing"

"you're literally in last place Kenny"

the night always ends with a funny or scary movie 

but tonight when you're setting up, a notification interrupts you 

Four phone's simultaneously erupt in the iconic bird tweet, screens around the room lighting up with the same words: 

ALERT: Villain activity has been spotted in the park! Unknown plants with spiked teeth have sprouted from the ground and have begun eating local teens. 

I went to grab my phone, squinting to see the words from the bright screen in the dark room.

"Dude, what the fuck-"

"I HAVE TO GO WATER MY PLANTS!" Kenny suddenly shouted, running out the door before any of us had a chance to react. 

I turned to look at Kyle but he'd already gotten up from the couch and was lacing up his shoes. 

He looked up and met my gaze, giving an apologetic smile before standing, "Sorry, yn, I just remembered I've got a paper due tomorrow and I've got to finish a few paragraphs still." He explained, rushing out the door in a similar style to Kenny. 

But Kyle finishes his papers a week before theyre due. why would he still need to write a few paragraphs?

"Do you know what's up with them?" I asked, turning to the kitchen where Stan was making popcorn. Well, was as in past tense. By the time I turned to the kitchen, Stan was gone with a bowl of popcorn sitting on the counter. 

Hearing the doorknob turn, I whipped my head around to see Stan halfway out the door. 

He paused with one foot out when he noticed my eyes on him.

"uh…" he trailed off, searching for the words for his reason, "We'll do this tomorrow! bye yn!" and with that, Stan Marsh shut the door and I was sitting alone in my apartment. 

What the fuck just happened?

Without anything else to do, I decided to put on my shoes as well and investigate what was happening in the park. I had a youtube channel to run, after all. And who knows, maybe I'll get some good superhero shots tonight!

Halfway to the park, my wish comes true. Through the sky, a blur of color speeds through the air. 

That’s got to be Human Kite!

I pull out my phone and aim it towards the sky, zooming in on his face as he looks down. Through the screen, I can see his eyes widen as his mouth moves in words I can’t hear. Suddenly, he’s nose diving towards the ground. I worry he’s going to crash but he pulled up at the last second and lands on his feet. 

"You really shouldn't be in this area, we don't know how far the plant problem has spread." He holds up a hand to block your camera as he speaks to you. Human Kite always was more camera shy than the others. It was rare that you got a good shot of him during your on-site reporting. 

God damnit, Kite, I’m trying to speak for the people here!

"That's exactly why I need to be here! how else are the people of south park going to know the true events!" You refute, moving the camera above his hand to refocus my frame. 

Down the street, a plant burst through the concrete, purple and green spotted head screaming at an ear piercing volume. The head lunged at a teen trying to escape on their bike, cutting off their cries of terror with a single chomp. 

“See that! That’s the type of truth the people of South Park need to see!” I exclaimed, leaning to the right to zoom in on the plant happily crunching on the teen as muffled cries of “oh god!” and “Why, Jesus! WHY!” echoed down the street. 

Human Kite stepped to the right, blocking my frame, “I’m serious, this area is extremely dangerous. You need to get as far away as-” The jaws of a mutant plant closed around him before the sentence could finish. I scrambled away from the plant, clutching my phone close to my heart in case it attempted to beat out of my chest. 

“NO!” A shout sounded from behind me. I spun with my camera to catch Toolshed rushing down the street with a weed wacker in hand. 

“KY- I MEAN KITE, HUMAN KITE!” He stuttered, likely due to the stress of watching your partner in crime fighting be eaten by a giant piranha plant. It was at this point he noticed you standing there, camera still held up to catch his expression shift. 

“Uh- Civilian! You need to get back!” He said, holding out an arm between me and the plant to push me back. I lifted my arms to keep my shot clear. 

“No, no, it’s alright! I’m just here to film this for the town! I’ll just be back here, this camera has a great zoom.” I flashed the snazzy camera setup in his direction before refocusing on the plant that ate Kite. 

Toolshed opened his mouth to protest but before he could, Professor Chaos emerged from behind the plant, maniacally cackling with arms outstretched as if to bask in his own villainous glory. 

Wow, this is a great shot. The people are going to love this. 

I focused my camera on the villain as he began to speak. 

“That’s right! I’ve captured the Human Kite within my carnivorous plants! And soon you will all be-” Chaos stopped his monologue as our eyes met. The devious smile shifted to a wide grin as he waved a tinfoil wrapped hand, “oh hey yn!” 

I gave a quick wave back, “Hey Chaos!” 

“Chaos? Oh yeah, CHAOS!” Professor Chaos snapped back into action, strutting around the plant which held the Human Kite as if it were the prize pig at the fair. 

“This is some of my best work yet! Months of experimenting have allowed me to develop the perfect containment for you stupid heroes! And soon, you’ll all be nothing but plant food!” 

A flash of darkness crossed my vision to my left. 

“You’ll never get away with this, Chaos.” Mysterion crouched atop a boulder, deep voice reverberating through the air. 

Holy shit it’s Mysterion! The viewers are going to love this!

The statement only made Professor Chaos laugh, “Never get away with this? But I already have! Half of the town is being digested in my plants of chaos and the other half is soon to follow!”

God damn, this is good. I can’t wait to tell the guys about this!

After professor chaos is defeated (like always), Mysterion leads to back to your apartment, chastising you for getting in the middle of another hero/villain altercation

At this point, you know the whole script he goes through about how “it’s really not safe” and “you can’t just run into a fight between superhumans” 

And you nod and say you’ll never do it again

But you totally will

The next day, you tell the guys all about it

But they all seem super tired for some reason

You asked Kyle what paper he had to write so suddenly and he responded that he wrote a philosophy paper’s due date wrong in his phone and only noticed when the Call Girl notification went out

Seems a little sketchy but okay

At the end of the day, they’re your friends and you love them

You all make plans to redo your sleepover that weekend! And Butters is able to come this time since he’s feeling better! 

#south park #corporatefrog #south park headcanons #south park x reader #south park imagines #butters stotch #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski #stan marsh