#flare watched a cat specifically go

[tsbs-darksun-confessions]

How are you today, Dark Sun? What have you been up to these past couple of days, though I know you're assisting with Flare so sorry if you're too busy to reply at the moment.

Oh it’s the cat questioner again

I’m doing alright, I caught wind of your ask after waking up for the day, spent quite a long time looking through Flare’s code last night

Other than the sudden coding issues, I’ve been living quite happily in my corner, the others don’t bother me so much you know?

The only thing of note was Flare’s marvel at the cat’s smarts

[rainrot4me]

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can. 

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong. 

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore. 

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too. 

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips. 

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously. 

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat. 

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body. 

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching. 

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest. 

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying. 

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot. 

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine. 

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute. 

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead. 

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager. 

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously. 

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage. 

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing? 

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

-

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing. 

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously. 

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least. 

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while. 

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary. 

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences. 

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

-

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes. 

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs. 

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement. 

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you. 

-

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t. 

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head. 

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing. 

-

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans. 

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement. 

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next. 

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down. 

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours. 

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now. 

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try. 

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them. 

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly. 

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers. 

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight. 

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands. 

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you. 

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other. 

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out. 

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him. 

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly. 

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked. 

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

-

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast. 

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. 

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[hellclipzzzzzzz]

how the different jojos take care of you when you're on your period

warnings: period talk, obviously, afab but gn talk

notes: i have endometriosis so my periods are more painful/irregular than others, that will be influencing this quite a bit. dio is going to be excluded because as much as I love him, we all know he would kick you to the curb if you started complaining. also this is part 2 joseph not part 3 or 4 lol ♡

♡ Jonathan Joestar

jonathan is probably the best equipped one to take care of you, in all honesty. he's strong and kind, and extremely understanding when it comes to your mood swings and odd cravings that pop up now and then. you want a specific dish? he's asking one of the cooks to make it for you. you want him to lay in bed with you? he curls his body around you and rubs your stomach gently, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. anything you want will be given right to you, and jonathan will be by your side to provide comfort whenever you need it.

♡ Joseph Joestar

he has no idea what he's doing. by the time he was old enough to even start to grasp what a period was, granny erina had already went through menopause, and the topic just never came up. he definetly thinks you're just being dramatic for a while, but still tries to take care of you in his own way. honestly, all you have to do is yell at him and threaten to hit him with your shoe and he's scampering away, doing whatever you'd told him to do. he holds the same respect for you as he does granny erina.

♡ Jotaro Kujo

he pretends he doesn't care. it frustrates him how clingy and moody you can be, and he acts like he's not going to be helpful at all, but he restocks your pads/tampons and painkiller stash without you even having to ask. he even has a notebook where he tracks your cycle and everything, like you're some kind of new starfish species. if you find it he says it's not his.

♡ Josuke Higashikata

he's the type to try and make you laugh while you're on your period. he's thought about using crazy diamond to help, but you managed to talk him out of it. any time your temper flares up he's looking at you like a pathetic wet cat on the street, complete with a wobbly bottom lip and tears. he's definetly got your favorite snacks stocked and gets up to microwave your heating pad every time it gets cold because it makes him sad to see you in pain. the type to yell "LEAVE MY BABY ALONE" at your uterus.

♡ Jolyne Cujoh

your periods bluetooth synced. sorry. you're both on your period at the same time and jotaro has to take care of you both. jolyne definetly gets more cuddly and cranky when she's on her period, so you spend most of the day in bed curled up and watching trash tv.

♡ Giorno Giovanna

another king that will buy you anything you need the second that you need it. he treats you like absolute royalty, and frankly everyone else is a little bit jealous of you, because even bruno gives giorno some slack when it's your time of the month. he does make sure you drink plenty of water, though.

♡ Johnny Joestar

he doesn't know what he's doing. he's stressed and doing his best but you asked him to go to the store and he asked what size pussy you needed. you're better off getting things yourself and just making johnny lay down with you and massage your back or stomach to help with the pain.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hello, I love your writing!! And the Kurt taking care of an overworked lover really melted my heart 🫠💕 could I ask for a similar prompt with Logan? He's my #1 X Men man. If this ptompt is too specific no worries, feel free to make it work within your own parameters- but I live with chronic pain/illness, so maybe it could be someone with a condition that flairing up and they refuse to rest/ask for help, making things worse, and Logan finally steps in, maybe scoops them up in his big arms and lovingly forces them to take a break? Logan has such a big protective heart under all his gruffness, and I think we need to see more of it in the Fandom.

💖 Love and Bless You 💖

Wolverine/GN!Reader UGH I love this request!! I hope it's okay that i didn't write about a specific illness, but describe a general chronic pain/mobility difficulty due to it. I need to write soft logan like this more often UGH- also, I was picturing the flirty Logan from Wolverine and the X-men here. He's infected my brain and I need more versions of him like that lol. TWS: Chronic pain/illness. flareups.

If there's one thing anyone knows about Logan, it's that's he's crazy observant, especially with that sniffer of his.

Sure me might not be able to smell when you're in pain, but I 100% thing that he just -knows- when something is off. It's like a sixth sense. Like you move in a particular way or eat your "fuck I hurt" food and he's on you like a goddamn bloodhound.

It doesn't matter how much you protest, or how much you fight him on it, he's not willing to budge when it comes to letting you rest- and if he can sneak in a few extra cuddles, or more time in bed with you, it's just a perk.

    Today has been a rough day since you woke up, and you knew it would most likely get worse. 

    You were having a bit of a flare-up. Well, you say a bit, in all actuality, it was an uphill battle from here. There was just something off the moment you woke up. Your joints were stiff and painful, everyday actions became a chore, and you were hurting much more than normal. But, if there was one thing about you everyone knew, it was that you were certainly stubborn. 

    You’re in the kitchen currently, resting at the table after popping a batch of cookies in the oven. Jubilee had been begging you to make her some sweet treats, and with her coming home from a rather long mission tomorrow, you decided to surprise her. Your body’s timing was… unfortunate, but there was no stopping you now. You were exhausted after making the dough, and rolling it into balls. After you had popped them in the oven you had painstakingly walked to the fridge to put the rest of the dough inside, muscles protesting each and every step. You had collapsed into the nearest chair, leaning your head back with a sigh, which is where you are now. You let your eyes drift closed as you wait for the timer to go off, relaxing into the seat.

    “Hey~” You jump at the sound of the voice, opening your eyes to see a smirking Logan, his arms draped across the back of your chair. You let out a huff, smiling at him. 

    “Hi Logan.” You say sweetly. One of his hands reaches down to run through your hair, and you feel like a cat as you eagerly lean into the touch.

    “How are you feeling?” He asks. You hum, grimacing at the question.

    “Fine?” You respond, an unsure tilt in your voice. Logan raises an eyebrow at you.

    “Don't bullshit me, sweetheart. I know somethings off.” Logan rumbles. You make a face, sitting up from the chair as normally as you can as the timer for the cookies goes off.

    “It's just a minor flare-up. It's fine, I'm fine. I have to finish baking these cookies for tomorrow anyway, so I don't really have a choice.” You say. If he sees the way you stumble a little, he doesn’t comment on it. Logan watches as you take a moment before you open the oven, resting against the counter. You realize that you may have gotten up from the chair just a little too fast as stars spot your eyes. After a minute of rest, hyper-aware of Logan’s eyes on you, you go for it. You barely crack the oven door open before Logan grabs you by the waist.

    “Alright, that's enough.” He says. You yelp as Logan drags you away from the oven. He takes the cookies out quickly before he turns around and immediately throws you over his shoulder. Your yelp is more of a screech this time.

    “Logan! Let me go- what are you doing?!” 

    “I'm not gonna stand back and watch you do this to yourself. I'm taking you to bed.” Logan huffs. He’s already walking you out of the kitchen and into the other parts of the mansion as you hit your palms against his back, trying to convince him to put you down.

    “But- I- the cookies!” You cry out. Logan has already gotten to your door opening it as he carries you inside.

    “I got it. Now just- relax.” He says, plopping you down on the bed. The action has you a little dizzy, and Logan leans in to kiss you on the forehead before he tucks you under the covers. 

    “I'm going to go get you some water and vitamins. Stay. Here.” You don’t have time to protest before he’s gone, having shut the door behind him. You want to get up and chase after him, tell him that you don’t need any special treatment and that you were fine on your own, but you’re not sure you can really run right now- and the comfort and warmth of your bed and covers are calling you like a goddamn siren song. 

    You drift in and out of consciousness in bed until Logan is back, with a glass of water and vitamins as promised. He hands you a flintstone gummy as he sits on the bed, and you can’t help but snicker. Logan rolls his eyes, still having delivered vitamins as promised.

    “What did you do about the cookies?” You ask as Logan peels back the covers to lie in the bed with you. He pulls you close as he settles in, rubbing his hands soothingly across the parts of you he knows tend to ache the most. 

    “I put a new batch in the oven. I’ll smell them when they’re ready.” He says. You roll your eyes at him, resting your head against his chest. 

    “Thank you, you know. Not just for the cookies, but… for caring.” You whisper. He huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you on the lips this time.

    “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Just rest.”

[artytaeh]

( ☆ ) : SLYTHERIN BOYS · BOOBSESSED HEADCANONS . 𖥔 ࣪˖

☆ before you read : obvious smut content ahead, hence why it's advised for minors to not read nor interact. the characters included are mattheo riddle, theodore nott and enzo berkshire. three more characters will be added on part two. 🎀

. 𖥔 ࣪˖ PT O1 | PT O2 [coming soon]

· MATTHEO THOMAS RIDDLE. ☆ a successfully converted man.

it's so funny how until now, mattheo riddle was absolutely sure that he was an ass type of guy. meaning, that in mattheo's eyes, he'd go into a full-on debate with theo for the sake of defending his truth: a woman's ass is her best feature. with his flings and other nightstands, mattheo delighted himself on slapping his calloused hands there, getting a few handprints here and there, watching as those slytherin girls strolled around the slytherin's common room with rolled up skirts.

then he met you. on that fatidical night. when his calloused, injured fingers brushed over your nipple—forcing a needy moan out of you, mattheo saw your back arch from such a simple action. suddenly, all of those heated debates with theo meant anything, and mattheo had to give the debate's victory to lorenzo, who always defended boobs supremacy.

THIS MAN WILL SHAMELESSLY STARE at your chest whenever he can. whenever he wants. wherever he is — mattheo riddle will snap his neck to the other side of the room, when he notices you've entered, so his dark eyes can have its orbs moving up and down briefly; his gaze following every bounce of your breasts, no matter the size, like a snake being hypnotized out of its basket.

you know that meme where someone puts sunglasses and says that they're wearing them so no one can realize what they're paying attention to? that's mattheo riddle. bent down. hands on his pockets, body lowered until his head levels up to your chest. staring shamelessly at your breasts. smiling and wetting his lips at the sight.

MATTHEO LAUGHS IF YOU SLAP the back of his head. you'd think that mattheo riddle's anger issues would flare at that, but seriously, mattheo does it because 1) it's a bloody angelic sight; 2) he loves to tease you. seeing you squirm, embarrassed and even upset, mattheo has this little guilty pleasure of adoring it all, making you angry so he can kiss the annoyance away.

WOULD LITERALLY MOAN AND CREAM HIS PANTS if one day you appear with nipple piercings. piercings as a whole are very attractive in mattheo's eyes, but there? it's the prettiest sight for him. screw those '7 wonders of the world'; he has you, without any shirt or bra, right there in front of him.

and when mattheo riddle remembers that these specific piercings are for his eyes only... oh, boy. you're in for a ride. he gets ridiculously possessive, but in a giddy way! will torment your chest with the biggest smug grin in the whole world, almost looking like a cheshire cat, trapping your nipple inside his mouth and rolling his tongue over the iron; mumbling, these are all fucking mine, the sound of his voice vibrating on your already sensitive skin. for my eyes only.

SOMETIMES LIKES TO FULL-ON GRAB THEM. mattheo suddenly snaps out of nowhere, moving towards you with a piercing gaze, determination on his eyes, and soon his hands cup your breasts. you'd complain at him sometimes; because sometimes, mattheo is a little stupid and squeezes the soft skin beneath his fingers with more strength than he should. he always apologizes, of course— and depending on the mood, he might give you that cheshire grin of his, asking if you want him to kiss it better.

but there are other times that, in a way, are more tender. you're hanging out in your dorm room, maybe reading a book, until mattheo takes the book off of your hands so he sneaks his way inside your blouse. yes, mattheo stays there. nonchalantly, too! head hidden there, feeling the warmth of your breasts against his cheek. it's heaven on earth for him, really.

☆ EXTRA: this man LOOOOVES to fuck you when you're wearing nothing but his quidditch's shirt or slytherin jersey. he'll roll it up to your chest, just enough so he can see your breasts bounce with each thrust. mattheo doesn't know if he should look away, bewitched by the sight, or if seeing you like this, moaning his name while you're wearing his uniform is too much for him to take. mattheo swears that one day, you'll drive him absolutely insane.

and if he's feeling silly... yeah, mattheo will lightly hold one on each hand, and dangle them gently. like a goddamn child, a gremlin-like laughter will be heard from mattheo, comparing your chest to twin jellies, doing this type of shit after he just rearranged your guts. having free pass to touch your boobs is a promised field day for mattheo—he won't get bored, i promise.

· THEODORE FAUSTUS NOTT. ☆ very proud worshipper of his fixation.

theodore's entertainment is deeply rooted in the way he can be intimately closer to you, touching and worshipping skin that only a selected few should be chosen to see, throughout your life. in every touch, each single praise murmured in foreign words you don't know and sweet nicknames, theo makes sure that other men will have to crawl to be comparable to him.

in a slightly more selfish way, theo also sees a pleasant way to deal with his oral fixation. didn't you ask him for a substitute for cigarettes? well—he has very few options that can rival nicotine. and if he can pleasure you, then that's just meant to be, right?

THEODORE IS A CULTURED, EDUCATED and knowledgeable man! — or at least, that's what he tries to convince you, upon being suspiciously asked why of all things in the world, theo told you in detail about the wonders of female anatomy. no, not mansplaining; it's just that he read somewhere that the chest area can be really sensitive to some women. supposedly, it can help coaxing into an orgasm, or even be enough to get you all wet and ready for him. naturally, you call it bullshit. but oh. oh, there it is. the so-feared, rarely seen openly competitiveness that gets theodore stubbornly on fire, currently fueled by your doubts of his capabilities.

and let me tell you that this man is good with his mouth.

ten minutes. half an hour, almost forty minutes. more than that, if he needs to; that mouth of his refuses to stop until you're barely babbling coherent sentences, his lips dividing the attention between one breast and the other, equally branding his ownership there. theodore nudges his way between your legs, his knee pressing on your middle and tease — not giving you the friction you need. his hands and fingers roam your body, tracing each curve to memorize the feeling of your body, but his lips, mouth and tongue never leave your chest. how is his mouth not sore and tired already?

if you ask that to yourself and commit the mistake of opening your eyes, lowering your gaze to see theo, those sinful blue eyes of his were already staring at you, drinking every moan and savouring the outcome of his dedication, theodore nott moans as soon as eye contact stubbornly remain, and he keeps his mouth there like a starved man. not only is theodore nott competitive, but also ridiculously patient to get the things he wants. in this case, getting you dry humping on his thigh and knee, while he shows you that yes, he can coax some sensitivity out of you.

THEO ADORES TO HAVE YOU SITTING on his lap, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from fleeing from his eager mouth. his free hand traces a featherlight path upwards, until theodore's long fingers reach the nape of her neck, combing through the waves of your hair until he grasps those strands, guiding you to meet his gaze. blue eyes, usually stormy with bottled up feelings, stare at you with an intensity that is comparable to an artist staring at a spectacular statue, out of those amazing monuments back at italy.

this position is a favorite of theo's for many reasons: first of all, its practicality; he specially likes to sink on his seat, an armchair if possible, so that his body doesn't sit so upright. guiding you with him, your torso bends over to him, hand on your upper back to keep you in place, restricting even the thought of leaning away from his face. whether you grind, ride or simply enjoy the feeling of him filling you so deeply to the core, that's a choice he'll let you make—for now, he gets to savor the softness of your chest weighing against his face—and bite your nipple when he wants you to start a rhythm.

BECAUSE HE'S STILL A BIG ENJOYER OF THIGHS, theo would never lose the spot between your legs as a preferred place to reside, whenever privacy allows it. thighs spread wide, theodore wants a good view of everything, not allowing you to feel an ounce of shame as soon as his tongue distracts you. eating you out is more than a favor or pleasantry for theo, taking pride in pleasuring his partner for as long as it takes—keeping eye contact as he places the most obscene kisses between your folds, licking and sucking like it was the very product of passion. sometimes, theo asks you to play with your chest as he does that, this sight being enough to coax theo into rubbing his erection on the sheets, getting off on eating you out while you play with yourself, his own fingers too busy for that.

☆ EXTRA: a discreet and secret collector of your underwear. taking off your panties in a secluded corner of the library, stealing the bra you were using before having sex, having a stash that is changed every week—hey, he doesn't want you to stress over lost lingerie. be it the cutest set or the most basic comfortable wear, theodore still finds it in himself to steal it for a while. definitely sniffs your bra and uses your panties to jerk off instead of using his own hand.

ON A LESS SEXUAL NOTE, because theodore only is that kind of pervert without prying eyes to witness you and him, theodore enjoys using your chest as a form of stress balls whenever he's going through a load of homework. with you sitting all pretty on his lap, theodore writes his history of magic's essay while squeezing one of your breasts with his free hand. really gentle about it, doesn't even try to make you horny—he knows that it's unfair to make you wait until he's done with his academics. it also helps to keep his mind away from his family's pressure.

· LORENZO CHARLES BERKSHIRE. ☆ a loyal, faithful believer.

lorenzo berkshire always was, and always will, be a boob type of man. it's an unspeakable wonder to him, and unironically, enzo will worship every single chest that is presented to him—it doesn't matter if you're a friend, a nightstand whose name he won't remember tomorrow, a girl he despises but found himself making out with, or his own girlfriend; it does not matter, because boobs are boobs, and lorenzo never shies away from the opportunity.

"oh, so does the size mat—" no. be it big, medium, small; lorenzo gladly takes the chance with greedy hands and that cheeky smirk that gets so many witches at hogwarts on their knees (figuratively and literally speaking).

ENZO WILL LITERALLY USE ANY AND EVERY EXCUSE to touch your breasts. contrary to mattheo, who's already the happiest just to see them even with clothes above, lorenzo will beg, plead, convince, whine, cry, flirt, present facts and create ridiculous motives to have his hand on your tits.

pansy, as lovely as she is, would make the error of oversharing one day with him at the slytherin's table at breakfast; pansy stabs her food with an annoyed frown, complaining about patriarchy and how it directly obligates her to wear bras. uncomfortable bras. and seriously, lorenzo is such a great friend that he listens attentively to all of pansy's complaints and even engages an indignant dialogue with her (as if that was a problem of his, so you can see how lorenzo truly empathizes), but—

but. where pansy sees a reason to get angry for the rest of the morning, lorenzo berkshire sees an opportunity. it almost looked like pansy had presented him with the solution to world's hunger, when enzo stands up, kisses her cheek with a loud 'thank you, you intelligent sneaky woman!', and immediately marches his way to you.

with a smile that you know all too well, lorenzo proudly marches to where you are. you're right to have a feeling of distrust—because really, what are the chances of having your boyfriend asking you: 'hey, is your bra uncomfortable? pansy told me about it. not your bra, hers; in a platonic way, obviously! anyways, i've been thinking— i should be a better boyfriend to you. which means, you really shouldn't have to wear bras. i can just hold them for you, look!' (and you watch in horror, as lorenzo raises his hands to you. then, he rubs his palms together, almost looking like a cartoon villain.) 'i can warm them up for you! or keep them cold during summer!' (and girl, if you slap him... to be honest, lorenzo won't even complain. he probably deserved it; he should have said his 'good morning's first.)

THOSE FLIRTY PICK-UP LINES HE USES ARE... terrible. should be illegal, even. it reaches a point where lorenzo is lucky to be this handsome and charming, otherwise you'd never give him the time of day anymore.

oh, these look heavy. allow me to be a gentleman and carry it for you? — berkshire, lorenzo. one of his worst ones. yes, he is referring to your breasts. yes, he would be in a full-on 24 hour delight where nothing can bother this blessed man.

sincerely GIVES UP ON TOPPING SOMETIMES. we know that lorenzo is a switch; and the sight of you riding him? oh, he loves it. he adores it even more, when you're telling him what to do; where to touch, using him as if he was a sex toy of yours. enzo never knows whether to watch your beautiful face contort into the most sinful blissed expressions, or to watch where you two connect, where you bounce on his groin, riding him—ultimately, lorenzo steals shameless glances at your breasts; and unless you tell him to do otherwise, he gets his hands and mouth there. all. the. time.

even with his mouth busy, lorenzo doesn't shut up. you can feel him smirking on your skin, how those lips of his curve into a cheeky smile, lips brushing on your sensitive skin as he moves his lips to talk, to whisper sweet nothings to you: 'so good for me, angel. pretty girl, you drive me insane.'

☆ EXTRA: likes finishing on your breasts. enzo will edge himself this one time, leave your tight grip a moment earlier so he can circle your nipple with this tip, until he's coloring your skin with his cum. definitely has a nearby polaroid to register the moment—yes, those wizardy photos, so he can see his cum drip down your skin, over and over again—only to use it as his little black book's bookmark. you're a forever favorite, alright?

© tysm for reading! messages and requests are always welcomed in my askbox. 🫂

[victorrv]

“YOU’RE NOT ACTUALLY THINKING OF DOING THAT AGAIN, ARE YOU, ACE?” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could get a hold of yourself. 

The redhead in question shot a look at you. “Obviously not! I was just joking.” 

A weary glance from Deuce was enough to turn both your and Ace’s attention elsewhere. It had been another one of those afternoons—you, Grim, and the Adeuce duo walking back to Heartslabyul to study for the upcoming finals. Crewel had been pestering the class to, word-for-word, “study, study, study, lest you pups want to pay for it.” And judging by the fact that it was Crewel alone, you knew he was being dead serious. The exams were no joke, especially at such a prestigious school, which caused some certain students to turn to others for help. A very specific group of ‘others.’

You knew that all too well, especially after both Ace and Deuce had signed a deal with Azul Ashengrotto, the campus’ self-proclaimed ‘businessman’, and promptly made into corporate slaves after failing to meet his contract’s standards. You’d thought that the experience alone would be enough to minimize talk of cheating, especially since it had happened less than a week ago, but this was Ace Trappola you were talking about. He was known for his quick thinking, not smart thinking. 

“Let’s just leave it alone,” Deuce relented hastily. You could tell he was still recovering from the experience, though it had been months. You could’ve sworn you heard Ace mumble ‘softie’ under his breath, but once you blinked everything returned to normal. Whatever normal was with Ace and Deuce. And Grim. Grim...? Wait, where was that little—

“Yeah! I’m hungry!” exclaimed a scratchy voice behind you, and you allowed yourself to relax. If Grim had somehow managed to sneak off again you would go on a manhunt to snatch the furball back. If anything, he should’ve provided you monetary compensation with how often he worried you, preferably in large sums. Crowley hadn’t give you jackshit since your untimely arrival.

With a barely suppressed sigh, you caught a flicker of blue fire in your peripheral as Grim sauntered next to you. Or had he floated? You could never tell how to describe things in this world, because something bizarre seemed to happen every other day. Except for the exams. No, they were as dull and boring as the ones back at home. 

“What is it now? Another can of tuna?” You said, unable to contain the lack of energy in your words as your mind flashed memories of all the incidents that had started off just like this in the past. “Or is it something else this time?”

“Actually, he has a point.” Ace suddenly cut in, a little too interested. “Let the cat speak.”

The flames on Grim’s ears flared up, a telltale sign that he was frustrated. Honestly, you would be too if you kept getting compared to something completely different to what you actually were. “I am not a cat! And I want a tart!” 

“A tart?” resounded from Deuce, looking confused. Typically, Grim would be pestering you about tuna, not that. But this was Grim after all. No stomach, no shame.

“Yeah!” Grim answered matter-of-factly, almost looking offended that someone had questioned him, “We’re going to Hatslabool anyway! So you can make me a tart!” 

“Heartslabyul,” Ace hastily corrected. “And what makes you think that we’re going to make you a tart?” 

“What else would you be doing?” refuted the feline, crossing his arms—er, paws.

You cut in, the answer seemingly obvious to you. “Studying?” 

Grim let out a groan, his face visibly sinking at the reminder. “Ugh, can’t that wait? Crewel isn’t going to be watching us.” 

Deuce huffed, clearly unimpressed at Grim’s so-called ‘superior intellect’. “If you want good grades, then you have to dedicate your time properly.” 

“Uh, what he said!” Ace seconded. 

“Yeah, what he said.” You furrowed your brows. “Besides, why do you want a tart so badly? Shouldn’t you be after tuna?”

“To eat it, of course! Tuna or not.” Grim responded quickly, his face brightening up at the prospect of food. Oh, Grim and his diet… or whatever it was even called. You sucked in a breath, mentally preparing yourself for the umpteenth time that day. 

By the time the four of you had finally arrived at the gates of Heartslabyul, Grim was convinced that he deserved a tart for himself after all of his, quote, ‘hard work’ that he’d done since he’d become a student at Night Raven College. When you asked him exactly what he had directly helped with, he didn’t answer. At least he was starting to become self-aware.

You followed the Adeuce duo into the lounge, Grim behind you. The red room was mostly empty, save for a few students lightly chatting in the background. Finally, you took a seat between Ace and Deuce on the couch before producing the class work Crewel had handed out earlier that day. 

“Damn,” Ace mumbled, flipping through the pages of his packet, “We have to memorize all this?”

You could make out the way Deuce’s expression grew less confident as he, too, scanned the contents of the packet. You would’ve almost felt sorry for the two if you weren’t also preparing for the final. With an internal groan, you took a once over Ace’s sheet, knowing that you would not be the same person after. 

You were correct. The page he was on was filled with complex diagrams and a colorful assortment of words and numbers, half of which with names that you were fully confident that you couldn’t even pronounce. Was this really only the first year here? You shuddered at the thought of what would await you in the future if you weren’t able to go home. 

You chose to look away from the depressing sight, meeting Grim’s bright eyes as he stared at the three of you lamenting over the paper. Sometimes you would forget that you and the feline technically counted as one student, and that he needed to study along with you to ensure that you wouldn’t fail and get kicked out by Crowley. 

“What are you doing?” You asked suddenly. 

“Nothing.” Grim responded, but it was clear that he was beginning to get nervous about studying. It was his dream to become a world-class mage, but obviously he didn’t anticipate studying to be part of the requirements. Or tests, for that matter. “So, henchman… tart?”

That was one thing that sounded more appealing now. You mulled over it for a moment. If anything, baking a tart right now seemed a lot better than trying to decipher whatever ancient language had been used to explain the concepts on that godforsaken packet. “You know what? Sure. Tart it is.”

“Really?” Grim exclaimed, a hopeful gleam appearing in his eyes, but quickly retracted his enthusiasm. “I mean, I knew you would come around.” He said haughtily.

“Yeah, yeah,” You murmured, unfazed by his back-and-forth attitude. You leaned towards the feline and gave him a light pat right between his ears. Grim was content for now, making no move to stop you from petting him. It was strange seeing the ‘cat’ nuzzle into your hand, at least to Ace, who’d abandoned looking over the packet in favor of gawking at Grim’s unexpectedly tame demeanor. 

“Wow, I guess the headmaster wasn’t kidding when he called you a beast master.” The redhead murmured, causing Grim to shoot him an unimpressed look. 

The ‘cat’ huffed incredulously. “You’re just jealous that [Name] likes me more!”

“Oi, where did that come from?” said Ace, a small frown on his face. For the most part, he looked disgruntled, but if you looked closer, there was an inkling of disappointment in his eyes. 

“Wait, why are you making him a tart?” Deuce questioned, raising an eyebrow. “We should study.”

“… Uh.” was all that came out of your mouth. Deuce was right, the four of you should’ve been studying, but a large part of you secretly wanted to procrastinate. You didn’t know shit about the packet or how to make tarts, but you’d choose the latter over studying any day. It was easier when Grim was nagging you about it as well. “I’m also hungry.”

Deuce was quick to propose an alternative, “We can get some snacks.” 

Your expression faltered. “I can help Grim make a tart.”

“None of us know how to bake, though,” Ace chimed in, a mischievous smile appearing on his face, “So why are you so eager for a tart, huh?”

“Just one tart?” You tried to reason, “Please? We can study after.”

Deuce looked like he was about to make the most important decision of his life. His eyebrows were strained together, and his gaze was set harshly between the three of you. Finally, he relented, a soft sigh pulling from his throat. “Fine, you three can make it. But I’m still going to study.”

            ***

That proclamation was quickly proven to be short-lived. Deuce did end up joining in on your shenanigans, but you already knew he would do so one way or the other. He was still reeling from the fact that store-bought eggs weren’t fertilized, so you and Ace had to crack the eggs by yourselves. Grim wasn’t allowed to help because you were 87% sure that he would break something in the process. 

The brunt of your knowledge about baking came from Trey, and that one time you all had made a chestnut tart together. Of course, that experience wasn’t all too pleasant, but here there was no pre-overblot Riddle ready to jump you for making something in the kitchen. Or more accurately, attempting to make something.  

Wordlessly, you shuffled around the kitchen, grabbing whatever you could find to craft the best (first) tart you could produce. It was fun, even if you had no prior knowledge about baking, and the fact that Grim was a potential fire hazard, but a good tart was a good tart. 

Ace lingered near the bowl on the countertop. The ginger took a whiff of the dough and his face almost immediately scrunched up. He was having second thoughts about this whole ‘let’s-go-bake-a-tart-for-no-reason’ thing, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Not when you and Grim were having so much fun. 

Deuce, on the other hand, was trying his best not to slip up on anything. He was carefully organizing and re-organizing the ingredients you’d gathered, mainly because he was afraid that he would mess up anything else he tried. It was imperative to the boy that he made sure that everything was perfectly on point with the recipe, even if that meant rotating a cup an inch clockwise. 

And then there was Grim. For once, he’d said nothing so far, and instead had taken to looming over your shoulder as you flipped through the pages of a worn cookbook you’d found discarded in one of the shelves. It was odd not hearing him comment on something every two minutes, but you really didn’t mind. If anything, making this tart was putting more stress on you than preparing for the finals.

“We’ve got to make the batter first,” you read aloud, “are the eggs, uh, ready yet?”

“Cracked and waiting,” Ace chirped, but it sounded more disturbing than reassuring. Really, there was no way you could get a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ out of this guy without him making it slam poetry or something else off putting.

“Uh-huh,” You hummed, walking over to where he was with the cookbook pried open in your hands. “Hey, Deuce, can you whisk the eggs? Ace and I will get the flour.” 

As Deuce started to pick apart how exactly to mix the eggs in the bowl, you and Ace started digging through the cabinets in search of a good bag of flour. Seeing as Trey was an avid baker himself, it didn’t take long to find one.

                                   ***

The day after that was not at all fun. As it turns out, Heartslabyul boasted a rule in which none of its students could eat a tart without the Housewarden’s permission. And to you and the Adeuce duo’s horror, you’d all eaten two each. Riddle had gone out of his way to fashion two bright collars around the poor boys’ necks, both of which they had spent the next two days wearing. Needless to say, Trey had snuck you a bite of his tart in secret, so it was a win-lose situation. 

Yeah, you were never going to try baking again. Not in Heartslabyul, at least.

[bunnymoon-phase]

Been chatting a bit with @wyervan and was particularly inspired by something about they said about the hot springs int he cave system that their Krampus Moon lived in UwU

EDIT: I should probably remember to mention this is slightly suggestive in nature!

“Are you coming in or not?”

You blink at the goat-man, glancing down at the water beneath him for only half a second before you remember yourself and look up again. Not that “up” helps very much—Moon is smirking at you, relaxed, his arms resting on either side of the pool. The coarse fur of his body sticks to him, wet, and steam rises from his body as much as it does the hot spring. His head tilts to the side, studying you, smug—you cross your arms and turn away. “Definitely not.”

Moon makes a noise low in his throat, something amused, and the sloshing of water follows. “Stubborn.”

You’re about to say something about pots and kettles when the sight of his discarded pants, folded neatly beside the edge of the pool and a cluster of ribboned bells, derails your train of thought. It was only a suspicion before but the evidence is right in front of you now, speeding your heartbeat. You glance at him, surprised, and see that he’s actually shifted closer to you. “Are you... wearing anything in there?”

His tail, de-belled, swishes across the surface of the water. “Do you wear clothes in the bath?”

Your face, still chilled from the cold outside, flares with warmth. You twist your head to the side so quickly that your neck pops, and fix your gaze on a specific spot on the cave wall where the jutting rock casts a cat-like shape in shadow that ripples in the firelight. You definitely weren’t getting into the water now—even if it seemed like a nice idea to your perpetually aching back. In fact, you definitely weren’t even more tempted to get in after finding out he was naked! How ridiculous would that be? Moon was a creature easily twice your height if he stood up straight—even if his waist and hips were narrow enough to seem closer to that of a normal human, his other proportions were dramatically oversized. Like his hands, large enough to wrap around you entirely!

…you weren’t doing a good job of making any part of the scenario you were presented with less appealing.

More of the silky sound of moving water, accompanied by Moon’s rolling, purring rasp. “Silly ideas of modesty. You humans always forget that you’re still just animals.”

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from answering that you have never been as keenly aware of the animal within you as you were at that exact moment.

Before you can think of a response that doesn’t expose you like a ripped pair of jeans, Moon’s hand encompasses your waist just as you had envisioned a moment before and you found yourself tilting and falling and suddenly very warm and very wet. Moon had pulled you into the hot spring, clothes and all.

You gape at the cackling creature as he sinks chin-deep into the water, looking very self satisfied, and grab him by the horn with a sopping mitten.

“Asshole!” you accuse, and watch his grin only widen. “I don't have anything else to wear! My clothes are going to freeze to my skin!”

“They won’t,” Moon tosses his head, effortlessly breaking your grip on his horn and casting your hand aside. “Fire.”

The flames from the fireplace glitter in his dark eyes, mirroring the heat you feel in your own cheeks. You could lay your clothes by the fire to dry them, true, but you’d… have to take them off, for that.

Your internal battle is short lived. There really isn’t an alternative.

“Fine,” you spit, then soften. “Turn around?”

Moon, obliging your uncharacteristic timidity, turns 180 degrees to allow you your privacy. You strip your clothing off while still in the water, ringing then out as best you can and draining the wetness into the pool. You debate leaving your underwear on, but the risk of your damp drawers freezing to your ass the next time you leave the cave is not one you want to take. You only hop out of the pool long enough to run your clothes to the fireplace and lay them out in front of it, the steamy, warm air of the cave chilly to your slick, reddened skin.

A glance at Moon as you scurry back into the warmth of the hot spring reveals that he hasn’t peeked, still facing away from you, resting his chin on folded arms atop the edge of the pool, eyes closed. His face is the picture of blissful relaxation, and looking at him so content only emphasizes the relief of slipping back into the heat yourself.

He, perhaps, had a point about the whole “hot spring” business. But like hell were you going to admit that now that he’d soaked your clothes.

You splash his face spitefully. “Bastard.”

He only opens one eye, expression slipping from tranquility to mild irritation. “Brat.”

Despite the warmth of the spring, a shiver runs through you, and you turn resolutely away from him again as you are reminded that you are both naked, and in very close proximity.

Moon takes advantage of your distraction, splashing you with a bigger wave that hits your face and hair. He’s grinning when you glare at him, and cackles when your attempt to get him back results in a piddly baby-sized wave. Smug son of a bitch.

[delicateartisantrash]

i have a weird and personal question, as you have cats.....do you meow? Like, have a habit of occasionally meowing? Growing up while i didn't have cats our house was typically haunted by strays and i somehow... Picked the habit of meowing exactly like a cat, me and my brother, too. We meow all day. We meow at each other. We meow at our family. We meow at cats (unfamiliar cats give us the strangest look ever). At this point when a meow is heard our family is confused if it's actually a cat or me or my brother. That day i met my aunt in front of a showroom we were gonna buy a fridge from....the guy here opened the door for us, and standing on the doorstep, watching her approach, I just go: "Meow!" and she meows back at me without any hesitation or awkwardness. In public.

We are just like that.

As it happens, i do!

I also whistle, chirp, growl, hiss, I've woofed and yipped while talking to dogs, snorted like a horse, and I've picked up an absurd amount of body language and habits i didn't even realize came from my animal family until much later in life. I pick up their language even easier than i pick up the languages of people around me. Other species are rarely dishonest, which makes studying their meanings behind different behaviors much easier and quicker to understand. If they're upset, I'm gonna know it. If they're content, I'm gonna know it. They're very consistent.

I mimic horses very easily and perhaps most readily. I had an ex who drew my attention to the fact my nostrils flare and emote like a horse does, which clued him in on my moods, and I've been self conscious about that ever since. Ope.

I genuinely find body language easier to converse in than spoken or written words often times. Don't get me wrong, words are super important, but so MUCH can be conveyed with just the way someone holds themselves.

My first home as an adult out of school was a one room tiny house i lived in with my first parrot, Chicken. I spent so much time chatting with him and learning his whistles and developing our own vocabulary of sounds, that i had to consciously remember not to default to them in other settings 😂 i still slip up and have a habit of whistling the "hello I'm here hiiii" greeting at people, particularly family and close friends, now and then.

yes, I've gotten many confused looks. Some of my friends will whistle back xD

Meows are aaaaaall the time. I made friends with strays and other peoples' cats when i was young and all growing up, so u was honestly already speaking cat before i adopted kitties. Now it's even more commonplace xD

I've absolutely cussed my Symbiotes out in cat hisses before to scold them as needed.

my kitties have taught me certain tones of sounds mean different things to them. If i make a specific noise, it'll ask them to come over. I can tell when they're complaining or when they're just saying hello and being chatty, i can tell when they're annoyed or disinterested.

And, of course, the FEEEEEED MEEEEEE meow-trill xD

[friendship-bracelet-collection]

Memes and fun bracelets

And then we got to some of the last bracelets in my collection for now. This is a mix of memes, general words like Phandom, and the lone bracelets that doesn't really go into any specific sets.

Starting out with a fun one is a few rings! I made more but have given them away to friends. The black one says PINOF in morse code!!!

Then there's PHAN and PHANDOM made with rainbow pattern! These I would like to make more of in the future.

Golden Pig is the first one I made before I got pig charms, so this is just fully gold beads of different kinds.

Legalise Catboys is made with pony beads, where the white ones are glow-in-the-dark. And the cat beads i got from my friend Percy.

Phaby is silver because i wanted it to be. Whoever gets this bracelets also get a loose baby, cuz i couldn't get them to be charms.

Some Nostalgia bracelets:

Placenta is a remake of one I made for the Danish show, and I chose dark red glass beads because a placenta is bloody.

BBC Radio 1 is red cuz that's the colour I think of when I head BBC1, prolly because of the BBC Play logo when I watched Doctor Who.

Square Hair is meming on Phil's hair on that gameshow. I had square wooden beads in matching colour to Phil's dyed hair and Dans mop of hair. The pattern in the beads here is taken from Dans shirt:

Vegas Vlog is based on the non existing Las Vegas Vlog, and the colours are taking from the Welcome to Las Vegas sign.

Emo Hair is just black beads because of the emo hair both of them had.

The Hand is cream because its close to a pale skin colour. I made this one because I spitted the hand charm on a random pair of thrifted earrings.

Top Dan Memes is black for Dan's branding, with a few red beads because that's usually the colour people use when doing top of something lists.

Ranch is white in different sizes with two shades of green mixed in to look like ranch dressing. I'm very proud of this one.

Slit is glassy silver all around with stars on because like phaby, i just thought it fitted.

Rat Boy Summer is based on the shirt Phil wore last summer. I added a colourful bow for a little flare, as well as an ice cream to really hit home that it's a summer themed one. The Hello Kitty beads are for Dan, and the normal small beads are just chosen at random to be colourful.

Superglue is white in different sizes and shades, which I copied off of a bracelet I traded to at the Danish show, but they had used heart shaped letter beads.

Dip & Pip is just a bracelet for the new nick names they have gotten. I used the turquoise beads I had because it paired nicely with the green i used too.

Lastly, here's one based on the Dan And Phil Beats logo. The colours pulled from the logo got used in the letter beads and the hearts the rest of the beads are pure white to make the colours stand out.

[rainisawriter]

One Day, You’ll Be Mine – Hitsugaya (PSF #12)

Ficography

Genre: Fluff, comedy

Prompt: Fire&Ice (@flufftober)

Word Count: 5,879

Pairing: Reader x Hitsugaya

World: Bleach

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You never believed in love at first sight until you met Hitsugaya Toushirou. The second those beautiful teal eyes met yours, you were hooked, willing to give him whatever he wanted. Hell, if Yoruichi hadn’t been there to stop you, you would have willingly surrendered to him.

The thing is, he didn’t feel the same way. It was quite the opposite, actually.

You had been with Ichigo’s group when they broke into the Soul Society to save Rukia and you had the bad luck of running into Hitsugaya not once, but twice. The first time was purely by accident. 

You had been trying to find your way, completely lost within the maze of pathways, and you ran right into him. Or perhaps he had stumbled upon you and seized the opportunity before him.

The second your eyes met, you felt a swarm of butterflies inside your gut. Your heart raced within your chest, but it wasn’t fear at facing down a captain. It wasn’t excitement at getting to fight a captain, either. What was it, then? You had this strong urge to protect him despite him needing no such thing.

Hitsugaya Toushirou was a captain with an incredible zanpakuto. He was not someone that needed to be protected, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to.

“I don’t want to fight you,” you told him, holding your hands up in surrender.

His teal eyes narrowed at you suspiciously. You had broken into the Soul Society, taken out many soul reapers and caused a lot of damage, yet you didn’t want to fight? He wasn’t buying it. “Then surrender.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, stepping closer to him. “I surrender.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. You had come all this way, caused all this trouble, just to surrender? He wasn’t buying that, either. He believed it had to be a trick.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“None of your business.” He replied, lifting his hand. “Bakudo number 4, Hainawa!” A rope of yellow energy shot from his hand, rushing toward you with the intention of restraining your arms.

“What are you doing, idiot?!”

You grunted when Yoruichi, still in cat form, barreled into you, knocking you out of the way before the spell could reach you. You scowled at her, rubbing your side where she had headbutted you. “What the hell, Yoru? That hurt!”

“Good!” She hissed, yellow eyes focused on the captain that was watching the two of you closely. “I specifically told you not to fight with the captains. You’re too reckless, you and Ichigo both!”

“I wasn’t even fighting him! I was surrendering.”

“That’s worse!” She hissed again, fur raised as she raised her paw, swiping her claws across your face.

“Motherfu -” you winced, covering your cheek with your hand. “That was uncalled for!”

Her eyes snapped to the male seconds before he appeared in front of you, unsheathing his zanpakuto. Your body reacted on instinct, pulling your zanpakuto from your hip to block the blow, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing through the open area.

“We need to go,” growled Yoruichi as she jumped onto your shoulder. “Now!”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, focusing your power. Flames erupted across the blade, extending toward him. He reacted quickly, using shunpo to put distance between the two of you. Within that short span of time, you had disappeared.

The second time you ran into him was during his battle with Ichimaru Gin. 

Rather than running into him by accident, you had felt his reiatsu flaring and rushed toward him without a second thought. As soon as you saw the two exchanging blows, anger coursed through you, your reiatsu fluctuating in reaction to it. This caught the attention of both men.

Despite Yoruichi yelling at you not to, you charged at Gin, eyes flaring red as flames engulfed your zanpakuto. 

“Get the fuck away from him, you bastard!” You growled, slamming your sword against his. The flames shot from the sword as if they had a mind of their own, attacking him relentlessly but he dodged each time, a smirk on his lips.

“How curious. Why is the enemy protecting you, captain Hitsugaya?” questioned Gin, an amused tilt to his voice.

Hitsugaya couldn’t answer that, he could only watch you in confusion as you continued to attack Gin, your power steadily rising with each attack. He was toying with you, you knew, and that pissed you off more.

“Bakudo number one, Sai!”

Against your will, your body twisted, arms locking behind your back. Your zanpakuto hit the ground and you cursed in frustration.

“Thank you for the assist.” Gin’s smirk widened. “This will be easier now. Shoot to kill, Shinso.”

Your eyes widened as the blade of his zanpakuto extended rapidly toward you, giving you no time to react. Hitsugaya appeared behind you, grabbing you by the back of your shirt before using shunpo to dodge. The blade broke through the concrete where you had been just seconds ago.

“The enemy is restrained,” snapped Hitsugaya, glaring at the silverette. “Murder is uncalled for.”

He hummed, tilting his head to the side. “We were given the okay to kill on sight. Have you forgotten? Or perhaps… you’re working with the enemy.”

You scoffed. “He ain’t working with me. I work alone!”

“Oh? So you didn’t arrive with five others?”

Your eye twitched at being caught in a lie. “It’s cheaper to travel in a group!”

Gin laughed at the absurdity of the statement. 

“Stop talking,” Hitsugaya muttered to you, clutching your shirt tighter.

Despite the insults you wanted to throw at Gin, you did as you were told, pursing your lips. Without a word, Gin turned on his heel and started to walk away.

“Hopefully, you don’t let the enemy escape a second time, captain Hitsugaya.”

When he was finally gone, Hitsugaya released the breath he had been holding. It was cold against the back of your neck, bringing goosebumps to your skin.

“Thank you for saving me, Hitsugaya,” you told him softly, tilting your head back so you could see him.

“Captain Hitsugaya,” he corrected you with a scowl, making you grin.

“Like captain Jack Sparrow!”

“Who?” His brow furrowed in confusion, having never heard the name before. 

“When we finally start dating, I’ll show the movies to you. I bet you’ll love them.”

His pale cheeks turned red at your declaration. “W-What are you talking about?! We will never date!”

You pouted at him. “Don’t be like that, Hitsu.”

“My name is Hitsugaya Toushirou! Not Hitsu!”

Your eyes lit up and you quickly turned around to face him. “Rou-chan! How cute~!”

His blush darkened, a scowl on his lips. “Captain Hitsugaya!”

“Yes, yes,” you nodded. “It’s a very beautiful name.”

“S-Shut up!” He stuttered, turning his back to you in an attempt to hide how flustered he had become. He wasn’t used to anyone flirting with him or complimenting him and he wasn’t sure how to feel.

You didn’t fight him when he escorted you to the prison, you were just happy to be so close to him. He smelled like mint and vanilla, his body cooler than most people’s were. On the way, you kept stepping closer to him because you enjoyed the cold that his body offered, but he continually pushed you away, sending empty threats your way.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You poked your head into Hitsugaya’s room, checking for any guards before you slipped inside. His upper body was covered by bandages. You had heard that he was seriously injured, but you weren’t sure to what degree and no one would answer you when you asked.

You approached his bed slowly, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He was already a beautiful man, but when he was sleeping? He was absolutely stunning. He looked so peaceful and relaxed, a welcome change from the calculating expression he usually wore.

You reached out, the tips of your fingers just barely brushing against his pale skin when his hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist. His eyes slowly opened and he glared at you, though it was half-hearted as if he didn’t have the energy to glare at you properly.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he grunted, voice husky from a mix of sleep and pain.

“Are you okay?” You frowned, eyeing the bandages across his chest. “What happened?”

He exhaled sharply, releasing your wrist. “None of your business.”

You clicked your tongue, folding your arms over your chest. “Still so cold, Rou-chan.”

Teal eyes narrowed at you, a scowl on his lips. “How many times do I have to tell you not to -” His words died when he clenched his teeth, wincing in pain.

“Calm down,” you scolded, resting your hand against his shoulder. “You’re gonna reopen your wounds.”

“I’m fine.”

“I definitely believe you, babe.”

Whatever retort he had died in his throat with that one word, cheeks burning bright red. He sputtered, eyes wide as his brain tried to process this. Before he could, though, there was a sudden murderous aura behind you.

Your body tensed up and you swallowed hard, feeling a heavy hand land on your shoulder. 

Unohana was smiling despite the dark aura surrounding her. “You were told that captain Hitsugaya needs his rest, were you not?”

“Yes…”

“And you were repeatedly told not to bother him, were you not?”

You winced when her grip tightened. “Yes…”

“Yet here you are, bothering captain Hitsugaya and preventing him from resting.”

“I just wanted to see him,” you scowled. “If you had just told me – ow!”

“I don’t have to tell you anything, dear.” She tilted her head to the side, offering you a closed-eye smile as she nearly broke your shoulder. “Now, you’re going to do as you’re told and return to your friends, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Great.”

“Can I at least say goodbye fir -“

“No.” She tugged you roughly toward the door, forcing you out of the room.

You looked over your shoulder, meeting Hitsugaya’s teal eyes before the door shut in your face.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You sighed heavily, slumping over your desk with a frown.

Ichigo, sitting at the desk in front of you, felt his eye twitch in annoyance. “If you sigh one more time, I’m going to throw you out the window.”

“I miss him,” you muttered. “I want to go back.”

It was his turn to sigh now, shifting in his seat so he could look at you. “You know you can’t. He’s a soul reapers, the relationship would never work.”

You groaned, smacking your head against the desk repeatedly. “Life isn’t fair~”

“Will you stop that, idiot?” He scowled, grabbing the back of your shirt and forcing you to sit up. “You don’t even know him, how can you be so in love with him?”

“I don’t know,” you frowned, feeling your heart ache, longing to be near him again. “It’s like he put a spell on me or something. I love him so much that it hurts, Ichigo.”

The orange-haired teen frowned at the pain in your eyes, not sure how he could help you. “You gotta move on. We’ll probably never even see them aga-“

The door of the classroom was shoved open before Ikkaku, Yumichika, Rangiku, Renji and, finally, Hitsugaya entered the room, wearing the school’s uniform. As soon as you saw him, it felt as if everything else disappeared. It was just the two of you in the universe.

Your heart raced with excitement, the breath leaving your lungs as you rushed forward, nearly tripping in your haste. “Rou-chan!” You threw your arms around him, holding him protectively against your body despite his protests. 

The use of the nickname, the fact that his feet were dangling above the ground because of the height difference, and the hug itself was overwhelming to him, especially since everyone was staring in surprise. His cheeks were burning, brain failing to form words.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into his ear, fingers curling around his shirt. “I thought I would never see you again, I…”

His brow furrowed at the raw emotion in your voice and he didn’t miss the slight tremble it held at the end. He had given it a lot of thought since your first meeting and yet, he was no closer to finding an answer to the questions in his mind. He simply could not understand why you were so attached to him.

If he was being honest, a part of him liked it. It filled his belly with warmth and removed the tension from his shoulders. He knew you were an ally he could count on one hundred percent and that was comforting to him. 

The more rational part of his brain, however, screamed at him to push you away. You were human, he was a soul reaper. You would grow old and eventually die, he would not. Not to mention the fact that it was against the law of the Soul Society for a soul reaper to fall in love with a human.

Despite how badly you desired him, he knew he had to be the rational one. Putting on an annoyed scowl, he pushed you away, teal eyes darkening. “Do not touch me again and stop calling me that ridiculous name!” His fists clenched at his sides, preparing himself for what he was about to do. “You are the single most annoying person I’ve ever met and I can’t stand you.”

Your eyes widened, filled with so much hurt that he had to look away.

“I will never love you,” he hissed before leaving the room. He could feel the pain rolling off you in waves as he walked away and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. He regretted it as soon as the words passed his lips, but he knew this was the right thing to do. 

He was the rational one, the one who thought about the consequences before diving in, so he had to be the one to put a stop to this before it went any farther. Before he fell harder for you.

“Shit,” he cursed, leaning his hand on the wall and closing his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he believed you had taken his heart with you when you returned to the world of the living. He feared it was too late to take it back.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Get the hell up!” The door to your bedroom was slammed open by a scowling Ichigo.

“Let me die,” you muttered, the words muffled by the pillow your face was stuffed against. It had been almost a week since you stopped going to school. Hell, you hadn’t even left your room and he was sure you hadn’t been eating, either, which was very concerning because he knew how much you loved food.

He scoffed, stepping farther into the room with his arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is that going to solve?”

You shifted your head to look at him, dark bags under your eyes. “If I’m dead, I can’t feel the pain anymore.”

“Dumbass!” He snapped, smacking you hard upside the head.

“What the hell?!” You scowled, sitting up and holding your head. “Who goes and hits a depressed person?! Are you dumb?”

“You’re the dumb one! Your pain may end, but what about the people you leave behind, huh? Think about their pain!”

You winced at the pain in his voice, knowing he was thinking about his mom who had sacrificed herself to save his life. “I’m sorry, Ichigo…”

He swallowed, running a hand through his short hair. “It’s fine. I’m used to you saying dumb shit.”

“Rude,” you scoffed, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Have you heard some of the shit you’ve said? You’re no better than me, man.”

“At least I have moments where I say something smart,” he teased, making you laugh. 

Once you started, you couldn’t stop, clutching your stomach. It was contagious, apparently, because he started to laugh, too. 

Out in the hall, Hitsugaya leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. When he heard what you said, dread and fear filled him. He felt guilty because he knew he was the cause of your pain, his resolve beginning to falter. Why did he long to be the one comforting you? Why did he feel jealous of Ichigo making you laugh?

He swallowed hard, leaning his head back against the wall. He was losing control of his emotions and he hated it.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You and Hitsugaya were complete opposites in every conceivable way.

He was the type to take a step back, calculating the risks of whatever lay in front of him. He preferred having a plan, knowing something about the enemy before rushing blindly forward. His zanpakuto was an ice type and his personality reflected this, often appearing cold to others.

He was also a genius and there were few things he couldn’t solve. He remained calm and collected under most circumstances.

You were the type to rush forward without thinking, relying on your power and instincts to tackle whatever situation you found yourself in. You didn’t give a damn about who the enemy was or what power they had, you would still face them head-on. Your zanpakuto was a fire type and your personality reflected this, quick to anger and always heated.

You were far from a genius, often misreading queues and unable to solve a puzzle to save your damn life. Calm was not a word that existed in your vocabulary.

He often felt frustrated by your actions and your constant simping over him. He just wanted you to leave him alone, but you were completely infatuated by him. 

You didn’t like believing in fate or destiny, but he changed all that. You were convinced that fate had led you into his arms, that you were meant to be. He was your soulmate.

Hitsugaya refused to believe in such things. He preferred to forge his own path, make his own choices. The thought that someone or something had charted the course of his life already was annoying and he refused to accept it.

He was not going to give in to you, no matter what happened. That’s what he repeated like a mantra inside his head every time he saw you. 

And then fate intervened in the form of one Urahara Kisuke. Yoruichi had informed him about what had taken place between you and the snow-haired captain and, since he was quite fond of you, he chose to lend you a helping hand. He insisted that Hitsugaya stay at your apartment while he remained in the world of the living.

The captain adamantly declined, but no one else was willing to house him after Urahara had told them not to. He could have easily survived on his own, but he chose to use this as an excuse, acting as if he really had no choice but to stay with you.

He had expected you to be over the moon at this, clinging to him like mold on cheese. You surprised him by not doing this. You gave him space and when you spoke to him, you did so cautiously, not wanting to upset him again.

You realized you had been coming on way too strong which made him uncomfortable. Despite how badly your heart longed for him, you didn’t want to make him feel negative emotions so you did your best to control yourself. To your credit, you did well, slipping up only when you were excited or super worried about something.

Hitsugaya didn’t know how to feel. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? Why, then, did he long for you to hug him? To engulf his smaller body with your own? To see your lips form that nickname, to hear your voice speak it? It was driving him insane because he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

You stifled a yawn as you climbed the stairs, stepping out onto the roof of your apartment building. The night sky was filled with stars, twinkling like tiny diamonds against black velvet. The autumn air was cold, the wind harsher up here than it was on the ground. You should have grabbed a coat.

Hitsugaya sat on the edge, his back against a metal air duct that ran across the length of the roof. His eyes were trained on the cell phone in his hand, keeping watch for any sign of hollow activity. He sensed you the moment you appeared.

“You should be asleep,” he scolded, not bothering to look up at you as you approached.

“How can I sleep if you’re not by my side?” You gave him a tired smile before settling down across from him.

He scoffed, a light dusting of pink crossing his cheeks.

You peered out at the city below. “It’s so peaceful up here. Hard to imagine a war is on the way.”

“Yeah.” His teal eyes fell on you when the wind picked up, feeling like ice against his skin. It didn’t bother him, of course, but he worried about you. “Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna,” you hummed, closing your eyes as goosebumps rose across your exposed skin. “I like the cold. It’s comforting.”

The words went straight to his heart, knowing the underlying meaning of those words. He tried to sound firm, but he knew his tone was softer than he intended. “It wasn’t a request, it was an order.”

You pouted at him. “Ordering me around like one of your subordinates, how mean, Hitsugaya.”

He winced at the use of his last name. He hated it coming from your lips and wished you would return to calling him Rou or even just Toushirou. “What are you doing?”

You stretched out your body across the roof, feet nearly touching his own. Using your arms behind your head like a pillow, you closed your eyes. “You told me to go to sleep, so I’m going to sleep.”

“I meant inside!”

“You didn’t say that, though.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was everyone in his life so damn complicated? “I’ll make you a deal.”

You opened one eye, peering at him curiously. “I’m listening.”

“Go inside and sleep in your bed,” he stressed, eyes narrowed at you. “And I’ll let you call me Rou.”

You shot up, wide eyes practically sparkling under the light of the moon above. “Really?”

Seeing how excited you were made him feel happy and he had to force back his smile. Honestly, the deal was just as much for himself as it was for you. “Yes.”

“No takebacks?” 

Hitsugaya nodded.

“Pinky promise!” You held out your pinky, sending him a serious look.

“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion, blinking at your outstretched pinky. 

“A pinky promise is a binding contract. You can’t break it, no matter what,” you grinned, wagging your pinky at him. “Come on, Rou-chan~”

He sucked in a breath, heart fluttering at the nickname. It felt childish, but he leaned forward and locked his pinky around your own. “Pinky promise. Now go to bed.”

“Fine. Good night, Rou-chan.”

“Good night.” He watched you disappear back inside, finally letting his smile free. His hand rested over his heart, racing within his ribcage. “What the hell have you done to me?”

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

Two years passed by and the two of you only grew closer, much to the amusement of everyone around you who were all taking bets on how long it would be before the snow-haired captain finally broke. He was stubborn as all hell, but even he had his limits.

You had managed to bribe Urahara into sneaking you into the Soul Society so you could see Hitsugaya. The problem with this was that stealth was far from a strength you had and many soul reapers spotted you as you ran atop the buildings. The lower ranked ran to their superiors who just laughed it off, knowing full well why you had appeared.

You really didn’t mean to startle him when you threw open the door to his office, screaming his name. Perhaps it wasn’t the best approach because he jumped in surprise, papers flying everywhere.

“Oops, sorry,” you offered him a sheepish smile before beginning to gather the papers.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He snapped, teal eyes narrowed at you. “How did you get here?”

“Urahara helped me,” you replied simply, setting the stack back onto his desk. “As for the why, well, I missed you.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. What didn’t you understand about how dangerous this was? Humans are not supposed to have feelings for a soul reaper. Though the feelings themself were not a crime, if anyone thought you were dating each other, you would probably be killed. He couldn’t bear the thought but you didn’t seem to care so long as you got to see him.

“Captain, is something – oh,” Matsumoto appeared in the doorway, smiling warmly when she saw you. She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you and squishing your face against her large boobs. “I’m so happy to see you again! How are you?!”

“Can’t… breathe…” you muttered, patting her arm repeatedly to try and get her to let you go.

“Oops,” she giggled, finally releasing you. “Sorry about that. I forget how powerful my girls can be sometimes!”

You snorted at the comment.

“Matsumoto,” called Hitsugaya, his voice stern.

“Yes, captain?”

“Take her home.”

“But I just got here,” you complained, frowning at the short male. “Rou-chan, I just want to -“

“I don’t care.” He closed his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. He had to put his foot down before you ended up getting both of you killed. “You are not allowed to come back here. That’s an order.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, shoulders slumping. You wouldn’t fight back, though. Without another word, you turned and left the room. Matsumoto sent her captain a frown before rushing to catch up to you.

“Are you okay, hun?” She asked softly, resting her hand on your shoulder.

You shrugged, stuffing your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. “I thought he was finally starting to like me, ya know? I thought…” you shook your head, forcing a smile. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to see me, I get it.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“Yeah…”

Hitsugaya wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when you didn’t show up again. In all the time he’s known you, you’ve always followed his orders even if you didn’t agree with them. You were completely loyal to him, after all.

He regretted the decision to send you away. A part of him longed to hold you, to have you run your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. He longed to be engulfed by your scent, your warmth. 

“Damn it,” he muttered, setting the paper down and rubbing his eyes. He had been trying to read the damned thing for over an hour but he hadn’t retained any of the information, his mind too wrapped up with thoughts of you.

It was then that he decided he would come to you instead. There was always work to be done in the world of the living, though captains were rarely ever the ones to be sent to deal with it. He had leeway, though, and could find a plethora of excuses as to why his presence was needed there.

For someone as straight-laced as him, no one questioned the request.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

“Please be careful!”

You looked down at the small child standing at the base of the tree, tears filling her eyes as she looked up at you. You offered her a reassuring smile and a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, I got this!”

The this in question was climbing a large tree in order to save the girl’s cat that had been scared up there by a few rude boys in her class. The branches were completely bare, their leaves lying in piles of orange and brown at the base of the tree. The farther up you climbed, the thinner the branches became, threatening to break under your weight.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” you called softly. The small feline was trembling near the top of the tree, its claws dug deep into the wood and its eyes wide. “I’m here to help you, don’t worry.”

Its frightened meow only spurred you on.

You huffed out, pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes as you extended your arm upward. You carefully grabbed the scruff of its neck with one hand, using the other to dislodge its claws from the wood. 

“I’ve got you, you’re safe,” you breathed out, bringing the kitten to your chest. It was breathing heavily, claws digging into your skin through the t-shirt you wore. You winced in pain, biting your lip. It hurt like a bitch but you didn’t want to scold him knowing he was just scared.

There was a cracking sound beneath you and your heart dropped into your stomach when the branch gave way. The young girl cried out, tears falling from her eyes as she watched helplessly. You held the kitten as tight as you could without hurting him, prepared to take any amount of damage as long as he was unharmed.

You felt something hit you from the side, arms under your back and knees. You felt the familiar feeling of shunpo, nostrils filled with the calming scent of mint and vanilla. “Rou-chan,” you breathed out, looking up at him.

“Are you okay?” He questioned with worry, eyes scanning your body for any sign of injury. As soon as his feet hit the ground, the kitten leaped from your arms, rushing over to the child.

You winced, tugging down your shirt to see the damage. Your chest was littered with scratches, tiny beads of blood rising to the surface. They weren’t even that bad but there was just something about cat scratches that burned like a mother fucker.

The little girl picked up her kitten before rushing over to you, tears flowing down her red cheeks. “A-Are you okay?!”

You slid out of Hitsugaya’s arms, much to both of your displeasure, before kneeling in front of her. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine!”

“A-Are you s-sure?”

“Positive,” you smiled, ruffling her hair. 

“Thank you so much for rescuing Bob!”

“B-Bob?” you replied in surprise. “You named the kitten Bob?”

“Yeah!” she giggled, cuddling him to her chest. “Bye!”

You could only blink as she ran away, leaving you with many questions. When you stood up and turned toward Hitsugaya, he was scowling at you.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Pretty sure you can’t lose what you never had.”

“Why didn’t you use shunpo?”

You blinked dumbly, having completely forgotten about its existence. “Oh…”

“You’re hopeless,” he sighed, bringing his hand over his face.

“Hopelessly in love with you,” you grinned, loving the way his pale cheeks darkened.

“More like hopelessly an idiot!”

“What are you doing here, anyway? Has something happened?”

He had prepared the perfect excuse before arriving in the world of the living but, as he stood before you now, it was gone from his brain. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he found himself speaking from the heart rather than from the mind. “I came to see you.”

You looked at him in surprise, feeling warmth flood your body. 

Hitsugaya was tired of running from his feelings. He was tired of pushing you away and pretending as if you meant nothing to him. He was tired of not being able to call you his, to hold you and shower you with the love he deserved. Rules, be damned.

He closed the distance between you, hand resting against the side of your neck.

“Rou-chan,” you breathed out, fingers gripping the front of his shihakusho to pull him closer.

“Do you really love me?” he questioned softly.

“More than anything else in this world.”

The sincerity in your eyes stole the breath from his lungs. “Then prove it. Kiss me.”

The corner of your lips twitched upward as you leaned closer, lips ghosting over his own. “Is that an order, captain?”

“Ye -”

Before he could finish the word, you claimed his lips with your own, hands on his hips to bring him snug against your own body. His lips danced against your own, cheeks dusted pink as his arms found their place around your neck. Neither of you wanted to pull away but the need to breathe consumed you and you had no choice.

Your forehead rested against his as you tried to catch your breath. “Wow…”

Hitsugaya pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, his words soft. “Are you sure you want this? I can’t promise I’ll be able to let you go if you change your mind.”

You chuckled, rubbing circles against his hip with your thumb. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

He hummed happily, closing his eyes as his lips ghosted over yours once more. “I suppose we both have our answer, then.”

“Took you long enough,” you complained, making him chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I just… wanted to keep you safe.”

“I know. I love you, Hitsugaya Toushirou. I’ll love you until the day I die and then I’ll keep loving you from beyond the grave.”

His brow furrowed at the mention of your death. That’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “I won’t ever let anything happen to you. I… I love you.”

“Finally!”

Your eyes widened at the sound of a familiar voice and you turned. Standing up from a large bush was a grinning Matsumoto. Beside her was a scowling Ikkaku, an amused Renji and a smirking Urahara.

“You owe me, Ikkaku! You lost the bet.”

Ikkaku scoffed, folding his arms over his chest before addressing the captain. “Ya couldn’t have held out a bit longer?”

“I’m just glad they finally confessed,” admitted Renji, giving the two of you a thumbs up.

Hitsugaya’s body tensed up, his reiatsu fluctuating as his anger rose.

“Rou-chan,” you sweatdropped, wondering if you should attempt to calm him down.

He pressed his hand against your stomach, gently pushing you back and out of the way. “I am going to kill all of you!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as the small captain started to chase the three around, yelling at them about how they were disrespectful little shits who should mind their own business.

Urahara smiled at you, a silent congratulations for finally winning the heart of the man you loved most. You offered him a smile in return, feeling as if everything had finally fallen into place.

You and Hitsugaya were complete opposites in every conceivable way. Perhaps, though… that was the reason your relationship was so strong. He was everything you were not and vice versa, so you were able to make up for each other’s flaws in a way that wouldn’t be possible if you were similar in nature.

To you, that was a beautiful thing.

───── ⋆⋅🍂⋅⋆ ─────

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

[basilsnotemo]

WOOO HEY !! I hope I came up with a good question!!

What’s your favourite hcs for your favourite ships??? I’m keen to know yours now!

Ooooh ok. Im just going to do creek for now because if I do anyone else it’s just going to be too much. Buckle up this is going to be a long one.

Craig cooks, Tweek bakes. They can not switch or the fire department is going to be called.

Tweek works it out with his parents so that very Friday, Tweek doesn’t work so they can have a date night. Usually this consists of them going to 7/11 and getting a shit ton of snacks and drinks and going back to either his or Craig’s house (usually Craig’s, unless they want extra privacy because Tweek’s parents are never home) and watching movies and just hanging out. Every once in awhile they go out and have a “real” date and they go to dinner or a movie or some other activity. But they prefer their at home movie nights it’s more intimate and more, them.

Tweek gets sick like, all the time. And Craig is always right there regardless of whether or not he’s got a migraine, or a flare up of chronic illness, or the flu, craig is going to be right there by his side until he feels better. (Also side headcannon, I hc that Tweek and Craig’s moms are like high school besties, so when Tweek’s mom is working, if Tweek is sick and they are super busy and she can’t come home from work, Laura will come over and take care of him. )

They meal plan like crazy. Craig likes a solid routine, and he likes to know ahead of time what he’s going to make. Tweek just likes less pressure at the grocery store, he knows exactly what he’s needs to buy

Their wedding was insanely non traditional. Kenny married them in their back yard, they didn’t do vows, there was no cake, no drinks, they had dinner and everyone was hoke by 6. The only people there were Tweeks parents, Craig’s Parents, his sister, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Tolkien, Clyde, and Jimmy. They weren’t even going to HAVE a wedding because NEITHER of them like attention at. all. But their Mother’s and Clyde bitched, until Craig and Tweek relented and let them plan a SMALL wedding for them. It was really nice and they appreciated it later.

Tweek owns the coffee shop, and Craig works for NASA remotely from home. Sometimes if Craig is done early he will come help Tweek in the shop to keep him company

They have no children, Craig loves kids, but doesn’t want one in his house, he likes to play with his niece and then give her back to his sister and go home to his quiet house.

They have a guinea pig and two cats, much like how the guinea pigs are always named stripe, the cats are named after some sort of coffee.

Tweek can NOT sleep without Craig. At all. They discovered this in high school. So Craig made sure to invite Tweek over for a sleepover every couple days to make sure he got some rest. Even if they are fighting (which is rare) they still sleep in the same bed.

They are both blind af, Tweek doesn’t really have a preferred method of vision correction, but tends to go for contacts if he’s working because hot steamy things and glasses don’t mix very well. Craig on the other hand refuses to wear contacts and will only wear glasses (it’s a sensory thing.)

They are VERY good at taking care of each other. It’s almost like they are psychically linked they know exactly what the other needs at any given time.

Tweek has a lot of health problems, on top of anxiety and depression he’s got stomach issues, he’s got dental issues, he’s got skin issues. Most of that is related to the drug abuse forced upon him by his father, but I do hc him to have CVS outside of that.

Craig also has some health issues, he’s got depression, anxiety, lactose intolerant, I also hc that he develops lupus later in life because I’m mean and I like to project

Tweek loves to read, specifically horror novels, which is surprising to anyone who has met Tweek but it’s surprisingly helpful with his anxiety.

Tweeks got KILLER back problems from working such a labor intensive job from such a young age, Craig knows exactly where and with the exact amount of pressure to rub his back to make it feel just a little bit better, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Tweek accidentally ruined his own proposal, what happened was Tweek got a phone call from the bank saying there was a $5000 purchase from the debit card, and Tweek was like wtf so he confronted Craig about it, but Craig was super cagey about it. and at this point Tweek has convinced himself that Craig is cheating, and he’s going to leave him and Tweek doesn’t know how to be alone, and he’s getting all worked up and about to have a panic attack in the middle of the mall and craig sighs and says “do you really want to know what I bought?” And Tweek nodded trying to calm down. Craig pulled a small black box out of his pocket and showed him what he bought. It was an engagement ring that Craig had picked out. Tweek just looked at it, started crying again, like omg you were going to ask me to marry you. And Craig’s like yeah silly, and then Tweek reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box, pissed at craig after the fact because HE was planning to ask Craig to marry HIM.

Anyway that’s all I got for now

[thornybubbles]

The Cat Came Back

NOTE: This is just a blurb based on an idea that’s been bouncing around in my head for a while. I was debating on whether or not to share this because I don’t really plan on expanding on it. It’s not a yandere story, but I could definitely put it in the “horror scenario” category. 

---------

It didn’t take Josuke long to get to your house after you called him. You woke him up in the middle of an after school nap and told him to come over to your house. You didn’t explain anything and just said that it was urgent. He was already worried about you because you hadn’t been to school for two days, but hearing the dread in your voice had him panicking. Whatever was wrong with you was something serious and he could only hope that it was something that Crazy Diamond could fix. If not, then he would do whatever he needed to to help you. You were one of his dearest friends after all. 

It was only a year ago since the incident with Kira and all the stuff that happened before that. He had never wanted you to be dragged into the madness of Stands and Stand users, but you got involved anyway when Kira targeted you specifically during that final battle. Josuke had no idea what you were doing there. You weren’t a Stand user and you would have no way to defend yourself when things inevitably got crazy. You were supposed to be at home and away from all that mess, but you said that you heard the explosions and got worried. Leave it to you to be the only one that would run towards the sound of explosions instead of away from them (you dummy!). Unfortunately, in your haste to check on what was happening to your friends, you ran right into Yoshikage Kira. 

Kira recognized you instantly as one of Josuke’s friends and planned on using you as a hostage until he was able to flee the scene after the tides of battle had turned against him. There was no doubt that once he managed to escape them, he would kill you, a fact that he gleefully reminded Josuke of during the final showdown. If it hadn’t been for Jotaro and Star Platinum’s ability to stop time… well… it’s not something Josuke wanted to think about. 

Josuke finally reached your front door and rang the bell. Mere seconds after, the door opened and you stood there looking up at him with a haggard, haunted expression. He was shocked at your appearance. It looked like you hadn’t slept in days. One look at you had him asking what seemed like a thousand questions at once. 

“Oh my God! Are you okay? Are you sick? Is that why you weren’t at school? Why didn’t you call someone? You could’ve gotten Koichi or Yukako to take notes for you, you know? Where are your parents? Are you here by yourself? Who’s taking care of you?” 

You only answered one of his questions. 

“My folks are out of town visiting relatives.” you said, voice shaky with fatigue and anxiety. “Get in here. We gotta talk about something serious.” 

Before he could say anything else, you grabbed him by the collar of his uniform jacket and dragged him inside. You had him sit on the sofa in the living room. He waited there, impatient and anxious, as you nervously paced the room in front of him. After another minute of watching you imitate a caged big cat, he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Come on, don’t leave me hanging like this!” he said, voice cracking as he tried to swallow down his building dread. “Just tell me what’s wrong!” 

You looked at him, eyes both tired and manic at the same time. 

“I’m going to!” you snapped, emotions flaring. “I just… I’m just not sure how to even begin to explain this…” 

You sighed deeply, trying to calm yourself enough to say what you needed to. 

“I-I’ll just start this off by saying that… well… I… I don’t even know how this is possible now, but…It happened after school on Monday. I got home and…” 

You took another deep breath and massaged your temples. Your head was pounding and you hadn’t bothered to take anything for it yet. 

“Look. I don’t really know how to soften the blow with this, so I’m just gonna come out and say it… I have a Stand now.” you said. 

Josuke’s eyes widened and he sat looking at you in shock. There were so many thoughts going through his head at that moment. Having a Stand was a double edged sword. On one hand (depending on what kind of Stand you had) you would be able to defend yourself better as a Stand user than a normal person. On the other hand, it would mean that you would be forever destined to run into other Stand users, not all of which would be friendly. This revelation also filled Josuke’s head with even more questions. How had you obtained your Stand? Was there another arrow for them to worry about? Or did you get your Stand without an arrow? If so, why hadn’t you suffered with the near deadly fever that usually accompanied developing a Stand? Most people who were born Stand users either developed them at birth or at least at a very young age. That’s not to say that a user couldn’t develop their Stand at a later age, but…. 

Josuke opened his mouth, preparing to bombard you with all the questions swimming around in his head, but you held up a hand to silence him. 

“Wait, before you say anything, let me just say that it isn’t what you think. My Stand, well, it isn’t… it isn’t actually mine…” 

Josuke gave you a confused look. 

“W-what? What do you mean by that? How can you have a Stand that isn’t yours?” he asked, unable to hold back his questions any longer. 

You let out a cry of frustration. “I don’t know, Josuke!” you shouted. “I don’t have a damned clue, okay?!” 

Josuke jumped and shied away from you at your harsh tone. Seeing his reaction you closed your eyes trying, once again, to get your emotions under control. 

“Sorry.” you said with a shaky sigh. “Sorry I snapped. This is just… it makes no sense, okay? It really, really makes no sense and I just don’t know how to deal with what’s happening. I always was a little envious of you, Okuyasu, Koichi, and the others because I was the only one that didn’t have a Stand. I thought it would be cool to have one, you know? But… in this case I think I’d rather go back to not having one.” 

A few minutes of silence passed between you. Josuke fidgeted on the couch in anticipation of whatever else you would have to say. He was torn between asking you things or waiting for you to start talking again. 

“I guess the only way you’ll understand what I mean by the Stand not being mine is to show it to you.” you said finally. 

Another moment or two of uncomfortable silence. 

“Okay… Josuke, I’m going to show you my Stand now, but you have to remain calm, okay? Don’t freak out!” 

You took a step back from him and stared at the floor for a moment. Josuke watched you both curious and anxious over what your Stand would be. 

You didn’t summon your Stand in the usual way. You didn’t call it by name, so Josuke assumed you hadn’t given it a name yet. But once the Stand came into view Josuke understood why you didn’t call it by name. You were right when you said that the Stand wasn’t yours. It belonged to someone else… someone who was supposed to be dead. This Stand already had a name and it was a name you probably didn’t want to say aloud, not after what the user put you through. 

Josuke knew the Stand because he’d actually fought the user, but you knew the Stand by accident. You’d bumped into Rohan while he was at the cafe one afternoon and spotted some of his sketches on the table. They were all sketches of Stands and you were fascinated. Though he pretended to be annoyed in the usual Rohan fashion, he’d been all too happy to show you the sketches and explain everything he knew about Stands and Stand users. You browsed the sketches he’d made of the various Stands and their corresponding users: Josuke’s Crazy Diamond, Okuyasu’s The Hand, Koichi’s Echoes, Jotaro’s Star Platinum, and so on. Being a non-Stand user, this was the only way that you would ever know what everyone’s Stands looked like. 

There was one sketch, however, that Rohan seemed determined to keep you from seeing. He snatched the stack of sketches from you just as you got the final sketch, almost giving you a paper cut in the process. He mumbled something about needing to head home to get back to work, but it was already too late. As he was yanking the stack of sketches out of your hand, you got a glimpse of the final sketch. On the paper was the image of a figure you would never forget as long as you lived. Next to the user was the image of a Stand that would now also be burned into your memory along with its name that was scrawled on the space next to it: 

Killer Queen. 

This was the Stand that you summoned; a Stand that belonged to a dead serial killer. 

It took every ounce of Josuke’s impulse control to keep him from jumping up from the couch, summoning Crazy Diamond, and pummeling Killer Queen back into non-existence. But he knew that if he did that, it would hurt you, too. He could tell by the way Killer Queen hovered behind you, staring at him intensely, that it was waiting for you to give it the mental order to attack. You didn’t though. You were nothing like its previous owner and Josuke was not your opponent. But he could tell by the way the Stand stared directly into his eyes in a challenging manner that the damned thing not only recognized him, but still viewed him as an enemy. You shifted uncomfortably where you stood and Killer Queen mimicked the motion, taking on a different battle pose that somewhat imitated your new position. Oh yes, it was obvious that Killer Queen was your Stand now and anything Crazy Diamond did to it would affect you, too. As if it could sense what Josuke was thinking, the corners of Killer Queen’s mouth turned up slightly. It was mocking him. The wicked thing was actually mocking him!

This couldn’t be possible. It shouldn’t be possible! Reimi told them that both Yoshikage Kira and his Stand had been torn apart by the ghostly mass of arms that haunted the hidden alley beside the grocery store. It made no logical sense for Killer Queen to still exist after both it and its user had been ripped to pieces. It made even less sense for it to be attached to you now. How could someone gain control of a dead person’s Stand? Just how was such a thing possible? 

You felt your whole body quiver with disgust as the unwanted Stand pulled itself from your soul and manifested behind you. You stared at Josuke, watching his reaction. You pointedly refused to even glance at the Stand, afraid that you would retch if you so much as laid eyes on it. The shocked and horrified look on Josuke’s face did nothing to soothe you though. A single glance at the look on your friend’s face had your eyes filling with tears. You knew he wasn’t looking at you like that, but you still felt judged. Just having Kira’s Stand attached to you made you feel as if you had somehow become responsible for all the lives he’d taken. It was as if his sins had been passed on to you and it made you feel repulsed by your own existence. 

Sensing your distress, Killer Queen pulled its attention from Josuke to glance down at you. Wanting to comfort its new user, it knelt down and nudged your face with its forehead in a sick parody of a housecat demanding attention. At the sensation of it touching you, you jumped away, staring up at the Stand in terror. Your stomach churned at the sight of it and you actively had to fight against your gag reflex. Killer Queen cocked its head to the side, confused by your rejection. It reached for you and you threw your hands up in front of you as if to place a barrier between you and your own Stand. 

“Stop!” you shouted. “Don’t touch me!” 

Killer Queen did as it was told but stared at you strangely as if you were behaving unreasonably. 

“Go back!” you commanded. 

Killer Queen tilted its head to the other side, ears going back slightly. It made no move to obey. 

“Go back, Killer Queen!” you commanded again, hating how easily the Stand’s name rolled off your tongue. 

This time the Stand obeyed, but not before turning back to Josuke and staring him down once more before vanishing. 

Josuke glared right back at it until it was no longer in view. 

You could feel it when Killer Queen’s presence rejoined your soul and the sensation caused your knees to buckle. You sank to the floor and started bawling, unable to hold your emotions back anymore. Josuke was by your side in seconds, wrapping his arms around you and doing his best to calm you. You pressed yourself into his hold, soaking his uniform with tears and shaking. 

“Josuke!” you cried. “Please, please, please help me! I don’t know what to do! I don’t understand what’s happening to me! Please help me!” 

You were in utter hysterics and Josuke didn’t know what else to do but hold you and rock you like an infant until your screaming and sobbing quieted. Eventually you tired yourself out enough that you could think somewhat rationally again. 

“I-I don’t want the others to know about this,” you said with a sniff. “Not yet at least. I’m afraid of how they’ll react.” 

“Okay, but I think it’s best that we get in touch with Jotaro.” he told you. “He’s got experience when it comes to Stands and stuff like that, so he may have seen something like this before. He’s got ties to the Speedwagon Foundation and whatever he can’t help us with, I’m sure they can.” 

You went limp in his hold, finally feeling a tiny amount of relief after days of worry and dread. You allowed yourself to relax completely as he held you. 

“Thank you, Josuke,” you said in an exhausted tone. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

He lifted your head to look you in your watery eyes. 

“Hey, you know I’ve always got your back.” he said with a small smile. “You’re going to get through this, okay? You aren’t alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” 

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

NOTE 2: Well that ended on an uplifting note which is unusual for me. I just want to take the time to explain where this crazy idea came from. So, I’ve been slowly “JoJo-fying” my Terraria game and I found a mod called “JoJo Stands” which allows you to have Stands in the game while also filling the world with various JoJo references (of course!). With the mod, there are two ways to get Stands. The most common way is to wait for Jotaro (part 4 version) to show up in your game and get a Stand arrow shard from him. You talk to him and choose the option “Stand Help” and he’ll say something about how you “Seem to be reliable” and give you an arrow shard. If you use the arrow shard your character will take a slight amount of damage but get a buff letting you know that you’re under the influence of the arrow. You then just have to wait a few in-game minutes and a random Stand will appear into your inventory. I do have to mention that when you use the arrow shard there is the rare chance that it won’t give you a Stand and instead kill you instantly with a message that the arrow “found you unworthy”, after which you’ll have to go back to Jotaro, get another shard, and start the process over. 

The other way to get a Stand is to simply be “born” with one, meaning that a random Stand can be assigned to you from the moment your character spawns into the game world. It’s rare to get a Stand this way, however. On my first playthrough of the game after downloading the mod, I was lucky enough to be “born” with a Stand. I was really excited but when I checked my inventory to see which Stand I got, my excitement turned into a deep distress. The first Stand I ever got in the mod was, you guessed it, KILLER FREAKIN’ QUEEN! I didn’t know what Stand I would get, but I was not expecting him! 

I got over my initial anxiety at having such a destructive Stand after I used him in the fight with the Desert Scourge (giant worm boss from the Calamity Mod) and Killer Queen blew it to pieces before it was able to do any damage to me at all. That’s not to say that the Stand was overpowered or anything, as later boss fights proved to be a bit more of a challenge, but having him in boss fights was certainly a boon. 

In spite of how helpful he was as a Stand, I came to realize that I’m not a very responsible Stand user and frankly have no business having a Stand that dangerous. For example, there was the time that I went to pet my cat while I had Killer Queen active and I forgot to set him for Auto instead of Manual. So I ended up petting the cat with Killer Queen instead of my character. Anybody remember what happens when Killer Queen touches things while in attack mode? Yeah, I turned my damn cat into a bomb and detonated it seconds later. Fortunately, my cat didn’t die. It was injured but it fully healed after a few minutes. My sister joked that Killer Queen was jealous and wanted to be the only cat in the house. Very funny. 

Then there was the time I nearly blew myself up. I had just upgraded Killer Queen to the level that I could summon Sheer Heart Attack. For some dumb reason, I thought it was an excellent idea to test SHA’s abilities while standing inside of my house instead of taking it outside somewhere. My stupidity resulted in me nearly destroying my whole room. The explosion took out the whole background wall, some of my furniture, and parts of the floor and ceiling. It also took out over half of my health. It left me with only two hearts and a giant mess to clean up. My sister heard the explosion and came running to see what happened. I explained what I’d done and she told me that I needed to have my Stand License revoked. Very funny. 

At some point I started speculating on the idea of a person developing a Stand only to find out that the Stand not only used to belong to someone else, but it used to belong to a really evil villain. So that’s where the idea for this little blurb came from. Like I said before, I don’t really plan on adding anything more to this as I haven’t planned anything beyond this initial premise. So consider this a one shot. Keep an eye out for more stuff in the near future! 

[bigsexiest]

A little Mountain x Rain cat and mouse thing (tw: brief mentions of blood)

Don’t imagine Rain hunting a terrified Mountain down within the labyrinthian walls of the greenhouses.

And definitely don't imagine Mountain snuffling under a table in a corner hoping Rain doesn’t find him.

It was a lazy day at the ministry. Mountain was enjoying the ambiance of the greenhouse. It was raining and Mountain could hear the sound of the droplets hitting the plastic roof covering. 

He cherished days like this. He had even made himself a nice cup of tea from dried mint leaves he’d harvested earlier that week.

It doesn’t matter what he was doing specifically.

Maybe he was pruning some overgrown flowers, perhaps he was cutting a nice bouquet for Swiss. Chances are he just nicked his finger on some thorns.

All that mattered was the bright pungent beautiful blood dripping from his hand.

He stared for a few seconds, watching the drops fall from his hand onto the ground.

Maybe Mount was feeling a little weird that day.

He had decided to spend his day off in his greenhouse because he felt safe there. He didn’t have to worry about interacting with ghouls or humans, it was only him and his beloved plants. He just wanted to be himself, the truest version.

So when he heard the telltale growl of a feral ghoul, he couldn’t fight the equally feral instinct to run and hide.

Rain had been similarly enjoying the rainy day. It being his namesake for a good reason.

He had been splashing around in the lake, spending time diving as deep as he could go and then resurfacing to jump above the water like a big fish.

Rain was just about to dive down again when he smelt the delicious scent of fresh blood. 

Swimming always put him in a weird headspace.

He felt like a true ghoul. A deranged beast unable to contain violent urges. Today was no different.

With that small whiff he had gotten he couldn’t control the way his tail propelled him to shore. 

The scent grew stronger as he prowled towards the ministry, still on all fours with his nose to the ground.

When he spotted the greenhouses, he knew exactly where the blood had come from. No way could a scent that strong be coming from the ministry unless someone had been brutally slaughtered. Blood everywhere. All over the walls.

Just the thought alone made him growl with anticipation.

But no, the smell was definitely coming from the greenhouse.

Upon slowly entering through the door, keeping his body close to the ground and his footsteps light, he heard the telltale signs of someone running very fast away from him.

Now, if Rain had any sense left in his tiny ghoul brain, he might have taken the time to stand up and realize what had most likely happened. The blood drops on the ground obviously meant Mountain had cut himself somehow and it would be most beneficial for Rain to find a first aid kit or something useful. 

But no. Rain was fully distracted by the promise of a good game of cat and mouse with the reward of fresh blood at the end.

Unbeknownst to him, his pupils had dilated and his nostrils were flaring. He abandoned his sneaky approach for the aggressive full-tilt sprint necessary of a ghoul on the hunt.

The gravel floors of the greenhouses were spraying everywhere as Rain dug his heels into the ground hoping for more speed. 

He had seen a glimpse of a tuft of tail fur a couple hallways ahead of him.

In his excitement at finally seeing his prey, he had tripped over his own feet and careened right into a table covered in baby sunflowers ready to be planted.

The destruction he had caused did absolutely nothing to slow Rain down as he jumped up and continued his chase. He was still naked from his swim at the lake and the plastic trays containing the sunflowers had caused little scrapes running along his side. His feet were bleeding from the rough rocks he had been sprinting through.

None of this pain stopped Rain as he continued the chase to a dead end. 

The smell of Mountain’s blood was still noticeable, but not as noticeable as the sweet stench of fear permeating the enclosed space.

Rain had stopped running when he had found the doorway to the space. There was a door at the opposite end of the short building, but Rain could tell Mountain was hiding within these walls.

Rain was heavily gulping air through his mouth and his gills, trying to calm down after the strenuous chase. With the absence of prey, and the stench of fear outweighing the scent of blood, he had started to realize what was happening. His heightened levels of adrenaline were wearing off.

He was still very interested in the blood, but seeing only the small curled-up shape of his favorite Earth ghoul ruined his excitement. Rain was having a hard time enjoying himself anymore.

Mountain was shaking. The sound of the heavy rain on the outer shell of the greenhouse drowned out his pained whimpering. He had just wanted to spend a day safe in the warm humid comfort of his greenhouses, but now he feared for his life. The ghoul who had been chasing him sounded scary. 

Mountain hadn’t noticed much in his hurried escape, but the slobbering whines and grunts of the ghoul chasing him had brought him to tears. He didn’t want to fight. He couldn’t stand the thought of the other ghoul’s claws ripping him to the ground. Imagining the ghoul’s sharp teeth tearing at Mountain’s flesh made him sob harder.

When Mountain finally felt cold claws on his back, he managed to curl in on himself even tighter. His ears were flattened against his head in fear, his tail threaded between his legs, and the fuzzy tuft at the end of his tail was held firmly in his mouth.

Rain felt terrible. He didn’t mean to scare the large ghoul that badly. He was only interested in the excitement of the hunt. Dew and Swiss were always joking about what a giant pansy Mount was, but Rain never would have guessed it would be this bad.

Rain started making a quiet shushing sound while slowly petting down Mountain’s back, hoping to calm the other ghoul. He wondered how bad Mountain’s wound was.

As more time passed, Mountain started to feel somewhat safe. He had been taking deep breaths, and his crying had been largely cathartic in cleansing his terrified mind. Now that he was less scared, he was able to open his eyes and raise his ears to hear Rain softly murmuring to him.

He took his tail out from between his legs to turn towards the smaller water ghoul. Rain was swift to take Mountain into his arms and their tails twisted together.

Rain could see Mountain had his right hand clenched within his left. So he softly asked the Earth ghoul if he could see.

Mountain opened his bloody hand to Rain. Rain took the hand and placed the cut in his mouth, licking away all the blood and encouraging the cut to close with his sticky water ghoul saliva.

Mountain was happy that Rain was there to comfort him after such a fright, and Rain was happy to finally taste some goddamn blood after all his trouble.

[fanfictiongirlie]

X-Men: The Chase Chapter Four

Click here for masterlist

Pairings: Logan x (First Person) Female Character (No use of Y/N)

Description: Being a mutant with the power to create electricity is dangerous, the X-Men think so. So running away from them, specifically Logan, seemed like a good idea. A game of cat and mouse ensues, until one day, running gets boring. And finally, Logan catches up with her.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Swearing, silly plot tbh, eventual smut

When I open my eyes, I winced slightly at bright lights, I blinked a few times allowing myself to get use to the room. I panicked when I realised I had wires connecting to my arms, I let my electricity flare out from me, sparking out to the machines, effectively shutting them down. 

"Hey, woah! Calm down!"

"Where am I?" I growled, looking over to Logan. He carefully approached me, he looked at me with a sympathetic look, pissing me off further. 

"Shh...it's alright, you're in the X-Men mansion. You were hit by a car. Do...you remember any of that?" He asks, standing beside me on the bed. I moved to the other side of the bed, letting the fried wires fall off from me. 

"Fuck" I mutter "Guess you got what you wanted, huh? Me in your stupid little mutant house"

He chuckled softly "Yeah, guess I did, didn't I, princess?"

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest, I looked around the room, seeing I wasn't on a top floor or anything, I could see outside the window it wouldn't be a difficult way to escape. Smirking, I asked Logan if he would get me something to eat, he made it too easy. 

Once he was gone, I quickly got myself dressed into my clothes, out of the stupid hospital gown. The window was locked, so I wrapped a blanket around my fist and punched my way through it, once it was broken enough I carefully climbed out, I smirked again seeing a motorbike near the mansion entrance, it screamed Logan. 

I sparked the bike and climbed on, smirking I drove off, thinking over how pissed Logan would be. My life goal, pissing that man off. 

✦ . ⁺  . ✦ . ⁺  . ✦

A few weeks later, I was sitting in a hotel, not a fancy one, but it was something, better than the rundown houses I usually slept in. I hadn't seen Logan since the mansion, I had decided to find money, and stay in hotels rather than ruined houses, to make the chase even harder for him. My room was right next to the fire escape, which made me feel even more relaxed. 

I walked into the bathroom, which didn't have a door separating it, more of an arch with the bath in the middle of the extended area of the room. I turned the taps on, letting the steamy water fill the tub. 

"Seems I found you again" 

I yelped, jumping, letting electric spark out to hit the body that just stepped into my room. Logan groaned, but still shut the door behind him. 

"Seems you did, I don't care though, I have a hot bath ready for me" I smirked. I watched as he walked further into the room, stopping only when he reached the bed. He sat down on it, his eyes now locked with mine as he spoke. 

"Really? You're not going to run? You're going to have a bath?!" He asks, his voice louder with each word. 

"Aw, you sound angry, maybe joining me in the bath would soothe you" I smirked, teasing him. He chuckled but paused for a moment, his eyes dragging over my robed body as he spoke. 

"You want me to join you, dollface?" He asks, disbelief laced in his voice. 

"You'd so willingly get into the water with an electrical wielder?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"When a beautiful girl offers to bathe with you, you don't say no" He says, letting out a gruff laugh. "Just promise you won't shock me?"

"Can't make any promises" I say with a shrug. "It's your decision"

I step into the bath area, and dropped my robe, I was internally questioning whether this was a stupid idea, probably. I stepped into the water, it was hot against my skin and it sizzled as my electricity relaxed into my body. 

"This is probably a terrible and stupid idea, but damn, I can't say no to a pretty thing like you" I heard him mutter. I moaned softly, the warm water feeling perfect against my skin. 

"You could've at least let me get in first, before you got comfortable darlin'" 

I rolled my eyes playfully and moved forward, making space for him. He stripped his clothes, and I tried hard to not look, he slowly stepped into the tub, groaning as he felt the hot water against his skin. I didn't lean back, not wanting to get myself too comfortable just yet. I didn't want to make it weird between us, though maybe we had already crossed weird. 

"This is a nice hotel room you've got here" He whispers, I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, I shivered and concentrated hurt to not let my electric out. Not wanting to ruin this moment. My efforts weren't strong enough, my electricity sizzled lightly from my body through the water, I heard him groan softly, his body jolting making the water move. 

"Damn it doll, you really know how to drive a man insane, don't you?"

"Seems you're the only one I make insane" I mumble. I reach over grabbing the body wash, handing it over my shoulder to him. He said nothing but took the bottle, and a few seconds later, his rough hands were on my back with the cold coconut liquid cupped in his hands as he rubbed it into my skin. I let out a deep breath, biting my lip slightly. I hadn't expected the touch of his hands on my skin to be so...electric. It was strange having someone else touch me, and have such an impact on me. I moaned softly, closing my eyes. 

"Jesus, your moans are absolutely gorgeous" He whispered from behind me. I sighed, but didn't say anything, allowed the hot water and his hands over my back relax me. 

"Damn, you're actually starting to look calm for once, it's definitely a good look on you, you know" He murmured, his voice feeling closer than before. 

"You can't do things quietly, can you?" I asked, my voice low. He chuckled, and moved slightly, his nose nudged against the back of my neck, causing my electricity to sizzle through the water again. 

"Nope, I've always been a loud and noisy bastard. So you're just gonna have to deal with it" He said, his lips brushing against my neck. I panicked slightly, feeling like I'd gone too far this time. I moved and turned around, kneeling between his legs. 

"Damn" He muttered "What you doin'?"

"I thought I'd return the favour and wash you" I say with a shrug, like it was nothing, no big deal.

"Didn't think you were such a giving sort" He said with a lopsided smirk. 

"I can, just not, yaknow?" I say with an uncaring shrug. He chuckled, letting his eyes travel down my body. I should of felt uncomfortable, but with him, I just didn't. I poured the body wash liquid onto my hand and started rubbing it into his chest and shoulders. 

Smirking to myself I moved my hands lower across his stomach, feeling over every one of his abs, I bit my lip as I travelled down. He was toned, and I was hungry for more, but I wouldn't give in that easy. Just as I reached his lower stomach, and his eyes were shut, I moved away, standing up. I climbed out from the bath and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself. 

I watched as his eyes darkened as he watched me. 

"Don't you dare leave me again"

"I won't, I have plans in this hotel tonight, I'm not leaving" I smirked, I walked into the main room, and wrapped my robe around myself. I climbed onto the bed and got myself comfortable, grabbing my bottle and wine and switching on the television. 

A few minutes later he walked back in, fully clothed and looking pissed at me. I smirked. 

"You have one of two choices, either join me, or piss off" I smiled sweetly, taking a swig of the wine. 

He grumbled slightly, looking at me for a moment. He climbed onto the bed, and rested next to me. 

"I see you're choosing option one, grab a glass, I'll pour you some wine" I say with a smile. I poured him a full glass of the wine and pressed play on the random movie I had on the t.v. 

"Oh I forgot the best bit!" I say excitedly, I reached down and grabbed a box of chocolates and laid them in between us. 

"I'm frustrated as hell" He muttered, grabbing a chocolate, washing it down with a gulp of wine. 

"That sounds like a you problem" I said with a smirk "Now, be a good boy and let me enjoy my evening"

He grumbled again. 

"Come on doll, please?" He asked, his voice pleading. 

"Shut up Logan" I muttered, not taking my eyes off the screen. 

"Damn you really are a tease"

"If I gave you a kiss right now, would you shut the fuck up and let me watch my stupid movie and drink my stupid wine?" I asked, my voice snappy. 

"How can you say that so casually? How can you always be so casual?" He asks. 

"I don't know how to not be casual" I say with a shrug. Trying not to dwell on his words too much. He finally shut up after that, allowing me to watch the film and drink my wine. Though I did feel a little sad he didn't press me on the kiss. I wouldn't of minded kissing him. 

Soon, we both fell asleep.

[noemilivv]

Hello! I just saw you were doing matchups, and I love those! I’m always eager to see what people think, so, I’m here :3 with a request please!

I’m a female with she/ her pronouns, and I’m straight (I know) so if you don’t mind I’d prefer if my matchup were with a male! ^^

I’m about 5’7” in height, to be specific I’m 5’6” and a half. I’m not necessarily an introvert, but I am shy. I don’t tend to talk to people unless they talk to me first. But once they do, the flood gates will open. It could be the stupidest topic, and I’ll talk your ear off like I’m gonna die tomorrow and this is my last chance to speak to someone.

I love to draw, though admittedly I don’t do it nearly as much as I used to. And I love cats and dogs! I actually work at a dog daycare! I can be a bit sarcastic, and even a smartass. And I’ve been called a know-it-all many times before. And once I get comfortable- I’m known to cuss a little too much.

Admittedly, I wear a lot of pink but also a lot of black. It just kind of depends what I’m feeling that day, though my favorite color overall is definitely pink. My sense of style also varies a little, but I mostly gravitate towards tight tops and flare jeans with my docs.

My love languages are mostly physical touch and acts of service. I’m very talkative, but I can also just sit and appreciate the silence with someone too if I don’t know what to say. I also love listening to stories and just talking and hanging out! I’m not very touchy, but every now and then I get short bursts of energy where I’m VERY touchy and random. Like- just a sudden hug or playful shove.

I love watching scary videos and true crime documentaries, and listening to music. But I do hate to cook. I’m awful at it, I get distracted and make mistakes. But speaking of food and such- I hate coffee. But I do love sweet drinks! You will catch me drinking a loaded tea at like 7am. Speaking of which, on weekends I’ll be in bed all day. But on weekdays I’m up at like- 5am.

And I think that’s all… thank you for reading! ^^ have a blessed night/ day! Love the work, keep it up! <3

for you, i decided to pair you with…

Lucifer !!

You and Luci could go on ALL DAY about your fave topics haha, you both just sit there and talk about anything and everything into the night for hours

He also loves that your love languages are physical touch and acts of service, he’s a touchy, cuddly teddy bear AND bro is actually so depressed, so the fact that you help him through that in multiple ways just makes his heart melt

Lucifer loves your witty moments and your sarcasm, I can imagine you both joking around and being little shits to eachother

[proosh]

Gilbert has a scent kink and Francis indulges him in ways Gil didn't even know possible

oh my god this took so much longer than intended I'm so so sorry. please enjoy.

(side acknowledgement: eternal thanks to @grapeautumn for letting me borrow their ideas for Fran's apartment. please go ask them for specifics because it's glorious and terrible.) Pairing: FraPru/PruFra Prompt: Scent kink Rating: Teen? 16+??? (Sensual/suggestive but nothing explicit) Length: ~1.4k words Content Warnings: Scent kink, animal comparisons, gratuitous French petnames EDITED TO ADD: LINK TO FANART AT THE BOTTOM!!!

There was no way on God’s green earth Gilbert was at all ever trusting Francis’ driving, let alone in actual streets of Paris. That’s how he ended up walking from the train station with his bag slung over his shoulder and then hiking up three goddamned flights of stairs to get to Francis’ apartment.

The next world meeting was to be held in Paris, so it really only made sense for him to stay at Francis’ apartment for the duration. Three flights of stairs aside, it was a nice place. Kind of bougie, but familiar and suitable for the… thing they had together. Certainly not a capital-R-Relationship, but their… relationship. Whatever that was.

It’s how he ended up slightly winded knocking on the apartment door – which opened far too quickly for his taste.

Francis was smiling at him, feline, resplendent, shirt half-open to the belly to reveal everything from collarbone to sternum. He was holding a glass of wine.

“Bonjour! Please, do come in, I’ve been waiting.”

Gilbert did as commanded and stepped into the apartment, bracing himself against being enveloped by the Bohemian kitsch that dominated it. He failed, in no small part thanks to Fran appearing at his side and taking his bag and catching him off-guard in the process.

The apartment was familiar to Gilbert: Centuries blended into one another and competed for sensory recognition in garish colours and bold textures and… His nose wrinkled.

Francis was babbling about one thing or another – “–ly makes sense to share a bed, it would be discourteous of me to force you to the couch–” – but Gilbert tuned him out, pursing his lips and focusing on inhaling through his nose.

The usual light, familiar scent of antiques and Francis’ usual perfumes was being undercut by something else that was bringing him up short and making a strange part of his hindbrain sit up and pay attention.

Francis had noticed his distraction and had stopped talking, regarding him with a coy smile. Gilbert eyed him suspiciously, his nostrils flaring to try and narrow in on the… Something in the air. Francis was smiling far too indulgently for this not to be a mere something.

“What… Is that,” Gilbert asked, in a way that wasn’t really a question.

“What is what, cher?” Francis said, swirling the wine in his glass and sniffing it daintily, all in that lilting way that made Gilbert want to sink his teeth into his throat and shake him like a rabbit.

Curiousity and prey drive sufficiently piqued, Gilbert tilted his head to the side and noticed that Francis was not nearly as nonchalant as he was pretending to be… he was keeping his gaze on Gilbert with a guarded, almost polite, wariness.

This was a game, then. 

He stepped closer to Francis, keeping his eyes trained on the man lest he get any ideas and try to escape somehow.

“You were waiting for me,” he stated plainly, watching the corner of Francis’ mouth twitch in confusion.

“Of course. I’ve missed you, cher.”

“You were waiting for me, so I would notice,” Gilbert said, ignoring the flutter in his chest and instead approaching with careful steps.

Francis backed up, and almost seemingly allowed himself to be hounded back against the apartment wallpaper – a floral display, much like the man himself.

Francis wet his mouth with a teasing tongue and looked much like the cat that had got the mouse. Conniving bastard was preening in his victory.

“An old thing. Don’t you remember? Back when it was the fashion to smell like an elk in rut.” He pouted, then, batting his lashes. “I found it while doing some cleaning. Do you not like it?”

Gilbert’s hand had switched from pinning him to gripping the lapel of his open shirt — silk, lovely, slippery like the man — and he made a confused noise somewhere between a growl and a whine.

“You— planned to wear it? To force me to work it out?”

The entire time something off had been in the air, a slight note ajar from the usual, familiar scentscape of Francis and his apartment: floral perfume, the smell of antiques, Francis’ own clean, natural musk, and… Then something atop that, that made Gilbert’s ears perk up and something in his hindbrain demand to be investigated.

He had him against the wall, now. They were the same height, so Gilbert pinned him with a firm hand across Francis’ collarbone and peered at him suspiciously.

Francis, to his credit, was back to giving him that coy smile. He was always a man who liked this sort of game.

Gilbert’s nose wrinkled again as he sniffed and was met with that something again, stronger now. He leaned in, thoroughly invading Francis’ personal space in the process and inhaled slower, letting the notes register on his palate — much like how Francis would be scenting his wine, almost.

He hummed blinking as he processed it, and then leaned in close enough that he could feel the prickle of excitement along the fine hairs of Francis’ throat, and the pulse of his heartbeat beneath his hand. It was richer here — whatever it was — and mingled with the natural scent of Francis’ own skin in a way that was making Gilbert’s teeth ache in a way he couldn’t quite identify.

Gilbert’s nose swung from his throat to his bared chest. Francis was hairy just about everywhere, and the golden fur of his chest might have been the prize of his pelt. He’d been showing it off, too. It was inviting and the musk was strongest here and Gilbert was pressing his nose against the soft hair—

The something clicked into his memory register like the cartridge of a rifle being loaded.

He was back to Francis’s face, nose to nose with accusation before the thought was even fully formed.

“What is that perfume,” Gilbert half-snarled with hazy recollection that was making his belly do uncertain twists of confused want.

Francis pursed his mouth in polite amusement and seemed thoroughly unbothered by the bordering on rough treatment.

“Yes, yes. My clever plan: to make you a madman of desire, hunting down your prey.”

His words had a slightly flippant tone that gave Gilbert pause.

“Am I,” he tested, lightly, “Doing something wrong?” 

Francis batted his lashes at him again.

“Mm. Marginally caught up in the details, cher. Allow me to recontextualise.” He pressed the pads of his fingers — when had he put down that wine glass? — against Gilbert’s chest lightly, and deliberately trailed them down his front. A coil of tense frisson followed.

“I am a humble elk in rut, you see,” he mused, “and you can smell. You, my sweet hound, have scented me, and now you come to hunt. How does that sound, cher?”

Gilbert did smell him. It had been a type of perfume Francis had worn extensively in centuries past, and it had been something Gilbert had chased after and it had been what was making his hindbrain react with such primitive hunting instinct: Francis was deliberately activating his prey drive. It made a growl rise unbidden in his throat. 

Francis didn’t have the opportunity to bat his eyelashes again before Gilbert was on him, pinning him fully against the wall and forcing his face into the space between his jaw and throat with hungry, savage kisses and bites and everything else in between.

He was pressing Francis back against the garish wallpaper and was forcing himself between his legs, slotting neatly against his body. Francis was hitching a leg up against Gilbert’s hip as they grinded together in a delicious slide of bodies and Gilbert attacked his neck with teeth and tongue to try and get more of that musky, rich scent.

Francis was patting him on the shoulder with some degree of urgency, which made Gilbert come up for air to check– 

He was beautiful, like this. Flushed and visibly winded, hair a mess and eyes wide and dark, mouth pulled into a crooked smile of delight. 

“–Ah, cher, would you like to relocate? I’m sure a more horizontal surface may suit our purposes bett–”

Whatever Francis had been about to propose was irrelevant, because Gilbert didn’t need a horizontal surface at all to shove his face back down into Francis’ chest to huff the collected musk and sweat there and nose against the lush blond curls.

Francis had gone through all this effort to present himself as prey to be hunted, and Gilbert was nothing if not dedicated: If Francis wanted to be mauled, then mauled he would be. 

EDITED TO ADD: thank you to kopifuran for this incredible fanart?? Please go show them some love!!