#how am i supposed to write smut under these conditions

[koucaine]

having a horrible evening, i have a stuffy nose n my thumb is tender to the touch bc i burned it while plating ravioli.

[the-lonelybarricade]

Was trying to finish AtRF for an upload tomorrow but your girl has flu symptoms and is not being brave about it

[moonhoures]

Relax

🕷️ kinktober — day 3: bath sex 🕸️

pairing: yeosang (ateez) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, established relationship, yeosang has a fractured ankle, reader gives yeosang a handjob in the bath, mentions of a blowjob but no actual blowjob (sorry 😣)

word count: ~2.6k

synopsis: after yeosang gets injured, you have no problem helping him in any way he needs ;)

a/n: i’m such a sucker for fics where one partner is injured and the other takes care of them ;-; so i had fun writing this ^_^

posted: october 3, 2023

kinktober masterlist

“Augh!”

Your boyfriend yelped out in pain, getting your attention all the way from the kitchen where you were loading the dishwasher. You quickly shut the dishwasher door and bolted to the living room to check on him. You huffed in disappointment, getting a sheepish look from your boyfriend in return.

“You’re not supposed to stand up without me to help you,” you chided him, gesturing for him to sit back down on the couch, “What were you trying to do anyways?”

He frowned, plopping back down onto the couch and wincing from the discomfort he felt in his ankle, “I was trying to get the TV remote.”

“You should’ve called me, Yeo, I’m literally in the next room,” you spoke to him with a softer tone now, grabbing the remote from the table on the opposite end of the room to hand it to him. You got a good look at him, noticing the bags under his eyes and the flushed tone in his cheeks. He was so tired and in so much pain. The medicine the doctor had given him for his fractured ankle could only help so much, but Yeosang had been taking it like a champ for the most part. He was just having trouble adjusting to the ‘relying on people’ part of his injury.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him when he didn’t reply to your first comment.

He sighed, slumping further into the cushions, “Just like every other day. Terrible.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you couldn’t recount how many times you had asked him that question this past week, but Yeosang was growing irritated from hearing it. He appreciated your help, he did, but he couldn’t help but feel so pitiful and useless in this condition. Not being able to move on his own without risking even further injury. He hated relying on you to do his daily tasks.

“No, I don’t want to bother you anymore than I already am,” he admitted, looking past you at the TV.

Now you were the one frowning, taking the empty spot beside him, “You’re not bothering me. I’m happy to help you with whatever you need. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel a little better, then I want to do it.”

He glanced at you with a hint of a smile on his lips, “You’re too nice.”

“I was thinking helpful would be a better word,” you joked, making him chuckle softly. Just then an idea popped into mind, “What about a bath? I could use the new bubble bath I got, and the salts you like.”

Yeosang was usually a shower kind of guy, but being that he wasn’t able to stand for long with his ankle and there was no room for him to sit in the shower, he had been enjoying the tub more. Some nights you let him use the lavender-scented salts you bought, and he seemed to relax more with those. When you would go in to help him out of the tub, he would comment how much nicer your stuff smells than the ‘manly’ stuff he used.

“And if you want a spa experience, I can pull up some jazz music and hot towels.”

Yeosang laughed at that, nodding, “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

You hopped up off the couch, glee apparent on your face as you did so, “Perfect. You stay right there while I go run the water. Don’t move a muscle!”

Yeosang watched with amusement as you ran off to the bedroom, and shortly after he could hear the faint sound of the bath water running. He didn’t realize, but he was grinning. He was wondering how he got so lucky to have someone in his life that cared about him the way you did. He thought he must’ve been a really great person in his past life, very charitable. He thought you must be his good karma returning to him.

“Okay,” you emerged from the bedroom several minutes later, “It’s ready for you.”

Your boyfriend waited until you got closer before he started to get up. You supported him with one arm, letting him rest some of his weight on you to keep it off of his left leg. He hissed as he took a step and felt the nerves firing in his ankle, making the limb below his calf ache.

“You okay?”

Yeosang nodded, and you helped him take the first step, then the next. A couple minutes later, he let out a sigh of relief as you both finally made it to the bathroom. You fixed him up sitting on the edge of the tub. He took a deep breath, a smile on his face as he took in the sweet smell of lavender and something else. That’s when he noticed the two eucalyptus candles that were lit on the counter across the room.

“Candles? Really?”

“I told you I was giving you the full spa experience,” you spoke nonchalantly, “Let’s get these off of you.”

He let you tug his shirt off of him, ruffling his hair up in the process. He pulled his shorts and boxers down to his knees, and you took them from there, cautious of his ankle while removing them. Then you stood by, body tense while you let him settle in the tub by himself, ready at any moment to help if he needed you. But luckily he didn’t need any help. He hummed in satisfaction, sinking further into the water, rippling the bubbles away from him.

“Is the temp okay?”

He merely nodded and hummed, looking as cozy as a baby in a snug blanket. You broke out into a smile, walking away to get a towel for him.

“Call me if you need anything,” you told him, leaving the towel off to the side where he could reach. His eyes widened, and he sat up a little.

“Wait- I want you to stay here with me.”

“For what?”

“I just- I don’t want to be by myself. Can you just stay here and talk to me?”

How could you say no?

“Of course I can.”

You sat down beside the bathtub, letting your left arm rest along the edge. You rested your chin on your arm, then tilted your head so your cheek was pressed against your skin.

“Have you talked to the guys recently?” you asked him, trying to find a conversation to start.

“Yunho texted me this morning,” he replied, “Said it doesn’t feel the same getting breakfast without me.”

Small, soft smiles widened on both your cheeks and his at the wholesomeness. You knew Yeosang’s injury was hard for him, but it was also hard on you and his friends. Not having the usual, happy Yeosang around was weird, but at least you lived with him. You could still hang out with him, and you slept in the same bed as him at night. His friends didn’t have the same fortune, and these days they were so busy they barely had time to visit him. At this point they were just counting down the days until he was clear to roam around on his own so they could resume as normal. The eight amigos.

“They all miss you, I’m sure,” you said. You let the fingers on your right arm dip into the water. Your fingertips grazed over the surface, twirling the suds, making them dance. You entertained yourself with them as Yeosang talked about taking things for granted before. How he wished he could do his day-to-day stuff like normal again.

“Like what?” you questioned him, “You can do all the same stuff, you just need help to do it. And like I said, that’s what I’m here for.”

“But-“ your boyfriend paused, then decided against what he was going to say. But now you were intrigued.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, ears turning pink. It seemed like he was a little ashamed or embarrassed of what he was thinking.

“No, tell me. What? Is my help not good enough?” you teased, “Because there’s no way you can say that after I did all this for you.” You gestured to the rest of the room.

He shook his head again, “No, you’ve been a big help. And I’m really thankful. It’s just- I need help with something that doesn’t have to do with my injury.”

The look he gave you was pointed, and at first you didn’t understand what he was implying. But it dawned on you after a moment. Of course, he was a human with needs and desires, and a body. Your eyes glanced down at the bubbles that were starting to dwindle down into suds, leaving empty patches of water on the surface. One patch just so happened to expose his half-erect penis in his lap.

When he first came home from the doctor’s, you were very strict about him taking it easy. You wanted him to recover as soon as possible. Sex was the last thing on your mind, and had been since. Your sole focus was taking care of him and making sure his needs were met, just not in that way. You weren’t even acknowledging your own needs in the process.

“Oh.”

“But it’s okay. I- I’ve been taking care of them, uh, when I get the chance,” his ears were red now, out of pure bashfulness. You found it cute. When he got like this, you loved teasing him, making him even more flustered.

“I’m sorry, my love. You should’ve told me,” you cooed, fingertips gliding across the water until they met his biceps. You grazed them, emerging from the water onto his wet skin. You felt him tense a bit under your touch, and it made your lips twitch.

“I was going to, but I felt bad. You’ve been helping me with so much. I don’t want to ask you for anything else,” he confessed.

“You’re not a burden, Yeo,” you assured him, making eye contact with him as your fingers came to rest on his shoulder. You drew lazy circles over his skin, making goosebumps appear on it, “I want to help you. With whatever you need.”

His eyes were hazy now, as if he was entranced by you. And honestly, he was. He had been thinking about fucking you for weeks now, but was unable to initiate anything in his state because he was nervous about furthering his injury in some way. And you weren’t initiating, so he resorted to suffering in silence. Eventually he got to the point that he couldn’t take it anymore, and he ended up fisting his cock furiously in the bathroom. But all he wanted was you.

He gulped when your hand moved to his chest, smoothing it over his pecs. Your fingertips pausing to squeeze his nipple lightly. He twitched, making you giggle. He was so sensitive. You loved it.

You trailed even further, breaking the water’s surface again to slip over his abs. The subtle terrain of muscles under skin that displayed how diligently he had worked out—well, up until he had fractured his ankle.

Then, you felt it. The sparse hair that grew along his V-line. The feeling of it had you drawing your lip between your teeth, because you knew what would soon follow.

The stretch of skin that led to what you really wanted. The base of his cock, now growing by the second. It was starting to throb in anticipation, turning red along the shaft. The thin veins were standing out. You wanted him in your mouth so bad, but you would have to make-do with your position right now.

You took him in your grasp, giving him the lightest squeeze, and yet he still let out a whimper. It was soft, so soft you almost missed it.

��How’s that, baby?”

“Good,” he squeaked out, “K-keep going. Please.”

The suds were almost non-existent by now, so you could see clearly everything you were doing below the water. You were both enjoying the show, eyes glued between his legs. His lips were parted, breaths coming out in pant-like bursts as you started to slowly drag your hand up and down his length. The friction was a little difficult to work through, but you were determined to make it work. You paused at the end of his dick, swiping your thumb over the slit. Precum floated through the water in little ribbons then disappeared. You couldn’t wait to have his cum do the same, and neither could he.

“Please,” he whined again, eyes closing for a moment. His hands were balling into fists at his side.

“Just relax, my love.”

He nodded, letting the back of his head rest against the edge of the tub. His eyes screwed shut even more as you continued to stroke him, a little faster this time. You saw his legs shift, moving the water in the tub. His body was preparing an orgasm all because of you. His chest moved up and down, and you could see his abs tensing. His fingernails were biting into his palms.

“________, it feels so good,” he whispered, “So much better than my hand.”

You bit back a smile, “I know, baby. Are you close? Can you cum for me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded eagerly, and as if on cue, his thighs tensed up.

You quickened your pace some more, an ache growing in your forearm, but you ignored it.

“What did you think about when you jerked off, Yeo? Me?”

“Yes,” he admitted it without hesitation.

“What about me?”

“Everything. Being inside you. In your mouth.”

“My mouth? You want to fuck my mouth, baby?”

“Yeah,” he moaned, eyes opening to look at you. You looked back at him with eyes full of allure, full of all the things he wanted and more. It drove him crazy, “Fuck, yes.”

“As soon as we get out of this bathroom, my mouth is all yours,” you said, watching his face twist into sexual agony. If it wasn’t for his godforsaken ankle, he would’ve had you bent over the bathroom counter already.

“Please,” he was desperate this time, and his body was getting closer to climaxing. He whined and his thighs thrashed, pushing the now-lukewarm water up along the tub’s edges.

Some of the water had managed to escape and roll down the outside of the bath, dripping down and falling to the floor. But you didn’t care, you ardently pumped his cock, choking up just below his tip. He loved when you did that, and it brought him even closer, until finally your name came out of his mouth in a whine.

His toes curled, and every part of his body clenched as rope upon rope of cum shot out of him and carried on the water over his lap. His cock twitched in your grip as your strokes slowed. Then you removed your hand from him completely, letting him recuperate. He melted into the water, sinking his shoulders below the surface. He sighed after a while of regaining his composure, but the tips of his ears remained a bright pink color.

“Best spa ever,” he breathed out, causing you both to laugh.

“I think if this was a real spa, I would be losing my job,” you joked, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

He turned his head to you, capturing your lips with his and deepening the kiss. He kissed you like he was hungry for you, teeth nipping at the skin of your lips. Your cheek was surprised to feel cool water when his hand reached up to hold it. The same, wet hand slid down from your face to your neck, fingertips digging into your skin the smallest amount. You groaned against his lips before he pulled away.

“Did you mean it? As soon as we leave the bathroom?” he asked, and you didn’t even have to think about it. You knew exactly what he was referring to.

“Yes, I meant it.”

“Then please help me get out of this tub.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

[uwabbittuwabbit]

some like it hot rosquez :) based on this picture this is my first time writing smut lol so apologies for the length :( also i am SHIT at writing dialogue i am so sorry

It's an ugly feeling. There's no air conditioning in the room they're staying in and Vale has Marc pressed into the mattress with his hand in his hair, the window thrown open as an only respite to the feverish weather. A rectangle of pure heat frames Marc's head, the sunlight separating it from the rest of his body that lies beneath the shadow of Valentino. They're both rank with sweat and as Vale mouths the column of Marc's neck he also tastes: sunscreen, the saliva in his mouth, the metal links of a necklace. Valentino grins, taking the chain between his teeth, and he pulls. He was always one to take the reins that were handed to him, to bite the bit when the time was right. And Marc is easy, so easy; a loud, choked off gasp leaving him as he follows Vale's lead, his head rearing back. Vale can feel Marc's throat working against the chain, the movement pressing the links into his tongue. Another sound escapes Marc, a little hiccuping whine, and Vale chooses this moment to let go of the necklace; rewarding him with a particularly nasty downstroke of the hips, his dick somehow feeling hotter than the searing entirety of Marc all around him. God, it was hot, his palm damp in Marc's hair, sweat dripping into his eyes and making them sting. He can feel Marc, how he bucks with impatience, that he's close, and he can see it in his minds eye, the finish, tunnel vision like in the straight before a checkered flag. So, Vale does what he would with the bike: chest pressed against the burnished skin of Marc's back, he brings it home.

"You should wear my things more", he tells Marc after, when they are no longer so sticky with sweat. He's rewarded with a breathy little laugh, and as Vale feels Marc's hand stroke through his hair he thinks he can still see the little indentations left behind by the necklace on Marc's neck, the number 46 still vaguely etched into the side of his collarbone. The feeling that overwhelms him, then, can only be described as terrifying. Never has he felt something so total and absolute for someone that it eclipses all reason, that he has to close his eyes to let it pass. When he has gathered enough sense back into himself, Marc's gaze is upon him, sweet and amber in the fading daylight. Maybe he fell asleep, the heat dragging him under, making everything slow, slow. Vale has always counted himself as one of the luckiest men in the world but he never thought he would be so lucky to have this, to walk off from the table having gambled all of his life's savings away but for one coin, one more bet left in the cards. That, he supposes, is love, and the sweltering confines of the cheap motel room suddenly become altogether too much again. The soft smile on Marc's face ticks into something sharper, bladed with mischief. "Well, obviously, since you're such a narcissist", he replies, oh the little bastard! Vale cannot help the incredulous sound that tumbles out of him. Inspired, he reaches towards the little charm of his number around Marc's neck, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it. Now it's Marc's turn to laugh his odd laugh, his shoulders shaking with mirth, eyes crinkled with it. "I am entirely full of myself but so are you," Vale declares, wiggling his eyebrows for maximum effect. He's an old dog with old tricks, but who is anyone except for Marc to judge? And Vale knows, sees Marc fall for it every time, his giggles intensifying as Vale sets upon him with kisses all along his neck and face. He was thinking of something more permanent, maybe. He was thinking about a ring on Marc's finger. But that can wait, because if anything, they have time. They have all the time in the world.

[badkitty3000]

Can you please do a soft physical touch five x vivi story? Not smut, but just sweet stuff, like laying together watching tv, or reading together, or just little handholds in public ykwim

So, this was a fun request! I really enjoyed writing this. I wasn't quite sure how to connect a full story together, though, so I made a few little vignettes of Five and Vivie during their normal day-to-day married life. I hope this is still along the lines of what you were hoping for. Let me know! 😽❤️

Your Touch

Five x OC one shot, 3,318 words

Warnings: Swearing

It was early in the morning and the dark clouds covering the sky were blocking out any of the morning sun that would usually be casting cheery rays across the bed. The sound of the rain just beginning to fall and the wind the storm was bringing in could be heard just overhead on the roof above them. It was cozy and warm under the covers and Vivian blinked a few times into the dimness of the room. When she realized it was early but she didn’t have to get up for work, she nestled deeper into the blankets with a relieved sigh. Then, about two minutes later, her eyes popped open again. Of course, she couldn’t fall back asleep now.

“Figures,” she muttered angrily.

Then she turned to where Five was sleeping peacefully and undisturbed next to her. A bolt of lightning flashed outside the darkened window and a loud clap of thunder quickly followed it, shaking the panes in the frame. Viv jumped but Five never even moved. She looked over at him with a frown.

“Man, that’s annoying,” she said to herself.

Five might have terrible nightmares some nights and would wake up in a blind panic, but the majority of the time he slept like a rock. He told Vivian it was because he had to get used to sleeping in all kinds of conditions, both in the Apocalypse and during assignments with the Commission. When Viv had questioned him as to how a supposed assassin could sleep that soundly, he explained that if there were any real danger, he’d be sure to wake up. She had her doubts.

Seeing as how it looked like she wasn’t going to be able to sleep any longer, Viv decided to get up and make some coffee. She tossed the covers back and sat up. When she put her feet on the floor, she felt an arm slip around her waist. She looked behind her to see Five, partially awake, but with his eyes still closed.

“No, stay,” he murmured as he tugged her back onto the bed. Viv smiled and let him pull her in closer, wrapping both of his arms around her. “You’re so warm,” Five said with a sigh.

“Are you just using me for warmth?” Viv teased, even as she snuggled into him.

“Yes,” he answered with a tiny upturn of the corner of his mouth.

“If that’s the case, I’m getting up,” she said, pretending to pull away from him again.

Five immediately grabbed her tighter. “Nope.” Then he opened one eye and smirked. “It’s dark and there’s a storm. Didn’t you hear that thunder? You’re staying right here.”

“Faker!” she cried with a giggle. “I thought you were sleeping this whole time.”

“I’m very good at playing possum. It’s a defense tactic,” Five said as he adjusted his body so Viv could rest her head on his chest and he closed his eyes again. “Have to catch your enemies off guard.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you’re supposedly napping when I need you to take the garbage out.”

“Damn it, I just blew my cover,” Five chuckled. Then he kissed her on the forehead and sighed happily. “Let’s just stay here all day.”

“I won’t object to that,” Viv answered. Then she looked up at Five with a smile. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I am not cute.”

“Yes you are.” Viv poked him in the chest. “You’re adorable.”

Five had no response to that except for a huffy exhale. They laid there in silence for a couple of minutes, just listening to the patter of the rain and the distant rumble of thunder. Five stroked her hair idly and Viv traced patterns with her fingertips across Five’s chest and arm. He rubbed his cheek across the top of her head.

“I think if this were my last day on earth…again…and I got to spend it like this, I’d be ok with that,” he mused.

Viv smiled and snuggled in closer. “While I certainly hope we have many more days ahead of us, I think I’d be pretty ok with it, too.”

❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️

“What are you reading?”

Vivian walked into their living room where Five was intensely studying the book in front of him; a glass of whiskey sitting on the side table next to him. He didn’t look up when she came in.

“A book,” he answered.

Viv rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I got that. What’s the book?”

Five glanced up quickly. “Modern Canonical Quantum General Relativity.” He looked back down at the book again.

“Sounds like a real page turner.”

Five shrugged, not picking up on the sarcasm, but didn’t look up. “Not really. It was published in 2007 so it’s pretty antiquated. And some of it is just laughably incorrect, but every once in a while, I stumble across something interesting.”

Viv snorted, trying to contain her laughter. “It’s a good thing you’re hot, because wow, are you a giant nerd.”

He gave one more quick glance up at her, his eyebrows knitted together. “Is there something I can help you with, or are you just here to bust my balls and interrupt my quiet time?”

She shrugged and plopped down onto the cushion next to him. “Pretty much just to bust your balls. But I was going to put a movie on unless that’s going to annoy you too much?”

Five gestured vaguely in front of him. “Knock yourself out.”

Viv looked over at her husband, who was deep in concentration while reading a book no other human alive would ever want to read, and she smiled to herself. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and flipped the page. She loved these little candid moments when she could just watch him and all of his little quirks that made him undeniably Five. And she loved that he never felt the need to hide them from her.

She turned the TV on and chose an old movie that she’d seen a thousand times before. Settling in, she swung her legs up and propped her feet onto Five’s lap. He moved his book out of the way to make room, giving her the side eye, and sighed dramatically.

“Must you put your stinky feet on me?” he grumbled, although he made no move to push them off.

“They’re not stinky!” She wiggled her toes to show off her purple cat socks. “They’re cute.”

Five made no comment, just gave an exaggerated eye roll and returned to his book. His free hand came to rest on the top of her foot, which she noticed with a small grin but didn’t say anything.

After a few minutes, he started to rub her foot with one hand, while holding his book in the other. Viv didn’t turn away from the TV screen, but she let out a soft little sigh as he massaged her sole and applied pressure with his thumb. After another few moments, Five finally set his book down on the table and turned his attention to the TV.

“So, what dumb movie is this?” he asked, as he started using both of his hands to knead her feet in earnest.

“Talladega Nights. Haven’t you ever seen this before, it’s a classic!”

Five just gave her a withering look and when Viv saw, she winced and smiled sheepishly. “Right. Apocalypse. Well, I keep saying you need to catch up on pop culture, so watch it with me. It’s hilarious.”

“It looks moronic.”

Viv sighed. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point. Now shut up and keep rubbing my feet, old man.”

“Pain in my ass,” Five grumbled under his breath, but continued his foot massage and shut up like instructed.

Halfway through the movie, they had moved so that they were both sprawled out on the couch, with Five spooning Vivian from behind. An old, soft blanket was thrown over the top of them. He rested his hand on her hip and would occasionally run his fingers up and down her arm or give her a quick peck on the shoulder.

Even though he mentioned several times how dumb of a movie it was, Viv caught him laughing during a few parts, which made her laugh even harder. She loved when he could finally relax and admit that even stupid shit like this was funny.

“Ricky Bobby reminds me of you a little,” Viv said with a giggle, referring to the idiot main character of the movie.

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“When he says ‘I wake up in the morning and I piss excellence’. Sounds just like you.”

As she snorted at her own joke and cracked herself up, Five huffed and pretended to push her off the couch before catching her at the last second when she shrieked. He pulled her in tightly against him, his arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze.

“You know, you’re not nearly as hilarious as you think you are,” Five told her as he poked a finger into her side, making her squeal. “I do piss excellence, though, that’s not a lie.”

“Oh boy…” she answered with a loud exhale. Then she took his hand in hers, drawing his arm even tighter around her. Five nuzzled his face into her hair.

“So, what bad movie are you going to make me watch, next?” he asked her with a soft kiss on top of her head.

“You want to watch another one?”

He nodded, closing his eyes with a smile. “I’ll watch whatever inane thing you want me to if you stay cuddled up with me like this.”

Viv turned her head toward him, putting a hand on his cheek and kissing him. “My sweet, snuggly, teddy bear of a stone-cold killer,” she said with a soft laugh, before turning back again and getting comfortable.

Five chuckled. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

Viv squeezed his hand and brought it up to give it a quick kiss. “Your secret is safe with me. Now, let’s watch Anchorman. You’ll love it.”

He sighed that sigh that meant he couldn’t believe how this woman had turned him into such a soft pushover. “Ok, darling. Whatever you say.”

❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️

“Do we have to go to this thing?” Five asked with a slight whine to his voice. He was standing in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, putting on his tie. “You know I hate this shit.”

“Yes, we have to go,” Viv told him for the tenth time as she fixed her earring. “We can’t be the asshole neighbors that ignore everyone else and don’t socialize at least a little bit.”

“Why not? I have absolutely no problem being that type of neighbor.”

Viv walked up to him, turning him to face her with hands on his shoulders. She started to straighten his tie and fix his shirt collar. “May I remind you that you are the one that wanted to move to the suburbs? This isn’t like the city where you can just blend into a crowd and not talk to anyone. We are expected to be cordial here.”

Five scrunched his eyebrows together. “Well, no one told me that. That may have factored into my decision, had I known.”

Viv smiled and shook her head as she patted his chest. “You’ll be fine. It’s just for a couple of hours.”

“And what kind of adult throws themselves a birthday party for turning 50? It’s absurd.” There was a pause and Viv braced herself for what she knew was coming next. “Do you know what I was doing for my 50th birthday?”

“Christ, here we go…” she whispered under her breath as she turned away.

“Digging a fucking hole in a dried-up riverbed with a worn-down stub of a shovel and my own two hands! Just to get some water to drink. Not throwing myself a stupid party.”

“Well, maybe you should have. Dolores probably could have used a break from your bitching,” Viv muttered before turning around and seeing his face. She broke out in a grin when she saw him standing there with his arms crossed, his head cocked to the side, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Sorry. But I really think you’re over-reacting. It’s just a party.”

Five stalked over to the bed and grabbed his suit jacket, shoving his arms through and shrugging it on. “Fine. But when I want to leave, we’re leaving,” he barked with a finger pointed in her direction for emphasis.

Viv approached him and took his hands in hers, looking up at his stressed-out face. “I promise we won’t be there too long, ok?”

Five’s muscles relaxed a little. “Ok, but don’t leave me alone for too long. I get…twitchy.”

She nodded and rubbed her thumbs over the backs of his hands, feeling the raised map of tendons and veins that traversed over them. “I know you do. But I won’t leave you. And if I see you’re getting too anxious we can leave.”

He gave a terse nod. “Alright. Now let’s go to this stupid fucking thing before I change my mind.”

The party was at a house down the street, so they walked over. As soon as they entered the crowded house, Viv heard Five groan next to her. Everything was decorated in streamers and colorful balloons, like a kid’s party, and many of the adult guests were wearing paper party hats. She grabbed his arm and gave it a squeeze as a warning. The host of the party had started making their way over to them, wearing a giant sash that said “Birthday Girl” on it, at just the precise moment that Viv felt the staticky sensation of Five’s powers prickling against her skin.

She leaned in a little closer to Five and whispered through clenched teeth. “Don’t even think about it.”

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but then the brief electrical pulse faded away and he plastered on a fake smile.

“Happy birthday!” Viv told the newly 50 year-old as she gave them a hug.

“Yes, happy birthday,” Five echoed dryly. “What a great idea to have a party like this. Like a toddler.”

Viv shot daggers at him, but their neighbor apparently wasn’t picking up on Five’s sarcasm.

“I know! I figured any excuse to act like a kid again and pretend I’m not old as dirt is a good one. There’s even a pinata in the back!” they laughed while clapping excitedly.

“Fucking hell,” Five exhaled quietly, with only his wife picking up on it.

Viv quickly intervened. “Thank you so much for inviting us, we’ve really been looking forward to it.”

“Of course! Now, help yourself to anything. There’s plenty of food and drinks. The bar is over there,” they pointed to an area towards the other side of the room that appeared to be staffed with a professional bartender.

“Thank you,” Viv answered.

“First bit of good news tonight,” Five said out loud, forgetting to be quiet.

Luckily, the host had already turned away and was on their way to greet someone else, so they missed the snarky remark. Viv looked up at Five with a scowl.

“Would you cut it out? You’re being rude.”

He sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. But can we go get a drink?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go. I could use one, too. I hate to admit it, but this party is a little weird.”

About an hour and two Manhattans later, Five was being cornered by another neighbor from across the street. The man was trying to sell Five on the importance of having a legal will drawn up, in the event of an untimely death.

“You don’t want to burden your loved ones with all of that responsibility when the time comes. And you never know when that will be, either, that’s the kicker. You could be walking down the street one day, and BAM!” He clapped his hands loudly for effect. “You get hit by a bus.”

Five took a sip of his drink with glazed over eyes. “Or you could watch yourself die right in front of you while the world collapses in on itself and you have an existential crisis.”

The man paused and tilted his head. “I don’t get it. Is that like a metaphor or something?”

Five swallowed and looked around the room for Vivian. “Something like that,” he answered blandly.

He finally caught Viv’s eye across the room. She was in the middle of a conversation with someone, but as soon as she saw Five’s situation, she excused herself and walked over to him. He had been standing with one hand in his pants pocket, and when she approached, she looped her arm around his. She immediately felt the tension in his body release. Five smiled down at her while the other man seized the opportunity to unleash his sales pitch onto another victim.

As Viv stood there, politely smiling and nodding along, she crept her fingers up under the cuff of Five’s jacket and slid them onto the inside of his wrist. Finding the area she knew was tattooed with the faded black Umbrella Academy symbol, she traced light circles over it. Five let out a quiet breath of air as some of his anxieties started to wane. After a few minutes of listening to the man’s ramblings, Viv cut in.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I just remembered we have to go let the dog out.”

The man frowned. “I didn’t know you guys had a dog. I’ve never seen it.”

Five jumped in, more than happy to play along with his wife’s lie if it meant he could get out of there. “Oh yeah, had it for years. Big giant thing, barks its head off all day.” He turned to Viv. “Well, dear, should we get going? Don’t want to keep Mr. Pennycrumb waiting.”

Viv blinked up at him with a smile and bit her lip to stop from laughing. “No, we don’t.” Then she turned back toward the very confused looking neighbor. “It’s been really great talking to you. Very informative.”

After a few hasty goodbyes, with Viv still attached to Five’s arm, they finally made it back out into fresh air and on their way home. Five slid his clenched-up fist out of his pocket and unfurled it to intertwine his fingers with hers. Viv briefly leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked along.

“You survived. Just like I knew you would,” she told him.

“Barely,” Five answered.

They were silent for a minute, their dress shoes clipping along the pavement while they walked hand in hand.

“Thank you, Vivie,” Five said quietly as he looked over at her. “I don’t know how you do it, but thank you.”

Viv stopped, standing in front of Five. She reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

Five took her hand and held it to his cheek before kissing her palm with a smile. “You know I’m a mess without you.”

She shook her head. “No you’re not. Sometimes you just need a little reminder that you’re not alone anymore, that’s all.”

Five drew her in for a hug and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “No, it’s more than that,” he said. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He leaned down to kiss her before they started back on their walk home.

“Just so we’re clear, though. If we’re ever invited to another one of those things, it’s been nice knowing you, because I’ll have jumped as far into the future as I can manage.”

Viv grinned up at him and took his hand again. “Well, take me with you next time, because that really was a horrible party.”

❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️❤️☂️

Thanks for reading! I'm open for requests or just to shoot the shit about Five. Please reblog if you like it! 😽

Here's a link to my Masterlist

[bitchlessdino]

hey, i’m back. recently i’ve been in my chanrot era so if you could please write a daddy kink chan smut i would really appreciate it. also thank you for the he mingyu smut, i was freaking out inside.-🎧

Pairing: bf!chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, light fluff

Word count: 2.1k

tags: initial reluctance (lighthearted), blossoming established relationship, daddy kink (initially just Chan), slight degradation, reader has tits, mentions of voice kink, asphyxiation, wall sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay

Summary: You've heard of dadless behaior but what is daddy behavior? You found it unlikely that the answer would be right under your nose. Better yet, already balls deep inside you.

author note: hiii, I'm back. and what a way to be back than to finish up a dino request. SK was amazing, everything was new and exciting. I'd be happy to answer any travel questions or if you wanna just pop in my inbox, I’ll graciously respond. I missed you guys <3

P.s. to 🎧 bestie I’m so glad you enjoy Mingyu’s fic and I hope you enjoy this one too!

He had you by your throat, cock plunged balls deep in your cunt, slamming into your cervix with every calculated thrust. A pool of arousal soaked into your bed sheets as your shallow breaths barely escaped. His upper body weight pins you stomach down on the mattress and his gaze falls on you, emitting unadulterated power. Lost in the world he’s created, he feels you shudder beneath him while you desperately call out to him in your beautifully strained voice.

A smug smile hangs low from his lips. “That’s right. What’s my name?”

“Daddy?”

You sputter, coughing on your own loud laughter as your boyfriend stares back at you with an unamused face in part to your reaction. This was how you initially reacted to the request of his suggested name in bed, pale in comparison to the idea of a reaction Chan had in mind when he thought to bring it up to you. He could only huff in annoyance as you doubled over on your stomach in playground laughter.

“Come on. It’s not funny. Just say you’ll try it out with me.” He whines.

“You think begging is daddy behavior?” The teasing persists with tears in your eyes.

He sighs in relinquishment before pulling himself up from the bed, his bare torso feeling the draft of the conditioned air as his eyes glaze over in the direction of the shared bathroom. “Forget it.”

“Wait, Chan.” You stretch out your arm to claim his wrist in your grip. Your laughter falters seeing the genuine disappointment in his eyes, forcing you to render yourself to a calmer manner, aiming to uplift his spirits, “Come on. I’m just playing. Don’t be upset.”

He scoffs, “The love of my life is laughing at me, in my face, how am I supposed to take it?”

“I’m not laughing at you,” you pull him back onto the bed, “Just…daddy? Really?”

“Yes, really. It wouldn’t hurt to try once.” He says in an utterly soft tone, and you feel your hard shell melt all at once.

Chan is many things. A good friend, a doting boyfriend, and an amazing lover (at least from what you could tell since you only started to have sex recently). ‘Daddy‘ was…different from what you were used to, and frankly just seemed uncharacteristic for Chan.

“Aw, love,” you run your hand through his hair, those pretty eyes looking back at you in a brew of longing and lust, “You’re so sweet and sexy as is. It’s…overdone. Why would you want to be called something like that anyway?”

“I’m curious. I mean…your voice is so pretty I wanna hear how you say it.” He whispers, and that alone causes whatever is in your stomach to do flips.

You roll your eyes in defeat, a love-struck grin on your face, and tug his arm to have it buried between your exposed breasts, their warmth causing a flutter in Chan’s chest. You tuck your chin on his shoulder, looking at him wide-eye, batting your lashes at him in keen interest. “Well. If…daddy…could tell me what this entails, I may just be a bit more interested.”

He digs his teeth in his bottom lips, pleased, and takes a hand to the side of your jaw to trace over it. His soft baritone voice drops an octave and his eyes narrow at you, “It can be whatever my baby desires.”

Your eyes glint from the reflection of the sun peaking through the bedroom window and bouncing off the vanity mirror. The corner of your lips turns up in a small smile, “How would me calling you daddy make things anymore different from what we already have?”

His hand smooths over from your cheek to trail over your shoulder and settles on your hips beneath the sheets. He presses his smile against your forehead, ghosting over your skin to do the same to the tip of your nose, just as delicately, and finally tucking them in the pillowy texture of your lips. You purse your lips to deepen the kiss, but he kisses you just as swiftly as he pulls away. He watches you through his heavy eyelids, seeing how your lips twitch at the loss of his presence, silently laughing to himself.

“Cute.”

How quickly he takes you by surprise by slamming back in the sheets, your eyes shooting back open immediately, heart pounding out of your chest. His hips gradually dip into yours, the outline of his bulge imprinting into your thigh, and you feel one of his hands creep down to the thin fabric of your underwear. A corner of his lips perks up feeling your anticipation soak through and create a thin film between the pads of his fingers.

“Wet? So early? I hardly done anything.” He snickers.

You let out a small whine, hand cupped over his cheek, thumbing its texture, “Can’t help it…daddy.”

He rubs into the fabric, tracing along your slit repeatedly until both his middle and index were evenly coated, your hips shifting beneath him, helplessly under his control. He hears how your breathing got more irregular.  A shift of focus is obvious within you and you could only do one thing at a time; breathe or enjoy the show. Lucky for you, he’d make it an easy choice.

“Well,” he draws his face close to hover over your ear, smiling wide as he says, “too bad you don’t get to cum.”

He pulls his hands away from your body, sticking his fingers in his mouth and retreating to the bathroom giggling. You sit up from the bed in disbelief, throwing the covers back on your body, “Chan! Really?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have laughed.”

Chan would be proud to know that you were eating your words. He was all you could think about for the rest of the day. His eyes and their allure, then his arms and their strength. You craved his attention, crossing one leg over the other, suppressing your innermost desires of him feasting on you like thanksgiving dinner. The hours of the day would drone on, and you were counting the second of every minute until you’d finally be reunited back home after a long day’s work. 

You needed it, especially from that morning, which would only replay countless times in your mind. Heat running to the apples of your cheeks remembering his musk, you felt a teenager again thinking about their crush as they passed the hallways. It seems as though he was no better as his hands were immediately on you the moment you greet him. Your hips parallel to one another, your wrists pinned above your head against a wall, and his heavy breath ghosting over your jaw. The scene brought a familiar shiver down your back, like a return of an old friend.

“Well, don’t you look pretty?”

The shape of his cock knocks at the surface of your core, gripping your wrists single-handedly, and drawing shapes on your skin with his lips, feeling you swallow from the base of your neck.

“Daddy, please…”

“What,” he taunts, tightening his grip, “what does my baby want?”

You gulp, “Fuck, daddy. I want you so much.”

You spoke from the pit of your stomach, clenching your abdomen as he presses up against you closer, already unbuttoning the top of your slacks. 

“What a dirty mouth you have.”

He abrasively tugs them off you, hands slipping underneath your underwear and feel proof of your words. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding.”

The obscenities that’d leave your lips the moment you felt his middle finger dip inside your warmth made Chan prideful. His eyes bore into yours while his fingers worked inside you, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“God, I could fuck you here and you’d be happy about it, wouldn’t you?”

He pours every ounce into his hands, your body uncontrollably sliding erratically over the wall, “Mmh, daddy, yes.”

“Such a good slut. All for me.”

He fucks into faster, the spillage falling to even down his forearm, you achingly gorgeous sounds of pleasure playing surround sound in his ears. He muffles them against his lips, hiking up your legs to embrace him as you leverage against the wall behind you, thrusting his still-clothed lower body into you. God, he wants to fuck you like a used-up rag doll.

“Fuck, daddy…you fingers…”

He slowly their pace, pumping them at controlled force in every interval. His sweat-damp hair reached his eyes, meeting your dumb-fucked gaze, “Yeah, yeah, they good?”

You choke on a breath as you feel him thrust inside deeper, “F-fuck, yes…”

You vibrated around him and he knew he couldn’t take it anymore. He holds you to the wall with his upper body but soon bares his lower body. His length teases your slit before his fingers flick at your pussy so suddenly, causing you to wince with a soft moan to follow.

“You think you can take me up against this wall, like a good little slut? Hmm?” He slaps them again. 

“Mm, daddy, please. I want it…I want your cock in me…”

A smug grin takes over before he watches it swallow inside you, pushing his filthy fingers in your mouth, defiling you in both his favorite ends. He drags his mouth over your nipples, hard to the touch, and readily available after your top was the first thing you undressed for him before he put you in such a situation. Squeezing them in a free hand, he mouths over it starved, flicking his tongue and sucking as if he was raging with thirst. 

His hands were now knuckle-deep in your mouth, hips lacking in remorse, and your gasping for breath would otherwise be concerning, but in this case, indicated the ravenous sin that took over your body, coating your tongue with your taste. He takes out his hand to wrap them around your throat, watching the sanity leave your body as he fucks you until pure submission. You were more object than human at this point. Yet, you felt so alive.

Your body was not used to something like this. You felt flushed at the touch, ecstasy mainlining in your veins, screaming a name you wouldn’t even say in your dreams, now rolling off your tongue like water flowing through a river. “Daddy, daddy, daddy—”

“I’m right here baby…You’re taking me so fucking well,” he groans.

“Daddy, more, daddy…”

“More? More?” He teases.

“Please daddy.” You spoke from the depth of your throat, feeling him return with more speed, knocking your ass back into the wall.

A manic smile spreads across your face and you gasp out in excitement, clutching around him until you could feel your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Yes, fill me, daddy. I want my pussy full of your cum.”

“You know just what to ask for, hmm? You want daddy’s load inside you?”

“Yes, daddy’s cum, please…”

Chan was growing tired but not of you, never of you. “You think you’ve been good enough for me to deserve it?”

You nod rapidly, “I’ve been so, so, so, so good. I want it. I deserve it.”

“Okay, well you better hold on tight. I have no plans to give you mercy.”

He takes either one of your legs to his side and you oblige, holding on to him as he delivers his promise. Your head knocks back into the wall rhythmically with no delay. His lips plant against yours naturally, harshly claiming your kiss and chewing on your bottom lip to sustain his momentum. Your hands ran through his hair, over his back, clawing at his ass; your orgasm wasn’t far along your path.

Your hips jerk against him, clenching his full length in your walls, vibrating to the kiss, unknowingly dripping so far past his thigh until practically reached his knees. He follows soon after. Thick warmth paints your insides one coat, a second coat, and then a third, but does not stop the man from pushing it deeper back into you, spilling into the floor without a second thought.

He ruts into you until you’re spent, which seems like it’ll never be the case at that point, and even carries you to the bedroom to use you again and again. Chest to sheet, your head being held up by his hand on squeezing the base of your neck, and your ass in the air fitted against his cock and torso. You could practically hear the echo of skin slapping and human suction bouncing off your walls. His stamina felt endless and you loved every restless second. As did Chan, realizing your answer to his questions and demands was a joy like no other.

“Ask again. Do you find this to be daddy behavior?”

“Yes, daddy.”

[theragnarokd]

/pathetic meow

i fell down and bruised my knee today, how am i supposed to write under these conditions

(also i am debating with myself whether smut happens this chapter and how much :3)

[anatifery]

Writeblr Introduction

Who am I? I'm Anatifery, progenitor of ducks, and I figured I should probably do one of these in an attempt to appear neighborly. I don't expect anyone to really read or even see what I post; I've never been big on social media and have never successfully garnered an audience. Quite simply, I have never had the drive to achieve a following beyond fleeting "what-ifs" and "really-shoulds." I was on tumblr long ago when the Deep Magic was written and then vanished from the world. I arise again because I've been locked in a state of post-covid affliction wherein I have little energy to do much of anything physical. I can type most days and I can think some days though the latter do not always intersect with the former.

The beginning of my internet self pre-dates extant social media platforms. That was the time of monsters never using your real name and that habit stuck with me. To be fair though I have never and wouldn't publish under my real name either unless I have no other choice.

I am generally pretty proud of my writing upon completion if only for the sheer fact that it is completed. I do not, however, think I am all that good of writer. The Clarion workshop seems to agree as I am a rejected applicant. That is perfectly okay.

Oh, and I suppose I should speak to pronouns. I accept any barring "it" and I would prefer not neo-pronouns. I have no judgments against neo-pronouns but they somehow feel less "me" than the classics.

What do I write?

A little of a lot. Ideally I would have something for everyone but I can obviously make no guarantees. I don't normally write smut nor do I often include instances akin to it in wider works but that is not to say that it will never happen. The primary genres and tropes that come up the most I would wager are sci-fi, low-magic fantasy, historical fantasy, and nearly always something close to romance with a queer character if some romance is appropriate at all. Some of what I'm working on the larger picture: Working Name "Therewolf" - historical fantasy set in Al-Andalus in the 17th century, in a world where the Reconquista did not occur (though this isn't really important to the plot). Maryam is a werewolf hunter and makes her living protecting towns from them. There are, unknown to the common people, no real werewolves on the entire Iberian peninsula though; she is a charlatan but actually a decent real wolf hunter which helps sell the scam. She gets drawn into a deep conspiracy when she finds her employer dead, hanged inside his own home in an apparent suicide. Working Name "Neon Apogee" - relatively standard cyberpunk fare (very imaginative, I know), and not to be conflated with my short story of the same name (same world, though). This follows Cahaya, a non-binary 'net investigator intent on solving crimes perpetrated by the elite upon the lower classes; the sorts of crimes that the police would never look into. In fact, it seems like the police themselves are often their primary suspects. Working Name "The Real Monsters" - a post-apocalyptic humanity has pulled themselves more or less together. They have religious prohibitions against robots and many types of automation, and have chosen instead to uplift animals to serve as workers. The problem, however, was never AI; it was how humans treat those they deem beneath them. This summary doesn't sound that inventive and I apologize for that but I do think I actually am bringing a nice spin on the whole thing. What do I post?

If and when I post, it will be short stories that I create to procrastinate from work on real manuscripts which I have a hope of publishing. Excerpts from the above will probably not be posted. At some point I may delve back into fanfic, especially if my condition does not soon improve. Those I would be willing to share parts of. I will be on AO3; I've already signed up just in case we come to it.

Thank you

If you gotten this far then I salute you but I wonder why. Thank you for your interest up to this point, though. Please follow me if you have any inclination. Any interaction here to be honest would put a smile to my face and warmth in my heart.

[herearedragons]

Fic writer ask, right back!

Number 4, 17, 56, 63 and 65! :3 (as many as you'd like, feel free to skip something if you don't want to answer!)

Fic writer ask game

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Well, I'm currently mostly writing for prompts, so I'm taking the easy way out here. But in general, I think it's mostly like "hey what if I combined this thing I like with another thing I like and it was like this other thing I like". I see things I like in media, and then I think about how I could spin that off with my own characters/setting in a way that's different, but keeps the aspects of the original thing that I find cool.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Depends. If it's a draft, something that's not supposed to be good, I might just power through and put something down, since I can always delete/rewrite that later. If I don't want to rewrite the work a bunch of times, I'll probably just leave it for a few days or however long it takes until I'm in the right mood again.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I try to be pretty purposeful with the flow of my writing. I also think I'm pretty good at choosing visual/sensory details to focus on in my descriptions.

62. Thoughts on cliffhangers?

They're great, I use them pretty often and I don't mind them in my reading either. Under certain conditions, I don't even mind cliffhanger endings! But I do think that a good cliffhanger ending is one where you can kind of infer or theorize what happens next, rather than end with absolute uncertainty.

63. Something you hate to see in smut.

I don't read smut, so I don't have anything to say about it.

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project.

I had this idea for putting my Inquisitors in a cosmic horror setting yesterday, and I don't have a full idea yet, but I kind of wonder what I could do with that. Or instead of doing it with my own characters, I could just take an aspect/character from DA and do something with that. I'll probably do at least one short thing to see if I can capture the vibe.

...and that's actually a good example of the first question, because that's just me combining one thing I like (DA) with another (cosmic horror ttrpg podcasts, specifically Candela Obscura, which I am watching right now and it's very good)

[baeddel]

what are your criticisms of privilege theory?

fuzzy. misplace of focus. excites the wrong moods in the listener. and lacks explanatory power for the most pressing questions. in order,

it's fuzzy when it fails to distinguish abstract from particular. you'll say this: all white people benefit from white supremacy. back when these apologetics were common you'd put a lot of emphasis on the all, the way all of us are equally implicated and therefore bear a like responsibility. but the other guy will say, how do all white people benefit from white supremacy? and you'll start to talk about odds and averages, about 16th century legal codes (and their vague legacy), and so on, and you're still hovering around in the abstract, the disparity between how likely you are to encounter some kind of event, for example, incarceration, or about general features of society, like certain laws, which may never come up for an individual person. so you're staying on this level of abstract reason and you can't explain why those statistical regularities matter, what conditions white people's actions qua their whiteness, or even, how any given situation in a white person's life can be explained by their whiteness. the invisible knapsack can never be opened and its contents can never be examined. this is an old problem. [the following anecdote is so misremembered it might as well be a parable i came up with; i correct myself here]  there's this recording of a 'struggle session' with the Black Panthers and a group of white American organizers, as i remember from poor rural backgrounds, and an argument breaks out between one Panther and one of the white men when the Panther remarks that the police 'exist to protect you' (or something similar), and the white man gets offended and says they sure aren't protecting him, because he's out there getting beaten by them and so on. the Panther is speaking abstractly, about an abstract white man, and this white man is talking about his own experience as a particular white man, so they will always talk past one another and that's what they did the rest of the session.

i am still 'on' this problem. you know how it is with me; i was tormented enough by internet arguments ten years ago to turn them into lifelong research priorities. early last year i made the above argument at length (in a long, demented, unpublished response to another anon, which was supposed to gradually transform into t4t smut, but it was abandoned in the second act due to theroetical blunders). i attempted to make my own account in 2019 here (pg 6-13; a similarly long, rambunctuous and abandoned piece of writing), engaing mainly with Maria Lugones, Nick Land and Achille Mbembe. since then i’ve read a lot of Marx and a bit of Hegel and now when i talk about it i tend to go on and on about ‘reflection’ and ‘grounding’ (eg. last december’s futapost, pg 2). i’m currently reading that book on the early modern causation debate for related reasons. something that was an influence on me was the discussion in Barnor Hesse’s preface to Conceptual Aphasia in Black (2016) about Alain Locke’s definition of race as a “social inheritance.”

it has a misplace of focus because it starts by trying to explain the benefits a white, male or cis subject can count on, which limits its scope to directly productive relations of exploitation, which in many cases either don’t exist or are not central to the oppressive relations under discussion. i make this point at length in this early 2021 post with respect to transmisogyny. Wilderson makes the point with respect to antiblackness in Gramsci’s Black Marx (2003). but so does Frére Dupont, Giorgio Agamben, Moishe Postone, Orlando Patterson, Jean Baudrillard, Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze & Felix Guattari, Jacques Camatte, Georges Bataille . . . in other words, privilege theory can’t interact with very much serious work on oppression and marginalization because they usually will proceed from an incompatible premise, that being, not all coercive social relations worth talking about are directly productive ones. a lot of the time privilege theory will count as privileges things like ‘i will never be followed around in a grocery store by a white person who thinks i’m going to shoplift’ (hastening to add for being black incase it does happen for some contingent reason, like being a stranger in a small-minded one horse town, which is ofcourse concretely possible if abstractly unlikely), such that a privilege can amount to a privation of oppression, which is an extremely unusual way to talk about any subject and is obviously an artefact of having an inexact premise.

it excites the wrong moods in the listener because it makes them feel ashamed, defensive, apologetic, self-conscious, ultimately self-centered and narcissistic, and it rewards race faking. your intersubjective task is to escape self-alienating consciousness, and, failing that, comfort, empower, inspire and mobilize. you should proceed from the knowledge that all men are ruled by rackets, “the rackets of clerics, of the royal court, of the propertied, of the race, of men, of adults, of families, of the police, of crime” (Max Horkheimer, Die Rackets und der Geist), and as a revolutionary your task is to make them feel safe, comfortable and articulate enough to escape theirs. to move their insular, sectional, beseiged subjectivity to something intersectoral, intersectional, and autonomous. no one needs to learn to sit down and listen, but to stand up and shout.

and finally it lacks explanatory power for the most pressing questions. that is to say, it cannot tell you what to do when your beloved comrades in the army of the oppressed defect to the Portugese side in exchange for promises of wealth and property, as did Amilcar Cabral’s, before he was assassinated and the revolution in Guinea defeated.

[sluttywonwoo]

something more || h.js x reader

Summary: it’s a tale as old as time- your roommate walks in on you masturbating and things escalate from there

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

additional warnings: additional warnings: masturbation, unprotected sex, choking, degradation, lowkey spit play

“Joshua! Come look at this!”

There were a lot of things you liked about your apartment. Cheap rent, nice views, mostly functioning air conditioning… however the gaping hole in your bedroom ceiling was not one of them. It had started out as a small leak a couple of weeks ago, water dripping from some imperceptible hole in the plaster that had slowly turned into a trickle and then a steady stream, until finally the ceiling had collapsed in on itself, unable to hold the weight of all of the water any longer. You had filed a maintenance request when you first noticed the leak, but it had gone ignored. Maybe now, now that your bed was covered in drywall and pipe water, now that you could see into the apartment above yours, your concerns would be important enough to be addressed.

“What is it?” your roommate called back.

You heard him approach and waited for the gasp that would follow. “Y/n…” he hissed, one hand over his mouth, the other gripping your shoulder in shock.

“I know.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

You sighed and took a tentative step forward into your room, wincing when your sock made contact with your damp rug.

“I’ll call maintenance,” Joshua offered and turned on his heel to grab his phone.

“I’ll… try and figure my shit out, I guess.”

His footsteps faded into the background as he retreated into his own room and you looked around your room with a frown, surveying the space for anything salvageable. You were surprised you hadn’t started crying yet. But apparently your brain hadn’t quite caught up with your eyes because all you felt was a numb sort of apathy as you gazed at the mess in front of you.

There was no way you could sleep in your room tonight. Even if you managed to dry everything and clear the debris, there was still a giant fucking hole in the ceiling. The mere thought of trying to fall asleep underneath it made you uneasy. You would have to crash somewhere else.

“They said not to touch anything-” Joshua shouted from the other room. You froze in place, afraid you’d already done something you weren’t supposed to and decided to join him in the kitchen instead.

Your socks left wet footprints against the concrete floor as you padded over to where Joshua was. He shot you a look of sympathy as you peeled them off and tossed them to the side, shifting his attention back to the notepad on the table in front of him to write something the person on the other end of the phone was saying.

The pen hovered above the paper momentarily, and Joshua rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow? Is that the earliest- yeah that’s fine.”

The little hope you’d had that the issue would be resolved tonight fizzled, and you blew out a breath of frustration. You pulled out your phone and began scrolling through your contacts, mentally making notes of who might let you spend the night at their place.

Joshua thanked whoever he was talking to and hung up, pushing the notebook away from him with a groan.

“They’ll be here tomorrow morning,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Seungcheol.”

Joshua made a face. “Seung- why?”

“I’m going to ask if I can sleep over.”

“You haven’t talked to him in months,” your roommate protested.

“He’ll say yes to me,” you assured him.

“That’s because he expects you to sleep with him.”

“I know.”

“Y/n! You’re not seriously going to have sex with him in exchange for a place to stay, are you?”

“Well when you put it like that…” you trailed off and sighed. “Whatever, I’m not above it. It’s been a while since I’ve been laid anyway.”

“Seungcheol couldn’t even last thirty seconds-” he paused when you gave him a look, “I know from what you’ve told me. Not because I slept with him.”

“You know saying that makes it sound like that’s exactly why you know.”

“Please, y/n, I have taste,” he said matter-of-factly, easily dodging a swat from you. “You’re not sleeping at Seungcheol’s,” he said as if he’d decided, as if he had final say on the matter.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Joshua?” you demanded. “I can’t sleep in my own room, and you know I can’t sleep on the couch so what do you suggest?”

“Take my room,” he offered simply, shrugging like it should have been obvious.

“What?”

“You can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. You don’t even have to fuck me for it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well what do I have to do for it?”

You could tell Joshua wanted to say ‘nothing’, but knew you wouldn’t accept his offer without feeling like you could give him anything in return so he settled for “fried rice”.

“You want fried rice?”

“I want your fried rice,” he clarified with a grin. “You know it’s my favorite.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Fine. Thank you, Joshua.”

He gave you a knowing smile and nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

-

Joshua kept his room colder than yours. Your wet hair from the shower only made the chill worse, but you didn’t want to mess with the thermostat and throw off how he liked things. You were even hesitant to touch the pillows on his bed. You knew Joshua wouldn’t care, but you still wanted to respect his space.

Joshua was literally the most easygoing person you knew, which offered a nice balance in contrast to your high-strung, perfectionist personality. One time you’d bled on his sheets while you were just hanging out in his room and he was completely unphased. He just threw the bedding in the wash like nothing had happened and mentioned that he’d been needing to wash them anyway while you practically cried in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, y/n. I’ve had girlfriends before.”

“Yeah, but I’m not your girlfriend!”

“We live together, close enough.”

To be fair, you knew that this kind of thing happened all the time, but you were still mortified. You didn’t even pay attention to the rest of the movie you and Joshua had been watching. To this day you didn’t know how the Lego Batman Movie ended.

“You need something to sleep in?” Joshua had asked on your way from the bathroom back to his room, having noted your state of undress.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to make the trips to and from the shower in nothing more than a towel, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to go back into your room tonight, and that most of your clothes were still damp from the ceiling anyway.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

He just nodded from where he was on the couch and gestured past you in the direction of his door. “You know where everything is. Pick out whatever.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You’d chosen an old t-shirt from a gas station souvenir shop, one of many in his collection of road-trip tees and a pair of panties you had managed to snag from your dresser before Joshua had yelled at you to get out of your room earlier.

You hung your towel on a hook attached to the back of his closet door and sprawled out on his bed, pulling the comforter around yourself.

It was late. It had been late for a while, but you and Joshua were night owls. You both kept busy schedules, so at night you liked to take some time for yourselves before bed. Still though, you knew you should sleep. But you couldn’t.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to relax your muscles.

If you were being honest, the idea of getting laid had been exciting and you were a bit disappointed it wasn’t going to happen for you tonight. It had been a while since you’d been with anyone, and you were craving the intimacy, even if it was coming from someone like Dylan.

Your skin was beginning to feel hot and sticky, and you pushed the covers off of you in your frustration. You had just been cold a few moments ago, and all it had taken to make you sweat was the mere thought of sex. It was pathetic, you were pathetic, and you knew it.

Your fingers inched toward the waistband of your panties almost unconsciously before you stopped yourself. You were in Joshua’s bed. You shouldn’t be getting yourself off in his bed. That was wrong. It wasn’t your room, there must be some sort of boundary for this sort of thing. Roommate code. What if Joshua walked in on you- no. You clenched your fists by your sides and sighed. The idea of your roommate walking in on you with your hand down your pants should not be turning you on. It should be having the opposite effect. But you couldn’t help it.

You had managed to suppress your attraction to him for this long, being in his bed shouldn’t be the breaking point. Maybe it was because his sheets smelled like him, or maybe it was because you were wearing his shirt…fuck, you wished you had your vibrator. The little pink toy was sitting in the drawer of your bedside table, likely water damaged beyond repair. God, hadn’t you lost enough?

“Forgive me, Shua,” you whispered hoarsely into the empty room as you resigned yourself to your pleasure.

Your pussy had won over your head and you’d given into your desire. Familiar sparks of arousal flickered faintly in your stomach when you brushed the tips of your fingers over your panties. You weren’t shocked to discover that the material was already damp from where your wetness had seeped through.

You tried to think about Seungcheol, about your celebrity crushes, about anyone other than the person behind the other side of the door, but your mind kept drifting back to your roommate. You thought about what Joshua’s fingers would feel like instead of your own. They were so much longer than yours… you stifled a moan as you curled a finger into yourself and let your thumb begin to circle your clit, imagining Joshua’s head was buried in between your thighs instead.

Getting yourself to the edge was usually difficult for you without the help of toys or a third party, but you surprised yourself when your thighs began to tense in anticipation as you worked your fingers over your g-spot repeatedly, orgasm just out of reach. You were trying to be as quiet as possible, but you kept letting quiet sighs and curses slip from between your lips as your focus began to blur.

You pictured Joshua pushing himself into you, pictured how his face would scrunch up in pleasure as he felt you clench around his cock for the first time, how he’d kiss your neck and praise you for taking him so well- you bit down on your knuckles to stop yourself from screaming.

The invisible string inside of you snapped right as the door to Joshua’s room swung open and you were forced to rip your hand away from yourself as you came and your pussy clenched around nothing.

The light overhead flicked on and you squinted, groaning at the sudden blinding intrusion.

“Sorry,” Joshua apologized sheepishly. “I just forgot a pillow.”

You used your dry hand, the knuckle-bitten one, to throw him one of the pillows from behind you. He caught it with ease and you thought that would be it, but he zeroed in on your hand, narrowing his eyes at it with a confused expression on his face.

You hoped he couldn’t tell that you were still trembling from the aftershocks of your ruined orgasm, hoped he didn’t question why you were so flushed and breathless.

“What happened to your hand?” he asked, tossing the pillow aside and taking your hand into his own to observe. “You’re bleeding.”

Damn, you hadn’t meant to bite your hand that hard.

“It’s nothing,” you said and tried to yank your hand out of his grasp, but he was holding onto you too tightly.

“I have some Band-Aids in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Shua you don’t have to-”

He was gone before you could finish your sentence, and back before you could protest any further. While he was in the bathroom you hurriedly wiped your other hand on your- his- shirt in an attempt to erase any evidence of what you had been doing just moments before he had interrupted.

“Give me your hand,” Joshua instructed, taking a seat on the bed so that he was facing you.

You outstretched your arm so that he could see the damage and watched as he dabbed a tissue at the specks of blood on your skin, applying pressure to stop the flow.

“It’s just a little scrape,” you insisted.

“Still, we don’t want it to get infected.”

“I guess,” you mumbled.

Once he was sure that you had stopped bleeding he dabbed a tiny bit of Neosporin onto your knuckle and wrapped a Spider-Man Band-Aid around your finger.

“Thank you.”

“Wait, I’m not done!”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to kiss it better.”

You rolled your eyes but gave in, lifting your hand to his face princess style. He pressed a gentle kiss to the Spider-Man Band-Aid and took a moment to admire his work. It was only when he was holding your hand closer that he noticed the indents in all of your other knuckles.

“Why were you biting your hand?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

There was no use in lying about it, the marks on your hand were clearly teeth marks. He would know you were bullshitting if you tried to play it off.

“I wasn’t.”

So much for that.

Joshua blinked. “Show me your other hand.”

“What? No.”

“Show me.”

“No!”

You grabbed the comforter and pulled it tighter to you while Joshua tried to wrestle it from your grasp.

“I swear to God, y/n,” he muttered under his breath.

You put up a good fight, but he was stronger than you and tugged it off of you within seconds of struggling. He pushed you back onto the bed and used his body to pin you to the mattress so that you couldn’t wriggle away. Now that you were stuck underneath him he was able to assess the hand that you had been trying to hide. You whimpered in embarrassment and watched in horror as he brought the hand… brought the hand to his…

“Joshua, what are you doing?” you breathed out.

He looked at you brazenly and then put two of your fingers in his mouth. You shivered as he sucked the arousal, the evidence, from your fingers to confirm his suspicion.

“You’re a liar,” he said finally.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered.

Joshua chuckled to himself and let your hand fall back to your side. “And a brat too.” You scoffed in offense but Joshua just leaned down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “I already knew that, though.”

“Excuse you, but I am fucking delightful!” you argued.

“I never said you weren’t!”

“You just called me a brat!”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

“I hate you.”

“So you… don’t want me to… give you a hand there?” he asked.

You paused. Was he really offering to-

“We’re friends, Joshua. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to.”

You could feel your heart beating in your throat and in your pussy. Joshua was your best friend and your roommate… but was there something more? Right now you wanted him more than you had ever wanted anyone. This couldn’t end well.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Joshua was back on top of you as soon as the words left your mouth, pressing his lips to yours while one of his hands tangled itself in your hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned softly into his mouth. You found yourself wishing the moment could last forever, but you quickly changed your mind when you felt Joshua pressing his thigh up in between your legs. Lazily making out was nothing compared to what he was doing now. He brought a hand to your hip and urged you to move. He guided you until you were rocking back and forth on his thigh at a steady pace.

“Feel good?” he asked.

You could only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Your panties were the only layer between your pussy and Joshua’s leg, and although they were certainly ruined by now they still provided the means to create friction that went straight to your clit.

Joshua’s hands fiddled with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing and he tugged at the bottom of it, motioning for it to come off.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Another nod from you and he was whisking the shirt off over your head without a second’s hesitation. He was pulling his own shirt off next, tossing it into a pile on the floor with yours. His fingers found the waistband of your panties soon after, and he played with the elastic impatiently, eager eyes searching yours for approval. You lifted your hips off of the bed so that he could take them off, leaving you completely naked before him.

Joshua let his gaze travel down your body, shamelessly admiring every dimple, curve, and freckle that was now exposed to him. You shifted under him self-consciously, silently wishing you had shaved. If you had known you’d be fucking your best friend, you would have, but it was too late now and you could only hope he wasn’t bothered by a little hair.

“How are you real,” he murmured to himself, earning an eye roll from you. Joshua reached out and dragged a finger through your folds, smiling when you flinched. “So sensitive…” he noted. “Did you cum already?”

“Yes, but it was ruined,” you admitted.

“Poor thing,” he tsked in fake sympathy, bringing his hand back up to his mouth. “Just wanna nother taste. You’re too sweet to resist.”

“Shua,” you whined.

“What is it, baby?”

“I need you.”

He smiled down at you and took you by the chin, tilting your face up towards him. “You already have me.”

“You know what I mean!”

“But I want to hear you say it.”

You groaned stubbornly and twisted your head out of his grip, only to let out a yelp when he closed a hand around your throat.

“Stop being a brat,” Joshua spat as he forced you to look at him again. “I’ll give you one more chance to be a good girl, got it? Good girls use their words to tell me what they want. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you choked out desperately.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

“I’ll be a good girl.”

“So what is it that you need, love?”

You swallowed your pride and opened your mouth to respond. “Your cock, please.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Joshua asked, cupping a hand around his ear as if he couldn’t hear you.

“I want- I need your cock, please.”

“Atta girl,” he praised and eased the grip around your neck. “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head weakly and watched as Joshua pushed his boxers down to his thighs, then onto the floor, letting his cock bounce up against his stomach. He was fully hard already and you wondered how long he’d been like that, wondered how he had so much self-control when you barely had any.

“We can stop whenever you want, okay?” Joshua said, face softening and hand gently cupping your cheek. “Let me know if it’s too much. Just tell me what you need, baby.” You nodded obediently and met him halfway as he leaned down to kiss you. He broke away from the kiss suddenly and held a hand underneath your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered.

You complied and sat up a little to spit into his hand. He worked that same hand over his cock a few times, using your spit to lubricate it before positioning himself over you.

“Is this a good idea?” you blurted right as Joshua was about to push himself into you, suddenly aware that you wouldn’t be able to go back from this as soon as he did.

You had shoved any feelings you’d had for Joshua down for so long and it would be impossible to keep doing after sleeping with him. But you had already come this far.

“Probably not,” Joshua answered with a shrug. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Great.”

A brief moment of silence lapsed while you both stared into each others’ eyes, not quite sure where to go from there.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Joshua said casually after thirty more seconds of silence.

“Yes, please do.”

You braced yourself for the stretch as Joshua pushed into you at an agonizing pace and sank your teeth into his shoulder to relieve some of the pressure. Joshua groaned at the feeling of you pulsing around his cock, a feeling which was only heightened by you nipping at his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“You’re… so big,” you echoed back.

He allowed you a few moments to adjust before he moved. You were already so worked up that he slid in and out of you easily and it wasn’t long before he was pounding into you at a fast tempo. He pressed hurried kisses to your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of hickies to remember him by.

You cried out each time his cock hit your g-spot, overwhelmed and still sensitive. Joshua kissed you to drown out your moans, clamping a hand over your mouth in his stead whenever he came up for air. His other hand was up against the wall for stability, though it wasn’t helping much.

“Joshua,” you gasped.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you choke me again, please?” you all but begged.

Joshua smirked. “Of course.”

He did as you asked and cursed when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in closer.

“See what happens when you’re a good girl and ask nicely?” he teased, cocking his jaw arrogantly. “You get rewarded.”

You could feel your orgasm building in your abdomen as Joshua continued to thrust into you and wondered if he was close too. You guessed that he was from the way his hips had began to falter.

“Up,” Joshua commanded suddenly.

He slipped out of you and grabbed you by the shoulders, hauling you into a sitting position.

“On your hands and knees,”

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

“You don’t want to find out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Should I finish myself off, then?” he asked, pumping his cock lazily as if he expected you to call his bluff. “Leave you here needy, not let you cum?”

“No, please!”

You quickly got into position on all fours with your back to Joshua praying that he wouldn’t make good on his threat.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

You fell forward on your face when he shoved his cock back into you only for him to tug you upright by your hair. He fucked you like that in doggy for a minute or so before he snaked an arm around your upper body and pulled you flush against his chest. Being seated on his lap allowed Joshua the ability to touch practically anywhere on your body. He took advantage of the new position by grabbing your tits.

He was so fucking deep in you like this you couldn’t stand it. Every tiny movement brought you closer to the edge and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last.

“Shua, I’m close,” you warned through broken gasps.

“Don’t cum yet.”

“Why not,” you whined.

“You’re not allowed to cum until you answer this question for me,” he said breathlessly.

“What is it?”

“When you were touching yourself earlier, who were you thinking about?”

“I-”

“Was it Seungcheol?”

“No.”

Joshua’s fingers found your clit and began rubbing circles around it, making it that much harder not to disobey him.

“Fuck, Joshua…”

“Who was it?”

“It was you! I was thinking about you!”

“Do you always think about me?” he pressed.

“You only said one question,” you accused defensively.

Interrogating you while he had you on the brink of orgasm was not fair.

“Fine, cum.”

You cried his name as you finally came. He held you through it, your orgasm triggering his own as you clenched around him repeatedly. Your name tumbled from his lips too, while he lost himself in the midst of pleasure. You couldn’t see his face as he came, but you could imagine it, like you had hundreds of times before. The way his hair would stick to his forehead, the way he’d bite down on his lip and squeeze his eyes shut as he let go of control…

You couldn’t see him as he came, but you could feel him. You felt his entire body tense behind you, felt the warm spurts of cum fill you up, felt the way he instinctively grabbed at your throat to anchor himself.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity as you both caught your breath. Joshua collapsed on the bed with you in his arms, cock still buried inside of you. He brushed your hair out of your face and turned your head so that he could look into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded sleepily and gave him a weak smile. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I wasn’t too rough?”

“No, you were perfect.”

He kissed you again without a second thought and you kissed him back. It felt familiar and warm, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Here let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling out of you.

You winced at the empty feeling, but laid in bed motionlessly and let Joshua dote on you. He used a warm washcloth in between your thighs and wrapped a new Spider-Man Band-Aid around your hurt finger. He slipped back into his boxers and tossed you another pair of his to wear before fetching you a glass of water from the kitchen and making you drink it all.

Joshua returned to bed finally and snuggled up to you instantly. You nestled yourself into the crook of his arm and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I thought I didn’t have to fuck you to sleep in your bed,” you said quietly once he had gotten comfortable.

“Shut up.” There was still a lot to discuss between the two of you, but nothing that couldn’t wait until morning. For now you were content to fall asleep in his arms and ignore all of the unanswered questions bouncing around in your mind. “For the record, I still expect my fried rice.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

send me an ask to be added to my taglist(s)

[neonacity]

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.6

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age, drugs, slight smut for this chapter but nothing graphic, questionable consent (?) I guess? Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

“EVERYONE HAS A DARKER NATURE. EVERYONE. GOOD MEN FEAR IT, AND EVIL MEN EMBRACE IT.” - JAMES ISLINGTON

The silent hum of the air conditioning filled the space like a foreboding chant. Nothing else but the sound of the hospital machinery and random noises outside pierced the stillness of the room as you stared, unseeing, at the green and orange numbers that blinked on the monitor above the bed. 

You barely have any recollection of how you managed to find yourself in the hospital, but you do remember brief memories of Taeyong picking you up from the floor you found yourself crumpled on after you got the call. You remember seeing Jaehyun's parents at a brightly lit corridor and his mother pulling you into a hug as she broke down and his father telling you how his son hasn't woken up since he was brought to the emergency room.

You remember your heart breaking in shock, mind too numb from the godforsaken pills you have been taking and your own injury. So many times you wondered to yourself if you were still caught in one of your nightmares, but every time you tried to break free from it, you're slapped back with the reality of how all of this is real.

Your fingers gently tightened on Jaehyun's hands now as your gaze landed on his face. He looked so peaceful, like he's just sleeping, that you almost wanted to bend over and try to kiss him awake. You don't even have any idea what time and day it is already, but you have barely left his side since you were brought to him. The nightmares and sleeplessness? They're barely a problem for you anymore because right now, you're entirely not resting at all unless your body forces you to crash from physical exhaustion. Even then, you usually only sleep for about two to three hours at best to make sure that you never miss a moment with your fiance.

"Severe traumatic head injury. He was lucky enough that the airbag shielded him from the worst of the impact."

The words of his attending doctor echoed in your head again like a faraway voice. You could only remember bits and pieces of what he said to his parents back then as he reported his findings, but you caught enough context for you to draw a picture of the situation. You remember Jaehyun's mother asking the chances of her son waking up again, her voice barely holding up from her emotions. 

"I cannot promise anything, Ma'm. I'd say he has a 60 percent chance. He's fighting."

And he is. You know Jaehyun inside out. He might be unconscious now, but there is no way he is giving up. Not from something like this. 

"Keep fighting baby…" you whispered in the stillness of the room as you lifted his hand gently to your lips to kiss. "I'll wait for you. We still have a wedding to do."

The slight creaking of the door barely made you look away from his sleeping face. You only did at the gentle sound of a throat clearing, your eyes slightly widening as you recognized the man who just walked inside the room. Taeil had the same mildly shocked look on him as he stopped on the  other side of the bed across from you. 

"You…"

"Are you a relative of the patient?" He asked now as he tucked his clipboard under his arm. You simply nodded, watching him quickly glance at the numbers on the monitor before his eyes settled on you again.

"I'm his fiancee."

That made him raise his brows slightly. He pulled a pen now from the pocket of his coat to quickly write something on his file. "What a coincidence. Not a good one obviously. I'm sorry to hear about him. Mr. Jung, right?"

You swallowed. You didn't want to acknowledge anything that he just said so you tried to divert the conversation instead.

"You're not his doctor. Why are you…"

"Oh. He was turned over to me today. I am one of the resident neurologists here but he had to be moved to me because his first doctor has too much in his plate already. Don't worry, I was briefed properly about his case."

Your gaze followed Taeil as he bent over to check Jaehyun's oxygen level as well as the other wires attached to him. You don't know what to feel about him taking over, but at least you already know him previously.

"Are there any changes? Positive ones?" You asked in a frail voice that Taeil definitely didn't miss. You told yourself to not act silly and ask questions that probably do not have answers yet, but you couldn't help yourself now. The man seemed to think over his words first, noticing your state, before calmly giving his reply.

"No particular ones, but the fact that there are no negative developments is… something. I will have to request for some tests to be done on him again tomorrow so we can see if there are positive changes in his brain."

Neutral. Not good, but at least it's not bad either.

"How are you? I was about to check on you again. Is your head okay?"

You were still thinking over his words that you barely caught his question. Looking up, you tried to scramble for an answer to give. To be honest, you haven't given proper attention to your own injury since this happened. You would even only remember to take your medications on your clearest, less anxious moments, which, honestly, isn’t a lot. 

"I'm uh… the wound has closed. But the headaches. They're still there."

He simply nodded. "Any other side effects?"

You didn't immediately answer. You didn't want to sound whiny, but it's not like you're going to lose anything by telling him the uglier parts of your recovery. You swallowed to try and dislodge the slight blockage in your throat.

"Nightmares…" you said now, voice soft. You briefly remembered the last one you had back in the manor before you woke up to the bad news and you felt your stomach turn again. "Lots of them. Hallucinations sometimes…"

The doctor watched you carefully and you know he is trying to compute things in his mind despite his face remaining calm.

"Have you been keeping to your schedule with your medications? Are you taking too much?"

You firmly shook your head no to his last question.

"No, I haven't been overdosing. But… I've been skipping my pills the last few days because of...because of this."

"How have you been feeling since you started missing your dosages then? Do you remember?"

That made you actually stop and think about it for a moment. Now that you are paying attention, you did notice how the nightmares have calmed down slightly. Even the hallucinations are almost gone. You frowned slightly to yourself.

"A bit… better actually."

Taeil took his time to observe you a bit more before writing something on a new page of his clipboard.

"You must have had severe reactions to the mixture of pills I gave you. I'm going to prescribe you new ones and ask the nurses to pick them up and bring them to you here. Can you promise that you'll try and take them though? You really need them to fully heal."

You nodded and gave him a slightly sheepish look.

"I will, thank you very much."

Taeil dug his hands into the pockets of his coat and gave you a gentle smile.

"Well, that's it for today. I'll come back tomorrow to give you updates about Mr. Jung." He had already turned and started walking away when he suddenly stopped to look at you again.

"Oh, and another thing. Please try and get some sleep. Recover… and then focus on helping your fiance."

******* You didn't really know what woke you up. Stirring from your sleep, the first thing that registered to you was the sound of distant traffic mixed with the gentle chirping of the morning birds from outside the window. A warm feeling radiated on your cheek and made the back of your eyelids glow red.

You flickered your eyes open and immediately rolled away to escape the ray of sunshine that slipped from the open curtains and shone directly at your face. You easily evaded it as you moved over to the other side of the bed which was empty and cold from the night before.

That was when you finally remembered that you were back in your home, in the same bedroom you share with Jaehyun. The day before, his mother offered to take the responsibility of watching over him so there was a sudden change of plans that finally gave you the reason to check back into your apartment after so long. If it were you, you would have preferred not leaving your boyfriend’s side until he wakes up, but you also knew that your future mother-in-law wanted to spend time with him so you relented. 

Of course you weren't thrilled to be home alone, especially with Jaehyun not being there, but the comfort that a real mattress provided—over the small couch you used to sleep in back at the hospital—is definitely a welcome change for your body. You even tried to take your medicine properly, the new ones that Taeil had provided, in the hopes of getting knocked down fast. Your adrenaline and anxiety had been fueling you in the past days, but you know from the way your heart thumped and your hands shook that you need a solid rest.

And you got it. You still feel a little groggy now but your body is definitely lighter and your head clearer. The nightmares didn't even come, and while they were replaced by total darkness or dreams in white that still made you anxious, you are willing to take those anytime over the graphic ones that you used to have.

You gently sat back against the headrest of the bed now and reached out for your phone to check the time. It's barely 7AM but as expected, Jaehyun's mom has already provided you with updates from the hospital. He’ll have some tests taken today as Taeil advised and then they’ll hear more about his progress. From the looks of it, she seems still set on watching over her son, which means you still have at least today free to yourself.

You quickly typed a reply to her and sighed. You’re thankful that even though you weren’t related by blood, his parents have always treated you as if you were their own. Having a family is not something you’ve really experienced in your childhood, so that’s something you’ve always appreciated about them. That is also the reason why you wish for the best out of this situation, because you also couldn’t bear seeing your fiance’s mother and father heartbroken. He’s their only son, after all.

A quick look around your room left you feeling empty. The last week has been so hard that it felt longer and now you’re struggling to find your normal pace again. In an effort to bring yourself to focus, you decided to pick up your phone once more and started flipping through your calendar to check your schedule. It didn’t take long for you to frown when you realized the upcoming dates there. You’ve plotted important academic schedules in advance and one quick look at it told you how much you’ve obviously missed in the past week. You’ve been so lost in the mess of everything that has happened that you’ve entirely forgotten about your job at the manor. You realized that they didn’t even call you once to ask about your absence, probably because they also know about the situation, but even that is not enough excuse for you to entirely fall off the radar.  

Biting your lip, you quickly scrolled through your contacts now to look for the number you need. Your thumb hovered over the call button momentarily, but you eventually pressed it anyway. Your eyes wandered towards the clock on the wall, hoping silently to yourself that it wasn’t too early for you to call.

“Rosewood Manor, how can I help you?”

You straightened on your seat.

“Hey, Taeyong. It’s me. Sorry if I called so early.”

The other boy seemed to have been taken slightly by surprise by the way he fell silent at the other end of the line. You tapped your finger against your knee, waiting for him to speak again.

“Hi. No, it’s fine. Work started for me about an hour ago. Are you okay? How’s things on your end?”

You nibbled guiltily on your lower lip and finally got off your bed to walk over to the window. You pushed the curtains open and stared at the slight snowfall that had started falling on the ground. You’ve missed so many days of reporting to them but the first thing he does is to check if you’re fine.

“I um—things are still the same. My boyfriend’s still at the hospital.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Look, I want to apologize. I haven’t really reported to work and I didn’t even call about it. It’s just that—things have been so crazy lately, but still that isn’t an excuse for me to just not show up.”

Taeyong, however, was understanding as always. You were about to go off for another round of apologies when he gently cut you off. 

“Hey, it’s fine. We know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately so we also weren't expecting anything. Don’t worry too much about it.”

“But, the boys’ examinations and portfolio review is happening in three days and I haven’t really checked in with them. How are they doing now?”

“Oh...that. Well, we actually tried looking for a temporary tutor to help out but I...uh… I think he isn't really cutting it. Maybe because he isn’t the one who started the program with them. But he’s a big help still.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry about that. I should have at least—look, I can drop by today and just try to fix things.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. Don’t you need to be at the hospital?”

You started going around your room now, trying to gather the scattered papers and files that you’ll need. It’s a good thing you woke up early so you still have time to prepare for work. “My boyfriend’s mother is the one watching over him today so I have the day off.”

“And your injury? How is it?”

Your eyes landed on the new bottles of medicine sitting on your bedside table.

“Better. I’m feeling so much better.”

You heard Taeyong sigh in relief over the phone. “Thank god. We were so worried about that. Well, you really don’t need to go, but if you have time, I guess doing it today won’t hurt. It will help us a lot.”

A small smile tugged at your lips now and you switched the phone over to your other ear as you started arranging your bag. “Thank you so much for being understanding. I need a distraction anyway. I’d rather work than stay home alone… Thanks for not firing me.”

That made him laugh a little. “I’ll tell the boys that you’re coming over. Oh, and be careful on your drive here. The roads are a little bit slippery today because of the snow.”

“I will, thank you. I’ll be there by 9.”

******* “Noona!”

You have barely finished arranging your materials on your desk when the door to the room burst open and ushered an anxious-looking Jisung inside. You looked up quickly at him, only barely catching Chenle wobbling with his crutch before your vision of the entrance was blocked by Jisung’s tall frame. His hair looked swept up as if he ran and there was a slight flush staining his cheeks. He stopped right in front of you, stopping just in time for him not to topple you over.

“Hey, Jisung how are—” You tried to give him a smile but he was quick enough to grab your hands between his.  

“Are you back? Are you really back for real?” He pressed now, eyes wide as he tried to bend over to look closely at you. He looked like a puppy, the only missing thing being a wagging tail to complete the look. You couldn’t help the brief laugh that passed over you as you tried to calm him down.

“I am. For the day, yes. Sorry I missed so many of your sessions.”

“We thought you left us,” Jisung continued, his lower lip protruding just a bit. Just then, Chenle had finally reached the two of you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. This is actually the first time you saw him again since the day the two of you had your accident and you’re glad to see him healthy despite his broken leg.

“Hi, Chenle. How are you?”

The boy scratched the back of his head and looked away slightly. “Fine… I’m sorry, noona. I wasn’t able to visit you when you stayed with us. I’m really really sorry about what happened in the forest.”

You tried to give him a reassuring smile and freed one of your hands from Jisung’s hold to ruffle his hair. The action seemed to have calmed him down a little because he finally looked at you again, a small apologetic smile on his own lips.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault. But be careful next time, okay?”

“Are you going to be our tutor again, noona?” Jisung pressed once more and you turned your attention back to him. To be honest, you’re still not sure how your schedule will turn out after this, but you couldn’t really bear to break the poor boy’s heart at the moment.

“Yes… I’m here to teach your big brothers today for their tests though. We’ll have to schedule you and Chenle’s lessons again. Is that alright?”

A brief look of disappointment flashed on his face but he was quick enough to pick it up. Jisung smiled and gave your hand a squeeze.

“Okay. We can wait. It’s good you are back, Jaemin-hyung was so—”

“Yah, don’t hog her by yourself. You’ll scare her away.”

A new voice made the three of you look back to the doorway. Haechan smiled at your little group as he strolled casually into the room followed by Jeno and Jaemin. The three of them joined your crowd and you felt Jisung finally let go of your hand as he stepped away to go over to his brothers’ side.

“Hi. Sorry, I only returned now. Taeyong told me that you—”

You weren’t able to finish what you wanted to say as Haechan gently stopped you mid-sentence. He leaned his head to the side, eyes briefly scanning you from head to toe. Unlike Jisung, he looked calm and only barely excited.

“It’s fine. We knew you’ll come back. How are you?”

“Oh… I’m good. My head is better. I haven’t had the chance to thank all of you for taking care of me when I was here.”

“How about your boyfriend?” It was Jeno who asked this time and you quickly turned to him to address his question. Your eyes briefly slipped to Jaemin who was standing behind him before you could even speak though, and for a moment you had the impression that Jeno was shielding him—or blocking him from you. You blinked a little bit in confusion, wondering if it was just your imagination that was making you think that way.

“He’s still… still unconscious,” your smile dropped a little but you tried your best to keep your voice casual. “We’re getting more tests for him. His doctor said that he isn’t showing bad signs at least.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about him,” Haechan said with compassion and you gave him a grateful look. Your gaze settled on Jaemin again, however, who for some reason had barely looked at you since he came into the room. You know that he can be quiet and reserved at times, but there is something in the air around him that makes you slightly worried. He’s so still, but the way he carries himself makes it seem like he’s so strung up at the same time. It also doesn’t help that Jeno seems to be almost pushing him back from view.

“Hi Jaemin… How are you?” You tried to gently ask him to make sure that he is okay. He didn’t look at you at first, but when he finally did, you felt yourself freeze a little. His eyes looked dark and almost emotionless when he met yours and there were shadows under them as if he hadn't slept properly for days. He didn’t even answer and just simply stared, his gaze blank and accusing at the same time.

Haechan casually glanced over his brother and chuckled. “Our Jaeminie here has been sick for the past couple of days so he’s a little out of it. But he’s going to be fine now,” he put a hand over the other’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze as if to calm him down. “Right, Jaemin? We’ll try our best to go to class today since noona is finally back, hmm?”

Jaemin, however, didn’t even seem to hear him. He continued staring at you the same way that kept you pinned on your spot.

“Are you leaving again?” he finally asked and you almost felt goosebumps rise on your skin. It didn’t sound like a question… but more of a threat. You swallowed.

“I’m going to have to arrange my schedule till things get better…” you answered carefully, as if you’re navigating dark waters. That didn’t seem to cut it for him, unfortunately.

“So you’re not leaving. Forever?”

You blinked. To be honest, you’ve been thinking of quitting and just finishing the rest of the month if things didn’t improve, but you don’t think that’s the right answer to give at the moment.

“No… not for now,” you finally managed to say. You watched as Jaemin seemed to visibly relax, his stiff shoulders loosening under Haechan’s grip. He didn’t say anything after that, but he at least looked away, seemingly more satisfied with your words.

“Great. I think we should get to work,” Haechan broke the silence and looked around the room as if the tension you were feeling was just something only you could feel. He nodded towards Chenle and Jisung then. “You guys go back to your own classes. You’ll have your share of noona once it’s your turn.” He then glanced at you, smile still in place. “Should we start then?”

You nodded. “Is Renjun still not back?”

“Not yet. He’s going to be here tomorrow though,” Jeno answered as he took his seat on one of the desks.

“I see…”

Haechan also found his spot, but not before you’ve noticed him urging Jaemin to do the same. Playfully, he took the pencil you’ve arranged on the desk and started tapping it against the wood of the table.

“Don’t worry. We’ll tell him you’re back. I’m sure he can’t wait to have his lessons again~”

******* You looked over the window for the third time in the last fifteen minutes and sighed. The day had been busy with you trying to catch up on the boys’ lessons that you barely even noticed the state of the weather outside. When you finally did, it took you by surprise when you saw how much of the ground was covered by snow—one look at it told you that it is at least a feet deep by now. Your first instinct was to try and maneuver your car out of the lot before your tires get entirely buried in it, but then you remembered that you promised to wait for Taeyong to come back before leaving the manor. The butler requested for you to temporarily watch over the manor while he tries to do some last minute errands back in the city, but it’s been two hours since he originally promised to come back. You eyes glanced at your watch now, then back at the quickly darkening view outside. 

“...severe snowstorm has blocked some of the main roads in the city at the moment. Expect heavy traffic and don’t forget to drive safely.”

You turned to the television now to catch the last of the rambling dialogue of the reporter about the weather. You’ve been debating on whether to call Taeyong or not to check on him, but you didn’t want to seem impatient to go home when you only really wanted to make sure if he’s safe. From the looks of it, he’s stuck somewhere because of the hale, too.

You were on your way to get your phone from your bag to at least try to shoot him a message when you suddenly heard it ring. Getting it just in time, you almost sighed in relief when you saw his number there. You quickly took it and went over to the window to answer it to make sure you get some proper signal.

“Hello? Taeyong?”

“Hey. Finally. I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour, thank god it finally connected.”

“Oh, sorry, my phone’s in my bag. I think the signal’s getting bad because of the snowstorm. Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, about that, I’m still stuck in town. The traffic’s so bad here because a section of the main road is blocked. Road maintenance is supposed to come thirty minutes ago but I think there’s a delay because there are other roads they are working on.”

Your gaze drifted back to the television where scenes of the same blocked avenues were being flashed. “Yeah… the news says the same.  Are you safe though?”

“I am. I’m really sorry for making you wait. I’d tell you to drive back and not wait for me anymore but I don’t think you’ll also make it home in time with all this traffic going on. I don’t think it’s going to be safe. Do you mind waiting for a little bit more? I’ll tell you once the roads are better.”

You thought it over quickly, a frown settling on your face. You really want to go home, but he’s right. There’s no point in trying to drive back if you’ll only find yourself stuck in the roads for hours. Not being a big fan of night driving yourself, you can already imagine the stress waiting for you if you add a snowstorm to the mix. As much as you wanted to leave, you’re left with no choice, at least for the moment.

 “I can… I’ll just wait for you, I guess. Do you want me to do anything here while you’re gone? Dinner for the boys?”

“Oh no, no, you don’t need to do that, that’s not part of your job,” Taeyong sounded abashed when he said that. You stepped away from the window then and took a seat by the fireplace that Jeno started earlier. Half of your concentration was on the news which has now shifted to a different set of reports also caused by the snowstorm. “They’ll know when to go down and eat. Don’t worry about them. Where are they right now?”

“Ah, I think they went back to their rooms? I did tell them earlier that I’ll try to wait for you.”

“I see. Yes, I think that’s better. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated. If things don’t get better, I think I’ll have no other choice but find a hostel here and wait for the weather to calm down. You can stay there and just ask for help from any of them. You can stay in the same room just in case.”

You didn’t quickly react to the offer. Instead, your eyes flickered to the doorway of the room before refocusing your attention back to the conversation. It’s not like you have anything against spending the night again at the manor—you’ve done it before, after all—but it’s honestly not really something you’re comfortable to do again. Maybe it’s because you’ve never really been okay with overstaying at strangers’ houses but your gut feel is also telling you right now that it shouldn’t be your top option regardless of the situation you are in.

Still, you didn’t want to come off rude to Taeyong, not when he is only being kind to offer you temporary shelter while being stuck in the middle of nowhere himself. So instead, you went against your initial doubts and offered him your thanks in return. It’s just Plan B that he’s proposing after all. 

“I will. Keep me updated though if you need anything you think I can help with.”

“Thank you and I will. I have to go now though. Please make yourself at home. I’ll try to call again after an hour.”

“Okay. Take care.”

You put your phone down now with a worried frown as you heard the line drop. You couldn’t believe this is happening the first day you got back to work but it’s not like you can really blame anyone for it. The only good thing is that you’re sure Jaehyun is being taken care of right now so that is at least one thing off your shoulders. You didn’t really need to rush anywhere, not especially to a vacant home. Leaning back against your seat, you tried your best to relax as your gaze travelled around the room once again. You deliberated on sending a text to your mother-in-law to tell her about your situation but decided against it, not wanting to worry her more. You sighed. For now, you guess you didn’t have any other choice but to wait.

You did try to distract yourself by watching the news for a few more minutes before finally giving up on it. With resignation, you picked yourself up from your seat again and turned the television off. For a moment you simply stood in the middle of the room, trying to figure out what to do with your time when your gaze settled on the door again. Everyone retreated to their own rooms after they finished with their lessons so it means the house is pretty much yours for exploring if you wanted to. You toyed with the idea for a little bit, before finally resigning yourself to it. It’s not like there really is anything else left for you to do, and Taeyong did say you can make yourself feel at home if you wanted to. With a sigh, you finally turned on your heels to leave the room and peered silently into the hallway. It was deserted as expected, but still your eyes travelled left and right to check if there’s anyone out and about at this hour. It was only after you made sure that you were alone when you finally allowed yourself to step into the corridor.

Of course, you have a plan. You’re pretty much sure that checking out the rooms on the first floor is acceptable since it’s where you’ve been rotating your classes so you’re going to stick to those areas. You remember finding a library there once and you focused on finding your way to it to maybe check out some of the books in the collection. 

It did take you about five minutes to finally find the place you were looking for. For some reason, the sections in the manor always confuse you no matter how many times you try to memorize each one, probably because of how big and similar-looking they are on the outside. You’ve already tried four doors when you were finally welcomed by the familiar-looking bookshelves at the fifth one. You sighed and gave one quick look around the room before slipping yourself inside after making sure that you’re alone.

There will probably never be a time when you won’t find yourself fascinated by anything in this grand home. If the architecture of the mansion is not enough to convince anyone how rich the family is, their book collection is enough to assure that at the very least. You’ve only ever taken a quick glimpse of it once during one of your lessons with the boys, but one look of the titles in their shelves is enough to make any literature major excited. You looked at the floor to ceiling collection now, your fingers gently running over the spines of the books you could reach with a small smile on your face.

You were about to check out the rest of the collection on the other side of the wall when something in the middle of the room caught your attention. You didn’t really catch it at first because of the shadows that concealed it when you first came in, but you could pretty much discern the outline of a blanket covered standee now from where you stood. You frowned. Taking careful steps, you closed the distance towards it to try and figure out what exactly it is that you’re seeing.

A closer look revealed it to be an easel covered with white cloth. You could see the outline of the canvas where the blanket falls over it while shadows of colors peeked out into the thin fabric from the surface it was covering. How odd… you knew that Renjun had a different art room for his paintings so to see this now here in the middle of the library seems uncanny.

You didn’t know how long you remained standing in front of it, too. You know you should have walked away—after all, the white cloth hiding it away from plain view means whatever is on that canvas is not meant for everyone’s eyes to see, but you simply couldn’t tear yourself away from it. It’s as if there was a silent force asking you to pull that cloth to reveal what’s underneath, the inclination so strong that you could almost hear its voice breathing down next to your ear, unrelenting until you do what it says.

The next thing you know, you had your hand attached to one end of the fabric. You stared at it now, wondering last minute if you should go ahead or not. You swallowed and glanced around one last time around the room. If you’re alone… it wouldn’t hurt if you could take a peek, right? Nobody will know. You just have to see, then cover it back again. Before you could even think about it too much, your arm was finally moving on its own as it gently tugged at the covering. You watched as it fell gently on the floor, like a bodiless ghost melting into the shadows on the ground.

Your eyes couldn’t make out what you were seeing at first. The dim lighting of the room wasn’t helping at all, but you were sure that it was a woman’s silhouette that was staring back at you from the canvas. Colors swirled around her, like some unknown mass trying to drag her back into unknown depths. Shapes and tones jumped from the picture, but her form stood out from the rest, gracefully twisted as if she was in the middle of trying to fight and succumb to it at the same time. You frowned. Taking a step closer towards it, you tried to study its details under what little illumination the lamps above afforded you.

That’s when it all happened simultaneously. Your heart stopped beating the same time your eyes widened as they finally focused on what’s in front of them. It’s as if the ground suddenly vanished from underneath your feet and you were falling, falling, deep into the abyss despite your body being frozen in fear and shock.

You know this painting. You’ve seen it before. It was the same one by Renjun, the one that you saw on your first day working in the manor.

But it was different now. Instead of the unfinished state that caught your attention before, everything about the picture now is in sharp focus. The lines on the woman’s nude body, the hands—which you thought were simply dark swirls dragging her back—and her face twisted beautifully in pleasure and madness stared back at you like a nightmare.

But it was not those which truly shook you to your core. It’s the realization that it was your own face in the portrait that was staring back at you, silently screaming for you to run away.

You stumbled back in shock. Your chest felt tight as you tried to grasp for air while your hands fumbled to find something to hold on to keep you from crashing on the ground. Before you could even take another step, however, something hard hit your back and you felt strong arms wrap around your waist like a vice. You have barely realized what was happening when you felt someone lean over your shoulder, lips pressing against the shell of your ear.

“Isn’t it beautiful? You’re the perfect muse, don’t you think?” Renjun asked softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

******* You didn’t know how long you stayed frozen in his embrace. For a brief moment you thought you were dreaming again until you felt his arms slowly tighten around your waist. As if a jolt of electricity shocked you, you immediately turned to push him away as you scrambled to put some distance between the two of you.

Renjun didn’t seem the least bothered when your eyes finally focused on him. He remained on his spot, his gaze on you unwavering. You, meanwhile, were shaking from head to toe, the vision of the painting still branded vividly in your head.

“Renjun—what’s this?” you managed to stutter as you pointed at the artwork in the middle of the room. You couldn’t even spare to look at it again while he merely gave it a casual glance.

“It’s you. I’ve been working on it for a long time. I was about to show it to you but it seems like you couldn’t wait for it yourself.”

You felt nauseous. A part of your rational mind was slowly losing it as you tried to process his answer. Something's not right. Something is so terribly wrong.

“Why—why did you do this?”

Renjun simply stared at you and leaned his head a little bit to the side as if he was only mildly curious of your reaction. Your stomach turned even before hearing his answer.

“You said it’s beautiful.”

“This is not right—!”

“I came home because they said you were leaving for good,” he continued speaking softly, effectively cutting you from what you were about to say. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and you took another step back as you watched him get close to his artwork. You watched in horror as his thin fingers lovingly ran over the corners of the canvas. “Jaemin almost lost it… It’s a good thing I got here on time.”

And just like that, everything seemed to have clicked into place. The glances, the touches, the words that seemed to have a different undercurrent under them… they weren’t just fragments of your imagination. Every little thing that has gnawed at you from the inside came into crystal clear focus and you felt your knees go weak from the weight of it all. It took every fiber of your being to try and keep yourself steady now, your legs moving on their own as they took small backward steps away from the boy staring at you now with dead eyes. You couldn’t breathe, but it was the last words he told you that finally snapped you to run.

“I don’t think you’ve realized it yet. But no, you cannot leave. Ever.”

You didn’t know where you got the energy for it but in seconds you were flying out of that room and running blindly down the darkened corridors. Your blood pumped noisily in your ears and your chest felt like it was going to split from the sudden exertion you put on it, but you didn’t stop, not even looking back as you tried to put as much distance between you and the library. You didn’t even know where you were going. All you’re focused on is to find the exit and leave the house as soon as possible.

A loud bang that sounded off to your right startled you and you screamed, the force of your shock making you whip around and almost lose your balance. Before you could even hit the floor, however, a pair of hands caught you and you immediately turned, grasping at the chest of your rescuer.

You froze. Haechan smiled down at you as he tried to steady you on your feet.

“Haechan,” you gasped as you took fistfuls of his shirt and tried to shake him in your panic. “Renjun—he’s—please, help me. He’s after me—” you gasped out, almost out of your wits. You’re on the verge of a total breakdown that it almost escaped you, the way he simply smiled down on your shaking form. It was only when you felt one of his hands gently caress the top of your head that reality slapped you in the face again. You suddenly stopped struggling in his hold, pupils shaking as you watched him study your features lovingly.

“Shh… it’s fine. I got you,” he whispered and you could swear ice pricked you from the inside. A slight movement to the right made you turn your head and you saw Jaemin lean casually against the banister of the stairs, his face serene. He gave you one quick look before a gentle smile finally lit up his features.

“Has it started?” he asked and you felt Haechan’s hold on you tighten.

“It has.”

You didn’t struggle. It was as if any trace of fight you had left you in that moment and you let your hands fall limply on your sides. Haechan also loosened his grip on you and you stared at the two boys blankly, your chest heaving as if fighting for air. They didn’t move from their spots and simply followed you with their eyes as if relishing the fear and realization flashing in your face.

Trapped.

You’re trapped.

You’ve always been.

You didn’t even realize that your legs had started moving again on their own as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall together in your mind. You were only shaken from it when your back finally hit the front door, the cold metal of the knob pressing against your spine. Jaemin and Haechan remained on their spots still, even as you blindly reached out for it from behind.

You were expecting it to be locked, so you were a little bit surprised when you felt it give way under your hand when you tried to turn it open. Just before you could even entertain the idea of escaping, however, any trace of hope you had quickly died as you turned and came face to face with Jeno standing right in front of the entrance. He didn’t look the least surprised seeing you there, as if he was waiting for you in the first place.

You eyes took in his calm countenance before slowly moving to stare downwards at what he was holding by his side. Your gaze locked on it in fear, and that’s when the flight response in you flared up again.

Jeno’s hunting rifle shone dully in the light of the entryway, his pale fingers wrapped on its handle.

“There’s really only one place you can run, noona, but I won’t advise it,” he said evenly and you felt your blood freeze in your veins.

“After all, no matter where you hide, I’ll still find you in that forest.”

It happened all at once. You broke into a run, your body screaming at you to go faster as you heard gunshots pierce the air.

---

CHAPTER 7

A/N: Good lord, I wasn’t expecting I’d finish this today but I got one large iced coffee and well... things happened. Anyway, enjoy! Let’s hope the format won’t mess up this time. T.T Finally, all hell broke loose~ <3

Tag list! 

@negincho, @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore​, @jsturkey, @aj-7, @pukupukupawpau, @tomiesgirlfren, @vsszn, @those-winternights, @xsnelly, @lihyuck, @laheyspizza, @miyeux27, @haoshitt, @mindofthescattered, @huangberryyy, @d1nne, @choppedupcactus, @neokat​, @yutasnabi​

[strawberry-nugget]

Stargazing [through the five stages of grief] | K. Bakugo

★Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki/ reader

☆Synopsis: after Izukus sudden death you and Bakugo find comfort in each other

★Warnings:18+, minors do not interact, sexual themes(SMUT), aged up characters, grieving and coping mechanisms, depression as part of a stage of grief, language

☆A/N: I wrote this for @starstruckkittensweets​ 's  Summer Romance Collab collab I also cried multiple times while writing this for so many reasons. Dedicated to my friend @aichiin in hopes this is any comforting to her <3

★Word Count: 10.6K

i. denial | 3.28 am Just when you think silence is going to engulf you in lethal restraints, he's got you. Held and embraced, away from all the evil in the world, pouring a fountain of tears in the burgundy of his tank top. The beauty of the seashore is unmatched at this time of the year -end of July- honey colored sand spreading to as far as your eye can see, lining the white foams of the water perfectly. It shines under the moonlight beautifully golden, as if Midas' touch has grazed each and every speck of sand; it's almost a pity to watch some weather away in the soft evening breeze. Not many stars are visible with how bright the moon is and you simply can't stop thinking about it, the numbness in your heart as you're trying to spot the only few constellations that you know, but even them seem unable to shine brighter than the light of the moon. But he- he shoots a hand to the sky with one eye closed as he mutters something under his breath. It makes your heart pause. You don't catch it though -whatever it is he said- ears deaf to the feeling of being pressed too tightly into his broad chest -to an asphyxiating point, even- but you catch your heart fluttering again for the first time in weeks. A good sign, you guess, the little excitement that you feel can overthrow the buzzing void in your heart, or your head. "That's the Hercules one right? You've been trying to find it for years huh?" You feel the humming in his own hollow chest more than you hear the soft muttering that leaves his lips. This heat he usually emits is probably gone by now, from how tight he's holding you and you're not entirely sure why he's putting on that show for you. The soft pretending of searching for the stars when he won't let your face turn to the direction of the sky, or why he just so effortlessly knows all the constellations you've been trying to find. Under any other case you'd call him a show off, a self contrasting asshole and his sloppy hold around your chin and neck proves that you've never been this close, as expected. He doesn't know what you like or how you'd rather be held, or even, how anyone would like to be held and you don't know anything about how to handle someone like him but social expectations don't matter when comfort is needed, or whatever Mina and Ochako said. The air smells like salt and seaweed, musty and a bit heavy, but refreshing at the same time. As refreshing as hot July air could ever be yet you still find the breeze chilly, so you coo into chest even more, throwing a leg over his thighs, and flexing your palm on his ribs. In response he soothes his hand down your shoulder, trying to create some much needed friction for you. "You can drop the act now" You mutter, rubbing your cheek comfortably onto the soft cotton of his tank top

"What act?" "Trying to comfort me, trying to use me to comfort yourself" There's hurt in the way you talk, and it jabs his heart peculiarly, making him push you off his chest just one but so he can meet your gaze. When he does, you realise you've never been met with such a serious look, and your mind vibrates in what your own confrontation towards him should be. "I mean, why be comforted? We're strong. We're heroes, we-" He shushes you, with a gaze and a snake-like lisp sound that rattles out of his teeth. "What's insufferable for me, I'm guessing, is even worse for you" He clears his throat just when his voice gets a bit raspy from laying on his back "and I'm a hero, it's what I should do. He would have wanted this as well you kno-" "He would have wanted you to be yourself not try to become him" You nuzzle your nose deeper into his chest, avoiding his eyes and the prying stars that decorate the sky above, feeling watched, betrayed by how they're able to shine so brightly despite the loss you're feeling. But then again, why wouldn't they shine? Isn't life just supposed to move on even after a loved one isn't with you anymore? Stars aren't supposed to go out, to become more or less as time goes by, they've seen distraction and glory and fall -it's only you who finds

it cruel that they can still shine in times like this. "He would have wanted me to be better. It pains me more than you to admit" Katsuki has never shown such an appreciating side of himself when it comes to your late friend. Or he has and you've just not been there to witness. Or, perhaps, you've chosen to turn a blind eye to anything that's ever brought them close because you weren't the most fond of him since childhood. Yet, a feeling inside your chest commands you to oppose him and his word. Even by the comfort of his own chest. There's no denying that you've wanted to hate the one who's nothing but comforting you, but you find yourself stuck between grief and a burning heart. It leaves you numb, maybe, to think that he so graciously holds you as if nothing else in the world matters. When this shouldn't be the case. "Why, why does this have to happen to us? We're supposed to save people, losing people is-" "The biggest part of the job" He finished your words for you, strobing that little rattle of reluctance he senses in your voice "We didn't-" "Sign up for this?" You nod at his inquiry "in a way I think we did. He always pushed himself and if you say you never saw it coming, you're lying" "I didn't" "There you go" "No, no" You shake your head "he was strong. This shouldn't have happened, it's unfair and it's-" "It fucking damn is unfair but there's no rematch for him. I wholeheartedly agree, it shouldn't have been like this. We shouldn't be here, days after his damn birthday, hollow and mourning. He should have been here, we should be celebrating" He's not going to call him an idiot. Not anymore. Not even because he's hurt you or anyone as a matter of fact, but because he's come to respect his dead, he's come to lose the attitude when it comes to seeking help, or giving it. It's something Izuku has taught him, a strong moral that no longer rests in the back of his head as a possible value to characterise a hero. It's rather a reality, such a strong wave of consciousness and coinsense that washes through his body all the time. You think, qualities of Izuku, wash through your soul in waves too. "But suggestion is oceans away from reality" Katsuki whispers and just then, the tender touch of his fingers lingers in between your locks. Only for a split second, and for the sole reason of flicking some hair on top of your ear, to shield it from the chill of the air. You're not certain if you act on your grief's accord or not when you grab onto his wrist to prolong the soft petting of his hand on your head. But he complies with you wordlessly, sighing out a heavy bubble of air off his lungs. "That's not the hercules one" You whisper "Huh?" "The constellation" It's oddly satisfying how you coo deeper into his chest, even if you can't see him pop one eye open to peak at the sky "that's Ursa Major" "Like fuck it is Ursa Major" "Katsuki, is this your first time stargazing?" You ask quietly and he wraps a hand around your waist to drag you a little closer towards his chin. When he does, he rests his chin onto your hairline. "I can't believe I opened a goddamn map for this and couldn't even distinguish the hercules one from the Big Dipper" You hammer out a little giggle. It sounds mechanical but still, he mimics you, and you can not only feel the vibrations in his chest, but the movements of his chin too, as he mellowy rubs his soft skin on your hair, soothing his lips on your head from time to time. The breaths he lets out of his nose are silent, yet you feel them calming you down, so warm and so calming against you. "The Hercules is a big constellation but it's not bright at all, you have to catch it on a moonless night and it's usually gone too early" Katsuki sighs. The process of taking in your words in analogy with late Izuku is too strong and it's too early for him to touch a subject that even so reminds him of the situation. It's more than enough that you two got to talk about it tonight, or rather, about your feelings, but at one point the line is drawn on what's harmful to his soul. A sole mention of the condition of a constellation should be making his stomach churn, and it definitely shouldn't make him hug you tighter into him. For one, the phenomenon of the constellation's nature has been around for longer than he has been who he is, and will still be when he's not. This small coincidence, even if it rubs salt to the wound, is not the fault of a small mass of stars gathered together to form something human eyes can recognize as a kneeling figure. Izuku's life is probably just a parallel to the greek myth of hercules, or so, he likes to glorify, but when it comes to him, there's noass of stars for anyone to remember him by.

Izuku falls and dies so long as the memories of his friends live, finding shelter behind a myth, a legend, a course change in the history of humankind that lead to this specific moment. Him, mourning with you, on the beach that Izuku cleaned years ago, feeling his heart ache in sync with yours. And maybe, maybe if- "If I close my eyes and fall asleep, will I wake up and realise that this is all a bad dream?" You ask as if you don't know what the answer is going to be and he tries to not indulge in feeding you a void of hopes just to make you feel a bit more sure of your future, or try to convince himself he'll have a good one too. He wants to reply positively, just as much as he wants to wake up too in a reality where Izuku is still alive, and he's got to say everything he's ever wanted. He knows, some nights he'll find himself thinking he would like to go back and change the course of his own history, whatsoever, to never hurt Izuku for naturally having qualities he had to work for, or change the fact that he's been harsh and cruel. The 'why us' inquiry that arises in his chest as he's stroking the slightly greasy hair on your scalp is what's left to bounce in his head for now, eating away every curly corner of his brain, turning any other thought into a wasteland, yet, still his answer to you is what he would rather not hear, bathed in a cruel nature he's tried so hard to lose from his persona. "I wish it were just one bad dream" There's so many questions in his head; are you asleep? Or will he hurt you by trying to force himself into accepting Izuku's death? Are you prone to being hurt and pricked by how raspy and serious his voice sounds? Because you don't make a noise, nor a sniffle, and your hand isn't tightening around the collar of his shirt anymore. He wishes too, it's all a bad dream. For the lover that you lost, and for the person he's known better than anyone, the person that knew him better than anyone. But it's not. And the mellow sound of waves crashing on the shore bears a tune to convince him to forget, but the water won't reflect the stars he can see with his bare eyes. Thus he's asleep before the lurking darkness in sound and sight gets him too. Just for a while, just until it's his own turn to face oblivion. A small part of his brain, though, convinces him he'd face any oblivion so long as he gets to fall asleep in your arms like that, over the soft, warm sand, on a chilly July night. 

ii. anger | 9.47 pm If you could only know the reason you're yelling, tears wouldn't be spilling from the corners of your eyes, down your cheeks just to drown on your overly stretched mouth, wetting the lips that are stinging in splits and bruises of dehydration. He's not one to back down while facing the disdain of his own feelings. When that disdain should be directed on how petty the cause for your irritation is, you're both focused on the snap of nerves inside each of your heads, chests heaving as you're staring at each other dead in the eye; you, from the cold seat of your couch, Katsuki, from the numbing howling that seeps through the cracks of your front door. The bags in his hands are heavy with groceries and the weight of this peculiar, unspoken agreement to settle together. It's hidden in the affection behind every piece of vegetable and fruit in the tote bags. Even if the night is young, he's got a look in his eyes that mutters how

willing he actually is to grab a pot and a spoon and cook for the two of you. But you know- he shouldn't put pressure on himself after a late patrol for a chore you were supposed to fulfill. If only he wasn't on your ass about ordering take out. "You can't fucking order again." He speaks, grunting more so than accentuating the words as he probably should. But he's irritated you, so much that you've spent the last ten minutes yelling at each other while standing frozen in your places. Probably, a neighbor has heard and your mere response to the alarming social anxiety that arises from that fact is apathy. You're already directing a big amount of angry spouting at the blond, there's no such room to experience other feelings right now. "Fucking hell, Katsuki just stop! I don't fucking care if you think ordering isn't fucking good. I can't cook right now. I won't cook" You say in a higher pitch "and you won't cook either" When he opens his mouth to speak, you roll your eyes, away from him -you just know what he's going to say- though you instantly regret it. The sight of him frozen, with bags in his hands before your door is upsetting, and begs to stir up your mind in horrid imaginations of him throwing a tantrum at you and leaving you, of him never opening up his door to you ever again. Maybe, just maybe you should have thought this through better before yelling at him. "Fuck you" He says through greeted teeth and scrunched up nose huffs "fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck" He's not a punching bag, he's the only person who's here for you and your heart won't forgive you if you lose him. Your head turns or snaps to his direction, eyes too gooey to meet his gaze properly, but you still do look at him so desperately, you're sure your heart makes a ripping sound at its very seams. And that firm dedication of his to closing himself off is evident again; in that wet anger in the corner of his eyes, seeping like magma just at the tips but never falling down on his cheeks. In his pursed lower lip -and oh, will it be so infuriating to think, you don't wanna fight, you just want him to press those lips against your forehead and forget those arguments that always arise? As he's headed for the kitchen, step after step and upper lip overlapping the bottom one to hide his irritation, his eyes are averted from you and you chase after him with counted movements; a little limp to your left leg by sitting on it for a long time bubbling up inside your bones. Unwillingly, non-eagerly. Regret and remorse for yourself are feelings that rush through you, making your tongue run faster than your mouth, making your head dizzy with guilt and drowning you of a trillion of things you want to say to him. "Katsuki" You plead with half a breath, eyebrows forming an impossible frown above your eyes "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have yelled, i-" "Fucking save it. Order if you want, I don't care" "Katsuki-" He huffs air too harshly out of his scrunched up nostrils again and shuts his eyes closed, hands resting over the groceries as he's leaning over the kitchen table. Not once in the minute he's taking from himself does he spare you a glance, but you can rather listen to him mutter a soft 'be patient' under his own breath. To himself, you realise, but your heart's too heavy as you anxiously suck your upper lip inside your mouth, wondering -will an apology fix this? It may irritate him even more, and taking the risk is probably not worthy of him getting riled up, but you go for it nonetheless, hidden away behind the stall that separates the kitchen from the living room. Your little hiding spot for the moment, a place where you can safely hide behind as you choke on your own spit, trembling at the thought of any possible outcome of your next choice of words. "I'm sorry, I'm just, I'm snappy lately" He won't respond and you notice how he's counting his breathing with eyes still shut, though, ever so slightly; that's your sign to step back, give him space and time as you make your first step to the living room. Though small glimmers of regret

springle inside your heart, landing in small needle-like jabs on every stretchy wall of the overly sensitive organ, your brain begs to be the voice of common sense, just to push you to just give him space. But what if he doesn't want space. What if he wants to be held? Like you do. What if he doesn't want to fight? "I'm sorry" You mutter under your breath, again Your step is almost crippled as you try to approach him, lost and scared at the sight of him still struggling to compose himself still. The guilt in your gut is immense and spreading like a wildfire on rotten land, but you feel like, perhaps, you -and him consequently- soothe down when your hand touches his shoulder, or, when your forehead rests easy on the crook of his neck, just after you out your weight on your toes, You can't help but repeat your previous statement. "I'm sorry, talk to me, tell me if you're good or not" He grunts, letting out a short breath in the form of a sigh. 'I'm not', you translate and your chest tightens Your right hand comes to curl around his chest over his shoulder, your left, mechanically even, cripples around his waist enough so you can press his back into your chest. "Fuck i-" You don't make a move to shush him "I feel so bad, I just. What would he have to say about me if I left his girlfriend on her own, to eat crap everyday. That's not healthy for you. I shouldn't be fucking yelling. I shouldn't-" He's so out of breath, that you consider punching some air into his lungs, with the softest CPR to have ever been performed, but the thought leaves your head immediately, your heart drowning your stomach in guilt at the imagery of your lips on his. The snap to reality after that little moment is so intense, you don't know how you handle yourself and your heart. "I shouldn't be yelling" In all your years, you've never heard him be so sincere while being so furious. When it's true that he's nothing of getting into drama or anything of sort, Katsuki is always too prideful to admit when he's made a mistake. You figure, it's unfair to still judge him as if he's his UA self, or his middle school self even. He's a different person now, having lived through so many events that could crush even the most strong willed person -and that's what he gets from admiring All Might, you think- and all he's ever done is try to be here for you. Understanding each other in such difficult times is mandatory and compromise is a foundation that you both need to work on. You find yourself opening your mouth and shutting it again for several seconds as you're trying to voice it. The dry, chapped feeling of your lips colliding makes you want to shut your eyes and wordlessly communicate your thoughts to him, but it's impossible. For your quirk isn't transmitting your thoughts to others, nor is it keeping track of one's thoughts. Everything you do to comfort him, has to be done by yourself, strictly. "Katsuki, I don't want you to-" You nuzzle your face into his back in hopes that perhaps, it muffles the intensity of your speech "I don't want you to overwork yourself for me. Izuku-" His name is whispered like words of sin or ruthless statements of atrocities, when it shouldn't "-wouldn't let me do that to you." He doesn't talk, or sigh, or even place his hand on yours and a whole minute passes like that. Or two, or three, or an eternity. The clock is ticking so loud that it's unbearable, his heartbeat muffling your ears while his scent is musking your nose. It's a funny thing, that perhaps, everything feels so warm, so comforting like this, you'd like to keep hugging him, if he allows you too. For as long as this minute's eternity can last. "Don't leave me cause I'm angry and snappy" It's so barely audible that you think he's only trying to calm himself down again, but it strikes you like a swift slash of a sword to your chest to realize the weight of his words. You thought you were the only one feeling this way. 'Don't leave me'. As if- as if it's an option that's hunting the depths of his chest, or perhaps as if your situation isn't a granted part in your lives for a little over a month. You're not one to inquire of a person in panic why they said what they said or if there's a cryptic meaning behind his very words. Because, frankly, there isn't. He's pretty clear, even while being tenderly desperate about it. And oh, you feel your heart pull and pinch at the thought of it.

"I'm not leaving" "Good" When he turns to face you, he's gripping onto your palms like it's painted out to be for dear life, a plea to not let him go as he turns his body around; you feel as if he needs you, as if, you're necessary to comfort him as well. You're too far gone in the joy that gathers in your stomach to hear him utter the words "I'm not leaving either" but you find some meaning of this statement in his embrace, when he shoves you into his chest. There's a little awkward cripple to your gaze that causes you to steal a stare outside the window or, perhaps, it's something bigger, or even the drive in your heart to hope for something more as an outcome for this. In the worst case scenario, you're pleading for forgiveness, if, by any chance, Izuku is still out there and can witness this little happening. That's when you find it, and truly, you have to catch a second glance at it to feel certain about what you just saw. Subtle little shimmers of stars, painting a large part of the sky, patiently awaiting to be noticed, in agony and tiredness that only a hero could recognize. And if you're a hero, you can feel it too, the kneeling of the legs, the flexing of the arms -it's all there- drawn by little stars of other galaxies in front of your very eyes, after searching for them for years. That's perhaps what people mean when they say, happiness is found in small things. Katsuki's arms around you, his faint breathing grazing the skin of your nape tenderly as he's calming himself down is more than enough, but the sky tonight has managed to make a compromise for the two of you, shining the diamond colors of the hercules constellation to the two of you. It's a blink and you'll miss it, no reason to break away from his arms, so you coo into his mellowy neck, speaking against his skin. "I found it, the hercules constellation" "What? Where" He's not shook at all as he speaks, and it doesn't surprise you either; there's this dazzling tranquility in the air, so much for getting you to calm down after such rage, but you'll take it over anything else, anytime. When Katsuki seems to detach his resting lips from the crook of your neck, he lays the side of his face on the very spot, inquiring again about the location of the constellation. You're more than happy to provide him with an answer. He drags you to the balcony with slow steps, a million steps away from the lights of your apartment as it seems before snapping his head towards the sky, squinting his eyes to comb through any star he could probably set his gaze on. You help him find it, not because it's before his very eyes, but because something inside you is flickering to rush you. Hurry it up. Look at the pretty stars and embrace him again, because it feels good, and you don't mind that you get mad at yourself for thinking this way. You don't even want to question your morals as thoughts of holding his hand pass through your head. Maybe a finger or two tangled in his like messy strands of hair, too hard to detangle- maybe that'd be comforting. Perfect even. Despite your best efforts to tickle his pointer finger with yours shyly, you come to realise he won't respond -you better behave, or, you should have know, but the insecurities that make you question everything are as evident as they'll ever be- you wonder if you've made him uncomfortable. But he's wrapping an arm around your shoulders, by grabbing that hand you're using to guide his gaze across the constellation and this time you can't help, but tangle all of your fingers through his, like a hair clam, fitting so perfectly, your heart cracks even more than last time. "I can pop some rice in the rice cooker and you can buy some Teriyaki" He sighs, though not once does he pry his eyes away from the stars

And that's where you feel a weight lifting off your shoulders, only to drop to your stomach; it's not a half hearted compromise, rather, it's sincere, something so eerie and far away from the usual 'take it or leave it' Katsuki Bakugo, but… you'll take it. With a broken smile and a coo into his shoulder. You turn to look at the stars as well, and Katsuki cracks a small smile now that you can't see it, because compromising actually feels good, relieving or whatever. He doesn't want to think about whether, in any sense, he's on your mind or not, he'd rather show you a piece of his own mind, a crack opening to see inside his heart -it's almost too painful that he has to be the one to calm things down. He's never been one to do so, but standing on his feet right now is mandatory. For you, him, whatever the two of you have got going on, because if not, coping won't be effective. He likes to think, you have each other in this, and that's enough for him. To keep things peaceful he has to take an occasional step back, and if that's the price to pay, he guesses he will. Izuku may be gone, he may have turned the two of you into what seems an unfixable broken mess, but at least he's left you with each other. Perhaps, he'll once appear again, in the form of new love, or a smile on your face at the sight of an old childhood photo, and things will be fine again. If only he could have been kinder, or better, or not as competitive, he wouldn't be sorry or trying to fix his own self. For now though rice and teriyaki ought to be the only problems he wants to face.

iii. bargaining | 7.30pm "What if I could have prevented this?" His voice is anything but loud, his chest too hollow, bouncing the voice of his concern around the broadness of his muscles, just to graze into your ears in soft vibrations. The statement alone makes you perk up and swoon your face away from him, hands laid flat and firm against his petrocals as you're finally fixing him with a gaze. Saturdays always bite his ass and Sundays are ever so depressing. This weekend is no less easy for the two of you. Katsuki's barely able to slur words without hissing or cursing, seeing as his jaw is bandaged up by being sliced by a villain at work today, and you've both decided that it's best if he gets to have an early night. "You'll be fine by next week, I'll help you change your bandages" He shakes his head before he buries his face behind his palms, as if trying to hide his emotions from you; you give him the right, with a worried face to match the situation "Not that, shit- no 'm taking 'bout Izuku" Oh You can't really place yourself into why but you've been having the same thoughts as of late. It's only natural, you dare say, to convince yourself not to be persistent on guilt tripping that little mellow voice in your head that tried to tell you that everything's going to be fine in the end, but it's in vain- for every time this happens you have to find a new way to occupy yourself to shove the destructive thoughts away. It's probably not right in any sense, to prompt Katsuki to ignore the problem as well, but the thudding of your heart -always matched perfectly by the raindrops that hit on the roof of the house hard enough to make you feel oh so concerned- commands you to find a new coping mechanism to add to your little pile. "I- I just-" A look in his eyes and you're lost in a trance of whether you're going to break his heart by momentarily avoiding talking. It is more than enough to convince you to voice something, anything, but every word that sparks at the back of your brain is washed by astounding waves of anxiety that have your tongue swim in the sea of your mouth. You don't come up with anything to say for as long as a moment lasts. "It's like- I should have been there! I turned down that fucking call because I was sure he could do this on his own" "Katsu" "He fucking- I fucking- I-" "Hey, stop it-" You plea "It doesn't make it any different, I know that but-" He snaps

quicker than you can imagine, prospering away from another call of his name that slips from your lips. Irises turn away from you in wrinkly eyes, furrowed brows and pursed lips. His heart is palpitating so fast, his eyes flicker in what you can read is pain, maybe, you could take some blame to yourself. Not that you have any right trace if thought to come up with comfort, or rather, not like you have it in you to let Katsuki assign this all on himself. "I could-" You start, yet your mouth is dry "I could have been there as well-" It's such an awkward miniscule moment that you share but it's enough to make your heart feel like it's breaking in regret. You're only left to wonder if your friends are feeling that way too, about Izuku's call for reinforcements that Katsuki turned down, that none of them tended to on time. "Don't put this on you" Your stomach, unable to cooperate with any plea of yours to not drown in anxiety, stirs its contents to it's desire, making you sit up; Katsuki's embrace is too void for you right now, your chest is way too hollow for you to not feel alienated. It's in moments like these that you know trying to handle yourself or your life with each other is probably a mistake, a false emotional dependency that should not exist otherwise, and you always hope he gets to prove those intrusive thoughts of yours otherwise. You're taken aback when warm hands find their way around you; it's unexpected and you flinch, but you're soothed the moment your brain processes who it is that's hugging you, bringing you back to reality and breaking your short lived dissociation. He presses his ear onto the crook of your neck, this time, not hissing at the way his wounds ache as his skin tubs on yours. He notices that certain way your breathing's working and he sighs in relief, or sorrow, for he's too scared to ever speak of what's hiding in his chest, or what's adding to him feeling so twisted and evil. "Wanna go for a ride?" He says, unexpectedly, surprising even himself by how absurd it sounds "Where to?" "Niko" He purrs and you let out a giggle "That's too far silly" "I 'on know, heard it's pretty this time of the year" You finally turn around to him, only slightly so as to not disturb his embrace and ruffle a hand through his hair, and pause just before your lips find his forehead. Somewhere deep inside of you it hurts for this to feel so casual, a loving interaction with Katsuki of all people. It feels like some sick trick of betrayal but your eyes are burning onto his skin while your world moves in slow motion. A hand on his cheek isn't as harmful as the addition of another one, yet you still go for that choice, dry lips inevitably set onto pale pink skin, pressing a soft kiss of comfort. "We could go at that spot, near UA, we used to go there a lot when we were high schoolers" Katsuki's words are calm and collected, hidden between gritted teeth so he can appear like his chest is fuller than yours, but what you don't know is that his heart is trying to beat out of his chest, like it's the most secretive, harsh prison. He briefly wonders if by knowing so, you'll hurt as much as him. But your kiss on his forehead, the warm place in which he rests face against your chest it all points to you feeling the same- it's there and he can read every single sign, whether he wants to deny them or not. "Should I get dressed?" A grunt this prolonged means yes. And truth be told the set and scenery of this small driving outlet is almost idyllic; a silent car ride, tainted faces and the gloomy watery corners of one's eyes to match the pouring rain, the slow, mellow music matching in beats with the squeaky wipers. What a perfect, diligent harmony you've got. It feels like a cut to another scene in a slow paced movie. The time is still stuck at 8.15, signifying how it wasn't long ago that you were starting to drown in a pool of bargaining -and voicing it out loud- and a part of you is still sad for thinking that maybe, for Katsuki, you're a coping mechanism. A full rembrandt of what's left of

Izuku's that he doesn't want to give up. You keep wondering if that would be the case had he still been alive. Would he ever have such an attitude stored inside of him for you had you not been dating Izuku on what now counts as ancient history? He parks his car on a narrow little road that splits the woods in half and turns the engine off. Seeing that it's November already, you think about how this is a bad idea, you know how cold he gets, and he's not wearing any jacket but you keep it to yourself. Perhaps, had Izuku been here, he would have brought an extra jacket too. For now, it's foggy windows and died down warm breaths. Thus, with a quivering lip you settle lower into your seat and sigh. "I- I know you like stargazing" He coughs, vermillion eyes pacing back and forth between you and the rain that's clashing on the car's glass "and I got an app and a window on the roof of my car" "But it's raining" "Who caaaares!" He grunts when you pout and turns away from you, something that makes your stomach coil abrasively. You want him to look at you, you want him to- As ridiculous and bitter as it sounds, you're tired of asking yourself if any of this would be happening were Izuku still here. Because he's got a stupid little fucking app on his phone for you. Because you're dying to press your lips onto his skin again. Half an hour ago feels like an eternity has passed already. He cares about you enough to open the app -and switch the location of his phone on- and that's more than enough actually. You glue your eyes to the bright screen and follow it as it pops us with a dark window, asking for confirmation that it's authorized to use the camera of Katsuki's phone. A part of you sinks in the silent death of love at the thought that, yes, he downloaded this just for you. Joy in little things, you figure, is what keeps you grounded, it's what ultimately pushes you to rest your head on his shoulder as he lifts his phone up, facing it on the small opening on the roof of his car. "Can't see past all this water, dammit" "So?" You coo, and the previous small irritation in his voice dies down with a grunt that comes from the depths of his chest. "The app's fine. Feels just like stargazing." You've never done anything similar with Izuku. And there's not even a spec of comparison clouding over your head, despite the guilt that settles in your stomach once again. Looking up to Katsuki, you can see his jaw tensing in the slightest, most probably in pain -you wonder, does his wound still ooze- and you can't help but feel like your eyes are stinging. You sniffle nonetheless. And Katsuki retreats his shoulder, letting your head hang without support as he turns to you. "Maybe, even if we can't see them, they're still there and-" You purse your lips to the side of your cheek, thinking of a reply, anything to say to make his words seem like they've come out of his mouth. "You've turned into quite the poet lately, haven't you?" Your answer should be that no, he hasn't, he's just hurt and confused, numb and afraid, but in turn you're all those things as well, or so he speculates by looking in your eyes. Because he can read people, he can read you, and as much as this has been established, he can't find it in him to speak a word on it. Then again, what's the point in holding anything in if you're going to die one day? The life of a hero is expendable, he's got his rise and fall as number one set in stone, so why should he hold back? He can't bring Izuku back even if he wants to, and he can't possibly stop himself from feeling for you. He remembers finding salvation in holding Izuku down and apologizing. He now finds humility in words that are spoken from his mouth that slip past his consciousness. "I love you- Don't care if it's fucking raining or not- Fuck" There's no time for you to think of a response before he throws a fit; his phone is slammed on the backseat, rocketing to the floor, and the click of his door is heard before he steps out of the car and slams it shut. He's lucky- the rain covers most

of the scream that he let's out and fills the buzzing void in your chest, your head. He said the words first, and your head is pulling you instinctively to your right, just where he was a few moments ago, you want to see if he's facing you, you long to feel your eyes meet his. You manage to collect the only ever courage you have left and push the thought of Izuku away from your mind, click your door open and shoot out of the car. Just like him. Like you're his echo. "Don't say a fucking word" He dismisses your open mouth, as if he can hear your breath clearer than this deafening rain, but you're not having it. "But i- i" "Shut up, as if you know-" "But I feel the same way" You whisper "What" He yells, and you scream at him to get back in the car, so you can talk, clearer. Though when he does, he's burning his eyes on your lips, then your eyes, then he never makes any move towards you, as if everyone and anything is on you. But none of you takes the bigger leap towards each -justified, because there's trembling in your movements and hesitation in your heads. And then your lips meet his. Tenderly, painfully, religiously Your first kiss is cursed by numbing ache, but it feels so right, like the warmest summer evening, or the most hazing bonfire during a cold winter night. Regret can't eat you alive for that one. And Katsuki, even with his lips still pressed against yours knows he will think about this kiss as a sin and a betrayal for far too long, he knows it'll torment him through the darkness of whatever tonight could mean. If only he gets through this night, he'll be fine Tomorrow you'll wake him up with a soft "how'd you sleep'' again and he'll be fine. The void and guilt inside his chest will get filled up with the warmness of being embraced first thing in the morning. Perhaps in time he'll convince himself that Izuku would never mind what's going on between the two of you, if you're meant to be endgame.

iv. depression | 12.07 am

Soft bubbles that smell like carnation and the auburn flicker of the fire that shines on top of a plethora of candles set the atmosphere for this evening. The lack of bright light -being that the whole city has been in a black out for several hours- is gentle to yours and Katsuki's eyes. What should have been matched with some of the artificial warmth the heater next to the bathtub, that should be providing for the two of you. Instead, it's him that keeps the temperature high.

Your muscles hurt and his wounds ache, as always, after a tiring day of hero work. You guess that's your daily nature; after hours and hours of overworking your body and soul, two people like you only get to spend the little time they have together like this. Late at night, curled up against each other, borderline sleeping in a bathtub. You're sure the water has a pinkish red tint to it -somewhere, a wound of his or yours is bleeding more that you'd like to believe is natural.

Katsuki is unbothered to check who's wounds are worse.

For the first time in a while, his mouth isn't dry, or chapped, a killer to his heart, for he can't find the right choice of words to spell to you. He should be fine with having you curled up against his chest, but somewhere along the way he finds it hard to experience the warmth he's trying to emit. And he thinks he finds your response to this unspoken mind trick when he cups your hands with his, checking at your fingers. Not a single prune or puckered line to clasp a non indifferent reaction from the back of his brain.

He's content with the way time seems to have stopped, trapping you in a moment filled with cold granite tiles and blood spoiled water that smells like lavender. In a movement he abandons your hands, watching them float over his. You hum -it's warm and welcoming, as if you're saying you're content too- and rest the back of your head to the crook of his neck.

His only reply is to nuzzle his nose into your neck as well. Placing a tiny kiss to the skin against his lips, tangling his fingers through your wet hair.

Small reassuring acts of

love with nothing special into them help you relax completely into him. "Kinda nice that you can see the stars so bright tonight" If you're looking for a cynical answer, then Katsuki's ever your man. "Of course they'd show when it's pitch black outside. What'd ya expect?" With your eyes glued to the glass ceiling for a long while you wonder, what did you expect really? Words that spiral in your brain are always spoken, leaving you numb and inquiring, searching for an answer in the deepest curves of your brain. When burning your eyes into his will never work, he decides to let his gaze melt holes in the vast of his bathroom windows. The beauty of minimalism leaves him cold and lonely, as if there's facelessness in the black veil of the sky that mimics the inside of his home. He curls into you by pressing you against his chest tighter. You never ask him why his bathroom is built the way it is -with that little corner window in the ceiling, neither does he know what he'd answer to you were you ever in a position to. He doesn't know how to apologize for being who he is, or his that window makes him feel like he used to be assured and secured on what was assigned to him by birth. (His parents’ money, a strong quirk.) He doesn't know how to apologize for still living in traits of his life that could make you feel like he's been everything but fair to Izuku. And all you probably think about, he convinces himself is that It'd be ironic to say that you mind having a view of the stars while having a midnight bath. It's a full moon tonight too -the glowing sky orb floating just above the furthest line of the horizon, illuminating the sky. And you, with your eyes shut by now and facing the glass ceiling, seem like you feel the weight of the moon pulling you in. What Katsuki knows for sure is that you have a terrible migraine that has you frowning horrendously. It's because of the fool moon, you'll say when the blond asks you why you're suffering, it always gives you migraines and he'll sit by you as you're making him his bath, holding your hand while he asks you to join him. He's nothing but a lover of roughness and void, he doesn't know how you're still with him, or how you ever fell for him. He feels slow, like a worn out tire, washed to a shore by the sea. But his hands, calloused and sculpted harshly even only by the -not so many- years of being a pro, aid to your comfort, not in his need to be a hero -more like, in his need to be human, or not feel inadequate, to not feel like his life is a pit of guilt because Izukus is over. And it has been for a long time. And his, is taking turns so abruptly that his gut churns and pleads. Two bulky thumbs run over your eyebrows, smoothing the short coarse hair and soothing the bone, swooning the sore pain away; it feels like custom made heaven, sweet and fluffy, and the water in the bathtub won't get cold, nor will his hands. You're so relaxed into him, bones turned into jelly and skin tingling at his touch. Every circle he's rubbing on your forehead is releasing tension you didn't know you had piled up. The soft splashes of water are merely inaudible when compared to his heartbeat, but you can't feel it. Not yet. It's not tense enough for him to feel like his heart is beating out of his chest. "You any better?" Cold. Brutal. Almost as if his hands belong to someone else, but that's Katsuki for you, or anyone else as a matter. You turn your head to him, wearing a tiny, worn out smile as you lean you mean into him, clashing your lips over his, bumping your nose to his cupid's bow when you're done. Katsuki, you're sure, closes his eyes in a feeling that doesn't seem pleasant and you do the most expected thing -retreat. It hurts; watching you slip away, turn your head to face the stars outside of his window, wiggle your body away from his, to collect your knees and press them against your chest. It's devastating how a small denial to a kiss can harm you in such a way. It's either his fault, or yours. Because somewhere deep inside his head he's convinced

himself he's a rebound. Someone you'll get over when you start getting better. And he's probably convinced himselfhes viewing you in this way, somehow. "You could have at least kissed me back" You whisper, shivering. The water is cold, finally, it was so nice while the warmth washed over your skin. Almost like a lie. "I-" He huffs, buries his head into his wet palms. He can't speak, for if he does, the crack in his voice, the high pitch of it, will snitch on his torment. He tries to shove it away, when he shoots his hands to your direction, trying to pull you into him again. When it doesn't work, you swear you see the corners of his eyes sparkle just a tad. It's alienating, when you've seen him cry and have numerous break downs, more times than you've seen him smile or laugh, you feel like you're foreign to the slight emotion that gathers in his eyes, now forming a pit, never spilling down the harsh lines of his cheeks. The moment a salty streak appears on his skin, you can help but wonder, what would happen if only you could stop your own tears from falling. You can't ask him to talk to you, it's more than obvious. You're deprived of any logical sentence forming mechanism in your brain, knees like jelly, arms heavy as two whole buildings in the verge of collapsing. One word of his and your heart will unleash all the ache that gathers slowly in your throat. "'M not just here cause Izuku died" There you go, not once, but seven times, feeling your heart pierce holes in your body, hanging from his every word, cursing yourself when you grasp his meaning. Wild and unleashed and raw, a plea, an inquiry. A way of masking his insecurity and it's your fault he's feeling this way. "You're not," You start, lost and perplexed "I love y-" But it does down faster than you would have wanted it. You turn your head away from him for a second. With the moon so high, and the city lights non existent, you can distinguish the Taurus constellation, just below the moon, and so very faint. Your throat is tight, your neck is sore, your voice won't come out -you wonder why astrology is right about Taurus controlling the throat- and you don't know how to make him feel good about himself. If only you can show him the constellation he'll be fine, right? Do zodiac constellations make him as excited as they make you? Or is that just a role he's taken upon himself to stick with you? His lips clash with yours, water splashing around you as he shifts, and he hugs you close to him. It's your cue, to close your eyes and move your lips in sync. Its a sullen form of desire, that dangerous one, where you get his lips to bleed from how hard you bite down onto his lip and twist and pull and clash him into you again because you can't get enough. You tell yourselves you have to live for this present, even if the past makes it unbearable. Just when your hearts feel like they'll jump out of your chests and dissolve into the lavender smelling bubbles, this time painting the water in a deep carmine, you clash your chest to his and he feels as if, he's wanted, here and now, even if the feeling won't last for long. And then it's hands that roam bruised skin, fingers than dig into softness or thick muscle, fingernails that dig into scalps painfully, until they draw blood as your teeth clash. It's passion, and only in the way your hips ghost over his, swaying in the water, as he's grunting "see, am kissing you back" and "We'll never be clean at this rate" "I'll massage your head when we're done" You breathe, pulling back for a second, as he sucks a spot on your neck, handling your back just to press your chest to his face. "Fuck, I love yo-" You shush him with your mouth on his, forehead sticking to his when a slit on your nose gets smashed when it scrunches against his cheek. He doesn't have to say it, you don't have to hurt him like this. It almost doesn't matter -the cold- when he pulls you to the edge of the bathtub and buries himself into you, you simply shiver by the way his thumb rubs your clit, thrusting your hips in rhythm to

meet his. And he bites on to your collar bones, eyes teary and heart heavy after he lets you set the pace, occasionally thrashing into your touch, his gut churning more and more as you go. It's only when he takes matters into his own hands -lifting you and pressing your back again the wall, putting out some candles I'm the process- hand on your face to shove some hair away, and legs wrapped securely around him that you both find release. Screaming in agony, crying in what could be mistaken for pain, sticking your foreheads together as your breaths tingle into one hot huff of air that travels up and way from you. You lock eyes with him, just before he lets his body collapse into the water, limbs numb and sore. "Please don't leave too." You whisper, sinking down just behind him, fetching for the shampoo bottle from behind you. He doesn't respond. Instead, he mimics you and rests his head on the crook of your neck, eyeing you backwards, pressing his lips into an upwards line. You're not sure you'll be able to get over this void soon, and you can't help but plead. Later, as you're washing through his hair, you show him the Taurus constellation and his eyes beam like a child's when he says "hey I'm a Taurus" all while tending trying to tend for the bite that he left on your shoulder. He doesn't ask to find the cancer constellation. You don't remember where to find it. The moon is too bright for you to even try.

v. acceptance | 6.59 am

The last rembrand of a star shines in a portrait of purples and oranges. The beautiful afterglow of the previous night, the first ray of sun washes its shine away, almost entirely, before a second can come. To paint the sky in blues, sprinkle the marine shade as to spoil the darkness' leftovers.

The night star, or morning star, tolerates a third, then forth ray of sunlight, and your watery eyes flicker at the scene, your head curling deeper into Katsuki's chest, humming as his hand wraps tighter around you, rubbing frantically over your skin to create some friction. It's only then that you're reminded how beautiful warmth is.

Your ear is cold -after Katsuki's doing while playing with the roots of your hair- and you tuck it under a few strands, instantly noticing the difference in temperature. Katsuki is cold as well, shivering slightly even with the blanket that's wrapped around the two of you. You can't help but wish that you were in bed, curled in a blanket cocoon, sleeping in the most sappy, eerie way.

But spending the night at the beach in early September night's has been a favorite activity of yours for the past few years. Long gone are the July nights spent in agony at the beach in Musutafu, nights that have allowed you to know Katsuki like the back of your hand. You can't take them back, replace them with memories of a happier process of getting to know him. You're not sure he wants to do that too.

He yawns slightly, squishing your head under his elbow to rub his tired eyes, breaking the loudsy inhale to chuckle at your pretend squirming. Avoiding your hair as to not hurt you while scratching the stubble hair on his cheeks -flinching slightly at it- before he moves your hair away from your ear, laughing trumphically at his doing.

"Nooo, I'm cold"

He chuckles again, running the tips of his fingers through your hair and tapping his palm over your ear. "Better now?"

"Katsu!"

You smile into his chest, trying to muffle your giggles, deciding to cook into him further.

His heart might as well burst. He thinks to himself that this is more than something he could have asked for, years of putting the effort in being with you awarding him in moments like this. Moments where he can see Venus shine faintly in the sky, feeling blessed by the planet of love as he places kisses to the top of your head.

I'm times like these, it's hard to look back and remember he used to beat himself over trying to convince himself he was drawn to you only because Izuku died. It feels like there's more behind it. Some karmic pull, some aligned stars, fates arranged in such a way that

you were meant to end up in this moment. Even if none of this is true and he's lost in superstitial bullshit, trying to explain things with something that bears no resemblance to simple logic, he figures there aren't any fresh wounds in his body. Time has flown since the last time he caught himself bathing in his own blood, but he's not reckless any more -neither are you- he doesn't go tormenting himself with wounds that will take long to heal. He can't remember times that have been tougher than this. But he's attached to the warm sand, moist still from the night's angry chill, so much that he slips one hand out of the blanket and sinks it low into the ground. It's so pleasant that he doesn't feel the ground pulling him in, or down. He's got a heart that will withstand his will to get up any time he wants to, and a pair of legs that will at his command, a chest that heaves with breaths while you're showering him with kisses. He won't get to spend an eternity like this, not even as many years as he thinks will be enough for him to enjoy this, but he's figured that there's eternity hinged in every moment, of taking care of yourself before you take care of someone else, so you don't hurt others around you. He's surprised with how much he's changed; he is aware that change is inevitable, through all the compromises that he's had to not condemn, all the soft words he's forced himself to say to you, to himself, to the point he's become softer, mellowed. Knowing he'd never forgive himself if he came to lose you to his grief. "We should get up, I'm sure Mina and Ochaco will be freaking at this point." He chuckles, hiding his tongue in the back of his mouth, as if to fish for a reply. "Kirishima and Denki will-" "Let the fuckers do as they wish, it's my wedding day, I decide when I show up. I can't with this enthusiasm" "Oh my god" You fake gasp, clapping your mouth "this is it? You're not going to marry me? You've lost your spark? Oh me. Oh my, whatever do I do?" You laugh, feeling the vibrations of his chest as he's laughing too, ruffling your hair in the messiest way he can imagine "There, now your hair is unfixable and I get to say it's you who left me at the altar" You burst out in giggles as you're trying to get up -efforts wasted in vain, because he's pulling you back onto him, for a kiss, one that makes your lips feel like cotton candy that slowly melts away, fuzzily yet so watery and with such delicacy. He gets up soon after you, folding the blanket neatly -too neatly- only pausing to take in the moment. Blue blotch after blue blotch is flooding the sky, almost every hint of purple gone, giving in to that warm tangerine light of the early sun. Katsuki sighs and you link your arms around his elbow. Content, happy. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't much of those himself. There's nothing holding him back. And so, he guesses, this is goodbye. The official one. Not melded with an apology, not fueled by regret. It's a silky woven letting go. There are no tears left for him to shed, there's no more trembling to violently shake your body awake at night. There's nothing but good in the memory of Izuku. Not even the subtle wish for him to be here, and happy with you. As the bright, starry light of Venus is outshone by the sun, he places another kid to the top of your head. "I'll see you at 5" "I'm going to be fashionably late" You argue, turning around to wield your hands around his neck and almost linking your lips to his. "Don't you fucking dare" He kisses you "Or what? You'll blow everyone to pieces?" He kisses you again, then again, then once more. "Might as well" And that's Katsuki for you, even in the calmer, softer version of himself. The personification of the twilight hours, even if he's going to bed at 10pm, wiggling his feet under the covers until you join him. He's the only reason you're still sane and you won't ever lose him. He won't lose you, in return.

[k-indie]

Big Bet

IF YOU READ THIS, YOU ARE CONSENTING TO THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS I HAVE FOR THIS POST AND OTHERS LIKE IT AND ARE 18+ AND ARE MATURE FOR THIS TYPE OF CONTENT. REFRAIN FROM PROCEEDING IF YOU AREN'T AGED UP. OTHERWISE, please enjoy~

Pairings; {Hint of} Virginkiller! Rindō Haitani x Virgin!Reader

Synopsis; (since I can't find what I wanted, here I am writing it) Rin finds out you're untouched, lucky for him...

Tags: smut (yes, I'm detailing it this time), cursing, minor noncon bc you low-key love it, manhandling, edging, choking

"Damn it... I lost."

You grunted while crossing your arms, face contorting into a mildly angered pout. Your best friend was smirking, holding her hand out to you when you collected yourself and pulled out a wad of notes, begrudgingly shoving it into her hand.

"Told you it'd happen. Can't be mad, love. You'll catch up soon."

You mocked her under your breath and stuck your tongue out at her briefly before turning away from her and walking out of the cafeteria. "Where are you going, (Name)?"

She caught up with you quickly, slinging her bag over her shoulder and grabbing yours to stop you. "To sulk in my next class."

An obnoxious laugh departed her lips, bringing some attention to your pair before making you groan in annoyance and walk away again. "Oh, don't be like that. You want to swipe your v-card that bad?"

Prying ears and eyes remained on the two of you, not even a quarter of the way to the exit of the cafe when your friend stopped you again. "I don't care about that. It sucks for me because you lost your virginity before me AND you have my money. Keywords, 'you have my money'."

It really didn't bother you that you lost a bet to your best friend; one that said you had to give her 75 bucks if she lost her virginity before you and visa versa. It bothered you that you had to be the one paying up, missing out on 75 dollars that could have gone to food or otherwise.

She giggled at your expression and slung an arm around your shoulders and walked with you to your next class, "Sorry, kid. I'm a woman now. I need all the money I can get."

"Ugh, don't say that."

Your friend laughed again, less obnoxious this time while those prying eyes from before watched you walk away, smirking to himself when his friend roughly shook his shoulder, earning a half-hearted grunt—mind too stuck on what he just heard about you; his crush ever since middle school.

Still untouched... All for me...

Your friend knew the Haitani brothers very well—too well. She hung out with them constantly, never letting up on the parties with them or goofing off in class when you weren't in the mood to, usually because her friend was always staring at you or trying to flirt on the low.

He was very handsome and everything, the mullet framing his face perfectly and those plump lips just daring you to suck them, but he hadn't been the kindest to you in middle school and occasionally in high school. He didn't know how to use his words to tell you he liked you, so it came out in a series of testing your patience and treating you like you were 'one of the boys.' For some time, you thought he hated you or at least didn't see you as a woman.

But he changed drastically in college when he started showing you the attention he was supposed to start with in middle school, the way he'd ask if you were okay if he ever got to see you in between classes when you'd squint to fight off the burning in your eyes at having pulled an all nighter and barely getting sleep, when he'd offer help in the couple of classes you shared for his sake; he just wanted to be closer to you than he was.

Your friend knew Rindō had a crush on you, naïvety befalling your opinion of him, assuming he was just being nice. You didn't care entirely if he did or didn't like you, you just wanted to pass your classes.

She had been beyond ecstatic to find out that the two of you had been paired up for a project one day. It didn't dawn on you the plan Rindō had for the two of you the moment you started collaborating on it, nor his eyes swirling with lust and mischief when he looked at your smiling face, so innocent and so sweet.

So naïve.

He invited you back to his apartment, choosing a day that he knew Ran wouldn't be home so he could spend much needed alone time with you under the façade that he just needed open space to keep his mind fresh for the project.

You weren't too fond of being alone in a room with him, but it was a major portion of your grade so you sucked it up and went to his apartment. He had even picked you up, which was also how you landed in the living room at the coffee table, laptop open and focused eyes skimming the article for clues or ideas for the project's angle in.

"You find anything good?"

Rindō looked up at you, half-lidded eyes boring into your lively ones and you shook your head negatively. "Nothing worthwhile for now. I think we should go with the Hitler route and just remake the-"

"I think you should take a break for a while. I wanted to show you something."

You eyed his muscular form, his white tee sucking his chest perfectly while the sleeves rolled up over his shoulders, showing off his tattoos and making your mouth water slightly. He didn't miss the staring, in fact, he wore that shirt because he knew you'd stare at his fit physique like that at some point, craving filling your eyes as you shook your head at the thoughts of him, getting up and following him to his bedroom. "What's in here?"

You slowed your gait behind him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt when he turned around to place a lanky arm over your shoulder and usher you into his bedroom. You couldn't help the gasp that fell from your lips when you eyed the medium-sized, glass globe on his desk, drawing you closer to it as you looked to him, leaning against his bedroom door, for approval of your next actions. "Go ahead."

Your fingers smoothed over the surface, cool glass kissing your skin as you spun the orb on its axis, too enamored by the piece to realize the door had been closed and locked and the slowly approaching male coming up behind you.

When you felt warm breath on your neck, you turned around quickly and looked up at the young man, wondering why he was so close and still approaching you, hips pressed against each other while his hands found purchase against his desk on either side of you. "Uhm... What's up, Rindō?"

He bit his lip at the sound of your softened voice saying his name, eyes darting from your lips back to your eyes. "I thought you might like the globe. Maybe I'll let you take it home with you. I want you... To take it."

His lips were dangerously close to yours now, eyes boring into yours still as he kept his cool as much as possible in lieu of stripping you down right there and taking you like an animal in heat.

"Oh, that's really not necessary..."

He smirked at your response, knowing you were purposely ignoring the double entendre there. His lips brushed yours, your head turned to the side, a way of trying to create some distance between your faces. Wrong move...

His teeth bit at the skin of your neck, leaving light bite marks on it, hands finding their places with one at your hip and the other caressing your cheek, just enough force to keep you still and enough to feel you perfectly smug against his touch. Your light mewls only egged him on, hips rolling into yours as he began to suck on your neck, hickies flowering over the left side. "Rindō, I don't think-"

"Don't think what? That we should do this? I should stop?"

His breath tanned against your cheek, caressing your temple with his nose as he eyed your tightly shut eyes and swollen lip from how hard you bit it. "I've been wanting to do this since middle school. I've wanted you for so long—twelve years, pretty. I finally have you in my reach and you want to take that from me already?"

You slowly opened your eyes when you felt his fingers grip your jaw, forcing your face to his, lips close once more as he spoke against yours, "I think that we should." His lips pressed lightly against yours at first, finding a slow rhythm before quickly turning feral at the soft flesh pressing back his. He didn't care if you did or didn't kiss back, they were plump enough for him to enjoy either way but it would help a lot if you did... (Kiss him back hoe)

He hummed against your lips, both hands at your hips now, gently thumbing the bones as he lifted you up against his desk, crotches touching each other directly now, clothed arousals bumping and his hips rolling against yours harder this time, finding a slow rhythm as he deepened the kids, wrapping one of your legs around his hips. "Keep it there for me, yeah?"

You grunted when he pushed against you again, "Stop, Rindō... I-I can't..."

He ignored your request and moved you to the bed, tossing you down on it roughly. "I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're a virgin. I need you so bad, (Name). You have no idea what you've done to me all these years, especially now."

You opened your mouth to say something but you were cut off, the weight of Rindō's body over yours silenced you quickly, his fingers working your shirt and shorts off you too quickly. He lifted your hips to him, your hands pushing at his chest and your stern warning for him to stop yet again, a sure sign you didn't really want him to stop, so he thought.

He eyed the bow on your underwear, pink lace around the rim if your bikini style panties. "You really are a gift for me, huh..."

He wasted no time pulling your bra off, eyeing the way your hands shot over your breasts, covering as much of your body as you could as a few tears fell from your right eye. "Rin... Please..."

He licked his lips at your pleas, your breasts, the way you looked away from him quickly to save face. "You're so beautiful."

He pushed your arms away from your chest, eyes drinking in the sight of your nipples staring up at him as if they were telling him to suck on them, which he did, licking the tips lightly before sucking and biting at them, pained moans falling over his ears. He worked his way down your chest and stomach, wet kisses left all over while his grip on your wrists grew stronger. He didn't want you to push him off yet, he needed you to feel his infatuation with you for this part. His teeth yanked at the panties you wore, one hand coming down to rip them off, tearing the pretty fabric slowly. You whined at the friction, stinging your skin as it pulled against you. Once you were finally free from the garments, he wasted no time in kissing your pretty pussy, a small bead of arousal dripping from your slit. He loved how you were already wet for him, but he wanted more.

"Fuck..." He licked against your folds in a zigzag motion, his tongue lingering between your folds as he gently tapped his tongue against your pearl, earning him a small gasp at the feeling. He continued tapping against your clit, growing more rough when he wanted you to make those pretty sounds more, one finger rubbing against your hole.

"Say my name..."

He looked up at you, eyes trailing over your tongue darting out to lick you lips and you shook your head at him. He grunted lowly, lips attaching to your pussy, sucking on your clit and flicking his tongue against it harshly, quickly. His finger pushed into your cunt, the tightness and warmth welcoming him almost eagerly as he rotated his finger, stretching you out to fit in a second finger.

"Say it."

He continued his marvelous foreplay as he eyed your gasping and moaning form, slowly forming your moans in the shape of his name. He needed that, he needed you to moan for him, say his name with that salacious tone he loathed in the best way.

He did hate you.

He hated you for making him wait so damn long for this moment, for making him wait to hear how pretty you sounded moaning for him, moaning around his name, making him wait to see your hips jerk against his face, feeling that tight pussy around his fingers and tongue.

You felt yourself tightening around his digits, fingers digging into his sheets as you closed in on an orgasm. But he wasn't going to give it to you, instead he pulled away roughly and pressed his lips against yours, silencing your mewls for him not to stop. "Taste yourself on my tongue, pretty. You taste so sweet..."

You moaned against his tongue, diving deep into your mouth as he swirled it around, letting you suck on it and run your teeth across his tongue. "Good girl, responding so well to me now."

His shirt was thrown across the room, sweatpants slowly pulling down from his hips as he eyed your startled form, widened eyes looking up at him as his member slapped against his stomach. His v-line all but enticed you to look at it, trailing your eyes down his toned chest to his v and finally to his large cock. You cursed yourself for getting wetter just seeing it, the tip red and harder than a rock, length verging on scary. Would he fit, you thought.

He watched you eye his body and he'd be damned if he didn't get harder seeing you admire him. He loved it. He wanted your eyes to violate him the way he was violating you.

His sweatpants found their home on the floor by his shirt and he yanked one of your legs down the edge of the bed, pulling your legs up and around his hips, tip dangerously close to your entrance. "What did I say?"

He slowly pressed his tip to your clit, rubbing it gently as he waited your response, wetting his cock with your slick. "Uhm..."

He slammed his cock into your pussy, slowly rotating his hips while you screamed at him to stop, let you adjust. He ignored it and rubbed your clit as he slowly thrusted into you at first, speeding up and rutting into you harsher. "I said I- fuckkkk- wasn't going easy... On this tight little cunt. Didn't I?"

You groaned in pain, tears pricking at your eyes as a few fell down your cheeks, one hand at your mouth to give you something to bite on. "Rindō... Fuck... Stop..."

He wouldn't stop no matter how many times you begged him, pleaded with him. He needed your tight cunt to suck him in as well as it did, to push him out and pull him in at the same time. He knew he'd never find a better pussy than this anywhere. He knew he'd only have this chance once in a lifetime and he was going to take completely advantage of that.

His lips founds yours again, having ripped your hand away from your face. His cock tip slapping your cervix roughly, light strings of your blood streaking against his cock from your torn hymen. "You're so fuck-fucking tight."

He gripped your neck in one hand, thumbing your clit with other still and rolled his hips up into you, your pained moans turning into pleased mewls and whimpers as he kissed the burning patch of nerves that you didn't know existed until just then, black dots starting to fill your vision from his right grip on your throat.

Your back bowed off the bed when he hit it for the first time. "Is that your spot? You like it right there, huh?" He teased you and you hated him for it, the way he could easily overpower you, the way he could fucking ruin you effortlessly.

"Fuck you... Fuck you"

He grinned at your moans, banging against your spot harder, louder screams caressing his bedroom walls and piercing his ears, just how he liked. You squirted, juices spraying over his thick dick as you screamed out for him.

"Fuckkkk- fuck you... Fuck you... Fuck you, R-Rin..."

He lifted both of your legs up, feeling you convulse around his cock, hips stuttering against yours as he pushed your legs to the side, holding them tightly against the bed as he fucked into you from a new angle, your hands pushing at his chest, your back pressing harder into the bed. "Fuck me? Fuck me, huh?"

He angled his hips so his cock would only bang against the spot you learned to love so much in such short time, lips pressing together in another feral kiss. "Fuck me, (Name), fuck me?"

"Yes-hah!"

"It seems I'm doing all the fucking here... Why don't you give it a shot then..."

He lifted you up, another building orgasm slowly falling away as he sat in the bed with your legs on either side of his lap, pussy clenching him tightly at the new angle, all your weight pressing him further into you. "Ahh... Feel that, you little slut? You feel my cock all the way... Up here?" His fingers pressed against the bulge where his cock tip pressed inside of you.

"Nggh, Rindō..."

"What? Little slut can't move?"

He grabbed your hips in his hands, bruising them with the force of his grip and grinded you against him slowly. "You like that? You feel my-mmf- my cock against your womb... You feel me pushing into you now?"

His tip began to force its way past your cervix, the muscles inside your cunt struggling against his determination as he finally popped into your womb, tip sucked in perfectly, painfully past your cervix, fitting perfectly. You shuddered uncontrollably as you felt your juices spraying over his cock once again and pained mewls fleeing your lips as you clawed at his back, teeth finding their places in his shoulder while your toes cramped in the curled position they were in.

"If you keep squeezing me like that, I'm g-gonna cum inside this little cunny." His strained voice and twitching cock let you know he was close, and the intellectual on the inside of your conscience screamed at you to get off of him, but your body couldn't move, he wouldn't let you move, and you didn't think you minded much that he wanted to breed your tight, little pussy anymore.

You wanted him to mark you as his, you wanted him to never let up on the pounding he started into you, rutting your hips down to meet his, cock tip pushing past your cervix every thrust upwards.

Maybe you didn't mind Rindō so much, maybe you'd enjoy the time you'd spend with him working on 'the project.'

"Cum for me, slut."

He gripped your neck in his large hand, bringing you close to his face and stealing another kiss from you as he relished in the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock. Moments later, he too reached his peak and slammed you back down against the bed, hips rutting harshly, sloppily as he fingered your clit to coax your pussy into sucking him up again while he finished inside of you.

"Damn, (Name).... I think we'll have to take the 'L' fr that project. I'm not letting you leave me anytime soon."

You didn't respond at first, just stared wide eyed at him, realizing he came inside of you, your once-virgin cunt filled to the brim and you could feel his cum dripping out of you, dribbling onto the bed underneath you. "You... You came inside of me..."

His light slaps on your thighs felt like he was just finishing telling someone that "this bad girl can fit so much cum inside her."

"There's a lot more where that came from."

[freddie-weaselbee]

Close Quarters//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, sexual references, partial nudity, like one paragraph of brief smut but no details, mentions of food, accidentally getting lit on fire (oopsie spoiler), angst, rude Fred

Summary: What happens when George moves out, leaving Fred to live with the one person he despises the most? Chaos, that’s what happens. 

Prompts: Roommates and Enemies to Lovers with the prompts “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” “This is the opposite of what I told you to do.” and “You can’t banish me! This is my apartment too!”

Word Count: 9k

A/N: This is for @theweasleyslut’s birthday celebration writing challenge, happy birthday love !! And also the first fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley, enjoy!

~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~

As Fred Weasley sealed up the last box with an excess amount of tape, he took a second to step back and take in his surroundings. It was the same old loft he had lived in for the past 4 years. There was the couch and armchairs positioned around a coffee table, the Muggle guitar propped up on its stand in the corner, the many pictures of his family scattered around the open space. It was controlled chaos, and to him it was beautiful. But it was all changing, and much too soon for his liking. 

“Thanks for the help Freddie,” called his twin George from the other room. The tall ginger haired boy who had just spoken joined his slightly older brother in the main part of the loft, carrying a box filled with books he had collected over the years. “It really means a lot, Angie got pulled away for work so I know she’d appreciate it.”

Fred nodded and gave his brother a small smile. “Of course Georgie, anything else I can do?”

George took a look around the room. By the door were piles of dozens of boxes, all filled to the brim with George’s clothes and knick knacks. He sighed and scratched the back of his head, a deep sadness overtaking his features. 

“No, I think we’re alright,” he said. “Just need to get these to my new place and we should be all set.”

Fred let out a deep sigh and looked at his brother. They stared at each other for a few short seconds before dropping everything in their hands and wrapping their arms around each other. 

“Do you really have to go?” Fred whispered softly. It was so unlike him to be quiet, and even more unlike him to be nervous and shy. But watching his brother, who he had lived with for 22 years, finally leave and get his own place broke him. “It’s always been us, George, you and me, the Weasley twins. I can’t imagine living without you.”

George squeezed his twin even tighter, a loose tear falling from eye. “It’s not like I’m leaving you, me and Angelina will be just a Floo Network trip away. And you can’t expect her to stay here forever and be forced to live with you as well.”

Fred scoffed and let out a breathy chuckle. “What do you mean, she’s loved staying with us! The second she moved in with you she told me that she couldn’t imagine anything better than living with her lover and his twin brother who’s always around.”

“She was being sarcastic mate, she can only handle one twin at a time and unfortunately for you that twin is me.” George released his brother and quickly wiped his eyes, noticing Fred doing the same thing. 

“Whatever,” Fred replied, “it was getting annoying not being able to walk around freely in my own place without having to see you two shagging on every piece of furniture.”

“Not my fault she can’t resist my charms,” he said, giving his infamous Weasley smirk. “Maybe with us gone you’ll be able to finally find a girl.”

“I think I should focus on getting a roommate first,” he said, plopping down on the couch. “You know I can’t live alone. Remember before Angelina moved in and you stayed at her place for the night--”

“And you showed up at Ginny and Harry’s and crawled into bed with them because you were scared? Yeah, no one in the family’s gonna let you forget that anytime soon.” Fred shoved his brother and crossed his arms, sinking deeper into the cushions. 

“Sod off, you never know what could be lurking in the dark.” 

George laughed and joined his brother, kicking his feet onto the coffee table. “You know,” he began, mischief gleaming in his eyes, “I do think I have an answer to your roommate problem.”

“Really?” Fred asked, shooting up. The less time he had to spend alone at night, and alone in general, the better. 

“Yeah,” said George, “I ran into one of my old friends from school and turns out they’re looking for a place to stay and maybe earn some extra money. I was thinking that maybe, since you’ve got the space and we need some help in the shop anyway, they could take the other room and work downstairs on the weekends.”

Fred looked quizzically at his double, trying to read his intentions. “And who, pray tell, might this friend be?”

George just smirked and went to collect the rest of the boxes. “That, dear brother, is a surprise.”

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

You made your way down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, a place you had more recently been finding yourself. Work at the Ministry had been tiring, especially your first few years. But ever since the war ended and everything began to quiet down, you’d had some more free time to finally take in the world around you. 

It stood out like a sore thumb. The bright and gleaming storefront with an animatronic face looking down at you. You had never visited Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes before, always nervous about running into a certain redhead and falling back into the same argumentative habits you’d had at Hogwarts. Fred had always made it his goal to make your life a living hell, and you couldn’t lie, you did the same to him. But after having lunch with George a few days ago and suddenly receiving a letter to come and visit him at his shop, you decided that it was finally time to see the inside of Diagon Alley’s most booming business. 

The doorbell jingled as you walked in, catching the attention of your friend behind the counter. 

“Y/N!” George cried. He hopped over the register, knocking a few things down from shelves, before pulling you into a hug. 

“Hey George! So, this is the place, huh?” The inside was even more spectacular than the outside. The walls were lined with products from end to end, some of them you recognized from the twins’ testing at Hogwarts and others were completely new. An animatronic doll of Umbridge was riding across a rope close to the ceiling, making you laugh and remembering the horrors of your 7th year when the pink nightmare was in charge. 

“This is it!” George had his arm around your shoulder as he showed you around, pointing out different products and trying desperately to sell you one of their love potions, knowing exactly how single you were. 

“This is incredible, George, I can’t believe you guys actually did it.”

“You doubted us? And I thought we were friends!” He clutched his heart and doubled over, accidentally stumbling into a display and making all of the products crashing down. 

“Oi, George what are you doing down there?” You froze at the voice, one you hadn’t heard in years and one that you weren’t too keen on hearing any time soon. Fred appeared on the steps, wearing a dapper purple and orange suit, his hair slightly ruffled. The grin on his face disappeared when he made eye contact with you, being replaced with a scowl. “What’s she doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Weasley.” You smiled at him, a fake mocking smile that made his blood boil, and how you loved getting under his skin. 

“George,” he said, acting as though you weren’t even in the room. 

The man in question shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket. “Well, uh, you see…”

“George sent me a letter the other day,” you interrupted. “Said that he had a proposition that he wanted to talk about and asked if I could come in today.”

Realization dawned on Fred and his eyes grew wide. “Oh no, George are you serious? She was the one you were talking about?”

You furrowed your brow in both confusion at the situation and anger at Fred, who had made you upset in record time today. “Talking about what? All I know is that he wanted to ask me something and I agreed to meet with him.” You turned to face the other twin. “What’s going on?”

“Ok, both of you calm down,” he said, hands up in defense. “Let me explain. Y/N, you know how you said you really needed a place to stay, as well as somewhere to work part time?”

It took you a couple of seconds, but you then understood what he was insinuating. “No. There’s no way, how am I supposed to live with you two when he’s going to be an annoying prat every second?”

“You’re not the most lovable person yourself, darling,” Fred sneered. “And besides, you wouldn’t be living with us. George moved out to get an apartment with Angelina. You’d be living with only me.”

Without a second thought you turned around and started toward the exit. “Well, I appreciate the offer George and it was great to catch up, hopefully next time I see you I won’t be bothered by your other half.”

“Y/N wait!” George cried, catching up to you and grabbing your wrist. “Listen, I know these aren’t the most...ideal conditions for you--”

“Same goes for me!” Fred called from the stairs. 

George sighed heavily, rubbing his temple in frustration. “Y/N, I’ve missed you over the past few years. I know that you and Fred don’t exactly get along.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” you said through gritted teeth. “He’s annoying, cocky, inconsiderate, and--”

“And he’s my brother,” said George. “He’s a good person, and for whatever reason you two decided to hate each other, I can promise that the Fred you think you know is nothing like the real one.”

You paused your struggle against his arm and decided to let him continue on. 

“Let’s be real here. You need a place to stay and rent for most places in Diagon Alley is insane. If you stay here you get a nice bedroom, a cozy living room, a great view of London from the roof, and a low rate for rent. You can even work down here on the weekends to get the extra money you need. The only thing you need to do is be civil with Fred, that’s all.”

“That’s a lot more difficult than it sounds when someone’s as much of an arse as he is.”

Fred rolled his eyes and came over to join the conversation. “What would I get out of this arrangement George? I don’t know if you were unaware, but I don’t exactly need money at the moment, we’re doing just fine as it is.”

Great, you thought, he’s a pompous rich kid too. Gets a little money and it goes all to his head. 

“Fred, what were we talking about the other night?” George prodded. “You hate being alone, especially at night. If Y/N’s here, then you’ll have someone to keep you company, someone who’s always in the loft with you.”

“Aww, is little Freddie afraid of the dark?” you mocked, sticking out your bottom lip and jesting in a baby voice. 

He practically growled back. “Shut the fuck up, you--”

George put his hands out, one on your shoulder and one on Fred’s chest to separate the two of you. “It’s a mutually beneficial deal. You both know that you don’t have any other options, and maybe if you two dimwits spend some time together you won’t be at each other’s throat all the time! Now, what do you say? Just try it out.”

You looked Fred up and down dramatically, letting him know how much distaste for him you had. He did the same back to you but paused for a brief moment at your boobs, causing you to blush and look away. 

Fred was the first to give in. “Fine. I’m willing to try it if she will. As long as we establish some ground rules, starting with you can never come into my room, got it?”

It took everything you had not to slap the shit out of the man standing in front of you, but George was right. You didn’t have any other options. 

“I’ll at least have my own bathroom, right?” you asked George. 

He laughed guiltily and mentally prepared himself for another barrage of yells. “You see, about that…”

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

“Your room’s at the end of the hall, bathroom’s to the right, my room’s to the left, have at it.” 

You dropped the heavy boxes you had been carrying onto the floor and leaned over to catch your breath. Fred was standing nonchalantly in the kitchen, pulling out the bread and jam to make a sandwich. 

“Excuse me?” you asked indignantly. 

“You’re excused,” he replied, not even looking up. 

You stomped over to the small kitchenette and slammed the refrigerator door shut, which Fred just opened again seconds later. You tried again, but he merely sighed and reached for the handle. Finally after not being able to take any more you shoved his hand aside and stood in front of the door, leaning all of your weight onto it. 

“Something I can help you with, doll?” 

The anger coursing through your boy only intensified, nails leaving marks on the insides of your clenched hands. “First of all, don’t call me doll, understand?”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed you by the waist, lifting you to the side so he could once again get to his food. “I’ll call you what I want, darling.”

By this point you had completely given into your anger. Pulling your wand from your back pocket you shoved it under his chin, forcing him against a nearby wall and making him finally pay attention to you. “You listen here, Freddie,” you snarled. “Neither of us want this to happen, that’s a fact. But if you get to have ground rules then so do I, and I will not sit here and be quite literally tossed around like some quaffle! Have I made myself clear?”

It was subtle, but Fred gulped. You had always scared him at Hogwarts, which is one of the reasons he picked on you so much. He’d rather be on the offensive than always backed into a corner playing defense. 

“Ok doll--sorry, I mean Y/N. Let’s sit down and go over any rules, ok? As much as I enjoy being pinned to the wall by you, I think we need to defuse the tension, yeah?”

Even when he was trying to make peace he was infuriating. But you relented and slowly let the wand down, pulling out a chair at the countertop with Fred joining right next to you. 

Fred summoned a piece of parchment and a pen (which was always much easier to use than quills) and messily scrawled ‘Loft Rules’ on the top. 

“Alright, you can go first,” he offered. 

You thought for a moment before delivering your demands. “Number one, no nicknames. I go by Y/N, and I refuse to answer to anything else.” He nodded and wrote it down. 

“Number two. You can’t ignore me. I know you think you’re better than me and that I’m not worth your time, but if I’m going to be your roommate then you have to treat me as an equal, and I’ll do the same to you.” 

“Yeah,” Fred scoffed, “just like you did back in Hogwarts.”

“Can we please not focus on the past?” you asked. “I know we were both horrible arses to each other, but we’re not kids anymore. I’ll respect you if you respect me. It’s not that difficult.”

Fred grumbled in agreement and wrote down the second rule. “Anything else?”

“Don’t go through my room or my stuff. I have some very personal items and I would appreciate you keeping your nose out of them.”

Fred put the pen to his chin in concentration, ideas forming in his head. 

“Fred,” you scolded. “No touching my things. That’s final.” 

“Fine, but the same goes for me,” he said. “That’s my rule number one, stay out of my room and don’t touch any of my personal items. Furniture and that kind of thing don’t count.”

You nodded. “That’s only fair. Rule number two?”

“George and I are always working on new products, and usually testing them out on people. We’ll pay you to test them if you want, but if not you need to stay out of our way and mind your own business.”

“I’ll test anything you guys have, I did it back at school and I’m sure you’re much more professional now.”

“What?” Fred asked, completely confused. “When did you test our products?”

“Who do you think was the one who tried, and eventually perfected, the skiving snackboxes? George asked me to help him with them so I skipped prefect duties for a few nights and we figured it all out.”

“There’s no way you were the one who fixed them! I’ve been giving George the credit this whole time, how in the world did you do that?”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t top of our class for nothing, Freddie.”

“Oh I know, you never let me hear the end of it.”

Before you could say something in response Fred rushed on to his last request.

“Number three,” he said, smirking widely. “You can’t complain about any of the girls I bring home, and you can’t get in their way or say bad things about me. Believe it or not, I can be quite charming and I give everyone a good time, so no complaints of noise either. And we don’t use silencing spells, so get ready for that.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Thank you. Now, I’m going downstairs to help George with a new shipment that just came in. Have fun unpacking your things!” He didn’t even give you a chance to say anything before aparating downstairs, leaving you alone in the large loft. You sighed and went to grab the boxes, dragging everything to the room you would be stuck in for who knows how long. 

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

“This is the ugliest uniform I’ve ever seen!” 

“Then it’ll match the rest of your personality! Put it on.”

You scoffed at Fred’s remark but decided not to argue. No matter how much you despised the boy you figured it probably wasn’t the best idea to start off by insulting your boss. Fred Weasley was your boss. You never thought you would reach this low of a point in your life. 

The outfit you had to wear was exactly what Fred and George wore, which was fine for them, two 6’ 3” men. But the oversized male suit that you had to roll up countless times really didn’t suit your figure, and Fred knew that all too well. 

Scrunching up the pant legs and fastening the tie, you made your way out of the loft to join the twins down in their office, running into George on the way down. 

“Hey Y/N, sleep well?” George asked, handing you a latte he had bought from the coffee shop down the street. 

You gave him a grateful nod and took a sip. “Hardly. I didn’t get moved in until about 2 in the morning and I always have trouble falling asleep in a new place, so let’s just say last night was a pretty rough start.”

“Fred didn’t help you unpack your things?” George questioned, looking a little surprised. “That must’ve taken you ages to get everything set up.”

“You’re telling me. But no, he just holed himself up in his room, ordered takeout around 9, then went back to his room and that’s all I saw of him. But I mean that’s pretty in character, yeah? Never really liked me much.”

It took George a few seconds to take in everything you were telling him. Fred was never one to ignore someone, especially someone he was living with. “Yeah,” he said, “but even so he was never actually rude to you at school right? I always thought it was some teenage rivalry fueled by hormones of something like that.”

“I wish it was that simple,” you sighed. “But I always appreciate when he’s leaving me alone. It’s a lot better than some of the asshole things he would say and do when we were kids. Trust me, the less we interact, the better.”

George was speechless with shock, but you didn’t notice. You made your way to some shelves to tidy up before the shop opened, leaving George standing open mouthed. 

He watched as Fred finally exited the office with a stack of papers piled higher than his head. He dropped them next to you, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Fill these out for me will ya? Order forms, due back to me by noon. Shouldn’t be too complicated for you to understand, but let me know if you need me to explain what any of the big words mean.”

“Of course, sir.” you said, picking up the stack and taking it to the back. Fred came over to join his brother, who looked appalled at Fred’s actions. 

“What?” he asked. 

“I love you, but you’re a fucking moron.” George followed you into the back while Fred stared at him, confused on why his brother had for once in his life not been on his side. 

George spent the rest of the morning showing you the ropes until you felt you were comfortable enough with the setup to be able to help them stock products and show people around. It was a nice change from your Ministry job, which was predictable and could be quite boring. This job had you always on your toes, talking with kids and demonstrating some of your favorite products. 

The twins came back from their lunch break around one and were met with a large crowd of kids following you around like lost puppies. They were all grinning widely and laughing at every demonstration you provided, making you mirror their actions with glee. 

You tried to show the kids how to use one of the newer products, but it ended up exploding in your face, making everyone howl with laughter, including yourself.

Fred watched you interact with the kids, enraptured by how easily you seemed to get along with them. When he knew you at Hogwarts he always thought you were a cocky and arrogant student who would’ve hated the idea of his pranks and jokes. The person he was watching now was nothing like the one he remembered. 

“She’s a natural, huh?” whispered George, snapping Fred out of his stupor. “She’s always been good with kids, they seem to love her.”

“Y/N?” Fred asked. “She was so cold back in Hogwarts, I never saw her smile once!”

“Really?” George asked bewildered. “She’s always been a blast! Lee and her were friends and I can’t help but think he might’ve sparked the wild side in her, but I’ve never seen her be cold to anyone. Well, anyone except you.”

Before Fred could see anything you noticed the twins’ arrival. Smiling, you gestured to them and announced their presence in a regal voice. “And there they are, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!”

The kids cheered and ran over to greet Fred and George, bouncing with excitement and berating them with questions about their products. George gave you a teasing glare as he was dragged across the floor while you sat on the counter, laughing at the scene you caused. But when you went to look at Fred, who you expected to be ignoring you, he was doing the complete opposite. 

He was staring at you unashamedly, his eyes burning into yours. You awkwardly looked away, but when you glanced back a few seconds later he was still analyzing you, as if he was trying to figure out everything about you. You cleared your throat and moved to the back office, hoping you could get a start on that paperwork and maybe shake the weird feeling you got when Fred looked at you like that. 

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

“All closed up for the night?”

You jumped at Fred’s voice, which had distracted you from casting the last of the protective charms needed to keep the shop locked up. With an entire alley filled with wizards who learned Alohomora in their first year at Hogwarts, it was safe to say they needed their fair share of charms to keep the store from being robbed. 

“I was almost there, before you interrupted,” you said, turning back to the final spells you needed to cast. It had been a few weeks since you moved in with Fred and it had honestly been a lot better than you had expected. Of course, you two were still constantly at each other’s throats and the neighbors had complained about shouting matches more than once, but neither of you had killed the other yet and you considered that a victory. 

As you finished up the last of your closing duties you saw George grabbing his things and heading to the Floo network upstairs, trying to rush past and avoid you and Fred. 

“Hey!” you yelled after him. He stopped dead in his tracks and tried to shrink down as if to hide from you. But, being over 6 feet tall, it was rather difficult for him to disappear. “Where do you think you’re going? Stop trying to sneak off on us!”

“Yeah,” said Fred. “We’ve had takeout the last three nights in a row, we need you to stay and cook us a decent meal so I don’t have to smell Y/N’s fast food breath anymore.”

You elbowed him but nodded in agreement, you were getting absolutely sick of not having a home cooked meal. 

“Guys,” George groaned, “I need to get home to see Angie! I’ve been working late for the past week and it’s been a while since we’ve had some...alone time.”

You and Fred both covered your ears and gagged, pretending to pop a puking pastille and subsequently throw up. 

“You’re both so immature, and that’s coming from me,” he said smiling. “Besides, isn’t it high time you two learned to cook for yourselves? What were you gonna do, just have me cook for you the rest of your lives?”

“Yes,” you and Fred replied in unison, shooting each other dirty looks before turning back to your friend. Fred, with his unhealthy obsession with pyrotechnics, and you, with your lack of basic common sense, were never allowed in the kitchen before, and so neither of you had any idea how to cook even the most simple of meals. 

George rolled his eyes and continued up the stairs to the loft, you and Fred following shortly behind him. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, just follow the recipe I laid out for you. It’s spaghetti, I’m sure even you two couldn’t mess that up.” And with that, George had whooshed through the fireplace, leaving only you and Fred in the kitchen. 

You stared at each other for a second, before you came to a decision. “I’ll order the takeout, you want Chinese tonight?”

You picked up one of the many takeout menus you had lying around and began to skim through it when Fred spoke up. “No, George is right. We might as well try to learn, and with two of us we should be able to figure it out.”

You looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “That is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve had some really dumb ideas.”

“C’mon,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “We’re both smart, some of us more so than others. How bad can it possibly be?”

Answer: very bad. 

Fred was running around the kitchen screaming at the top of his lungs while the fire alarm blared all throughout the loft. “Y/N, help! It won’t stop screaming at me!”

“I don’t know what to do!” you yelled, throwing the burning cookbook into the sink. There was still smoke rising from it, which made the alarm continue to beep at full volume. You grabbed the pot of boiling water and poured it down the drain, hoping that it would put out any of the pages that were still flaming. But the water only splashed up at you, making you yelp and fall backwards in order to avoid being burned by the liquid. 

Fred was still scrambling through the rooms and he didn’t notice your body laying on the floor, causing him to trip over you and faceplant into the spilled marinara sauce. 

The two of you tried to get up but your limbs became tangled in each other’s and you ended up on the ground again. After a few struggles you were finally back on your feet, but you were once again off of them as Fred hoisted you into the table. 

“Get on my shoulders,” he said over the sound of the alarm. You climbed on and reached up to fumble around with all of the buttons on the device. “Hurry up, Y/N, I can’t support you for much longer!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” After what felt like ages you had finally pushed the right sequence and the loft was drowned in a sudden silence. Both you and Fred let out sighs of relief as he lowered you back onto the table. You hopped off and took a few steps back, finally taking in the disastrous scene around you.

“Well,” you said relieved, “at least that’s over.”

You turned to smile at Fred but we’re only met with a wide eyed look of pure horror. 

“Fred? What is it?”

It was then that you smelled it. The familiar burning that had just been flooding your nostrils moments before was suddenly back and stronger than ever.

Slowly, you turned your head to look behind you, and your eyes widened even larger than Fred’s had. “I’m on fire!”

Sure enough, your oversized sweater had been dangling in the flame of the kitchen stove, which neither of you had remembered to turn off. The bottom of your outfit was slowly burning, bright orange and red flames climbing up your torso. 

“Fuck! Fred, do something!” you wailed. You began running around the kitchen and spinning around faster and faster to try to put out the fire. 

“I’m trying!” Fred grabbed a blanket from the living room and draped it over you, hoping to cut off the oxygen flow. But the fire only spread to the blanket, making your situation ten times worse. 

“What the fuck Fred?! Do something useful!”

Fred dove under the table, reaching for his wand. He shimmied under a little more, but his right pant leg got caught in the burning blanket, meaning that both of you were now being engulfed by the flames. 

“Holy shit!” He patted the small flames on his pants away, but you were frantically trying to shove yourself into the sink under the running water. 

Grabbing his wand, Fred tried to get up, banging his head on the table in the process, and aimed it at you. “We never should’ve tried cooking! I can’t believe you talked me into this!”

“This is the opposite of what I told you to do!” you shrieked. “Now put the fire out you moron!”

Fred quickly cast Aguamenti, sending gallons upon gallons of water out of his wand and straight onto your flailing body, as well as the burning blanket. You sat in the sink, ass half in the now empty spaghetti pot, completely drenched from head to toe. Fred’s pant leg was still simmering, and his entire face was covered in marinara sauce, which had dripped down to cover most of his shirt. After all of the shock of what had just happened finally passed, a small smile crept onto both of your faces, and soon you were both bent over laughing hysterically. 

Fred lifted you out of the sink, pushing you away suddenly when he realized how much water was dripping onto him. “C’mon, love, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Hey, I thought I said no nicknames,” you teased, falling in step with him as you both rushed to your shared bathroom. 

“C’mon, just this one, please? I deserve it after what you put me through back there.” He gave his best puppy dog eyes but you didn’t fall for it for a second. 

“What I put you through?!” you said, bumping into his shoulder. “You thought we were supposed to light the noodles to get them to soften! I caught on fire for Pete’s sake!”

He laughed at you as you turned on the bathroom sink and tugged at your sweater. It was completely scorched in the back, black all the way up to your collar. You were lucky Fred had put it out when he did, otherwise there was a good chance it could have damaged your hair. 

You took the now ruined sweater off, leaving you standing there in only your bra and a pair of comfortable pants. You could feel Fred’s gaze on your body, making your face turn red and you instinctively covered yourself up. He unbuckled his scorched trousers and hung them in the shower, hoping that maybe he could get some material and fix them later. 

The both of you realized simultaneously that you were each half naked, and you were completely soaked wearing a fairly transparent white bra. Deciding to distract from the obvious tension, you finally broke the silence. “This may sound completely ludacris, considering I was just, y’know, on fire, but that was one of the most exciting and fun things that’s happened in a while. Reminds me of when we were back in school, with all of the mischief and pranks.”

“Back in school?” Fred replied. “I thought you hated my pranks! You seemed like you were so, i dunno, above me. And I thought you hated everything fun and exciting!”

“You’re not serious, are you?” You smiled at his confused expression. “I was friends with Lee and your brother. The amount of trouble I would get in when you were off in detention or shagging some girl in our year...it was fantastic. I never hated your pranks, I just hated you. No offense.”

He shrugged. “None taken. I hated you too. But you’re nothing like I thought you were.”

You took a step closer to him, softly biting your lip as you grinned sheepishly. “You’re nothing like I thought either.”

This time Fred moved a few inches closer, his hand hovering over your hip and eyes taking in all of you. His fingers brushed against your side ever so softly, caressing your side with his fairy light touches. You slowly parted your lips and he did the same, continuing to grow closer and closer until--

“What the bloody hell happened here?!”

The two of you shot apart at the noise, registering that it must’ve been George who had used the Floo network to come back to the loft. You avoided eye contact with the redhead standing next to you as you both exited the bathroom and went to find George, who was looking wide eyed at the complete mess you had created all over the apartment. 

“Y’know what,” he said after looking at the current state the two of you were in, “ I don’t wanna know. I just wanted to come back, grab the papers I left here, and be on my merry way.”

He stopped short, looking over at you again. “Nice tits, Y/N.”

You quickly crossed your arms in front of your chest again and Fred stood in between you and George, blocking his view of your very exposed self. 

“Calm down, Freddie, I have a girlfriend, I’m not going to be ogling your roommate, dear brother.” He tiptoed around the giant mess and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on the coffee table. “Oh, and before I forget, Y/N, remember that guy I was telling you about? The one investor I work with?” he said with a wink. 

“Umm, yeah, what about him?” you asked, still very shaken up about the events of the evening. 

“He said he’d love to get to know you! I told him he’s your type and apparently you’re very much his, so I set up a date for you two tomorrow night. Is that alright?”

Fred snapped his head in your direction but you refused to look at him. What had happened in the bathroom was a mistake, an adrenaline induced mistake that almost changed everything for your roommate dynamic. You couldn’t mess things up now, not when you and Fred had finally been getting along. Besides, you had been dying to get out and date, and George had at long last found you someone that wasn’t a complete asshole. You’d be a fool to not give it a shot. “Y-yeah, that sounds great.” 

“Perfect,” he replied. “I’ll see you two tomorrow then. And please, don’t ever cook again. I promise I’ll be here to make you a nice meal next time, alright?”

George disappeared once again, leaving you with the man who had almost kissed you in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Fred moved away quickly, going to clean up the mess the two of you had made. You tried to follow and help him, but he just shooed you away and back to your room. 

Just a few seconds ago Fred was mere millimeters away from you, but now he felt like he was millions of miles away. 

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

“Ready, Y/N?”

George was standing in the opening of the bathroom door, watching as you put the finishing touches on your makeup. You decided to put your best foot forward tonight. No use wasting a great opportunity just because of some unwanted confusions from the other day. Turning to face you friend you did a little twirl, dress flying up and spinning around you. 

“How do I look?” you asked bashfully. 

“Brilliant,” George replied, a proud grin on his face. “Let’s get you downstairs, he’ll be waiting to meet you.” 

The two of you made your way to the staircase leading out of the loft, when a very upset and very tipsy Fred stumbled by the two of you. He pushed past and didn’t even stop to say anything before heading out of the shop and down the street. 

“Where’s he off to?” you asked. 

“Oh, just to shag another random girl he finds at a bar. It’s a weekly occurrence for him at this point. It stopped once you moved in though, this is the first time he’s gone out since you’ve lived here.” George looked longingly at his brother, who had always turned away from his problems and instead focused on firewhisky and girls to temporarily ease his pain. 

“So, he doesn’t really date then? Just the hookup type?” you prodded, hoping against all odds that George would give you the answer you wanted to hear. 

“He used to, back in school and before the war. But something just happened after he got out of the pile of rubble,” he said. “I haven’t ever seen the same girl around here more than once or twice. But hey, as long as he’s alright it’s really none of my business. I just gotta look out for him, y’know?”

You gave George a reassuring smile. “You’re a great brother, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. Now get out there and get yourself a man!” George gave you a little shove in the right direction and you set off for your date. 

Although you were hoping that this could be a change of pace, a push in the right direction, the date did not go anything like you were wishing it would. 

The man George had told you about, Jason, was a perfectly fine guy. He was polite, charming, very handsome. But while the two of you wined and dined, you couldn’t help but compare him to something else. Someone else. No matter what he said, what jokes he would crack, it just wasn’t what you wanted. 

You thanked him for a wonderful evening, but it was fairly obvious that neither of you had intentions of seeing each other again. As you sulked through the dark streets of nocturnal Diagon Alley, you couldn’t help but mentally kick yourself for giving up so easily. One date and you decided that this man wasn’t worth your time. And for what? An unrealistic expectation you’d conjured up in your head about what your ideal person would be. 

As you trudged up the stairs to the loft, thinking about how in the world you would ever be able to actually find someone else to go out with, you heard shouting from inside the apartment. You reached to open the door, only to have it yanked open and a young woman, clothes hastily thrown on and pure fury etched across her brow, came charging out. 

“This must be her, isn’t it? This is Y/N!” she turned her back and yelled. Fred suddenly appeared, shocked to see you home so early. “Well, answer me!”

Fred and you both stood there speechless, Fred not knowing what to say and you now knowing what was going on. “Y/N…” he finally said, so quietly that you could barely hear him. 

This just set the other girl off again. “What are you, his girlfriend, wife maybe?” 

You shook your head fervently. “N-no, not at all! We’re just... roommates.”

The girl seemed to calm after this, reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder. “That’s a relief I guess. I thought I had just become an accidental homewrecker!”

“Homewrecker?” you exclaimed. You didn’t even know this girl, she was just one of Fred’s random hookups, but she thought that she would be breaking up a nonexistent relationship between you and Fred. 

“Yeah,” she said, “he brings me home from the bar, sweet talks me, gets me naked, and you’ll never guess whose name he moaned as he--”

“That’s enough!” Fred yelled, shoving the girl out past you and grabbing your wrist to pull you into the loft. “Look, I’m sorry Marcy--”

“It’s Macy, you dumbass,” she said, fixing her messed up hair and putting on a look of confidence. “And the night is still young, so if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go find someone else who can actually remember my name!” She slammed the door shut behind her, the thud echoing across the walls. 

You clicked your tongue, trying to fill the absence of noise without wanting to bring up the very interesting news Macy had provided. “So, I’m sorry about your date--”

“Let’s not talk about it,” he interrupted. “I’m going to bed and I don’t want you to mention this to anyone else, understand?”

You didn’t give him any attention as you went to your room, trying to comprehend everything that happened. “Well, my date was a bust too, thanks for asking,” you said as you copied the earlier actions of Macy and slammed your door shut. You undressed and removed your makeup, hoping that a long night’s sleep would allow you to decompress and somehow sort out everything you were feeling. 

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

Your goals of a long and peaceful sleep were shattered as a high pitched, incredibly annoying alarm clock beeped from the room adjacent to yours. You groaned and covered your ears with your pillow, trying to block out the noise to no avail. Rolling over, you saw your clock displaying 6:00 am, a time you definitely didn’t want to get up at on your day off. 

You thought Fred would have woken up by now and turned off the horrid sounds, but it continued to ring through your ears, getting louder and louder each time. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and you jumped out of bed, storming over to Fred’s locked bedroom door. 

“Frederick Gideon Weasley!” you screamed, banging on his door. His blaring alarm was only adding to your awful mood, caused by the terrible night you had before. You didn’t think you could stand one more second of the noises and you were practically screaming Fred’s name. 

“Turn that off, right now! Fred I’m not kidding! This is your last chance.” You continued to pound your fist against the door to the point where you knew you were going to bruise if you had to continue. Completely fed up with the situation and with Fred in general you pulled out your wand and unlocked the door. 

“Fred Weasley for the love of--” You stopped abruptly and took in the scene in front of you. You’d never seen the inside of Fred’s room before, but you had to imagine that it didn’t always look this bad. This...dark.

 The drapes were hanging from the windows, covering any source of light that could’ve possibly come in. Clothes were strewn across the floor and small knick knacks were thrown everywhere with no care. The alarm continued to blare, but you couldn’t focus on that at the moment, the only thing you could focus on was Fred. 

He was curled up in his bed, Muggle headphones covering his ears and blasting music so loud that you could hear it clearly from across the room. He was clutching a pillow into his chest, head buried into it and his body shaking with what you thought to be sobs. No, it couldn’t be. Fred couldn’t be crying. 

Suddenly he jerked up and threw off his headphones, finally noticing your presence. “Freddie…” you said softly.

“Get. The fuck. Out.” he growled. He wiped his tears away and the sadness you had just seen in him had completely turned into something else. Complete anger. 

You ignored his command. “Fred, are you ok?”

Shooting out of bed, clothed only in his boxers, Fred grabbed his wand and almost charged at you. “I said get out!” he screamed, tears continuing to stream from his face. “Go! Leave! I don’t want to see you again!”

You backed out of the room, hands in the air as the tall infuriated figure towered over you with his wand in your face. “Yeah, ok I’ll just, umm, go back to my room.” 

You tried to rush back to the safety of your bedroom but a harsh hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. “No,” he seethed. “I said get out, that means get. out. Get out of my apartment.”

“Freddie…”

“Don’t call me that!” He wasn’t even trying to hide the tears now. They came streaming out, drowning his face. “Leave the apartment and don’t come back. You’re… you’re banished!”

“Excuse me?” you asked, hands on your hips.

“I said you’re hereby banished from the loft and from my store!” 

“You can’t banish me! This is my apartment too!”

“Banished! Leave! Go!” He ran into your room and started pulling clothes out of your drawers, throwing everything onto piles on your floor. 

“Fred! Stop that, what are you doing?”

“I said banished and that’s final, get your things and leave.” He continued to pack your clothes, not even paying attention to what he was tossing and barely being able to see through his tears. 

“Well...you’re banished too!” you screamed at him. “You’re in my room, that’s one of the rules! Get out, you’re banished!”

“No, you’re banished, I said it first so only mine counts!” 

“No, you’re banished”

“No you are!”

“No--”

“Just get the fuck out Y/N!” Fred yelled, louder than he’d yelled anything before. “I can’t stand seeing you anymore and you need to go!”

“Why?” you pushed. “I see you crying one time and suddenly you can’t stand me? Are you really that scared of being vulnerable?”

“Yes!”

You both froze, taking in what he just said. He sucked in a deep breath and wiped his face with one of the shirts he was holding, coming close and staring straight down into your eyes. 

“Yes. I don’t want you to see me curled up in my bed, crying into my fucking pillow because I miss my twin brother! Because I can’t handle being alone, and even when someone's living with me I’m still alone! Because you hate me, and I can’t even tell the girl I live with that I love her, because then you’ll laugh at me and leave! And maybe it’s easier to just make you go rather than being abandoned, again. So, Y/N, you’re banished, from my apartment and from my life.”

As he finished his rant you stood there, not knowing what to do or say. The ever-happy, cocky, overbearingly confident man in front of you had just vented out everything he had been feeling for the last few months. You couldn’t think straight or come to a rational decision. So you did the first thing that came to your mind. You grabbed his cheeks in your hand and pulled him down, enveloping his lips in yours. 

He didn’t hesitate to kiss back aggressively, all tongue and teeth. It was nothing like any first kiss you’d had with anyone else; it wasn’t sweet or loving. It was passionate and needy, and it was both of you confessing everything you’d held in your hearts for the past few months, and if you’re being honest, for the past decade. 

In seconds you were on the bed, legs straddling the person you had despised for years. Neither of you could let go of each other, only coming up for air when absolutely necessary. Hands on each other’s bodies, clothes abandoned on the floor, screams of each other’s names and moans of ‘I love you’s echoing off the bedroom walls, until the two of you were tired and panting, your head resting on his chest and his arms around your waist. 

You twisted your head to stare up at Fred’s sweat-glistening face, the tears long since dried and his expression showing none of the negativity it had before. Snuggling into his bare chest even more, you murmured something too quiet for him to hear. 

“What was that, darling?”

“I asked if you still wanted to banish me after that.”

He laughed and squeezed his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Definitely not. I mean, unless you want to go.” He shifted nervously, fears of abandonment and rejection resurfacing. What if this was just a heat of the moment thing? What if all you wanted was a one time hookup and you didn’t have real feelings for him? What if he was bad? No, that last one couldn’t be it, your screams had said otherwise. But everything else…

“Of course I don’t want to leave Freddie, but you did break the “no nicknames” rule a second ago, so maybe I should banish you.” He ruffled your hair and glared at you before chuckling and slowly closing his eyes. 

“Hey Freddie,” you asked quietly. “Did you mean what you said? About loving me?”

“Course I did, love. Why do you think I was such an arse at Hogwarts? You were too pretty and perfect and the stupid guys were always talking to you. Made me bloody pissed. I’m sorry about everything I’ve done to hurt you, really I am.” You could hear his heart beating faster at his apology. You traced your cool hands in patterns on his chest, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Well I was never an angel either,” you said. “One time I snogged Roger right outside the Gryffindor Common Room just because I knew you were gonna be leaving for Quidditch practice soon and I liked getting under your skin.”

“I knew that was planned!” he said, shooting up and making your head hit the headboard behind you. “No one believed me, but I knew you were a little minx just trying to get under my skin. But I see nothing’s really changed, has it?”

“Oh shut up!” you said, suddenly self conscious of your very naked body being on full display, Fred’s eyes raking you over. You covered up and snuggled back into the bed. “I love you too, y’know. I’m sorry I’m such a stuck-up snob sometimes.”

“S’okay, darling. I know you were just like that in response to me. Sorry for pushing you away so many times. I guess I tend to do that a lot.”

“Hey.” You raked your hands through Fred's messy ginger hair, pulling strands into tiny braids. “You know that George didn’t abandon you, right? He loves you more than I’ve ever seen someone love before.”

Fred nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes again. “Yeah, I know. But it’s hard. We shared a room for 18 years straight, both at home and at Hogwarts. Then we shared an apartment, and now it feels like he’s not even here anymore. Which is bloody stupid because I see him downstairs every day. I just...I want to be able to come home and tell someone all about my day, and talk about dreams and goals until 3 in the morning, and--”

“And try to cook dinner together only to end up on fire?” you interrupted with a smile on your face. “I know I’m no George, but I want to be there for you in any way I can. Stay up late and go on adventures and go on double dates with your brother and Angelina. I wanna be yours. I mean, if you’ll let me.”

Fred cupped your cheek and pulled you into a chaste kiss. “I’ll do more than let you, I was about to ask anyways but you had to beat me to it, didn’t you?”

“It’s a habit,” you shrugged. “I’m glad you tried to banish me.”

“I’m glad you wouldn’t let me. Looks like your stubbornness finally paid off.” You shoved his chest lightly and wrapped your arm across his torso. 

“I love you Freddie.”

“I love you too.”

A few silent moments passed with the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms. “Hey Fred?” you said, finally breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?”

“Can you please get up and turn off that bloody alarm?”

Tag List(specific fic): @lucymfer

Message me to be on my main taglist or any of my series taglists!

[inviouswriting]

Lovely nails

Lucifer x domme!fem reader. 

Specific kinks - lingerie with high heels, stocking fetish, lipstick, nail polish and brat!submissive. toys, established relationship, polyamory. I’ll add more if I’m forgetting anything.

Smut. I promise a good time, this was burning in my head to write.

When you entered into a pact with Lucifer, he thought he would call more of the shots when it came to your relationship. Yet through your commands, you quickly showed him that the one in charge is always you, even when you are submissive sometimes to him.

Even now, you and him settle for the evening, you had tugged out a box of make up you keep. You look through the colors trying to decide. The lipstick you chose though is a dark red, your lovers favorite color on you. He had gifted you the shade the night you two entered into the dominant and submissive scene. 

“Luci~ you’re unusually quiet tonight. It isn’t nice to pout.” You cast your gaze over to him, he is sitting underneath you, doing his best to look anywhere except you. 

A light flush on his skin, but you could see him pouting. How he ended up underneath you, he started to kiss your neck and lead into being dominant for the night. You had other plans for your fallen angel, you tug the stockings on your thighs up higher a red and black sheer number the panties to it crotchless and held together by garters. A valentines gift from Lucifer. 

“I’m not pouting.” He says hurried, turning his head more to side eye your figure in the black and red lace. You can feel the twitch between your thighs, but ignore it. When he got too handsy you commanded him to stop and lay down. But you had him strip first. 

So now here he was sitting with you on his waist, his cock close to being inside, but you just let him have it between your thighs.

“Which color?” You ignore the behavior, and show him a few bottles. Celestial blue, devildom red, starry black, and Asmodeus rose pink. The brother gifted you the bottle when he was proud of how it turned out. You decide to put that one away for when you play with him during the day tomorrow.

“The red..” He notes the dark cherry color in the bottle and likes how it looks when you have it on. You give him a small smirk, you put the black and pink away fully but keep the red and blue. 

You give Lucifer some attention, carding fingers through his dark hair earning a hum of gratitude for the petting. He leans his head even into your hand for more. You retreat your hand when you feel he has had enough, and shift a bit to cross your legs at the ankle leaning over the table to grab two of the toys you had selected for your demon.

“Dear...” His attempt to persuade you not to use the cock ring. 

“I’ll be good.” He comments after, and you cast a stare at him. You ignore the request in favor of fixing the silver band around the base of his dick till it fit just how it is suppose to. You give him a few teasing pumps feeling him come to life in your hand.

“I know you’ll be good. That’s why I’m putting it on.” You tug up the other item you had on the table, and now his eyes plead you for mercy. A bullet vibrator, you switch it on and rub it along his shaft. You feel him shudder underneath you at the sensation washing over him. You attach it with a strip of silk to tie it in place.

“Tch...” You then proceed to set about your earlier task, to paint your nails two different colors. You selected the celestial blue for your left hand, and the devildom red for your right. The slow process of you dabbing the brush on your nails. It is always Lucifer’s impatience that gets him.

“Don’t wiggle around so much, I’ll mess up, and I’ll have to start all over. And you do not have permission to cum until I am done.” You shoot him a firm glare at the end for him to know you’re serious. He jolts a little under how the calm demeanor you present there is that edge. What drew him to you.

“Understood..” He tries not to focus on the bullet, he does lick his lips at how wonderful it feels when you shift and it presses against the underside of his tip.

“Understood what?” You look at the first nail on your left hand and hold it to him.

“Understood mistress!” He corrects himself, and you reward him for it.

“Blow on it please. To help dry it faster.” He does, he blows a gentle hot breath, while you use your free hand to stroke the head of his erection. Soft gasps escape him and you feel the hot twitch in your hand. You move the bullet away from the tip, instead focusing it down along his shaft nestling it close you the ring at the base.

Once situated again you repeat the manner of painting each nail, and having Lucifer help dry them. By the time you were done with your left hand, you can see his eyes glossy for wanting to cum, but he remains steadfast to avoid disappointing you.

For the good behavior you remove the ring for a bit, and with use of the bullet. You stroke him in full pumps, you press the toy directly to the head of his penis and hold it there watching him toss his head back to hold back.

“You can cum, I did say till I was finished with my nails. You’ve been so good, go ahead let it all out.” You announce he can cum, and it is music to his ears, he bucks hard into your hand when you pump him. He moves with enough to bounce you on his lap, you still had his dick nestled between your thighs adding to the sensation when you squeeze them.

“Thank you my mistress.” He remembers his manners, and closes his eyes as he cums on your hand, letting it spill out on it and it hits the lace of your panties when you squeeze your legs for him.

“Hmm... what a mess you made... you were really pent up, weren’t you?” You laugh as you let your fingers smear the cum collected at the tip around the head. You glance over to Lucifer who stares at you with a hot glare.

“It’s hard not to be when you teased me all day, and even now.” He looks to you for mercy, and you almost give in.

“Well.... you deserved it for being jealous of Simeon. It was his day to spend time with me. Which is why.” You hold up the bottle of Celestial blue polish.

“I chose this color along with yours. You can’t be selfish when I try to make it fair with all of you.” You chide him as you begin to stroke him again. Working him into arousal once more. You catch the slight guilty look on his face, then smile at him.

“I forgive you though, but you’ll of course have to earn your treats tonight.” Lucifer lifts his gaze to your eyes and tilts his head in that manner when you are alone with him.

“I apologize for it... I shouldn’t be jealous. That feels nice... your thumb...” You focus your thumb at the underside of the glands. You needed him hard for the next part you wanted to do with him. 

“Apology accepted, tomorrow night though, we’ll have him with us.” You inform him and he accepts the conditions. Once he agreed to it, you lean over him to give him a full kiss to his lips. Lucifer returns it, and sighs into the kiss when your free hand scratches through his black hair. You kiss him for a bit, letting him feel good and loved again before you continued teasing your demon.

Lucifer sees you raise up and move so you could please him for a bit. You press a kiss to the head of his dick, leaving a lipstick mark there. The kind you use is more than safe for internal use. You place loving kisses along his shaft to help further rouse him, even taking him into your mouth to suck on leaving a dark red ring around his base.

You then raise off of him and move enough to tug the opening of the crotch to your pussy and he watches as you guide his dick inside. He sighs in bliss over feeling your slick heat. You admit he is always a struggle to fit with how wide the girth was, but you manage it.

Once you are fully seated on him, you purr as you wiggle a little bit till you are comfortable sitting on him with him deep. You then cross your legs again how you had them earlier and half lean over the table to do your other hand now.

“Dear.... “ You hear to your side, and glance over to Lucifer eying you, wondering if you are seriously doing this to him again. 

“Luci?” You chime happily, opening the bottle of the dark red polish and begin to swish the brush inside to ready it for applying.

“What are you doing?” He questions, he knows the answer from your eyes.

“Painting my nails, didn’t think I’d leave them half done till you are satisfied did you? That’ll take all night.” You sigh in that faux tone, and he glares about it. You tease him with a squeeze of your walls, and subtle rocking motion to grind against his waist. The angle had him right at that sweet spot, and you let out your own moan.

“I can’t wait to play with both of you tomorrow. I promised Asmodeus during the day, but I can’t wait for the evening with both of my angels.” You are excited that you wiggle on Lucifer’s lap enough to move up and down his shaft. He aches as you cock-warm him. He wanted to have you plead him for mercy, he supposes that will be the weekend when you shift roles with everyone.

“Dear... if you bounce like that... I’ll end up cumming too soon...” He knows the conditions like before, he’s not allowed to cum until you are done with your nails. You are a little slower on applying the red coat this time. 

“That sounds like a you problem. Hold back. You’re also forgetting something.” You tease him, as you grind and roll your hips to feel him inside. His head lolled back on the armrest of the couch as you ride him this way. You are careful as you finish applying the polish and have him blow on it till it dries enough.

“Dear... I mean mistress! Please show mercy on me.” You praise him for remembering the title, and push harder onto him, lifting a bit higher to fully have him thrust inside. The roll of your waist on his makes you feel incredible.

“My breasts.. grab them.” You order him, and he does without hesitating, his hands cupping and squeezing as he squeezes at your nipples through the fabric of the bra.

“Mistress.. may I cum inside? and sit up?” He asks you against your ear letting a hot breath tickle against your neck.

“Yes... you earned it.” Lucifer sits up and wraps his arms around you from behind. He shoves the table away to not ruin the polish sitting on it, and bucks his hips with yours. You match his movement and push down against his thrusts.

Lucifer moves to lift your legs at the back of your knees and  holds them as he thrusts up into you creating an angle to work with. You raise your arms to hook behind his head as he nestles it at the back of yours. You bite your lip now that he has you in his grasp, you push down to meet every hard thrust he makes up.

A few more thrusts, you avoid biting your lip, instead you turn to kiss him and he meets you, knowing more of the lipstick will be smeared. A stray hand of Lucifer’s leaves your leg, letting it loop over his knee so he can play with your clit rubbing it as he hits full inside you.

You shudder in  need, allowing Lucifer to pick up the discarded bullet to press it in circles to the nub to encourage you to cum with him. You do, in a shout of his name and breathed sigh, you cum hard for Lucifer letting him make you squirt for it. 

Lucifer plants a bite on your shoulder as he buries deep into you, his cum pouring into you. You feel him push your hips down to sink every inch of him into you prolonging the feel of your orgasm, and you sink back into his arms.

“Now you are the one making a mess dear..” You feel a playful bite on your shoulder and more along your arm.

“Like this room would stay clean with both of us in here.” He laughs at your retort, and agrees. He doesn’t mind sharing with Simeon if it means he gets to have a second turn with you during the week.