#how did i figure this out you ask?? well i was very confused as to why songs i didnt add kept coming up on my playlists!!!

[kaq3yma]

BEEP BEEP! sakura haruka.

syn: it is your first date with him, how did it go? it was alright... but did you expect it to buzz? no.

୨୧ qeena's brief note: elloo, anouncing a (kinda) new theme with a sakura haruka scribble yippieee >w< i know the theme lowk similar to my old one as it still a pink&green theme but hey, can't help the fact im a hardcore soft pink and pale green girlie (•؎ •) i have this idea based off this one tweet meme i saw couple months prior (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) sorrryyy but i can't remember the exact account but i think yall know shskssks anyway, let me know what you guys think about this scribble & the new theme, will appreciate all ur kind words <3 that's all, thank you, i love you, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated and happy reading xoxo 🍡

. . . imagine you're on a date, on your very, very first date with a guy you're oh-so in love with, Sakura Haruka. The date went smoothly, he pick you up at your meeting spot, Kotoha's diner, and after that you two ate together. You get to browse all over town, trying dishes and stroll around. It's indeed a fun day.

However, the dual-colored hair boy still can't help but shy away to your touch. You don't mind that he don't want to hug, heck, even pecks, but you wish at least he don't mind holding hands, cling your arm around him or even be at a close proximity.

The date turn sour almost drastically when you subconsciously pull his arm out of excitement because you saw a familiar ice cream van stall, one you'd used to buy but he pull his hand away, and instead tucking it in his pocket.

The entire hour after the incident was a confused Sakura (try to) cheer you up but failed miserably and the date happened to end quickly as time flies. Sakura walk you home, taking short strides behind your almost-slouched figure upfront. His face burn in embarrassment and confusion, not knowing how to act, what to do and what to say.

"... I—"

"We're here." The sudden spoke of words cause him to halt his words into half, poor boy is bewildered because he thought he have more time with you until you both arrived at your home, well, you both did arrived quicker than his (pea) brain can comprehend.

"I'll see you tomorrow, good bye—" Someone can ask previous Sakura if he ever expect this Sakura to do something unexpected, so unexpected he shocked both himself and you and he'd say no but yes, it somehow is happening.

He lean down, almost uncharacteristically to close the gap between you two and seal the night with a kiss, short enough yet still manage to pull your breath away.

"I—"

"Beep, beep. Abnormal heart rate detected." His face almost explode into thousands (millions) shades of red.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hate You (Kidding)

Crowley & daughter!reader, Sam and Dean & witch!reader, a little Rowena & granddaughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: your dad abandoned you years ago, but what happens when he finds out you’re still alive?

A/N: just so no one gets confused about this, here’s the background—Crowley found out how powerful demon/human babies can be, so he tried to make one, only it didn’t go the way he planned—the baby (you) were born without powers, and so he abandoned you. (Just because I didn’t want to give this the exact same backstory as Crowley’s son)

The theft was not going well. Your grandmother had made it seem so easy—sneak into the bunker, grab the black spell book, and make it out fast.

She failed to mention the two professional hunters that lived there.

You hadn’t been dumb enough to assume it would be empty—there had to be a reason Rowena wasn’t going herself, after all; she was scared. But you weren’t ready for Sam and Dean Winchester.

They had you in their dungeon basement—which was super creepy—before you’d even managed to find the book, much less grab it.

“What were you looking for, kid? Who sent you here?” The shorter—but no less scary—one had his hands on the sides of your chair, and he was looming over you. You had no doubt that he was willing to hurt you—you did break into his very dangerous house, after all.

You kept quiet, still unsure what the best course of action was. If you told them about the book and Rowena, would they let you go and go after her?

Then again, you didn’t know anything about these guys—maybe once they got their information, they’d just kill you.

You decided to stay quiet.

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand on the arm of your chair, and you flinched. “I said—“

The man stopped yelling when the lights went out. They flickered back on a moment later, only this time they were red.

“Someone’s here,” the tall one said.

“I’ll go check.” The man in front of you pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and turned to leave, saying to the tall one “watch her.”

Then it was just you and the giant—who, surprisingly, seemed a little less scary. He was definitely intimidating, but he also had a sort of “I don’t hurt children” vibe about him.

“This will all be easier if you tell us what you were after,” he broke the silence.

“Right, because you’ll have a reason to keep me alive after I tell you everything,” you scoffed.

“We won’t have a reason to kill you, either,” Sam countered.

“And you need one?” You questioned.

“What makes you think we’d just kill you for no reason?” He asked.

“I mean I did break into your house, and you are hunters.” You shrugged as best you could with your hands cuffed behind you.

“I’m Sam,” the man said, crouching down so he was more on your level—he was trying to look less intimidating, which surprised you. “That other guy is my brother Dean. We are hunters, but we’re not gonna just kill you for no reason. We’re not like that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the door opening cut you off.

“Look who came for a visit.” Dean stepped into the room with a man trailing behind him. As soon as the man stepped into the light, every bit of air left your lungs.

“Didn’t know you had a visi—“ Crowley’s sentence froze halfway out of his mouth when he laid eyes on you.

Dean’s suspicious gaze picked up on the awkwardness instantly.

“You two know each other?”

Crowley gained his voice back first. “Used to. Not so much anymore.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” You found the strength to speak after you heard Crowley’s words. “You still look just as pathetic to me, father.”

“Father?” Dean choked. “Wait, that’s not possible.”

“I thought you were dead.” Crowley was now completely ignoring the Winchesters. “After…after that incident I figured the demons would’ve—“

“Incident?!” You all but screamed. “Incident? Is that what you call you abandoning me? Leaving me for dead? An incident?”

“I had no choice,” Crowley argued. “When the other demons found out you were powerless—“

“The other demons? It wasn’t about the other demons, it was about you! You used my mother to make yourself a half demon, and when I didn’t turn out to have any powers you threw me away. You wanted your demon friends to kill me.”

“No.” Crowley was brushing past Sam and Dean now, coming to stand directly in front of you. You squirmed in your chair, but you couldn’t get further away from him. “No I didn’t. I thought if I got rid of you, they’d have no reason to kill you and—“

“Don’t lie to me!” You cried out. “I’m not stupid! You may not have wanted me dead, but you sure didn’t abandon me to try to save me. You did it because I was useless to you. Pretending otherwise is just…it’s just pathetic.”

Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but he had nothing to say—he knew you were right.

“So you’re half demon with no powers?” Dean cut in. “Because I’ve met a half demon who could do anything he wanted just by thinking it.”

“Why do you think he wanted to make me?” You forced your gaze away from your father to look at Dean. “He wanted an all powerful being that was also fully dependent on him. Too bad for him, not all half demons are the same, and he got stuck with the powerless one.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here now,” Sam cut in.

You bit your lip. You should’ve known it would circle back to this.

“Look, we’re not gonna hurt you if you tell us,” Sam promised.

“Fine.” A sly smirk lifted onto your face as your eyes went back to your father. “I’m here to get a book. For my grandmother.”

Crowley was still choking on air while Sam and Dean shared a meaningful glance before turning back to you.

“Rowena? You’re working for the witch?” Dean’s reaction told you that he both knew Rowena and probably hated her.

“She’s the only reason I’m still alive,” you said. “When he—“ you were inclined your head towards Crowley “—left me behind to get killed by demons, she saved my life.”

“My mother knows you’re still alive and she never told me?” Crowley scoffed. “It’s just like her.”

“She didn’t tell you because I told her how much I hated you.” You glared at Crowley as you spoke. “She understood the feeling, and we had a mutual understanding. Anyway, she told me she would teach me to take out demons the way she can—“

“But let me guess—only if you steal a spell book from us and bring it to her,” Dean interrupted.

“She said it was the only way she’d be able to teach me,” you defended yourself.

“She lied,” Crowley butted in. “She always lies—she was using you to get that book.”

“Oh, right, because you’re so trustworthy,” you shot back. “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t think it’s a little strange that the first thing she does with you is send you to a place where you could get hurt, just to get something for her?” Sam argued. “You don’t think that that’s using you?”

You were quiet for a moment, and when you spoke again it was more subdued.

“I didn’t have any other choice. There are still demons out there who want me dead, and I’m totally and completely helpless.”

“You don’t have to be,” Crowley said. “I can help you.”

“Rowena may not be a saint, but I already know I can’t trust you,” you snapped. “I’m not looking to get abandoned again.”

“She had to know you’d get caught.” Sam seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else. “So why…”

The Winchesters seemed to come to a conclusion at the same time, sharing a moment of telepathic connection before they turned and ran out the door.

“Do they do that a lot?” You wondered.

“You have no idea,” Crowley huffed. “I suppose I should find out what’s wrong.”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” The sudden smirk on your face made Crowley nervous. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you fell for that whole ‘totally and completely helpless” thing.” As you spoke, Crowley saw a faint glow coming from your hands, which were still handcuffed behind you. After a moment, he heard a snapping sound, and suddenly both of your hands were free and you were standing up. “Do you really think Rowena sent me here with no knowledge of magic?”

With a single wave of your hand, you sent Crowley flying against the wall. He landed with a thud, and you stepped over his frame on your way out the door.

“See you soon, father.”

…

Rowena had escaped with the book by the time Sam and Dean got to the library—she had waited until everyone was in the dungeon to make her move—and by the time the boys got back to the dungeon, Crowley was on the floor and you were gone.

“Great,” Dean growled. “She tricked us. I hate witches!”

“For once,” Crowley groaned as he slowly sat up. “I agree with you.”

…

“The Winchesters.” Your nervous gaze met your grandmother’s as you watched her flip through the spell book. “It’s them, they caught up. What now?”

“We need to distract them long enough for me to get through this spell,” Rowena insisted. “I won’t even need the book anymore as long as I can get this spell done.”

“I’ll distract them.” You were halfway to the door when Rowena stopped you.

“No, you’re not strong enough, not like this.” The way your grandmother was staring you down made you nervous.

“Like this?” You asked.

The door blasting open after a swift kick from Dean Winchester seemed to make up Rowena’s mind.

“I’m sorry, dear girl, but it’s the only way,” she said. “Impetus be—“

“Not so fast, mother.” You father appeared out of nowhere just behind Rowena, and he snatched up the spell book she was holding and swung it at her—she went down without another word. “I’m the only one that gets to hurt my brat.”

You didn’t say anything—you were still shaking. “Impetus beastiarum”—that’s what Rowena had been trying to say. Your own grandmother was going to turn you into a rabid monster—and ultimately kill you—just so that she could get away.

“The book.” You flinched out of your daze when Sam Winchester brushed past you and held his hand out to your father.

“Of course, moose,” he answered. “What would I need with a witches book?” He passed it over without argument.

“Why did you save me?” You demanded, sidestepping the taller Winchester to get a good look at your father, who merely shrugged.

“I’m the only one that gets to kill you.”

…

The Winchesters, of course, wanted to grab you after the little incident, but you flung them against the wall with your powers—one of the few tricks your grandmother had managed to teach you, and currently your favorite—and left before they got the chance.

You didn’t see them or your father for several more months. When you saw Crowley again, you were running for your life.

Somehow word had gotten around that a great witch had a granddaughter; or maybe it was that the king of hell had a daughter—you didn’t know, and you didn’t care. All you knew was that an archangel was after you because of it, and you had tried to cut a deal with him.

It hadn’t worked.

Lucifer had wanted you because he thought you’d be useful, and when he found out you weren’t, he of course decided that killing you was proper punishment for wasting his time.

You were in the midst of running for your life when you saw your father.

He was chained to the floor like a dog, watching your exchange with the archangel with peaked interest.

“Conteram hoc cincinno,” you yelled as you ran—it worked, and the chains at Crowley’s wrists snapped; they were warded against demons, not witches.

The freeing of his prisoner was enough of a distraction to get Lucifer off your tail. By the time he remembered you, you were out the door, and when he tried to turn his attention back to Crowley, the demon had already teleported.

…

“What was that?”

You jumped in surprise when your father appeared next to you.

“An escape,” you huffed out.

“You saved me back there.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you demanded. Crowley just grinned at you.

“Maybe witches aren’t so bad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[littlemissaddict]

Assistant!Reader x John Price fluff

I've well and truly been drawn in by the tf141 men, this short drabble was inspired by my Friday at work and how I wished I had Price (or any of the 141 really) to comfort me...

Warnings: Mentions of periods, cramps, reader being in pain

Being Price’s assistant on base, her own little desk just outside his office. Greeting him every morning with a freshly brewed cup of tea for him and a wide smile. Today was no different, or so she tried to pretend it wasn’t except the smile was forced and didn't quite meet her eyes. Price, of course, noticed and made a point of asking if she was okay as he thanked her for the tea. She brushed him off assuring him she was fine as she left his office to go back to his desk.

She buried herself in her tasks for the morning, hoping that the distraction would take her mind off the cramps in her lower tummy. She was still hunched over her desk as Price left his office at around noon for his meeting with Laswell and she forced herself to sit upright as he stopped at her desk.

“Are you sure you’re okay, you can take the rest of the day if you need to” his worried eyes bore into hers as she once again brushed off his concerns, unsure of how to broach the subject with her boss as it didn’t feel right coming out with ‘Oh you know it happens every month, I’ll get over it’ so instead she settled on an appreciative smile as she waved him off to his meeting.

He’d been gone around half an hour where the pain seemed to steadily increase and she almost regretted not taking Price up on his offer to take the rest of the day. Instead she rummaged through her bag in search of some painkillers, anything to take the edge off of the pain, quickly downing them with the water she always carried with her. Dropping her head down against the desk as she wrapped her arms around her tummy, she figured she’d be safe like this until the tablets kicked in as everyone on base was probably down at the mess hall for lunch until Johnny’s voice came around the corner.

Sitting up quickly to avoid being caught in the awkward position she could tell by his face, the same worried look that Price had given her earlier, that she’d been caught.

“Ya okay Bonnie? D’ya need me to grab the Capt’n or a medic?” he asked cautiously, his movements slow and his voice soft as if worried she’d startle like a wild animal.

“Johnny I’m fine, please-” she grimaced, gritting her teeth as another cramp hit her, “Please just leave me be” she all but pleaded with him. Thanking whatever higher being there was that he’d gone without fuss as she resumed her earlier position.

Little did she know Johnny had gone straight to Price, sprinting through the hallways looking like a madman as he tried to find him. When he did, he skidded to a stop in front of a confused Price and a very unimpressed Laswell. “Ya bird needs ya” he panted, ridiculously out of breath from the chase, it'd be almost comical for a trained soldier if he wasn’t so worried.

Price didn’t even stop to ask where she was or even correct Soap for his comment of her being his, just headed in the direction of his office as he figured she wouldn’t have left her desk. He knew she was a stubborn one but not when it came to her health, now though she was going to listen to him even if it meant he had to stay with her until she was better.

She hadn’t even heard Price come back, not until he was right there, scooping her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing even despite her protests. He headed carefully into his office, kicking the door shut behind him before sitting on the old couch in the corner of the room and bringing her down with him. She sat across his lap, one of his hands gently rubbing across her lower back as the other rested on her knees.

“Now I know you said you're fine but tell me, what’s wrong?” he hums, his chin resting on her shoulder as his hands continue to gently rub back and forth against her skin.

As strange as it feels to be sitting like this in her bosses lap, to have his hands against her skin and even just to be this close to him, she can’t help the way her body relaxes against him, finding comfort in the warmth of his body that has even managed to help her cramps subside to a dull ache. Or maybe the painkillers have kicked in she doesn’t know but it feels good not to have the constant pain anymore.

The hand that’s still resting against her knees squeezes softly in silent encouragement for her to speak as she remembers he asked her a question. “It’s nothing really, just the perks of being a woman” she mumbles in hopes he gets the gist of what she was trying to say without her having to have a full blown conversation about periods with him, not that there would be anything wrong with that she just doesn’t have the energy for it at the moment.

He nods in silent understanding, slowly moving his hand from her knees to her tummy as he carries on the gentle movement there in hopes that it will help ease her pain. Judging by the way her body somehow relaxes further into him and her head drops to rest against his shoulder he figures it does as she mumbles out a soft thank you. As she falls asleep against him Price plans to put together an emergency pack to keep in his office just in case she ever need anything, pain killers, pads and tampons (he plans to ask some of the female medics the most popular types to get just so he’s covered all bases), heat packs, chocolates (and if his team ever find them, they have a habit of getting into places they shouldn’t, he’ll make it clear that they are none of their business and are specifically for her and whoever disobeys him will be running laps until they drop) and whatever else he can come up with that will make it easier for her.

[otrtbs]

Hi I hope you're doing well 🌷

I had a question. I'm totally asking out of pure curiosity, it's not a criticism or anything of the sort.

In ahb (this masterpiece of yours) Sirius's favorite painting is Degas' Dancers.

I wanted to know if you knew the background of this painting and if making it Sirius' favorite was a deliberate choice or if you had no idea at all.

Because the Ballerinas in Opera Garnier in Paris were all really young and mostly, they were poor. The dancers were often their family's hope to crawl out of misery.

The audience was full of men.

In fact, the sad flip side was that there was a whole prostitution network behind the scene. With these young girls. Men could pay for backstage access to watch ballerinas change and sometimes rape them.

So Degas was a big customer.

That's how he painted the dancers and most of his works.

That's again how he sculpted the ballerina, her tutu was added meaning the 14 year old girl was posing nude.

Degas is also suspected of being Jack the Ripper, there are a certain number of credible leads and potential evidences.

That's why I was wondering if you knew.

Since there is this whole chapter where they insult Picasso (as they should) I found it strange that Degas being a known major p*do did not receive the same treatment.

Ps: I'm french, I don't know if I made any mistakes writing this, if I have please excuse me I tried my best 🙏

Okay hi, hello! I am doing well and I hope you are as well! You have unlocked Art Historian Thesis Nat, so I am going to put an extremely lengthy post under the cut, I'm so sorry (this is literally my area of study,,, i fear i am incapable of being brief about this)

I do want to clarify that right off the bat, I don't necessarily think many of these art historical figures are "good people". Like none of them are the best, most moral, upstanding citizens you should model your life after (but they're also dead sooooo). But I also understand that I did take some time in my fanfiction to make my hatred for Picasso very clear, and so I can also understand the confusion in not extending that same hatred towards Degas. But there are a few reasons for that, that I'll try to explain below!

The direct historical documentation of Pablo Picasso's violence towards the women in his life is vast and damning. If you want particularly good insight into his violence and abuse, then I recommend reading Marina Picasso's (Picasso's granddaughter) memoir titled: Picasso: My Grandfather. I also recommend Françoise Gilot's (romantic partner of Picasso) books, Life with Picasso and Picasso and Matisse. It is through the memories of the people who loved Picasso and who loved him in turn, that we hear of his sadistic nature that drove his lovers to suicide and we get personal letters that he wrote to Gilot in which he says things like "Dora, for me, was always a weeping woman… And it’s important, because women are suffering machines" and "For me there are only two kinds of women: goddesses and doormats." His granddaughter has this to say about him: “He submitted [women] to his animal sexuality, tamed them, bewitched them, ingested them, and crushed them onto his canvas. After he had spent many nights extracting their essence, once they were bled dry, he would dispose of them.” And Gilot says: "I am the only one to not have been sacrificed to the sacred monster(…) and is alive to tell the tale. He was a wonderful person to be with, it was like fireworks, amazingly creative, so intelligent and seductive(…) but he was also very cruel, sadistic and ruthless with others and with himself (…) It was the greatest love of my life, but you have to protect yourself (…) The others did not, they clung to the powerful minotaur and paid a very high price."

Why this matters: The evidence for Degas being so virulently misogynistic and cruel towards women is extremely less substantial and more speculative in nature.

Degas being Jack the Ripper. Degas being Jack the Ripper started off as a tiktok theory posed in early 2024, (though you can find an article as early as 2004 written by The Guardian's art critic here) and while fun to think about and speculate, it isn't true. August and September and November of 1888 is when the Jack the Ripper crimes were committed in London and Degas was in the South of France at that time receiving medical treatment because he was in extremely poor health. (Which you can find in The Letters of Edgar Degas edited by Theodore Reff (I'm sure there's. free PDF version out there somewhere)). Also, self-admittedly speculative, but Degas didn't visit the East-End of London when he did make his excursions to London because he was classist 😭. So, it would be odd for him to know the ins and outs of the streets where the murders took place. And also he had failing eyesight starting at 36, so the odds of him being Jack the Ripper are extremely slim.

The Ballerinas Yes, while it is true that the ballerina's were often subject to horrific conditions and were prostitutes for the "wealthy" patrons of the opera house, this does not mean that Degas partook in that. in fact, most historical documentation surmises he didn't. Degas considered himself a "realist" painter rather than an impressionist painter, wishing to document "real life" in all of its ugliness, beauty and unstylized truth. Therefore his primary concern was documenting the opera house and ballet in all of the moments, not just when the girls were dancing on stage. And in many of his paintings, Degas captures the opera patronsn in his ballerina paintings as lurkers behind the stage curtains as sinister black shadows, or as men predatorily watching in nice suits (e.g. Ballet, 1876 and The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage (1874)). But Degas himself, was NEVER a ballerina patron, he is even quoted as saying "People call me the painter of dancing girls. It has never occurred to them that my chief interest in dancers lies in rendering movement...". (now this is not because Degas was morally outraged at what was happening to the ballerina's, but because he viewed the men abusing the girls as committing a sin against God by sleeping with prostitutes). But while Degas had access to backstage, he was never a customer. And in fact, Degas is a notorious, well-documented celibate. This is because Degas believed sleeping with women would make him lose his special painting ability. No lie. Here's a direct quote from Vincent Van Gogh in his a letter to his brother Theo about the artist: "Degas lives like a little lawyer and does not like women, for he knows that if liked them and went to bed with them, he would become intellectually diseased and would no longer be able to paint." Degas was also known to reject ballerina's advances as well (again, fearing women would take away his magic painting power).

Feelings towards women By all accounts, Degas friends describe him as being reclusive towards women to being jovial with them, but always kind to them outside of a working environment. He even developed friendships with his fellow contemporary women painters. In a working environment, Degas was obsessed with perfection, demanding ballerinas contort their bodies in painful positions, and making them hold those positions for hours at a time. By all accounts, this was not because he hated them, but was obsessed with capturing their movements, the limitations of the human body, and he demanded perfection from himself. (x x x) (i.e. his obsession for his work and drive for perfection as a painter made him demanding and harsh towards his subjects, not his pure hatred of women).

Conclusions: So by many accounts, Degas was not particularly fond of women, and had little regard for his dancers. But the claims that he must have slept with the ballerina's and been a patron/customer "because that's what all men did back then" are not backed by any evidence. only evidence to the contrary. I went in on Picasso because those that were close to him have written first-hand accounts of his monstrocity. This is not the case with Degas. So, while I didn't tear him down like I did Picasso, I wasn't lauding him as a saint either. I highly recommend reading the article called Degas's Misogyny by Norma Broude which details the ways in which modern times have run away with this idea of Degas being a sadistic woman-hater and how we've gotten to this point. Anyway, TLDR; I was aware of the dark "underside" of the Paris Ballet at the time in which Degas was painting his works. Do I think he is Jack the Ripper and a man who participated in ballerina prostitution? No, not at all. At the end of the day, I am just an art history girl, telling anyone who will listen that there is not enough documentation on Degas to take these claims as 100% truth, or put that man up there with Picasso. Peace and Love! <3

[svt-rosalie]

hi!! i was just wondering if you could go more in depth about yoongi and rosie’s relationship? they are such a sweet sibling duo and i’d love to read more about them!

. . . ♡ YOOJI ! ? 🐡 TIMELINE ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ relationships! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

you're in the first sentence of this

non-stopping page, my brightest dream

rainbow, nct dream

2013-2014 / Where It All Started.

Rosalie had attended a BTS fansign in 2013, when she got some free time after training

She loved meeting all the boys but her favorite was Yoongi

He was confused when she confessed that statement towards, yet she explained that his attitude and rapping skills drew her in and she’s excited to see what they become

She hoped they would make it big and all their dreams would come true

Rosie also confessed that she was training too at Pledis and hoped one day he could see her on stage and cheer her on like she does him

Their interaction was short but memorable

Yoongi spoke about her to his company and asked if they could get in contact with hers to see if it would be allowed for her to visit back and forth for training purposes

Pledis was skeptical, not wanting a trainee of theirs to get into a scandal before they even made a debut, but as long as their meetings were supervised then it was fine

(As if a 13 year old girl is thinking of anything other then school and her training?? Shut the fuck up Pledis)

The big brother roll set in very quickly for Yoongi

The two would spend time together with Yoongi teaching her skills with writing music and helping her rap even though she knew she wanted to be a singer

Knowing how to rap wasn’t a bad skill, as Yoongi would say

Every single time they would work together Rosalie took in every word Yoongi said like he hung the moon in the sky

Again — Rosalie was a fan of Yoongi and all the other members of BTS. So, it was crazy for her to be in the same room as the boy, gaining tips and tricks from him even though he was still a rookie

She just knew though that he and his member would be something one day, and she’d be right their supporting them!

2015-2018 / Debut, and More

After months of training and putting her blood, sweat and tears into everything that she does

Rosalie finally debuts

She hadn’t told a single soul that her groups first music video would be out on May 26 that year

Not even Yoongi, it was suppose to be a surprise

And surprised he was

Yoongi didn’t find out until Seventeen had a stage on the same day as BTS at the same place ( author note, i know run by bts was released in april 2015 so i feel like their schedules might have overlap but im not sure, so we are going to pretend they did!)

BTS has been busy that year, changing their concept and figuring out what said group was going to be with their newest comeback ‘Run’ — so Yoongi didn’t really have the chance to ask Rosalie many questions other then

‘How are you doing?’ ‘Are you eating correctly?’ ‘Is anyone being mean to you?’ ect ect

So it definitely threw the older boy off when the (at the time) 5’6 girl comes running at him and yelling “I debuted! I debuted! Aren’t you happy?”

Yoongi was very excited for her even if he didn’t show it well

Rosie knew though

She knew that he was proud and little scared for her as well in his eyes.

Eyes tell.

Yoongi and Rosie cheered each other on silently and behind the scenes

The older boy would send her flowers and words of encouragement when she had a showcase she’s was nervous to perform for or when she needed some uplifting words

Rosalie would show him pictures of her pulling his photos cards and would subtly promote BTS whenever she could.

The kpop community found out of their friendship when Yoongi released his solo mixtape under the name Agust D and they had a collab named ‘So Far Away’

Fans were surprised but at the same time not really that surprised, if that makes sense?

Everyone saw the subtly of their friendship, a senior and junior.

But it was more of older brother and younger sister.

Yoongi even though he would encourage her and give her advice, he still teased her.

They took the world by storm again when posting a photo together on BTS twitter with the caption “annoying little sister.”

Since 2017 they’ve became known to the world as the nations favorite siblings

Even though they aren’t related!

2020-Present / A Lifetime Friendship

The continued to have a strong bond throughout the years

They released many collabs together such as the song Eight on Rosalie’s first solo album, People Pt.2 on Yoongi’s Second mixtape

The public loved and hold on to every interaction they have

Rosalie’s parents think of Yoongi as a son they dreamed for

Yes, they love their two daughters but having son wouldn’t be so bad

At least that’s what Rosie’s mother says every time the older boy visits

Rosalie calls Yoongi any chance she gets

You know how their are some girls that call their mom or dad when they are in the car or getting ready, that’s Rosalie with Yoongi

Constantly.

The amount of youtube complications made for Yoongi and Rosie’s friendship

Clips resurface every year such as . . .

A clip from one of Rosie’s vlog of her and Yoongi going strawberry picking and then Rosie forcing the boy to bake a strawberry cake from the fruit they picked that day

Or Yoongi being recorded supporting Rosie at her Solo debut showcase in Seoul

Clips of Rosalie’s collection go BTS album collection right next to her SEVENTEEN ones, she likes to show off the photo cards she collect

(She’s one of us guys)

The two have never argued, disagreements yes, but they never get angry with each other

Rosalie is so happy she has someone like Yoongi in her life and Yoongi feels the exact same.

Twin flames, the two will stick by each others side till the very end

author note — this sucks, i’m sorry

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @vlbi @iamawkwardandshy

[bmpmp3]

[knife-dad]

Spotify didn't just change the like button from a heart symbol to a plus symbol!!! They also made it so it automatically adds that song to whatever playlist you last listened to instead of the liked songs list!!!! You have to manually go and change it to the right list every time!!!! Why!!!!!

[rileyslibrary]

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC When You Are Suddenly Dating a Princess

This prompt is a variation of good!GIW AU (read here), but that's an excuse because I just wanted badass Jasmine Fenton and her good boy Jason Todd.

"Jason?"

The voice catches him off-guard. Not because he doesn't know it, no, quite on the opposite - he knows that voice very well, he's just heard it this morning when his beautiful girlfriend kissed him on the cheek and left for work.

It's just that he didn't expect to hear it at a closed auction full of magic artifacts, two states away from Gotham, and in a room full of rich-ass people from all around the world.

He turns around.

Jazz is looking at him with an expression of pleasant surprise, black off-shoulder silk dress with teal accents draping her figure all the way down to the floor - it's kind of reminiscent of Greek togas, with high waist and lots of folds on the skirt. It also makes his girlfriend look even taller than she is, which, Jason is fairly certain, was intentional.

She is also wearing a necklace on her neck, and just by one look at it, Jason knows that it costs at least five times more than the apartment they live in.

"Jazz?" He breathes out, astonished, but then catches himself and puts on a smile, "You look stunning." This is not the time to argue or ask questions; he is on a mission. And it's a time sensitive one, so no matter how curious he is, it can wait till later. They do live together, after all.

"Thank you," the girl smiles, and then briefly turns her head to a tall man in a very expensive dark blue suit standing beside her, "If you excuse me," she nods with an apologetic smile in the corner of her lips, and the man smiles back and takes a step away. Meanwhile, Jazz approaches Jason and casually places a hand on his elbow.

"Mind telling me what are you doing here?" She questions, and, wait, that was supposed to be his line! Jason blinks and shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor.

He can't exactly say, 'Constantine asked Batman for a favor because he knows the man is rich as fuck, so now Jason has to either buy or steal an ancient dagger for some bullshit magic ritual because he was the only one free tonight and John really needs that dagger and that ritual and Bruce owes him a favor, unfortunately'. Jazz doesn't know he is a vigilante/crime lord in redemption. She might suspect he is - that girl is perceptive on par with mind readers - but Jason never straightforwardly told her, and she never brought it up herself.

So, instead, he goes, "Sightseeing."

Jazz raises one eyebrow and pointedly looks around the dimly lit room full of magic users, rich collectors, socialites, and other shady individuals. Jason keeps smiling. Eventually, the redhead sighs and looks away, taking a step forward and guiding him through the auction at a leisurely pace.

"Looking for anything in particular?" She tries again, and Jason debates if he should answer her. On one hand, his head is buzzing with thousands of questions, starting with 'how did you even make it here when your shift at Arkham ended two hours ago' and finishing with 'to which group of shady individuals do you belong'. On the other hand, she clearly does belong here if her confident posture and outfit are taken into account.

And she is his girlfriend. Has been one for two years now. Maybe it's time to share some secrets.

"An obsidian knife with an owl on the handle," he finally says, and Jazz hums.

"A Tecpatl?" She clarifies, and Jason doesn't even feel that surprised by her sudden knowledge of Aztec culture. He nods. Jazz gives him a thoughtful glance, "And how important is it for you to have it?"

"To the point where I'm prepared to steal it if I have to," he laughs, but judging by the look on Jazz's face, she gets that he is only half-joking. She narrows her eyes at him:

"Is it for you, or for your, um, friends on the orbit?" She asks, briefly glancing up to the ceiling, and Jason feels very confused for a second there.

But then it hits him: she is talking about the Watchtower. She is implying the League.

Jason doesn't hold back a quiet curse, "Damn it, I should have hidden the guns better, shouldn't I?"

Jazz laughs softly, but it's a warm, affectionate laugh, "Well, yes, but you also shouldn't leave bloody bandages in the bathroom. And your helmet on the kitchen counter," she tells him, amusement lacing her voice, and Jason rubs his face with his free hand.

"Fuck," he mutters. And then, "Sorry."

Jazz waves her hand it the air, brushing his apology off, "Don't worry. I'm not in a place to blame you for having secrets, am I?" She muses, and, okay, fair. But before Jason can try to make her elaborate on the topic, she returns to her previous question, "So is it for a friend?"

The knife, right. Jason makes an annoyed face, scrunching his nose.

"Yeah. Bruce owes someone a favor, but he couldn't make it. Other stuff came up," he huffs. 'Other stuff' in question includes some off-world mission, so he really couldn't make it, but that doesn't make Jason any less mad about it.

"Let me guess, that 'someone' smells of cigarettes and liquor, has a British accent, and wears a trench coat," Jazz deadpans, and Jason stares at her with wide eyes.

"How- Are you sure you're not secretly a mind reader?" He asks. He knows for sure that Jazz doesn't have a meta-gene, but maybe she is a magic user? That would explain why and how she is even at the auction. Yet, the redhead laughs.

"No, sorry. Just met him a few times," she winces like she can smell the phantom smell of tobacco even when the mage is not here, "Can't say I like him, but asking someone to fetch him a Tecpatl seems like his style."

That only makes Jason even more inclined to believe his girlfriend is actually a magic user. But he doesn't get to ask because Jazz suddenly looks him in the face.

"Consider yourself in luck, by the way," she grins, "You won't have to steal it."

[part 2 ->]

[hello-eden]

Unexpected Hope

Damian has been disoriented all week. When he was told that stopping the ritual would have repercussions, he did not expect this. He had been dealing with the memories on his own but unfortunately he could not postpone this gala. 

He had been stopping a ritual that would end up summoning the being he now knows as Undergrowth. Damien does not regret that choice especially now that he has the context. Unfortunately it brought back his memories of Phantom.

He didn't quite understand they were memories for quite a while honestly he was a little bit concerned he got possessed. Thankfully after some compartmentalizing and a little bit of isolation, he figured out what was wrong. It did not help the confusion that comes with being a Midwestern teen and an assassin child put into one body but he has gotten the hang of it. 

Unfortunately Damian did not get long before he was forced back into the presence of his family. he had put off many public family events in the last few months so he was not able to get out of this event. he probably could have faked being sick but he'd much prefer to be able to pass off any of his symptoms from the memories as uncomfortableness being around strangers then be alone with his family. 

He's honestly very happy with his choice after he sees her. He doesn't recognize her at first with the dark auburn braided hair and the dress being something other than black but something made him turn around when he heard her rant.

She was giving a humanitarian speech to one of the investors. At first he got closer just to hear about it. It's always funny to see the faces of the imbeciles when people don't bow to their wishes.

Damien thought he finally found someone who was not a gold digger or a social climber. What made him really stop in his tracks was her body language. It was like a neon flashing sign opened up and said ‘hey this is Sam Mason’. 

Damien walked over with hope in his chest that he was not alone. she eventually seemed to get tired of the man or maybe he was able to scramble an excuse and walk away. he couldn't quite hear but by the time he walked over there it was only her.

 “you seem to be quite passionate,” Damian says, trying to start a conversation and figuring out how to ask the hard question.

 What is he exactly supposed to say? ‘Hey, are you my best friend for my last life or hey do you remember being on my ghost hero vigilante team that ended up with all of us being Undead royalty.’

The girl looks him over, probably trying to figure out what he wants. 

“Are you here to argue?” She says angrily, obviously ready for another fight.

“Your speech reminds me of someone, have you ever heard of Samantha Mason” Damien says trying to be nonchalant.

Her eyes seem to widen and look him over again.

“Where'd you hear that name.” She ordered.

“I've heard enough of her rants to be able to pick it out from a crowd.”

 “Danny,”  She said softly her grabbing his hands and squeezing as she looked around to make sure no one saw. “what how I thought it was the only one” Hope seemed to be filling her eyes. 

“Hi Sam” Damien Whispers just as softly just as glad he is not alone. 

Without another word Sam drags them to the stairway rushing up to the floor upstairs and trying to find a room that isn't being used. She eventually finds one two floors above the room they were using for the gala and pushes him into what looks like a break room.

 “How the hell did you get your memories” Sam demands 

“Why are you yelling at me? You have your memories too obviously if you are recognizing your name” Damian says shouting back at her. 

Sam always has a way of catching him off guard. She was happy just a minute ago. 

“yeah well I did something stupid which means I know you did something stupid” Sam said pointing her finger at him.

“ Well I may have accidentally stumbled upon a ritual for summoning an ancient and when I stopped it the backlash gave me my memories back. ” Damien stumbled over their words trying to justify themselves. "What stupid thing did you do?”

“The girls in my stupid Prep School in my grade went through a very witchy phase. there was a slumber party and they were stupid enough to actually find real magic. I had a cut on my hand earlier in the day and try to freak them out by adding a little bit of my blood. apparently my protection spell is literally stuck into my soul, so things went down” Sam says just as hesitantly as Damien

 “you have zero leg to stand on okay fine we were both stupid” 

They both sat there in silence for a while, mostly just basking in each other's presents realizing they weren't alone anymore.

“it's good to have you back," Damian says, giving her a weak smile and running his hands through his hair.

He'd been trained out of all of his nervous ticks but it probably makes her more comfortable to see him just as nervous as she is.

“it's good to see you too da- do you have the same name?” both of them don't seem to realize at the same time that they didn't get each other's names. 

“Damien” he says as he pulls his hand out of his hair and puts his hand out for a handshake. 

“Sarah” she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a shake.

the two of them shake their hand for a moment before they look at each other's eyes and burst out giggling. 

Damien's really glad he decided to not pretend to be sick.

[dreaisgrayte]

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful tayū and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.��� She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shred, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? He needed to find you or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs, and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cunt into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” You mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

[papercorgiworld]

No smoke, only love in the air

Mattheo and Theo imagine

When the guys notice that you don’t like their smoking habit they quit, but dealing with the withdrawal has your boyfriend constantly needy for a kiss. 

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long with this request. I still got few messages in my inbox. I will get to them I’m just short on inspiration, witch is new for me and kinda sad. I’m not super happy with this one but I wanted it finished and out here so I can have some inner peace. Anyways happy readings hopefully it’s not too bad and lots of love to all you darlings, may your week be filled with joy and good fictions. 💛

Mattheo 

You and your boyfriend join his friends at the astronomy tower. As soon Mattheo spots Theodore taking a drag from his cigarette he starts to crave one as well. Your boyfriend lets go of your hand. “Gimme.” Mattheo says reaching out his hand to his friend to ask for a kind donation of cigarettes, either because he was out of smokes or he had forgotten his pack somewhere. Theodore rolls his eyes and growls with his cigarette still between his lips. “Why are you so cheap, Riddle?” Theo complains while reaching in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. Mattheo smiles wickedly at his friend’s annoyance as he still gets what he wants. 

Finally, with a cigarette between his fingers Mattheo’s eyes wander back to you. He gently tugs you towards him as he leans against the side of the railing. You let yourself fall against his chest and stay there in his arms for a few seconds as he argues with Theodore about him not being cheap. You roll your eyes in disgust when Mattheo starts mumbling with the cigarette between his lips.

You turn away when he lights his smoke. “Come back, princess.” Mattheo whines, he wants you back in his arms. “Nah I got to study, see you later.” You kiss him on the cheek. When you’re out of sight Draco lets out a howling laugh. “Future Miss Riddle doesn’t like it when you smoke.” Blaise snorts. “I don’t blame her, you better not smoke around her she deserves better than to inhale that filth”. Mattheo stares at his cigarette as if he had just now figured out it wasn’t a healthy snack. Truth is, he never cared and it never mattered but now you were in his life, it did matter.

That evening he smoked his last cigarette and ordered Theodore to not give him any smokes from now on. 

However dedicated Mattheo was to his plan to quit, it didn’t make it any easier. His body craved the nicotine and nothing calmed him… except for you. Your presence was some magical cure to relax his mind and body. Which resulted in Mattheo constantly searching for you and more specifically your lips. A kiss before class. A kiss after class. Maybe during class when the teacher wasn’t paying attention. A quick kiss in the hallway when he passed you. It seemed innocent and still quite normal, but the longer your boyfriend stayed away from the cigarettes the crazier he got about your kisses. Crawling in between crowds to get to you as quickly as possible for just a small peck. Sneaking into your classes to kiss you and of course getting detention for doing so. It could be the middle of dinner and he would just come sit between you and your friends to kiss you.

You sit in the great half for dinner with Hermoine and Luna on either side of you when Mattheo shamelessly puts his leg between you and Luna. “Excuse me.” He announces, urging Luna to scoot aside, which she does looking a little more confused than she normally does. “Matt?” You ask, surprised by his sudden appearance. He slings his arm around you without a word, before pulling you in for a tender kiss. Your friends blink a few times and Mattheo pulls away, leaving your eyes twinkly from the loving kiss. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Granger. Odd girl from Ravenclaw.” Mattheo nods to your friends and gets up leaving you very confused as your boyfriend has again stolen a kiss from you at a most random moment. “How am I the odd one?” Luna asks, turning to her food after watching Mattheo leave. “I think it’s cute.” Hermione says, not sounding convincing at all.

***

“Something’s off and you have to tell me what… because it’s getting out of hand.” You demand an explanation after Mattheo had just tackled you in the hallway to pull you into him and kiss you like his life depended on it. “What?” He laughed, “I'm allowed to kiss you, I’m your boyfriend.” Ron snorts, unable to keep his opinion to himself making Mattheo glare at him. You grab Mattheo’s face forcing him to look at you. “Matt, I love that you kiss me any time and all the time, but you’re kinda overdoing it.” You whisper those last words hesitantly, but Mattheo hears and is slightly offended. His tongue moves over his bottom lips as he seems to drown in serious thoughts. “Matt, I love you, talk to me.” You urge him to let you in. He sighs and gives in, pulling you into a more quiet hallway.

“I quit smoking.” He breathes out, immediately glad to have confessed it, and you let out a soft laugh. “That’s great… but what does that have to do with you going on a kissing-spree?” Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his hair and chuckles. “I get nervous without my smokes and my body craves the nicotine and you calm me.” His voice turns into a whisper as he confesses how important you are to him. You quirk an eyebrow at him. “Mattheo Riddle, are you using me as a drug?” You quip, crossing your arms, but unable to hide your obvious amusement. “No! You’re more like my favourite healthy snack.” Mattheo leans in for his millionth kiss and you're happy to snake an arm around him and deepen it. As silly as it was, it wasn't the worst to be constantly kissed by your boyfriend. 

Theodore

Your boyfriend sees you happily skip towards him and he immediately drops his cigarette, quickly crushing it with his foot to keep it from burning further. “Hi.” You smile with a happy face. You lean towards him for a kiss and Theodore eagerly wraps his arms around your figure. “Hi.” He whispers suggestively, while drowning in your eyes, but just as your lips are about to touch you pull away a little. “Ugh, you smell like cigarettes.” Draco and Mattheo snicker in the background and Theo is about to snap at them when Luna calls you. “Hi, (y/n)! Are you joining us in Hogsmeade?” You nod her way and place your hand on Theo’s chest. “See you later.”

“No kiss?” Theodore whines as you leave and you just crunch your nose making it clear to him that it was the cigarette smell and taste that came in between the kiss. As soon as you’re out of sight, Theodore curses. “I’m gonna have to quit, aren’t I?” Enzo nods and Theodore growls, before reaching for his pack and throwing it at Mattheo. “Early Christmas gift?” Mattheo grins and Theodore rolls his eyes. “Just, don’t give it back no matter how I beg.” Mattheo’s grin grows and turns wicked. “This is going to be fun.

***

“One?” Theodore asks Mattheo who’s lounging in the slytherin common room. “One of these?” Mattheo shows the pack of smokes, shaking it before quickly putting it away, earning a loud groan of frustration from his friend and in turn making Mattheo snicker. Theo lets himself fall on the couch opposite of Mattheo. “I’m going insane.” He complains, but just then you walk in and take a seat on your boyfriend’s lap. You want to greet Theo but he doesn’t let you, instantly crashing his lips into yours. “Hello to you.” You giggle and he responds with another kiss. Maybe this not smoking can work out after all. When the kisses turn more heated, some of Theo’s friends start howling while Blaise just looks annoyed at how his quiet reading moment got disturbed. “For the love of hygiëne, go to your room, Theo.” Your boyfriend breaks the kiss to make eye contact and check up on your opinion of Blaise’s idea. Without saying a word you grab Theo’s tie, leading him to his room.

Ever since that day Theo knew he had cracked the code. Your kisses calm him, so when he feels an urge to smoke again after class he doesn’t go begging for a cigarette with Mattheo but turns to you. You are still packing your books when your boyfriend walks over, snatching one of your books. You laugh and hold your hand out for him to return it. “Only if you kiss me.” You chuckle but lean into him and with an intense passion he takes your breath away. You blink a few times when he finally pulls away. “Here’s your book. See you later.” Again he lips meet yours, this time for a short and sweet kiss, but it still leaves you watching your boyfriend in shock. Since when is he so needy?

***

“Look at that, look at that.” Mattheo mocks with a cigarette between his lips, making Enzo and Theo turn in the direction he’s looking. Theodore doesn’t say anything, but a low grunt escapes him as you and Potter come into view. “The man’s flirting with ya girl, Theo.” Mattheo pushes, making Theo instinctively reach for his pack of smokes in annoyance. “They’re just friends, have been since first year, they’re never going to be anything more.” Theo sighs when he remembers that he doesn’t smoke anymore. “There’s plenty of girls I’m friends with… that I’ve seen naked.” Enzo adds with a grinny smile. “You’re both shit friends, you know that.” Theo complains reaching for the cigarette hanging from Mattheo’s lips. “Na-ah.” Mattheo mumbles as he pushes Theo’s hands away. “You’re one of those good boyfriends that don’t smoke, remember.” Theodore rolls his eyes and lets his head fall a little as his eyes focus on you. Normally a smoke would calm him and help him deal with his annoying friends but now… the agitation crept through his whole body. “I need a kiss.” Theo blurred, making his friends eye him strangely. “I’ll not volunteer as tribute for that.” Mattheo jokes, earning an eye roll from an irritated Theo. After a second of watching you talk with Potter, Theo makes up his mind. “I need my fix.” Theo surrenders to his craving and walks over leaving a confused Mattheo and grinning Enzo. “Man’s addicted to his girl. That’s a new level of love.” 

“Nott.” Harry simply states. “Hi T-” Theodore ignores your friend and doesn’t even let you finish, but just hungerly crashes his lips onto yours. “Wha-? Theo! You can’t just kiss me.” Your boyfriend’s eyebrows knit together. “Of course I can and I just needed one small kiss… Or maybe just one more.” Before you can say anything his lips again passionately move against yours. “Now you can go about your day.” Theodore says and just grimly nods at Potter as he always does, before walking in the direction of the castle. You stand there perplexed and a little annoyed. “Slytherin boyfriends, right?” Harry sighs like he knows how frustrating it can be, making you furrow for a moment before shaking it off. “I need to get to the bottom of whatever he’s got going on.” Harry nods understandingly and you run after Theo.

“Were you jealous?” You ask as soon as you’re close enough to Theodore. He turns and immediately shakes his head. “I just really needed to kiss you.” He explains like it’s normal reasoning. “Theo, I sometimes really want to kiss you as well but I never do it so desperately and urgently as you’ve been kissing me the past few days. What’s gotten into you?” Theo sighs at your continuous pushing. “Fine.” He says reluctantly, giving in to you. “I quit smoking… but it’s not exactly been easy.” Your brain tries to see a link between smoking and kissing but it doesn’t make any sense to you and your eyes show your genuine confusion to Theo, who can’t help but smile a little. “Kissing you calms me and helps me stay away from cigarettes. If I could I would put you in my pocket so I could kiss you whenever I’m stressed out.” You chuckle at his adorable confession, but quickly focus on the most important part. “You quit smoking?” You close the space between him and you, and start playing with his tie. “Yeah. I did. I don’t want to miss a moment with you because I smell bad and you deserve the best version of me.” You have no words for him and just kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you against him by your hips. 

Walking in on your little make out, Blaise rolls his eyes. “Again? Can’t you two behave? You’re shocking the first years.” Theodore parts from you and licks his lips. “Can’t do that to those poor first years, can we?” You play along and shake your head. “No, we definitely should take this somewhere private.” Your suggestion causes a happy grin to tug on your boyfriend’s lips. Not smoking is definitely working out for me.

[maopll]

Helloooo!!!! really interesting event you have going on here :D . a couple pennies for my request?

Can I get a "Hot things they do" prompt with

HSR: Jing Yuan, Sunday, and Boothill Genshin: Neuvillete and Pantalone

Gn!Reader please and thank you <3

HOT THINGS THEY DO

⋆·˚ you swoon over and practically drool whenever he does something which you love to the moon and back. even the simplest of things has you feeling something burning and fluttering inside ...

note : anon you've got tastes. I don't know if there is anything particular I like that they do everything will have me folding over.

sfw // fluff a lil goofy, slight suggestive gn!reader

— ୨ JING YUAN ୧

His breathy laughter is the best of both worlds. Nothing compares to it. Although you are a big fan of his chuckle whenever he is in a tight spot or has it figured out, his laughter is still incomparable.

But he kind of disagrees with you on this since he would have approved it if it was his thighs. He knows how thick they are and how the strap around his upper thigh makes it look even more enticing. "Who says I don't like it?" you retort.

— ୨ SUNDAY ୧

Whenever he is in deep thought, he would leave his pen, cross his arms and would run his fingers through his hair. Most of the time his hair is prim and proper. But when he puffs his chest up in frustration , eyes squinting , and hair a little bit messy, you can confirm that you become like a victorian man seeing ankles.

"Is this the way you like it?" Sunday says a bit unsure as he is practically wearing something that looks diametrically opposite from what he wears. Shirt, jeans, jacket, cap and all the items that screams 'rock metal genre'.

"Stay still pretty boy I need a good picture for my wallpaper"

— ୨ BOOTHILL ୧

"Babe I find you really hot when you threaten people to kill them whenever they try being real mushy mushy with me"

"You muddle fudger I can't even curse them with the real scary words and you liked that?" Boothill stares at you bewildered. "Your synesthesia beacon working overtime and your hands pointing the gun at him as you threaten to do the wildest shit to him if he ever touches me is very very hot you wouldn't understand". He would usually comply with whatever you say but this time he truly thinks that you've got a few screws loose there. But maybe that's your charm and your 'hot thing'.

"Well if you find THAT hot then ..." he swifts you off your feet and places his hat onto your head "don't you like it when I do this hmm sweetie ?"

— ୨ NEUVILLETTE ୧

While the things or his actions are mostly adorable or gentlemanly, even he has his sides which would leave your heart beating fast and hard. But oh lord have mercy on you because when he would tie his hair messily to focus on his paperwork, you fold.

Neuvillette was about to sit down after he tied his hair in a ponytail, but you noticed his tied hair and without thinking you blurted out,

"Do it again"

"Do what again ?"

"Tie your hair again.. I wanna see..."

He obliged to your request like he usually does even though he was a little confused, but when he turned around to face you, you were blushing HARD and one of your hands was on your chin as if scrutinising his every movement and every flex of his muscles. Neuvillette just chuckled at your antics. "Like what you see dear?" "Very much..." you strided towards him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. No matter how many times you ask such silly requests of him, he will always fulfil them.

— ୨ PANTALONE ୧

You didn't know what captivated you to like pantalone and you wanted to find what was something he did that made you find it hot. Lo and behold you found it when he was threatening one of the fatui members.

Two new recruits were standing at esse in front of Pantalone, who was eyeing them from top to bottom. "So... cryogunner... what was the order?" The cryogunner, after swallowing down the lump in his throat with hesitation, replied, "s— sir ... we had to take down the owner of the illegal organisation–"

"And what was the result I received?" his voice cold and eyes piercing. His anger were visible in his eyes even though it did not reflect on his face. "Out of my sights right now the punishment that you two will receive for not abiding to the order will be not so savoury"

The two fatui scurried away after shouting a 'yes sir'. After they left, he removed his glasses and scrunched his face rubbing his temple. Looks like more work got added to his already pending list of tasks. His eyes were full of wrath and anger muttering archons know what

you chuckle "you know your face is doing things to me babe"

"dear I'm not in the mood—" but looking at your face has him rethinking his decision. You biting your lips and eyes dazed... hmm looks like you've found the way to relieve his stress then?

"It's going to be a rough day hm? dear"

[cutielando]

I don't usually request things but I saw that your request were open and that you're more of a fluff writer and thought this would be perfect for you. I'm not sure if you e written so.ething like this or not, so if you have feel free to ignore.

Lando Norris with a gf who always wears contacts and has to switch to her glasses for some reason but he didn't know she wore contacts (since they are a pretty new couple only a few months) and he thinks her glasses are so fucking adorable because they are kinda big and nerdy and now he always wants to see her in them

glasses | l.n.

my masterlist

You hated being blind.

Ever since you were little, you had been prescribed glasses because you couldn't see all that well. Of course, hoping you would be rid of them in a couple of years at most.

Oh, how wrong you had been.

There you were, in your 20s, still blind as fuck. But this time, nobody could really tell you needed glasses because you had opted for contacts instead.

That's the Y/N that Lando knew. Not the glasses, just the normal you.

You'd never actually told Lando about your vision problem, and he hadn't managed to figure anything out. You would put your contacts in as soon as you woke up and take them out before bed, all without Lando giving you a second thought.

But, unfortunately, your contacts era was going to come to an abrupt end.

You had scheduled a regular check-up with your optometrist, wanting to check things out as you usually did. But she seemed very concerned when she explained her findings to you.

"It looks like your eyes are very irritated because of the frequency with which you've been using your contacts, Y/N. I'm afraid you're going to have to switch to your eyeglasses for a while" those words had hit you like a ton of bricks.

You hated the way the glasses made you look, all big and round on your eyes like a nerd. You hated them, you hated even seeing them hidden away in your nightstand, and now you had to wear them?

Permanently?

Oh, boy.

Getting home to an empty apartment had never felt as good as it did in that moment.

Lando has been in the UK at the MTC for the last couple of days, and was supposed to be coming home in the evening. Plenty of time to think about what you were going to do when he got back and saw your glasses on the bridge of your nose.

You knew you were practically making a big deal out of nothing, but you couldn't help the thoughts swirling around in your mind.

How would Lando react? Would he love the glasses? Would he despise them because they made you less attractive or something? You couldn't have any of that, you loved him too much.

You sat on the couch, lost in your thoughts for what seemed like hours. The only thing that broke you out of your trance was the sound of keys jiggling in the lock and the door opening and closing.

"Babe, I'm home" Lando called out, just around the corner from the living room.

Your eyes widened, not realizing so much time had passed that Lando had already arrived home.

Any kind of plan you might have come up with in those few hours went out the window, now replaced with accepted defeat that in a few seconds, Lando would round the corner and come face to face with you.

Just as predicted, Lando entered the living room 5 seconds later, leaving his suitcase at the entrance while making his way to you.

"Hey" you said, your voice small as you timidly raised your head to look at him.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion at the sight of your glasses.

“What’s with the glasses?” he asked, chuckling as he inspected your face.

In all truth, he thought you looked adorable with them. But to you, his silence was the worst possible thing in that moment.

You sighed, resting your head in your hands. Seeing how beat up you seemed to be, Lando took a seat next to you on the couch and started rubbing your back.

“I can’t see all that well, have had a prescription ever since I was 12 and I’ve had contacts for years now. When I went to my optometrist this morning for a checkup, she told me my eyes are irritated because of how long I’ve worn contacts, so I have to wear my glasses for a while” you explained, your voice slightly muffled by your palms but clear enough for Lando to understand.

“Okay, and what’s wrong with them? They look hot on you, why do you look so sad?” he asked, making you look up at him in confusion.

“What do you mean they look hot? They are ugly, they make my face look big and I hate wearing them” you explained the problem, but nothing you were saying was phasing Lando in any way.

He smiled at you, his eyes lingering on your glasses for a couple of seconds before he started speaking.

“Baby, you look hot both with and without your glasses. I personally prefer you with them” he cooed as he held your face in his hands.

“But they make me look like a nerd” you pouted, making your expression even more adorable in his eyes.

Lando shook his head, standing firm on his statement.

“Y/N, I don’t care whether you wear glasses for the rest of our lives or not, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world in my eyes, even more so with them on your pretty face” he said, pecking your lips twice.

You sighed once you pulled away, your chest feeling much lighter now. The fear that you had been feeling since the morning wore off, relief settling in instead.

“Thanks” you said, biting your lip before leaning against his side, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder.

Thank God.

And so, ever since that day and for the remaining of your relationship, Lando made it his mission to show you just how much he loved those glasses on you.

Especially in bed ;)

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[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ──  ˗ˏˋ★ˎˊ˗ a random girl hitting on them !

it's just you. library.

mark. he's chuckling the whole time. “dude, i have a girlfriend.” your finger traces figures on his pectoral and he simply pulls you away caught in a raucous laugh. “doesn't seem like it. stop giggling, this is serious!” he stands upright and gets serious; all his features relax and now he looks stern, but it doesn't take long for another burst attack him when you lock eyes with him. “i almost got it, dude! sorry, baby, sorry for laughing too much. you know you're the only one.”

haechan. “leave me alone, woman.” he takes the role very seriously. he gives you annoyed sideways glances and even rolls his eyes. you try so hard not to burst out laughing when he looks at you in exasperation. “you're still here?” he's really good, you feel very rejected. his gaze softens when he sees you about to lose it, “did i do a good job?” you nod, causing him to smile and snuggle up close to you “can i get my kiss now?”

chenle. it's hard to get into the role when he looks at you condescendingly and disgusted. “is that the best you can do?” you whine, “i'm trying my best, stop looking at me like that!” he grimaces dramatically in despair, “this is my don't fuck with me face! do you want me to stare at them the way i stare at you?” he gets closer to your face to intimidate you a bit more, “sorry, i have a girlfriend, fuck off,” he says, then he kisses you.

jaemin. he's not complying. like at all. “you're cute.” you look at him with a mixture of stunned and flustered. “she's not cute. stop.” you hit him lightly, “can i get your number, bonbon?” you say, exaggerating every word. “yeah.” oh, god. he doesn't even try. “jaemin na...” he looks at you with eyes stripped of judgment and fondly. you cry sulky as he pulls you to him and gives you pecks. “sorry, what's the game again?”

jeno. “you're really hot.” he looks at you confused by what you said and you almost explode with an overdose of tenderness, “aw, my baby.” he catches you when you propel yourself towards him, smiling with narrowed eyes. “i'm so confused right now.” you nuzzle your cheek on his chest, “you were supposed to reject her,” you mention, “oh, i thought the game hadn't started because you usually say that to me a lot.” you're snatch away from him when he pushes you as he says dead serious, “sorry, i have a girlfriend.”

jisung. you should give him points because he's seriously trying not to laugh. he's so cartoonish at this point. “wait a minute.” he leaves the room as if he's in a movie and he's leaving the frame so he can laugh. “you're such a terrible actor,” you chime when it's the 5th time he leaves to giggle around the corner. “hey!” he returns with a finger pointing at a empty spot. “stop! i have a girlfriend.” you raise your eyebrows, kinda surprised. he proceeds to pull you close “how was it?” he asks, smiling. you can only nod. “and now, for the final act. a kiss!”

renjun. “well i can't start if you stare at me with those eyes.” you're amazed, “that's the point.” you see him weigh, “no, 'cause you look too pretty, i can't reject you. try tousling your hair!... and do a funny face.” you do as he says, but then he burst out laughing. “baby,” you whine. “my pretty clown. i don't like you! leave me alone!” he says it so seriously and sternly that you start to believe that you shouldn't have done all that and, he (like always when you come up with silly ideas) just wanted to play dumb with you.

[rafesslxt]

Love Potion ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ | Mattheo Riddle

summary: y/n thought she would smell something different while making Amortentia

warning: enemyxlover vibes, cursing, mattheo blushing for a second

note: shorter than usual but got this idea and had to write ( obviously there are other imagines like this so no not a new original idea i mean )

Together with my friends Harry, Ron and Hermione I walked to out next class potions. This year Professor Slughorn was teaching us and I really enjoyed what we learned so far.

Today we shared class with slytherin. Everyone got in and sat down, waiting for Professor to start.

" Good evening everyone, today you are going to learn how to make a love potion. The strongest to be exact. It is called Amortentia."

All the girl started giggling but I was distracted by a strong scent, something like mens cologne.

" Who can tell me something about it? " Professor Slughorn asked. Hermione‘s hand shot up into the air. " Yes, Miss Granger."

" Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Also Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what -"

" Yes yes yes Miss Granger, 10 points for gryffindor. And the rest of the students should figure the last point out by themselves, right?" Hermione nodded and looked at the example in front of her.

" All the ingredients are on your tables, you can either partner up or do the potion on your own. You have time till 10 minuten before the class ends. Have fun!" He clapped into his hands and everybody started.

Ron and Harry decided to do the potion on their own while Hermione and I decided to team up. It went really well until my nose was filled with this strong scent again. I looked around and the only person walking behind me was Riddle. I rolled my eyes at the thought of having his cologne in my nose.

" What is it with you? You seem so tense since we started class." Hermione asked while stirring the potion. " I have Riddles fucking strong cologne in my nose. This guy needs to start using less of it."

She knew about my hate towards him and everything he does. But I didn‘t started it, he did and I was never one to back down. So we tried to get on each other‘s nerves on every opportunity.

"Oops." i heard and felt a shoulder bumping into my side, almost knocking the potion over. I turned my back and saw Mattheo. " Wow, really mature. But what did I expect from you huh?" i snickered and turned back.

As everyone got ready, Professor Slughorn walked around the class and looked at eachs Amortentia.

" Very good ladys. May I take this for an example?" Hermione nodded proudly and we watched him putting it on the table in front of all of us.

" You all did a great job. Now I want you all to take a deep breath trough your nose and smell the potion in front of you." Everyone did as he said but again I couldn‘t smell anything but that stupid cologne.

"Y/n, why don‘t you tell me what you smell?" Professor Slughorn asked you smiling, pointing at the potion you and Hermione made. " I would love to professor, but I can only smell Mr. Riddle‘s cologne cause he apparently doesn‘t know when to stop spraying."

I gave Mattheo a dirty look but got confused really fast due to his confused look. What? No barking back?

" I don‘t wear any today, I rushed out of my common room cause I overslept." My eyebrows drew together, I didn‘t really understand why I would smell his cologne all class.

" Maybe If you take a step closer to the potion you can concentrate on the single ingredient you smell." Professor Slughorn suggested.

I did as he said and took a deep breath in again. " Um, I smell Sandlwood, bergamot and something like the deep ocean.. sea salt maybe."

I was in some kind of trance while smelling it. It was lovely, i felt so light and some goosebumbs formed on my body.

I looked up seeing Hermionie smiling. " What?" I whsipered. " Miss Granger, could you tell us the last fact for the Amortentia ?" Mr. Slughorn asked her.

" Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them." Attracts them? No no no..

I look at Mattheo, who‘s already smiling from head to toe. " Very good Miss Granger, now have a good day! And remember: Amortentia is a very dangerous potion! You should never underestimate it!"

We packed our stuff and left the class. " So what was that all about y/n? Smelling Mattheo? I mean do you really have a crush on that doucheba-" Ron startet but got interrupted shorty after " Yeah y/n, you have a little crush huh?“ Mattheo swung his arm around me, taking me away from my friends.

"What the fuck are you doing?" We rounded a corner and he stopped. " No playing around anymore little princess. Was that supposed to be a joke ?" I hope so too. " Because I smelled your fucking perfume the whole time too!"

" You - You did what?" I almost whispered, my hand flying onto my mouth. " I smelled you the whole time. Vanilla and something like strawberry.. fuck I wanted to devour you so bad." He came closer, pressing me against a wall, his chest against mine. "Tell me you don‘t feel the same, tell me I can go fuck myself and tell me to get my hands off of you."

I couldn‘t. He was right, I wanted to tell him to fuck off and to not touch me, but I simply couldn‘t. " Y/n.." he whsipered my name, coming closer with his face. Then it hit me, it has to be a joke.

I started laughing which he just answered with a confused look. " It is a joke right? You try to fuck with my head because I said I smelled you while smelling the potion. I smelled your cologne not you. Somebody else could wear it too."

" I‘m not joking y/n." " Prove it."

And from one second to another, my whole life changed. He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips again mine. Hard at first but the kiss got softer and passionate. I slowly kissed him back, putting my hands on his chest. He let my face go and put his hands on my hips, squeezing them a little bit.

Out of breath I broke the kiss, his lips red and swollen, smirking. "So you don‘t hate me huh?" I grinned. "Oh shut up." He smiled back at me and kissed me again.

—

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