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#i also read way too much about pit toilets
velaraffricate · 7 months
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the worldbuilder's disease will have you on the wikipedia page for Underpants checking the accuracy of a medieval-ish society wearing undergarments. yes btw they are fucking ancient obviously.
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sehtoast · 6 months
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Hii! Id like a request!
Could you perhaps do a scenario where the reader gets stranded at an airport (Perhaps with panic attack)?
I'm experiencing this currently and thinking about Homelander is helping, Somehow
i'm so sorry you had to go through that anon ❤️ homie has an odd way of making life's woes suck a little less. apologies that this took as long as it did (and also i've never been in an airport before so idk if this is even the right vibe adfkljdfk), but i hope it's still enjoyable and i hope your airport adventure ended happily.
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Oh, if you thought it couldn’t get worse, you were so wrong. 
Cancellations across the board, a raging snow storm outside, disgruntled people everywhere, and far too much noise for your overloaded senses.  This is what you get for flying out to go see a friend in the dead of winter.
It wasn’t like you could call an uber to the nearest hotel, either.  Pretty much nobody was going anywhere in this storm, and you’ve been here for hours now. God, you should’ve picked a morning flight, but you just haaaad to sleep in.
Eventually it started getting to you.
You’re alone, surrounded by angry people, in the middle of fuck knows where, with no guarantee of getting home or if your ticket is still going to be honored and–
You don’t even notice your breathing growing frantic until it’s overpowering and all you can do is hug your knees and try to stay calm–
You reach for your phone and send off a text to the one person who would maybe be awake at this hour.
God I’m fucking stuck here and I miss you and I don’t know what to do.
Your chest feels tight and your mouth is dry.  You hold your phone tight, cringing at the battery level.
7%.
You’d love to charge it, but the iPad parents are currently occupying every outlet in the area and if you hear one more child scream because they couldn’t watch their damn skibidi toilet videos–
It buzzes and you unlock it like a madman.
Told ya you should’ve flown air-Homelander.
You smile, warmth trickling in to fill your otherwise endless pit of anxiety.
It would’ve been too cold on my face :(  and you’d be carrying all my luggage.  Besides, I couldn't ask you to fly all this way.
The next response comes almost instantly.  Well, as instantly as it can with how slow he types.
Picky picky.  Where are you?
In the lounge-ish area.  On the floor, because I guess I picked the busiest airport in the world…
2%.  You’re almost ready to snag one of those outlets and suffer the blubbering.
Shucks, that’s a bummer.  
It’s not so–
You wince as your screen flickers, waves of sadness overtaking you in conjunction with that dreaded anxiety.  Gone is your only lifeline, and it hits you that you’ll have technically left him on read too.  You should’ve told him about your battery– fuck, fuck, fuck.
You hug your knees again and shove your useless earbuds in, hoping to dampen some of the noise.  It doesn’t work, and you can distinctly make out the sound of a man loudly demanding a full refund.
You try to imagine Homelander.  What tales would he have for you once you returned home?  How much trouble did he stir up while you were away?  Probably the usual, but… you were supposed to see him tomorrow morning when you got home.
God, that thought makes you ache for home even more.
You shut your eyes and attempt a nap.
You try and try to sleep to no avail.  Just when you think you might get a wink of rest, you hear audible gasps and shouting.  Your eyes shoot open, expecting the absolute worst, but all you see are two imposing sets of red boots.
“You forgot to text me back,” he says nonchalantly.  
Tears of joy bite at your eyes as you look up, and you all but launch yourself off the ground and into his arms.
“M’sorry,” you mumble against him.  “Battery died.”
“Mm, if you say so. I feel like this was all part of your elaborate plan to get me here.”  Homelander pulls away just slightly to look down at you, a twinkle of sympathy in his eyes- a very rare sight.  “Well, I know I can’t fly you home, because you’ll turn into a big popsicle, but… there is a hotel nearby and you do deserve a nice place to lay your head.”
Your heart feels so warm it could melt the blizzard outside.
“You just gotta tolerate a little cold.” He grins, winking at you.  “And air-Homelander doesn’t have delays.  No luggage fees either.”
You throw yourself back into the hug, squeezing him with all you’ve got.  
“You’re the best,” you whisper in his ear.
“Yeah, I know.”  He replies, uncaring of the spectacle you two must be.  “Now let’s get you cozy.”
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months
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The Rogue Prince and the Privy
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x f!reader (niece) Warnings: Crack fic. Incest, but honestly that's the least of your worries. Mentions of shitting and breaking wind. Sex on the toilet. Smut. Word count: ~750
Summary: Daemon feels amorous while using the privy.
Author's note: A request from my boo-bear @em-writes-stuff-sometimes that also doubles up as a belated birthday gift. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EM! This is a crack fic - please don't read if you are easily offended. Community labels are for cops. No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.
The call of her name echoing along the vast expanse of the corridor beckons her forth. Her uncle turned husband is summoning her and, as a dutiful wife should, she heeds his every command.
Following the sound of Daemon’s voice, her brow wrinkles in confusion when she reaches the privy.
Surely he cannot be calling to me from here?
“Kepa?” She asks with uncertainty. “Are you in there? Should I wait until you are finished?”
“No, no, sweetling,” comes Daemon’s voice from behind the closed wooden door, “you are fine to come in.”
She hesitates for a moment longer, but then reaches for the iron ring pull handle. He would not call her in if anything indecent were occurring.
Upon opening the door, the smell greets her first, causing her to take an involuntary step back, her eyes watering as she clasps a hand over her mouth to stifle her retching. The stench is ripe; a combination of the eggy scent she has only ever experienced before in the depths of the Dragon Pit, and the musk that skinned animals on hunts carry when they have been left out for too long in the sun.
Keeping a hand clasped firmly over nose and mouth, Daemon comes into view once her vision clears. He sits upon the privy, breeches around his ankles and a smug smile upon his face. Most shocking of all, however, is how proudly he grasps his hardened cock.
“Come, sit on my lap, sweet girl,” he coos to her, and her eyes widen in horror.
“B–but, Daemon, it…it smells in here,” she tries to protest.
He chuckles drily. “I know. I have been here for quite some time. Last night’s feast has been a tricky one to shift, so I require the aid of my lovely wife to aid in passing the time, while I pass this hog roast.”
Her hand falls away from her face, her jaw slackening in disbelief.
Surely he does not mean to couple with her while he defecates?
“You are shitting, I don’t want to,” she whines.
He keeps a firm hold of his erection, and narrows his eyes. “I saw you shit the bed while you were giving birth. I continue to sleep in that bed, to fuck you in it. How is this any different?”
“The sheets have been washed…” she says meekly, her gaze downcast. She knows she is fighting a losing battle. Daemon will have his way, he always does.
“It is a wife’s duty to obey her husband, especially when he is a Targaryen Prince,” he tells her matter of factly.
There it is. He has me bested. 
She sighs, lifting her skirts to remove her small clothes, before moving forward to straddle him. Her knees rest on the wooden bench either side of him, his ample backside pushed around the hole on which he sits.
Holding her breath, she tries not to think too much about what could possibly be coming out the back of him as she lowers herself onto him, wincing slightly at the stretch of his intrusion of her body.
He grabs forcefully at her hips, accelerating her movements as she bounces against him, and she is unsure of whether the grunts and groans that fan hotly against her ear are as a result of the pleasure he is taking from her body, or the relief of what he is forcing out of it.
She cringes when she hears something drop faintly into the opening beneath them, muffled by the sound of their intermingled panting and the slapping of her buttocks against his thighs.
Burying her face in his neck, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him for support as he continues to move her against him, until eventually the telltale pulsating of Daemon’s manhood inside of her alerts her to his rapidly approaching climax.
When he peaks it is with a long, drawn out groan, accompanied by a loud, rasping expulsion of air that echoes into the privy underneath him. She shudders in disgust at his sudden breaking of wind, feeling the warmth of his seed begin to drip out of her.
“There’s a good girl.” Daemon murmurs softly, lightly swatting her outer thigh. “Get yourself cleaned up and then you can come back and help me to do the same.”
She freezes in utter shock as his softening member slips from her.
He wants me to wipe his arse too.
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lokewolf-father · 2 years
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GWAR IN THE DUOVERSE OF ABSURDITY REVIEW! Part 1 of 2
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It's finally time for me to write about their newest comic/album, "Gwar in The Duoverse of Absurdity" and "The New Dark Ages"! As an avid reader and writer myself, I love concept albums the most, such as the ones put out by Cradle of Filth, the Insane Clown Posse, or Marilyn Manson, but when Gwar does it, it's on a totally different level. That being said, as much as I enjoyed TNDA initially, I was missing a massive degree of context, and most of the songs lacked meaning. After reading Michael Bishop's (the slave of Blothar) thoughts on many songs and reading the comic, referred to as Duo henceforth, my feelings towards it have skyrocketed, and I have a lot to say about it. Surprisingly enough, this is all my opinion, and just like my previous post, I won't be arguing too much with anyone with a bone to pick. At the end of the day it's all Gwar media, and we're all here because we love Gwar.
I wanted to talk about the comic mainly, but considering it was composed alongside the album, it's impossible to speak on just one without bringing up the other. Before I delve into Duo though, it behooves me to say something about the first two comics from this modern era (I haven't read Slave Pit Funnies, sorry. Can we get a trade paperback collecting them someday?). Orgasmageddon is okay for what it is, a story about Mr Perfect sending Gwar off on a time-travelling dick rocket before they come back, beat up Bozo Destructo, and kill Mr Perfect. There's some fun stuff where they pass by the Jerry Springer show and see Oderus and that kid who believes in everything Gwar stands for, and the art is amazing, but the book really shines in its back up stories, which are drawn and written by Hunter Jackson and others. The Billy and Mandy) invader Zim cartoon nastiness really shines there in a way that it doesn't quite gel the way I think they were hoping. Reading this one really made me wonder why they didn't try to adapt the narrative of Battle Maximus, but I think I like that story existing in musical form.
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"Enormogantic Fail" was actually the first Gwar comic I read, and while I don't think it's entirely successful in what it's trying to do either, the art is even better here, and the Rashomon style narrative wherein all the Gwar members give their version of the destruction of Flab Quarv 7 is pretty clever, especially when you get to the relative grimness of Pustulus' story, with its more serious art and dour writing. While I like this book and recommend it to fans of Gwar, I do think it strays too far into goofy territory without saying much. To give you an idea of what kind of book this is, we meet Blothar on the toilet after he's taken a bunch of drugs. He's meditating on the toilet, the fumes of his feces getting him higher than before. If that's funny to you, this might be your favorite comic book!
I also feel like the way the Scumdogs talk to one another feels off. They all talk in one-liners, and for the most part are interchangeable. One more thing that irks me is their treatment of Oderus. He doesn't seem to be part of their little group of death dealers, and at the end there's an epic battle between Gwar, the Destructos, and Cardinal Syn, and Oderus is there as well, for some reason. Maybe I've missed some nuance, I don't know.
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Which brings me to Duo. This comic is a lightyear ahead of Gwar's previous offerings in terms of art, writing, and conception. The Gwar characters banter and bicker like the Ninja Turtles, with the book opening with the grouchy Pustulus punching the dog-like Jizmak so hard he hurtles through the walls, disturbing Blothar as he meditates quietly in his room, levitating off the ground. Blothar in particular is really well-conceived here. He's written as a giant slob, but also a meditative Viking warrior, like he's the mythological Thor. The other notable thing about Duo is its usage of the song titles from TNDA.
The first one is "Bored to Death", which is sung by Pustulus and Balsac on the album. It's an amazingly heavy and fun song, about how he's bored of killing people, and is trying to, to use the song's pun, bore people to death with drills. They're also bored of being Gwar, which leads to the inciting incident of the story when Jizmak, thrown through the fortress by the irate Pustulus, breaks Blothar's magic mirror. The two are pointlessly watching TV, Balsac is commiting suicide, and Beefcake is reading a newspaper. Things are so mundane and sucky that the slaves are actually drinking tea by the fireplace! It's like Gwar wants chaos to befall them.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention the opening, where Oderus is locked in battle with his erstwhile foe, Techno Destructo! A regular jagoff named Will Fence happens to be with his dog, Pookie, when a chunk of Techno's processor gets knocked off, killing his dog! The distraught man takes the processor back and hooks it up to his computer, probably creating the internet.
Blothar and Pustulus get pulled into the broken mirror, and though Balsac, the relative genius of the group tries to repair it, he succeeds in bringing back not Blothar and Pustulus, but Blofart and Rhinestone Maximus!! While Blothar is a composed, if lazy warrior, Blofart is an insane Berserker! And while Pustulus Maximus is the hardcore metal guitarist of Gwar, Rhinestone is a fucking country singer!
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The ideas at play here are so fresh and exciting that it took me by surprise, especially coming off the flimsiness of "Orgasmageddon".
The song "The New Dark Ages" is the thesis statement for this concept album/comic book. Whatever your politics, we're living in strange times. The world is more polarized than ever before, and there are people who literally live in their own realities, divorced from facts or common sense. Go to 4chan, you'll see people that think the Jews defeated Trump as part of "The Great Replacement" scheme. It's crazy.
"No more age of reason/darkness, men are lost in the gloom/No love of light is left/Where there once was science/Is now a cult of death", sings Blothar in the song, and he and Pustulus in the comic find themselves in the mirror universe, where pretty much every wild conspiracy theory is made manifest. It's a mystical space brought into being by human imagination, where the Queen of England is a lizard person, the earth is flat, and the moon landings were false flag movies made by Stanley Kubrick!
We also get a reference to the song "Blood Libel" here as Blothar and Pustulus are served babies with straws in their heads when they try to order a pizza, which is a hilarious reference to a more modern conspiracy theory, Pizzagate. Here in the mirror universe, it's real! Our heroes are monsters from space though, so they aren't too weirded out by this. It's moments like this where the inherent cheesiness of the Gwar concept really pays off, as well as the mirror verse conceit. I'm the song, "Blood Libel" Blothar points out that they aren't killing babies for adrenochrome or whatever, they do it just for fun because they're fucking Gwar. If anyone's raping babies, it's the Catholic Church! By showing it in the mirror verse, it's a tacit point that it isn't really happening in the real world. The chapter closes out with Blothar and Pustulus meeting President Sleazy's Secretary of State, who tells them how in their universe, Gwar took over the world in order to make it great again after Sleazy resurrected them with adrenochrome harvested from tortured babies. Also, he taught them to play country music instead of metal because it's a more commercial, crowd-pleasing genre. Funny stuff, especially with Gwar gleefully poking fun at themselves and their underground status.
The third chapter, "Completely Fucked" follows Blofart's rampage. Beefcake laughing at the US military's futile attempts to stop him is hilarious. Why should Gwar care if an alternative version of Blothar is destroying the world? They're Gwar! Meanwhile, Jizmak is in Mecca as Rhinestone Maximus is hypnotizing everyone at the Kaaba with his Gwarified version of achey breaky heart. Rather than avoiding the brainwashed pilgrims as they attack him, he slaughters them! I'm sure Spider-Man would approve!
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Important to note as well is that the song, "The Venom of the Platypus" is referenced here as Balsac, coordinating with Bonesnapper, Jizmak, the slaves, and the rest of Gwar not in the mirror verse, has a virtual assistant named Raspy that is shaped like a platypus, and is provided by the comic's version of Apple, Macrohard, which itself is powered by the chunk of Techno's armor that Will Fence retrieved.
Balsac, being the thinker he is, decides that though the magic mirror has properties that allow Scumdogs to communicate freely across the vastness of space, it shouldn't be able to make alternative facts become real, let alone warp them into the real world. He deduces that it's because he connected it to the internet, where crazy ideas fester and take on a life of their own. Incisive commentary I wasn't expecting. Speaking of incisive commentary, Raspy, the platypus shaped Siri spoof, is an excellent critique of our reliance on the internet for our shopping, thinking, and navigation. The platypus is adorable, but is secretly venomous; furthermore, Raspy is taking orders from the entity that became self-aware when Techno's hard drive became the internet. Apple-i mean-Amazon-i-mean-google-i mean the Mad Monk!
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The stage is set for carnage as the Mad Monk conspires to bring his alternative universe through the magic mirror, Rhinestone and Blofart work to take over the earth, Blothar and Pustulus try to reach President Sleazy, and Balsac is forced to call in an old enemy to help out! This post is long as fuck, so I'll have to post the rest later! Stay tuned, bohabs!
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ravencollege · 4 months
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It felt sweet. The way someone’s name can feel on your tongue. Like honey and figs. Even if it’s bittersweet it’s still inviting. Sonically pleasing, warming the body, gentle on the soul. Melancholic. There are names you may not say aloud for a long time so the feeling of saying it doesn’t seem immediately apparent. Thinking it isn’t the same as hearing yourself say it. Forming the syllables with your lips and making it real. It’s different. You don’t realize the weight of a name until it’s spoken into existence. That’s how he felt in that moment, saying a name so fond in his memory but unsaid in recent years.
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“Jamil?”
It was wishful thinking maybe. Davaa thought he’d meet Jamil one day, someday, but it wasn’t something he was actively searching for. Be it his own stops and starts, desire or fears, he kept the sentiment to the side, right in his periphery but never in front of him. It wasn’t so much avoidance as it was having other things to worry about. Both their lives seemed to be going perfectly sound (as far as Davaa knew on Jamil’s part, he would only ever see updates through magicam or what have you) but it was enough to satiate whatever anxieties he has for the former classmate’s well being as well as giving him an excuse to put it off. It’s not avoidance per se, he doesn’t want to fall back into that pattern, but butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Fluttering worries that are more stereotypically crush-shaped that makes him even more embarrassed. If he said ‘I miss you’ that would be painful. Painful in the cringe way right? Silly, ridiculous, delusional. Right? But he did. He does. And he wants to see this guy again even apart from past feelings because they were friends, even if neither of them admitted it outright back then. Stubborn teenage pride, the hubris of them both, is what was cringe. 
Things are different now. Years have passed. He’s standing in a gallery of his own blood, sweat and tears and some rich admirers are going to buy them for money he couldn’t exactly fathom. He was standing there only half paying attention to what his patrons were saying but he at least had his curator with him who was doing most of the heavy lifting on the negotiations, financial and logistics. There was a smudge on his glasses. He didn’t particularly like wearing them but he needed them to read now or for anything that requires finer detail work. It also totally makes him look smarter than he is, more refined or whatever. Along with slim-fit black slacks and dress shoes and black dress shirt practically half unbuttoned but tucked in because getting him into anything aside from joggers is a negotiation in itself. ‘You have to look presentable’ and all that. Even if anyone was allowed to wander in for the viewing, he still had to seem at least semi-serious as an artist. Although Davaa would argue having an eccentric gimmick would garner more attention, so he should have worn something totally obscene instead. Davaa is currently glad his manager had shot down that idea. 
His line of sight wanders to the smudge on the class directly in front of them, moving to remove them but hesitates when a distraction behind the buyer's head. It’s been awhile. Not too long, it could have been longer, but maybe just long enough. The man’s shoulders tense, his posture straightening and adding a good few inches back to his height from slouching. For how alert he seems now it’s possible his eyes even dilated after spotting them from across the room. But he’s still embroiled in this conversation. Brown eyes flicker from person to person, thinking frantically about what he should do right now at this very moment. Mouth gapes a little, preparing to excuse himself somehow but nothing came. He awkwardly shifts, shuffling away from the other three mumbling something something toilet something something emergency something you can have it for free hold on- and making a goofy little b-line to the familiar face.
@auratvm 💛
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salaimoi · 4 months
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i wave goodbye to the end of beginning ˚. ✦.˳· ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader sypnosis: he wasn’t what you desired anymore, but he couldn’t let you go. months passed since your bitter breakup, and yet, he didn’t stop loving you for a second. cw: slow burn. angst for the sake of angst. falling out of love for no reason fr. unrequited love. alcohol consumption (gojo only) no happy ending me thinks, or maybe somewhat. who knows word count: 3.1k
author's notes: i’m mourning gojo and so should you! so here’s a piece of an angsty fic that’s been rotting, unfinished, in my drafts since march 29. i was only gonna post a sneak peek of this and suddenly the holy spirit took over me and drove me to finally finish it??? IF U EVER READ ANYTHING OF MINE PLEASE LET IT BE THIS😭😭i’m so in love with the reader crying scene u don’t get it. the metaphors?! i outdid myself. i am so terrified of the deep ocean, and the fact that i find myself writing about it during angsty hours says a lot about me. i can’t emphasize how much i adore this fic. i just love angst sm idkidkidk
also, this is my first time attempting angst for the sake of angst as well as slow burn (?) so idk if i’ll ever come back to this. not beta read.
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Time and again, this mahogany dining table was the scene of numerous heartwarming interactions – mementos Satoru wouldn’t be able to replicate a second time, even if he spent a thousand lifetimes trying to do so. Sure, it was more than easy to recreate the scene, but not the genuine warmth the two of you felt in that moment. He could go to great lengths, such as hand-crafting every single piece of furniture in the room that bore witness – carving and polishing wood until his palms became more splinters than skin. But even then, he wouldn’t come close to reliving any of those gratifying sentiments from so long ago.
All the shared laughter at his trivial attempts at comedy had caught up to you; your smiles were forced lately, and he could tell. He possessed that diamond-blue, six-eyed gaze which consistently made you feel as if he could undeniably read your thoughts, but that wasn’t the case. Even a blind person could discern the unforeseen shift in your comportment toward him, and due to this, Satoru questioned himself relentlessly. 
What if he’d said something to offend you? What if he left the toilet seat up one too many times for your liking? What if he began snoring in bed but you were too considerate to say anything about it? What if he forgot a special date? What if he tried to offer you something you were allergic to? 
What if he stopped being the love of your life...? 
It seemed as if, in a fraction of a second, all the enjoyment you once felt had deserted you, and with it, your love for him. Had you forgotten how happy you were by his side all in the spawn of a few hours, or was this the universe’s twisted interpretation of a joke?
Even if it was, you weren’t laughing.
You told yourself it was fine, that it was a mere wave of sadness that would soon pass, but instead the harmless tide you paid no mind to had brutally swept your body into a sea of despair. Before you could process your predicament, the shoreline was well out of sight – blurring with the deep blue expanse of the oceanic abyss that enveloped your mind.
The longer you fought to stay afloat, the clearer the path became for the briny water to replace the oxygen in your lungs, giving you no choice but to drown as everything around you became a pitch-black, bottomless pit – devoid of any sense of worry for you. 
It was rather often that you were accused of abandoning the ship when things got bad, and yet, here you were – submerging along with it.  
How ironic.
Even he couldn’t save you now. The solace his mere presence bestowed upon you when you needed it most wasn’t there anymore. There was no more capability of initiating conversations with him when you were the only other person in the room, causing the once-upbeat and soothing environment to give way to one of silence and uncertainty; it was as thick as syrup.
Syrup. The sugary taste of it from when you consumed it during breakfast was all but replaced by a repugnant, sour one in your mouth. A persistent echo of those homemade fluffy pancakes you had turned down remained, even though he had made them just for you — his precious girl. 
You insisted you would eat later – an obvious white lie to mask your despondency and lack of appetite – but he spoon-fed you, because in his own words, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I allow my girlfriend to starve? No, that won’t do. I’ll take care of you even after I've exhaled my last breath.”
“And how would you do that if you’re no longer breathing, genius?” you asked, a wilting smile on your face that you had put on display for him. 
“Well, my dear," he retorts with a smug grin. "I've always believed that love has a way of transcending the boundaries of life and death. And as luck would have it, our love transcends the mortal realm. I will always be with you, in spirit if not in flesh.” he smiles, a twinkle of amusement behind his sapphire eyes before continuing.
“Once I've moved on to the afterlife, I'll find a way to send you sweet nothings and a box of chocolates from beyond the grave. Consider it an eternal gift.”
He declares in a complacent tone as he lounges back in his chair, head resting comfortably on the back of his hands. 
"But in all seriousness," he then adds, his tone becoming more genuine, "I'll do everything in my power to ensure you're taken care of – even if it means making sure my eternal resting place has a Wi-Fi connection for you to receive my messages.” 
Your thoughts were entirely silenced in that moment; white noise overtook the black space within your mind. How had he managed to say such heartfelt words as if they were second nature? This early in the morning, nonetheless.
Would he actually…?
You knew he would.
"But let’s not dwell on my demise just yet,” his words bring you back to the present conversation. “Until the day comes, I promise to make the most of our time together. Besides, knowing me, I’d probably haunt you just to ensure you have someone annoying to keep you company."
He finally remarked, going back to stuffing your face with the soggy pancakes that had been sitting in syrup for too long. 
And you were cognizant of the fact that you alone were privy to this side of Satoru Gojo: the mushy, gentle one who tended to his companion as if it were a god-given mandate. 
To the public, he was a stoic, impervious character who had no dread of others. To you, he was far more vulnerable than he would ever confess. 
But that wasn’t nearly enough to deter you from taking the disheartening decision made later that day.
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“I can’t stay here anymore.” austere words you didn’t wish to speak, but needed to, in order to provide some semblance of closure for the both of you. “I can’t love you anymore.” 
A hushed supplication could be heard flying across the room at the speed of light once your hand reached out to turn the bitterly cold door knob, hitting against the back of your head – identical to an equally-cold shower.
“Please don’t leave me,” he immediately protested weakly. 
He approached you with cautious strides, every step causing fragmentation in his all-too-frail emotional state. Even if it was ephemeral, the mutual love between the two of you had already left a blazing watermark on his soul. His feelings for you transcended the nagging rationality that bound his mind, defying all sensible objections he had on the matter of permitting you to depart from his life. Having failed to quell the ardor her felt, it persisted apodictically until he was an arm’s length from your frame. 
And that was exactly it – the same frigid sensation your hand clinged onto emulated the one you felt in your wretched heart the moment he approached you. You’d already turned your back on him and expressed every afflicting anguish that tormented your soul, so why plead now? Now – when you already made the conscious decision to leave him behind. 
Tears neither you nor he could hold back began flowing down your features. A familiar hand lifted towards your cheek soon after, wiping the salty residue off your delicate face with his thumb. 
He never ceased to remind you how gorgeous you were when you cried, frankly because the manner in which your wispy eyelashes retained the saltine tears in your eyes resembled the delicate surface of a tranquil pond.
Every tear you shed would become the gentle water that tickled his skin as his body wafted about in your iris – an eternal reservoir he’d swim in without tiring if the heavens so permitted it.
However, this occasion differed from the rest; the once gentle waters he yearned to lay in became calamitous waves, which may lure him to the ocean’s most profound recesses in the blink of an eye – your blink of an eye. He would usually stay afloat among that innocent gaze of yours, but tonight it was ruthlessly drowning him with no lifeline in sight. 
Even after he implored that your crying would come to a halt, more pungent teardrops bled onto his fingers. An eroding desperation flowed through you, aching to hold onto something, anything, in order to cease the mental decay within your subconscious.
Thus, your own hand extended to hold his against your cheek, a glacial embrace overpowering the warmth of his skin; an identical chill tickled his spine when he absorbed the crispness of your graze, but he paid it no mind.
“Not you too…anyone but you,” he pleaded in a low voice, causing more accursed tears of yours to cascade mercilessly as he embraced you in an endeavor to sway your decision. His voice was gentle and soothing, mimicking a caress you’d never experience a second time. 
“I’m sorry.” you muttered.
Being unable to bring yourself to meet the sapphire eyes that imitated a midwinter sky so perfectly, your head lay low; the only thing visible to him was the top of it. 
It was unclear what you were sorry about. Perhaps you were sorry that you had to leave him behind. Or perhaps you were apologizing to yourself that he was no longer what you thought you wanted with every fiber in your body.
You desired more in this life, and on your game board, he wasn’t a playing piece who could frolic alongside you. It wasn’t because you didn’t fancy his company, rather it was the fact that his own strategy of playing was one that did not catch your eye anymore; it had become a monotonous rehearsal. Every move came to be a discernible one to you – even before he picked up his pawn, causing you to lose interest in the entire game itself.
That realization alone shattered his entire world.
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Satoru’s head lay low all throughout as he sat on a wooden stool amidst the empty bar. It was 2 a.m. and he needed to go home, but why should he?
You wouldn’t be there to greet him – or even scold him for that matter. 
Colorless, almost lifeless, marbles stared vacantly at the picture of you on his lock screen; he consistently spoke to your picture as if he were having a conversation with it. At this point in time, it had become routine. Maybe one of these days the frozen-in-time frame would speak back to him for once?
Just once.
Where had that tender smile he’d fallen in love with gone?
Where had you gone?
On a nightly basis, the same detestable conversation from that night redounded from one end of Satoru’s mind to the other incessantly – akin to a religiously recited sermon. 
It was impractical to disregard the harsh reality that sooner or later every cherished individual he held dear to his heart willingly departed from his life – Suguru, and now you. 
If it entailed becoming a regular person, he’d give his life as a sorcerer to ensure the permanent presence of at least one individual in his life. Where was the value of possessing such prowess when one’s vulnerability in the realm of love was inescapable? 
What twisted transaction was that?
He'd even willingly forsake his divinely bestowed talents for the purpose of altering the passage of time, thereby reverting to a period where your presence was far from being nothing more than a diminishing recollection. 
Ijichi had been dealing with this side of his boss for months on end. Regardless of his efforts to encourage Gojo to put an end to this melancholic act of his, he never managed to convince him to do so. Ijichi attempted the compassionate approach, but to no avail. His optimism and patience were dwindling, fearing that this would continue on for eternity – and perhaps it would’ve if he hadn’t stepped in.
This had to end sooner or later, and for everyone involved’s sake, it had to be the former. So tonight, he opted for a sterner, and perhaps more unforgiving, path.
Your car was parked out front of the bar Ijichi had sent you the address to – forehead pressed against the steering wheel as an audible, exhausted sigh escaped your mouth. It was late and you knew this was nothing short of inane behavior. You weren’t doing this for you; you had to remind yourself that you were doing it for him, with the hope that he would ultimately find someone who would be there for him in a way that you were unable to. 
Weary, almost weak, legs lead you to enter the desolate bar. A knife prods at your chest when your eyes dart over to where Gojo was. He kept his head lowered; the only part of him you could clearly see from this angle was his back.
An overwhelming sea of emotions plagued your mind when you witnessed him in such a state. You could feel the knives twist the longer you stared at the back of his fluffy white locks. 
Months had passed since your split, and you realized Satoru’s grief and distress were indeed as dire as his assistant conveyed to you during the phone conversation. 
A tap on his shoulder was accompanied by a sweet voice that had vanished into the depths of his consciousness a long time ago. Perhaps because he didn't wish to recall the agonizing memories that came with your voice, or perhaps because he needed to maintain a pristine, untouched image of you in his psyche.
As you occupy a vacant stool one seat away from him, your attention is drawn to the half empty vodka bottle in his grasp. 
“You know, I talked to your therapist. He said you were getting sober.” 
What you said held true, except you didn’t hear it from his therapist directly; Ijichi was the one who was initially informed about that, and being the caring person he was, he relayed the details to you. Mostly because he felt as if, deep down, you still wanted to know about Gojo’s well-being.
"What are you doing here drowning yourself in alcohol?" you added, seemingly concerned for your ex-boyfriend.
He looked up at you, his eyes red and bleary from the drink. His body froze. Blue pupils dilated in a mixture of shock and happiness. It really was you. Had you come back for him after all this time? 
"What does it look like I’m doing?" he muttered, his voice bitter and angry.
Satoru detested alcohol; it always interfered with his abilities, and being the strongest meant being ready whenever – no questions asked.  After your departure, though, he grew fond of the bitter, burning feeling the liquid provided. That sweet poison was the sole substance capable of muffling the eternal pessimism plaguing his mind.
You approached him cautiously, taking the bottle from his hands and setting it aside. "Come on," you said firmly, "we need to get you home."
He wasted no time to speak what was really on his mind. Even if it was for a mere second, he had felt the sensation of your touch once more. That was more than he needed to vocalize the thoughts that tormented his sanity. Either that, or it was the alcohol he had consumed speaking. 
“Why won’t you love me back?” His words slurred, being far too drunk to care, though. 
“…You’re drunk, let’s get you home.”
“What home? The one I bought for us that YOU left me all alone in?” he deadpans, the silence following being as deafening as a scream.
Ouch. 
“My room feels so empty if you’re not there. I see your precious face and I don't know what to do.” His expression dampens with anguish before he continues – somewhat unclearly, ”whatever I do, I cam’t fubking get you out of my head amd it’s ruining me.” 
“I told you to move on a million times every time you drunk dialed me, Satoru.” 
“If that’s what you wanted, why did you continue to pick up the call?” He retaliates, eyes glazed with forbidden tears on the verge of cascading against his pale skin.
You knew perfectly well why. He knew perfectly well why. Everyone Satoru vented to about you knew why, so why continue to deny it? 
Attempting to keep your temper in check, you take a deep breath, eyes darting back and forth between the door and him. It was more than easy to run away from your problems, like you always did. But not this time.
You owed it to him to at least finally stick around long enough when things got tough. You wouldn’t put up an invisible wall between the two of you anymore, not today. 
You sigh, taking the empty seat right next to him. 
“We can’t go back to how things were. We broke up, remember?” 
“I know,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his beverage. He shook his head, his drunken state making it almost impossible to focus his thoughts or his vision. “But maybe drinking will make me forget that we ever did. Maybe tonight I can pretend we’re still together,” his voice and face etched with sorrow.
His voice trailed off, followed by another long sip of his drink. 
“You need to quit drinking yourself into a stupor, Satoru. This isn’t healthy,” you responded, voice softening out of concern. 
His eyes still clouded with alcohol, he looks at you before speaking. “I don’t know how to move on.” He admitted, voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to live without you. I loved you…and I still do.”
He silently weeps once and for all, crumbling before the love of his life. You didn’t know what else to say, so you settled on simply allowing his head to rest on your shoulder; you always were his favorite shoulder to cry on, after all. Wrapping an arm around him, you pet his head as you lull him. Instinctively, he envelops you into a warm embrace, face burying itself deeper into your chest. 
As he continued to sob like a baby, the sorcerer allowed his emotions to flow freely – months of bottling them up into liquor bottles had finally caught up to him. 
He was beyond ecstatic underneath all the melancholy; not only had you allowed him to get closer to you, but even went as far as hugging him too. He couldn't believe it. Just a few moments ago, you were talking about forcing him to move on, but now – you were actually back in his arms, where you belonged.
He felt relieved for a moment, almost to the point where he wasn't thinking properly anymore. You were finally back in his arms, where you needed to be; he refused to let go.
It felt like a fever dream, but this was all he needed. Even if you’re gone, morning come, he’ll live in this moment for the rest of eternity. 
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iwadori · 3 years
Note
Oh my God, I just saw your angst iwa fic with the pregnant reader and then looked for more fics on your blog and I fell in love with it???❤❤ + ayeee another demon slayer lover here 😭can I maybe be an emoji anon?:"D I would love to chat with you but a little bit to shy
And I hope its also okay if I request something: Can you maybe do Tendou and Iwaizumi making the reader insecure? ( maybe where the reader gets jealous/ insecure because some fangirls are flirting with them and they say something like "maybe you are to insecure/jealoue" and they are scared that they will leave them?)
Hope you have a great day <3
When they make you insecure PT 4/ Dating your brothers teammate PT3
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When they make you insecure:
Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four Part Five Part six
Dating your brothers teammate:
Part One Part Two Part Three
Word Count: 2.1K
Genre: angst,fluff
masterlist
Authors Note: Thank you so much for liking my other works, and OF COURSE you can message me/be a continous anonymous ask. BTW if anybody wants to privately message me just to talk or whatever or ask me questions on my asks they can!! And IK this wasn’t technically what you asked for but I hope this is good enough <3 (I will most likely do Iwaizumi in the next part) by the way this is NOT proofread (so expect mistakes)
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Tendou
You and tendou have been talking since you were in your first year and his second.
So you weren’t officially dating.
He was interested in what the second ushijima would be like.
You were just like your brother, sharp and stoic but great in everything you do and it seemed that Tendou took a liking to that.
You entered your brother's dorm room in the hopes of finding Tendou, but unluckily it was just Ushijima reading his magazines. “He’s not in here,” he said before you could even ask about your crush's whereabouts.  
As you were about to leave the room, Ushijima asked you to sit down for a moment so he could to you “yess toshi?” you said already bored.
“Are you and Tendou dating?” he asked
“Umm I-” You didn’t really know what to say, since you and Tendou haven’t officially put a label on things (as much as you wanted him too.) “Not really dating per se, just going through the motions...i guess” you said with uncertainty.
“Going through the motions?” Ushijima questioned more to himself then to you.  
“Don’t worry about it Toshi” you say ruffling his hair
“I’m just checking to make sure you’re okay Y/N” he said seriously “Oh and by the way when you and Tendou are about to have se-”
“La La La La La” you say putting your fingers in your ears “I do not need a sex-ed lesson from you nii-san" you swiftly leave the room a tad bit grossed out.
“Oh and by the way Tendou is probably in Eita’s and Kenjirou’s room.” he calls.
You excitedly skip over to Semi’s and Shirabu’s room happy to see your boyfriend ‘friend.’ Walking to the door, before you open it, you hear Tendou talking to Semi and Shirabu and the conversation topic seems to be about you.  
“How are things going with Y/N Tendou” Semi asked “You’re practically dating now. Right?”
“Well Semi-sem, I wouldn’t say that...” Tendou said, making you furry your eyebrows in confusion. “Y/N is a bit, you know... what’s the right word” he thinks, “Boring.”
You step back abit from the door, shocked. ‘Boring?’ How were you boring... You were hurt. Especially since you’ve heard the insult of you being boring your whole life, you knew that you took after your brother in most aspects but that didn’t make neither you or your brother boring. You’ve even have voiced that specific insecurity (about you being boring) where Tendou always assured you that you were the most interesting person he’s ever met.
You went back into Ushijima’s room since it was the closest place and you knew you could always go to your brother whenever you were upset or just in need of someone to listen to you rant about anything. Upon your entering, Ushijima looks up at you and before he could ask what was wrong you wrapped your arms around him and just burst out crying. Awkwardly, Ushijima pats your back not really knowing what to do. He waits for you to calm down before asking you “What’s wrong Y/N?”
“h-he called me boring...” you cried again slightly, “I heard him talking with Semi and Shirabu”
“Well I don’t think you a boring, not at all Y/N” he said handing you a tissue so that you can wipe your eyes and blow your nose “Do you need me to talk with him?”
“No!” You exclaimed “Don’t talk to him...I’ll handle it.” You knew that him and Tendou talking wouldn’t turn out right, because you weren’t even dating in the first place and Ushijima would definitely deep the situation more then needs be.  
“Ushiwaka I brought some snacks for us” said a cheerful sounding Tendou entering the room. His voice faltered when he saw a teary eyed you wrapped up in her brothers arm. “Y/N-chan are you alright?”  
“Yeah I’m fine” you respond dryly “Well I’ll be going...thanks Toshi”  
You leave the room not looking Tendou in the eye leaving him confused. He thought you would be happy to see him, although he knew you weren’t officially ‘together’ or whatever so he didn’t get why you seemed mad.
“Hey Ushiwaka, what’s wrong with Y/N” he asked  
“She said I am not allowed to discuss it with you.” Ushijima replied flipping through his magazine
‘So there is a problem..’ Tendou thought trying to think of things that could spur up your problem with him.
When you were heading to your room, you bumped into Semi and Shirabu who seemed to be heading towards your brother. “Hey Y/N” they greeted simultaneously
“hi guys..” you said sniffling  
They could see that you were sad and didn’t want to pry, so in an attempt to make you feel better Semi said “One of our friends, I think someone from Karasuno is having a party do you wanna come with us.” Just then, a lightbulb went off in your head and you thought of the best idea to really show Tendou you aren’t boring and you can also make your ‘boy’ friend jealous at the same time.
You immediately perk up and smile at the boys surprising them, “Sure, I'd love to go pick me up at 8?” you ask making them nod as you rush back to your dorm room to find something to wear.  
After basically emptying your wardrobe, you find something to wear (a little black dress to be precise) you couldn’t deny that you were hot in general but right now in this dress there was no dispute about how beautiful you are.
Semi knocks on your door right at 8pm, his eyes widening seeing how you look. You gave him a knowing smirk making the tips of his ears go red, “should we be going now...?” you ask as he was stood there frozen staring at you,
“Uhm yeah sure” he said awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck feeling a little bit embarrassed.
Entering the party, a lot of eyes were on both you and Semi in jealousy and in want. You were both the most attractive ‘couple’ in the room and it was obvious that you both knew that. Tendou was already there sitting in the corner of the room with the rest of the Shiratorizawa boys, he had of bit of anger brewing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you on Semi’s arm.
“Semi! My twin, welcome to the party!” Yelled a boy who looked kind of like Semi, making Semi roll his eyes
“Hi, I’m Sugawara but you can just call me suga” he says to you extending his hand “and you are...”
“Oh Hi! I’m Ushijima Y/N” you replied back giving his hand a shake
“I see, Ushiwaka’s little sister...cute” he says smiling in your face “Well I’ve got to now and make sure certain teammates of mine aren’t blowing up my house or anything so talk to you soon”
“You do kind of look the same Semi” you say to him teasingly
“Oh, shut up Y/N” he says jokingly making you laugh pretty loudly putting your arm on his bicep (forearm I don’t know the body part lol.) You look over to Tendou and you could tell he was getting bothered by your interaction with Semi making it even more enjoyable to you.
“Semi, do you wanna dance?” you ask batting your eyelashes at him, throwing him off. “Um okay.”
You were being a bit wild with your movements whilst dancing with Semi (since you’re obviously not the usual party-goer) but you were enjoying yourself nevertheless.  
“Are you okay Y/N?” Semi asks you  
“Yeah why wouldn’t I be” you respond
“Um...it’s just that you’ve been a bit weird tonight and I’ve seen the staring matches you and Tendou have been having” he says “Is everything alright with both of you?”
He leads you over to somewhere more private so that you could properly talk, “So what's been going on with the two of you.”
“You should know more than me Semi” you sigh “You were there when he called me boring”
“I don’t think he meant it th-” he starts  
“I don’t care what he meant to be honest, I just wanted to prove to him more so prove to myself that I’m not boring. Cause I don’t think I am.” you say
“You’re not Y/N” he says looking at you “Of course you aren’t.”
“I guess so... it doesn’t even matter I shouldn’t even be so upset, since me and Tendou aren’t actually dating.” you mumbled looking away
“Tendou really likes you Y/N” he says turning your body so you’re so looking at him “He talks about you all the time, since he thinks you’re amazing.”
You’re now staring into each other's eyes “And that’s because you are amazing Y/N” his words make you smile and look down slightly. Maybe it was just because you were both in the heat of the moment, but Semi lips up your chin so you’re both directly in front of each other and you then subconsciously lean into his face closing your eyes (with him doing the same.) And just as your lips were about to touch you hear a,
“What the fuck is happening here!” you look to your left and see both Tendou and Ushijima. With Tendou having his mouth agape and Ushijima having his usual monotone expression on. Tendou rushes over to you and grips your arm pulling your arm up, making you wince slightly and him lessening his grip on you. He pulls you into the bathroom and sits you down on the toilet (the lid is closed) and he leans against the sink.
“What’s your problem with me Y/N” he says sounding pretty fed up.
“Nothing...I don’t see why you care … It’s not like we’re dating or anything” you say mumbling the last part.
“Oh so that’s your problem!” he exclaims, kind of happy that he cracked the code on why you were mad at him.
“No my problem is that you think Im boring” you whine  
“Boring... I don’t think I ever sai-” he pauses realizing what you were referring too “Oh you heard me when I was with Semi-sem and Shirapoo... we thought we heard someone outside”
You sat there with a bored expression on your face waiting for an explanation, “I never said you were boring, well I did. But I assume you miss what I really said was ‘Boring. No that’s also the wrong word too she’s blunt it’s like I’m talking to a girl version of Ushijima sometimes it’s spooky.... but besides that, I really like her’ that’s what I said”
Oh, ‘I guess that makes sense,’ you think... because you were shocked that Tendou would call you boring in the first place so it makes more sense that he didn’t even fully mean that and you just didn’t hear the full thing.
“Oh” you say, looking down feeling a bit embarrassed  
"I really like you Y/N... and I know you’ve been waiting on me to ask you to be my girlfriend and I’m sorry for not doing it sooner, I just didn’t think we needed a label since we both knew what we were” he says kneeling down to be at your eye level “But obviously when I saw you dancing and flirting with Semi I realised what I gotta do... so Y/N Ushijima my ‘miracle girl’ will you be my girlfriend”  
“Of course,” you say giving him a hug  
“Oh, and Y/N...” he starts “were you really about to kiss semi” he asks in a jokey way “you would’ve been left with a permanent scowl left on your face” making you laugh.
After spending quite some time in the bathroom with Tendou, you finally leave and see Ushijima just standing outside patiently waiting.  
“Umm Toshi-nii what are you doing?” you ask  
“Just making sure you’re okay Y/N.” he says looking at both you and Tendou and then your hands that are holding each other's “Ahh I see you two are now boyfriend and girlfriend”
“Yes indeed we are Ushiwaka, I finally asked her!” Tendou replied
“Oh that’s good.” Ushijima nods at both at you as you start walking off to return to the party “Also Tendou, when you and Y/N have se-”
“Gosh Toshi, stop with the sex talk” you say putting your hands on your ears making Tendou laugh.
You and Tendou have so much fun in your relationship, always enjoying the time you spend together. There were no big problems with you two, besides minor arguments but if there ever was a problem you could always go to your big brother who had the best advice to give whether it was on relationships, plants or sex.
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Text
Carnation
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Yuta x Fem!reader
Warnings: period sex, lots of blood mentions, yandere undertones for Yuuta, TW.Dubcon if you squint I just want to be safe lol, unprotected sex, smut
Got super carried away with this one which is why it’s so long lol. I decided to combine the asks since I have got a lot for Yuta. Second anon if you’re uncomfortable with this fic which is understandable lol just shoot me another ask and I can do something else for you.
You lay curled in your bed, the sheets and pillows a mess around you, a fluffy hot water bottle cradled tightly to your front. The side of your body you laid on was beginning to ache from pressure, and you felt flush from heat, but you dared not move. You dreaded the intensifying of the stabbing pains your own body was wretchedly subjecting you to. Of course today would be the heaviest of your period, the day you had scheduled for a study session with Yuta. He was due to come over in about half an hour, and your pains were yet to ease up at all, despite the painkillers you had recently downed. You could cancel, yet, this was the first ever study session you had set up with your handsome friend, and you were loath to cancel it over something that would clear itself up eventually.
You closed your eyes, and pulled the hot water bottle you gripped like a lifeline closer to the source of your suffering.
~~~
*knock knock*
Fuuuuck. Was it that time already? You groggily sat up, releasing your water bottle and in replacement lightly pressing your hand against the throbbing pain that was starting to surge more strongly in the pit of your belly. You gently placed your feet on the ground off the side of your bed, and rose onto the balls of them just as delicately. You began your gloomy shuffle towards the entrance of your room, fixing your ruffled hair into place.
You pulled the door open on yourself slowly, croaking as Yuta’s tired but docile face materialised into view. 
“Good evening, (Name)-chan.” Yuta had his hands in his pockets and wore a kindly smile, the only thing betraying his pleasant demeanour being those familiar dark circles dusking the underside of his eyes. Dreary though they appeared, you could swear you saw a specular shimmer dance across his irises when he registered your form.
“Ah good evening to you too, Yuta! Come in and make yourself at home, I have some stuff set up on the coffee table.” You tried your best to look as perfectly in humour as you could, to not draw any attention to your current pain stricken condition. Must have been good enough, as Yuta had nodded in response and was now making his way over to nestle himself onto one of the pillows you had placed next to your make-shift study station. 
You yourself was headed to the kitchenette, about to ask what Yuta wanted to drink when a sharp stab erupted from your core. You threw your hand onto a countertop and visibly winced, when you noticed Yuta’s widened eyes had been following you. 
“(Name)! Are you okay?!” Yuta’s expression was alarmed, prepared to pounce up from his seating.
“Uh- I er uh- tripped over! Nothing to worry about!” You were blushing slightly, but righted yourself regardless and tried to stand as straight as you could. Yuta seemed slightly confused, and whilst he opened his mouth to speak you interrupted him with a casual “So what would you like to drink?” 
“Er.. I’m fine actually, I had something before I left home... actually I think you should come sit down, er, carefully.” He still looked a little concerned. You nodded your head and made your way over to his side. Settling yourself down, you could feel more pain pulsating within you, a low rumble threatening another great stab like you had experienced just. You drew your legs to your chest in an attempt to alleviate it slightly, and picked up your copy of “a comprehensive guide to the relation of curses and the law”; holding it open in front of you.
You could feel Yuta’s gaze still trained on you.
~~~
“So, although the police would have to intervene if someone was hurt or killed in the incident, sorcerers still have the right to- er - (Name)?”
Crap. You were too focused on the waves of torture oscillating in your guts to keep your attention on Yuta explaining the info that went over your head in class to you again. And he noticed. You looked up at him softly, and offered a subdued “sorry.” You didn’t really have energy to maintain your act of being fine anymore. His eyes looked concerned. You turned your head to the floor and fiddled with your hands.
“Hey, (Name).” You heard him shift and alter the positioning of his legs. “Is it that time of the month?”
What?! Who asks that like this?! 
You threw your head back up to look at him, your face red and mouth agape. He threw his hands up defensively.
“Sorry, sorry!” He hurriedly turned his gaze into the distance and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just.. I have a little sister, so I’m used to this sort of thing, or at least I know a bit more about it than other guys.” He looked back to you. “It seems like the pains at least are distracting you from your studies, if you need painkillers or something.. I can go get them for you.”
“I er...I already tried that… doesn’t work out that well for me.” Was your meek, barely audible reply. You played with the tassel of the pillow you were sat on. Yuta looked pained on your behalf.
“Y’know… I read online somewhere that there’s always something you can try out failing all else.” He caught your gaze, and held it intently. 
It must be too good to be true, how would Yuta know some hidden method that you (as someone who experienced periods) didn’t know about for dealing with the pains?! Your eager look betrayed itself when a switch flicked in your head and your expression turned into one of astonishment. There’s no way he’s gonna suggest…
“Org*sms.”
You’d known Yuta for awhile now, but you had no idea just how… artless he was. Where was his tact?! Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. You felt like your face was about to explode.
Looking at him though, he was practically unfazed! As if you were going about some matter-of-a-fact order of business. What was this situation!
“I-is.. that a joke Yuta?” Your hands were curling into tight balls. 
“Of course not, (Name). You look like you’re in so much pain. I just want to help alleviate it.”
What the hell did he mean by that? Like you will just hop up right now and go jerk yourself in the bathroom as casually as using the toilet.. Or.. could he have meant..
You felt Yuta’s hand settle on your thigh, as he leant down further towards you. “I can help you out (Name)-chan.”
You couldn’t deny, you’d always found Yuta handsome, but for things to move along this quickly… and of all times! Surely his level of straight-forwardness defied all social conventions, and yet, it was working. The feel of his hand resting on you, his hungry stare, the way he loomed over you, chest rising and falling intently. You could feel a different kind of ache emanating from your lower parts. 
His hand drifted further up your body, coming to stop just below your belly button. “I want to help you… (Name)-chan.” You looked into his dark eyes. They were intense, hungry. You could swear he was salivating. 
“B-but Yuta.. I-I’m.. You know! Isn’t that.. Gross? For you?” He shot you a sheepish grin, hiding his eyes in an evasive fashion. His hand travelled downwards once more, snaking up the inside of your loose-fitting shorts and looping his fingers over the sides of your panties. He toyed with them, rolling the cloth over your skin and lightly pulling at them. “I don’t think any part of you is gross, (Name)-chan.” His eyes flicked open again, drawing you back into his intensity. “I think every part of you is beautiful, even.” You could sense his earnestness, and it made your cheeks burn. You went to throw your hands up to them, but he quickly caught them in his. “So, what’s your answer?” He planted a kiss in your palm. “Do you want my help? (Name)-chan.” 
Fuck.. the way he looked at you. Those ferocious, hooded eyes. Those calloused hands, usually wrapped around a katana, wrapped around yours right now. The burning you felt between your legs. God yes. God, you wanted it.
The alleviation of pain (and studying) was an afterthought.
~~~
Yuta had returned back to your living space with a towel from the bathroom. What? you didn’t want to get the floor messy. You could see an erection straining tightly against his black pants. 
Fuck, you were really gonna do this. He set it down flat on the floor, and invited you to come situate yourself on it.
~~~
After removing his shirt (It was white, after all), Yuta knelt himself down in front of you. He had a certain glint in his eyes, almost conflicting the harmless smile that he also wore, as if he wasn’t about to blissfully pound your bloody c*nt into oblivion. He undid the front buckle of his pants, a bulge emerging, the explicitness of his bare dick concealed by gray underwear. He began palming at the protuberance. You eyed the display curiously, when you had a sudden realisation.
“Y-Yuta, w-what about… protection?” you asked, uneasily. 
“Hm? (Name)-chan, you’re on your period, remember? You won’t get pregnant.”
“B-but..”
He cut you off. “I don’t have anything. Trust me.”
You nodded and grunted in acknowledgement. Yuta was always a trustworthy figure for you. Your strong, reliable friend who you could always depend on. He always took care of you, even during skirmishes with curses, arriving at your side before things even had the chance to get particularly hairy.
You watch Yuta as he tilts his keeling body forward, his hands landing on your ankles before travelling upwards, spreading your legs open in the process. You feel yourself blushing once again, tossing your head to the side. You can feel the front of your damp p*nties being touched, jumping in slight surprise at the abrupt action before Yuta starts rubbing at your cl*t through the fabric. He notices your breathing falter.
“Do you like it, (Name)-chan? Do you like how it feels when I rub you there?”
You mumble a small “yes.”
He’s applying more pressure to his administrations now. “Do you want me to take your p*nties off? So I can touch you properly?”
You answer yes again, this time more hastily. 
With that, he curls his fingers over the sides of your p*nties, dragging your legs into the air as he twists his body appropriately in order to shimmy the restrictive fabric off of you. He casts them to the side, before pulling your trembling limbs back into their previous position. Once he settled them back down, he kept his hands on your thighs as he drank in the glory of your exposed c*nt quivering before him, the string of your tampon peaking out in a taunting manner.
You heard him cooing at you quietly. “Beautiful.”
You cringed, wondering if he’d still be thinking that when he’s stained with blood. Even so, you couldn’t help but melt under the feeling of his fingertips tracing circles into your inner thighs. The way you felt a thumb flick over your n*ked sex.
“Is your stomach still hurting you?” The sudden question snapped you out of your stupor.
Truth be told, you’d almost completely forgotten about your pains you were so caught up in the moment, but something held you back from saying so. As if Yuta would stop touching you if you let him know the “reason” for the two of you doing this was almost completely resolved. And, you were relishing in the tenderness of his comforting too much for it to stop.
“Y-Yes..”
Yuta bent further over you, his head looming over your core. He sunk down, his face leaning into the space of your skin where your tummy and pelvis met. He planted a light kiss there.
“Well, I’m gonna make you feel better.”
His grip on your thighs tightened as his head lifted, his presence shadowing over you once again as he held himself higher. Your heart pounded. He leaned further on your left thigh and removed his hand from the other, as you felt fingers poking at your aching heat again.
Could you feel… pulling?
You felt a horrible, obscene slick escape you suddenly when Yuta yanked out your tampon. He pinched it limply in fingers, observing it slightly before placing it on the towel you shared.
“Yuta?!” You whelped. It was ironic. The two of you were sharing an intimate moment with each other, almost completely exposed. But this? It felt somewhat... invasive.
You could sense Yuta shrugging. “It needed to come out.” Before you even had a chance to respond, you could feel him caressing your folds. He was circling his thumb over them, the peak of the eclipse swiping over your cl*t. “Don’t worry, (Name)-chan you look beautiful.”
You looked to him, but he didn’t return the gaze. His stare was boring into your most private parts, hungrily eating up the view. The calloused hand still wrapped around your leg was gripping on tightly, as you felt Yuta dip a finger into your sopping c*nt.
“Fuck.. it’s so.. wet.”
Well, that was a given you supposed. But you knew a lot of what was down there was also probably your usual feminine slick, with the way he was making you ache. He continued pumping his finger in and out, the motion becoming deeper and rougher, him gaining confidence in what you were willing to take in. You could feel your muscles strain around it.
“That’s three.”
“Wait, w-what?!”
“Three fingers, (Name)-chan. You’re drenched down here.” You felt him remove his digits, Spreading them out across your lips. You then felt him draw a line across your inner thighs that intersected your p*ssy in the middle. Was he… playing in it? You decided not to question, you were too caught up in a wanton haze, hips bucking upwards, begging for his touch to return to your most sensitive parts.
“Y-yuta..”
He looked at you and smiled sincerely. “-just need to make sure you’re nice and loose for me, (Name)-chan.” Before you could react, plunging fingers speared your weeping c*nt, pumping with violent pace. You yelped and crumpled in on yourself when you felt his fingers curl against your velvety walls, yielding against the pressure. You squirmed underneath him even more when he began spreading them, parting your insides. You hummed, laying your hand over the top of his head, entwining yourself in the strands of his hair.
He shifted into your touch. “God, love this. So fucking beautiful.”
He peered at you from beneath those dark lashes. “You think you’re ready?”
“Hm?”
“For my cock.”
At that, you nodded, releasing your grasp on his hair and trailing your hand down his chest as he straightened himself, looping his fingers over the sides of his boxers, staining it with blood. He tugged them down, his painfully erect dick springing out into open air. You found yourself surprised at the length. Yet, He was focused on you. Pointing at your top half he asked you, “Can you take all of this off?”
You nodded and complied hurriedly.
When you were done Yuta was quick, grabbing your knees to hold you in place, leaning over to plant yet another doting kiss on your body, This time in the space between your bare breasts. You felt him begin to push into you. He managed the entirety of his length, before pulling himself almost all the way out again. You noticed how he looked down, admiring the sheen of your blood now coating his member. He quickly snapped his hips back into you again, and began assuming a steady pace of rutting. Your legs found themselves wrapping around him, your ankles cross sectioning across his taught upper back. You wanted to tell him it felt good, but the most you could manage was a weak moan.
That seemed to set something off within him. He lunged over you, enveloping your entire body with his own. He planted one hand on the towel beneath you, firmly beside your head. The other found itself groping a t*t, clawing over it to pinch your hard nipple, surrounding the ar*ola with petals of red. His pace was raw and piercing, but the slight discomfort you felt was laced with a more intense pleasure.
You heard him groan. “-god.. You feel so good. Fucking you like this.. It’s just so.. primal.” He was lightly scraping his nails against you, tracing trails of scarlet down your body. You understood what he meant by that perfectly. The way he was looking down at you, almost slavering at the lips at your vulnerable form, like some wild animal lost in it’s lust.
The feeling of it, the sounds of it. It was also so expl*cit. Yet so gratifying. 
You lost yourself, allowing Yuta to abuse your lower half as he pleased, even matching your hips to his punishing motions. The l*wd squelching noises as he fucked into your excessive wetness, the way he played with your sensitive nipple at the same time, your entire being yearning into his ministrations. 
“I-I’ve always dreamt of this, (Name)-chan” You were too lost in a fucked out haze to really respond, humming lightly as you stroked the arm gripping your breast. His pace got even quicker then, rougher. His form that was already entirely draped over yours weighed down on you with even more pressure, the slap of his bucking hips against your buttox resounding loudly. It’s all too much, your legs weak when you cream his c*ck, a wave of release gushing out of you as your heat throbs wildly.
Your limbs go weak as you reel from the org*sm, your walls spasming around Yuta as he continued his bucking.
Yuta’s gaze rests on your dazed expression, his dark eyes settling over you. “You needed my c*ck didn't you?” He moves the hand that was on your bre*st to caress over your face.  “Desperately. I know you did.” 
You felt Yuta’s pace get rougher, losing it’s steady tempo as he chases closer to his climax. He thrusts into you heartily a final time before his release spills into you, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm out slowly and tenderly. He remains inside for sometime after, rubbing your hips with his thumb as he admires the mixture of c*m and blood streaming out of your hole and cascading down his dick. 
“Beautiful.”
He looks to your face now, smiling gently. 
“So, do you feel better now, (Name)?”
1K notes · View notes
angstyaches · 3 years
Note
“i just need a minute, i-i’m okay.” with Claudette and Autumn where Claudette feels nauseous while spending the day with Autumn but doesn't want to say anything? (You can decide if she throws up or not) (Also this is my first time requesting something so sorry if I'm missing anything! I like Claudette and want to see more of them!)
Thank you so much for requesting Claudette!! This made me so happy, and I had a lot of fun coming up with the story. I really hope you enjoy!
Side note: Claudette uses a combination of she/her and they/them pronouns. If anyone has any feedback on how I've written this (Is it easy to read? Could you always understand which character I was talking about?), I'd really appreciate it!
Word Count: 2,801
CW: stomach ache, nausea, heat, food mention, emeto, platonic caretaking.
_
“Jayden, did you take my sunscreen from the bathroom?”
Jayden didn’t look up from his phone as he squeezed past, edging towards the kitchen in his underwear and dressing gown. “Dunno. Maybe.”
Claudette shut their eyes, reaching for a grain of zen, and finding only more of the same sick, swirling discomfort in the pit of their stomach. “Well, I need it, so could you go and check?”
After a withering look, Jayden huffed in annoyance and stomped back to his bedroom.
Claudette pulled on a light cardigan over her tank top and denim short-shorts, more for the skin coverage than the warmth. Layers were best on days like this. Considering the light stomach ache she was already battling this morning, excessive sun exposure wasn’t going to do any favours.
“Here you go, your highness.” Jayden passed Claudette the bottle of sunscreen. It’d taken him all of ten seconds to locate it, apparently. “Where you off to, anyway?”
“The zoo,” Claudette said, dropping the sunscreen into her shoulder bag. “It’s my friendship anniversary with Autumn. We go every year to commemorate the day we met.” She scowled at the blank look on Jayden’s face. “I know for a fact that I’ve told you about this.”
Jayden rolled his eyes. “Oh, shit, yeah, you’d think I’d remember something as important as a friendship anniversary.”
“Maybe you’d get it if you had any friends for longer than a few months at a time,” Claudette mumbled. She took out her phone to check for any updates from Autumn, but also to hide from the guilt of making such a harsh jab. Jayden was a dick, but Claudette didn’t usually rise to his taunts. This weird nausea was throwing her off.
There were no messages on Claudette’s phone, but at that moment, there was a ping from the apartment’s intercom. Claudette jogged over to the door – prancing to avoid tripping on a new pack of toilet rolls and an abandoned Penney’s bag in the hallway – and pressed the button.
“Be right down,” they said into the mic, before turning to grab her shoes. Sturdy black sandals with comfortable straps. It’d be a walking-heavy day.
Her throat burned from the simple action of stooping over to secure the straps. Claudette straightened up, squinted, and pressed a fist to their mouth to stifle a sudden wet belch. She pressed a hand against her stomach and tried to remember what she’d eaten yesterday that could have upset it this much, but got side-tracked as Jayden walked by again, skulking back to his bedroom with a bowl of cereal.
“Enjoy your sad date,” he called out.
“Enjoy dying alone.” Claudette flinched and closed her eyes as she pulled her shoulder bag across her torso. “Sorry, Jay, didn’t mean that!”
He didn’t reply, so he was either ignoring her, or already had headphones on. Either way, Claudette sighed and headed for the door.
Maybe they could convince Autumn to do something different today. They’d both been to the zoo so many times, plus Claudette was starting to question how they felt, ethically, about the concept of animal confinement for human entertainment. An afternoon at a coffee shop or the bowling alley might be gentler on their body, too.
They just hoped Autumn wouldn’t be too disappointed.
-
“Good morning, chickadee!” Autumn exclaimed from the bottom of the steps. She waved and did a little half-spin, making the hem of her white and orange floral dress sway above her knees.
“Morning, lady,” Claudette said. They stopped in their tracks as Autumn held out a hand, silently commanding them to stop.
The smile that broke out across Autumn’s face revealed that she had a plan. Or, perhaps, a scheme.
In her other hand was a fresh Moleskine notebook, and she had a finger curled inside to save the page she was using. She wasn’t exactly trying to hide it, but also wasn’t yet trying to reveal the fact that she’d painted Claudette’s name, along with the number 10, onto the front cover.
Uh oh.
“I have written, for you, my darling Claudette, ten poems,” Autumn revealed. “One for each year I’ve spent with you by my side.”
“Oh, my god, A,” Claudette muttered, feeling utterly emasculated. They had gotten Autumn a keychain on Etsy as an anniversary present. A keychain. They hadn’t even gift-wrapped it themself; she’d paid the seller to do it before shipping.
“I will read you each one in a location that’s special to our friendship. Most of them are at the zoo, obviously, but…”
Claudette’s stomach dropped.
“The first location…” Autumn gestured neatly to the bottom of the steps, where she was standing. “… is right here, outside your building, where I stumbled up drunk and threw stones at the wrong window, and royally ticked off the nice lady who lives two doors from you.”
Despite the nausea that only seemed to have doubled-down since Autumn had revealed her present, Claudette let out an affectionate scoff. That had, indeed, been a formative moment in their friendship.
“The first one’s kind of corny. Actually, they all are, so bear with me.” Autumn laughed and cleared her throat. She lifted the notebook and flipped it open so that she could read from it. “Claudette. C is for the colour you bring to my day. L is for the laughter we share. A is for ambition, forever your forte…”
Claudette was smiling profusely as she listened, but there was a tension in her jaw that couldn’t quite be explained through any positive emotion. Already, the blazing sunshine was making their head spin. Their insides twisted uneasily, churning around the cold coffee and buttered scone they’d eaten for breakfast.
“The first T is for trust, of which you taught me the importance…”
This, Claudette told themself, is what you get for having a best friend who’s so much more thoughtful, creative, and amazing than you.
This, they realised, was going to be a long day.
_
Time felt like jelly for the next chunk of the day.
Claudette rushed to pay for both entrance tickets without really thinking about it, smiling numbly at Autumn’s protests and promise that she would pay for lunch later. There were selfies taken by the duck pond and the elephant house, in which Claudette was smiling, but they had no recollection of even being able to force a smile. Poems were recited to her, and she forgot the words of them almost instantly. She could only pray that the inscription on the front, of her name, meant that the Moleskine notebook would be given to her at the end of the day; it’d be nice to be able to read them later, when she was able to think about something other than the dull, yet clawing, ache in their stomach.
The screech of a wandering peacock felt like a needle being pressed into Claudette’s skull.
“Can we take a break?” they eventually asked, when spots started to obscure their vision. They glanced about, trying not to look too frantic as she scrabbled for some excuse. She and Autumn were passing by one of the park’s three food kiosks, which sold popcorn and ice-cream cones. Claudette absolutely did not feel like snacking, but the prospect of stopping somewhere with seats, shade, and a toilet nearby was good enough to bypass that fact. “Ice-cream?”
“Ice-cream? Now?” Autumn squinted from under her bangs before brushing them away. “You don’t want to wait until Meerkat Cove? We… We always have ice-cream at Meerkat Cove.”
Claudette felt sticky, but not in the regular way one felt when they’d been out in the heat and worked up a sweat; their bones felt heavy, like they’d waded into a pit of tar. They’d certainly waded into the dangerous territory of messing with the tried-and-true schedule. She shifted her weight under the scrutiny of Autumn’s gaze.
“Yes,” Claudette said. “You’re right. Let’s keep going, we’ll –”
“Wait a second, is it – is it the heat?” Autumn lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, as though she was only, just now, acknowledging the weather and temperature. “Should we stand in the shade for a while? I’ll go and get you that ice-cream, if you need to cool down.”
“No, you know what? I’m good. I’m good.”
Autumn half-turned her head as she eyed her friend.
Claudette smiled and raised their eyebrows, as though stretching out as many parts of their face as possible would demonstrate just how fine they were. “Let’s just power on through to Meerkat Cove!”
“Well, no, we won’t be powering through anywhere.” Autumn held up the Moleskine notebook. “I’ve got two poems to read to you before we get there. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”
“Yes.” Claudette forced another smile and eyed the notebook like it was a time bomb. “I’ve got some water in my bag. I’ll sip it while we walk. Lead the way, lady.”
_
Ice-cream was, indeed, eaten at Meerkat Cove, as per tradition. Claudette wrapped up the majority of hers inside some napkins, making it look like she’d eaten more than she had, before throwing it in the bin. Luckily, Autumn was preoccupied enough with photographing the meerkats that she didn’t seem to notice.
There were only a few more stops to make before they left the zoo, and wandered through the park that surrounded it. Claudette wished they could have called it a day already, but part of their tradition was to walk up to the gazebo in the nineteenth-century garden, and then circle back to the gate to the city centre.
Plus, as long as she hadn’t lost count at any point, there was still one more poem left out of the ten that Autumn had promised. Claudette’s feet were clammy in their sandals by now, and the effort of keeping them from slipping around was just one more headache on top of everything else. Another headache was the actual headache that a whole bottle of water had stood no chance against. She couldn’t understand how Autumn still looked fresh as a daisy, even after the two of them had been trekking uphill for about ten minutes.
Claudette was the athletic one out of the pair, and this gentle workout was enough to make them want to black out.
“Time for your last poem, chick,” Autumn revealed as they arrived at the gazebo. She’d already fished the Moleskine out of her bag and was combing through the pages.
A wave of relief – and, directly after, guilt – washed over Claudette. It was less noisy out here, which was helping with the dizziness; besides Autumn’s voice, all they could hear was the birds calling to each other from the trees. She leaned heavily against the banister, but tried to avoid slumping as low as her body wanted to.
Autumn began to read.
Claudette’s stomach began to wobble. It was hard to breathe. Everything was fluctuating so much that nothing seemed real, like this whole scene was playing out inside a snow globe or a tiny TV set, and Claudette was just watching from the outside. Shaking. Spinning. Noisy. Shut up, shut up, make it stop –
“Stop,” she begged. “Just – just stop, stop.”
Several seconds elapsed. Claudette scrambled to get her head back in the present. Autumn was staring right at her, Moleskine shut and fastened with the elastic cord.
“Claude,” she said sternly.
Oh, shit. Fuck. No, no, no, no, no. Had they really just told their best friend to stop reading the beautiful poem she’d written specifically for them? Had they seriously just done that?
“I’m fine, I just – I just need a minute. I’m sorry.” They curled a hand around the railing and turned to face the sloping green space that rolled out from the base of the gazebo. She’d gone to the far side, which overlooked a steep part of the hill, so if they did throw up, the vomit would have much further to fall that if she’d been closer to the entrance. Although, Claudette wasn’t sure if they were closer to vomiting, or bursting into tears from the guilt of telling Autumn to shut up. “I’m so sorry, A, I’m sorry.”
“Calm down, chick,” Autumn cooed. She stood next to Claudette, laying a hand on the small of their back. “Hey. Why didn’t you tell me you felt this bad?”
Claudette would have thought it was obvious, that she didn’t want to spoil Autumn’s plan for the day, but they weren’t given a chance to explain anyway. Their jaw shuddered open with a gurgle, ejecting a spray of sludge that tasted, in equal parts, like vanilla ice cream, bile, and coffee. Her stomach had concocted the world’s worst affogato.
Thick locks of hair began slipping over the railing, dangling dangerously close to the streams and strings of stomach contents that fell from her lips. Claudette almost had to give up on holding the railing, in favour of protecting their hair from getting sticky, but Autumn beat her to it.
“It’s okay,” Autumn whispered. “Do what you have to do.”
As though her stomach had heard and understood, Claudette retched again, bringing up a huge wave of sick this time. Determined to be empty, their belly clenched over and over again, until all it could do was rumble and churn in hollow distress. Their muscles were suddenly shuddering, shivering, spasming as though the air temperature had just dropped.
“Mmmph.” They let their eyes flutter shut, enjoying the gentle movements of Autumn’s fingers as she pried her hair back from her face, gradually weaving it into a fishtail braid. Their throat was scratchy when they spoke. “Sorry I told you to shut up.”
Autumn chuckled. “You didn’t use those words.”
“Oh.” Claudette didn’t reveal that, in the moment, they’d meant to. “I still feel like an ass for ruining our day.”
“You feel bad?” Autumn exclaimed. “What about me, dragging you around in 27-degree weather when you’re feeling sick?”
“I should have told you sooner.”
“I should have noticed!”
Claudette grunted under her breath. “Are we seriously competing for who gets to feel worse right now? Because I think I –” They paused, squeezing their eyes shut as a hiccup pinched them behind the rib and sent up a wet belch. They didn’t have time to cover their mouth. “I think I’ll win, lady.”
“You’re right. Sorry.” Autumn slipped a hand further up Claudette’s back, moving in a smooth, narrow circle. “You win. This round.”
“Huh.” Claudette pressed their lips together, miserably swirling their tongue back and forth, before leaning forward to spit over the railing. Victory had never tasted so vile.
“You ready to go?” Autumn asked. “I’ll come back to your apartment with you, if you want company. We can put on pyjamas and watch a movie.”
“I think I need another minute.” Claudette sighed, folding their arms on the railing and rolling their forehead gently against the crook of their elbow. Her stomach still fluttered with nausea every time she tried to open her eyes. “Were you, by any… urp, ugh – by any chance, thinking about Grease?”
Autumn gasped softly. “That’s a great idea. Because it was the first show we ever saw together?”
“Mmm.” Claudette broke into a weak excuse for a smile. Without lifting their head or opening their eyes, she reached down towards the clasp of her shoulder bag. “Look – look in there. Your present’s in there. Yellow packaging.”
“Okay…” Autumn took a moment, gently rummaging through the contents of Claudette’s bag. Finally, there was the rustling of paper. “This? This is for me?”
“Yep.”
“It’s – it’s really more orange than yellow.”
Claudette would have rolled her eyes if not for the certainty that it would cause their nausea to spill over again. “Yeah, orange, whatever.”
The paper rustled some more as Autumn wrestled with the packaging. She let out another soft gasp. “The rules are, there ain’t no rules – Claude, oh my god! I love it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I am putting it on my keys right this second. Ugh, this is so cute. Thank you!”
A hollow sigh escaped Claudette’s throat. “It’s not exactly ‘ten poems for ten years’, but –”
“Would you stop? This is lovely.” There was a gentle nudge of pressure against Claudette’s hip as Autumn leaned against them, curling one arm around their waist. “I love you, chick. Happy anniversary.”
“Love you, lady.” Claudette inhaled slowly and pushed the air back out through pursed lips, testing the effect it on their stomach. So far, so good. “I’m ready for my last poem now.”
“You are? Are you sure?”
Claudette nodded. “My ego could use some inflating right about now.”
Autumn stepped away again with a gentle clap of her hands. “Amazing. Let me start again from the top.”
48 notes · View notes
angsty-omi · 3 years
Text
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arms tonite
fuckboy!atsumu miya x fem!reader
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genre: angst, unrequited love,
cw: suggestive content, swearing, heartbreak
word count: 1.5 k
Different girl every night and no repeats; that was the rule of law Atsumu Miya lived by. Whether it was Asians, Whites, or Black girls he didn’t discriminate. If they had a beating heart and a pussy then he was set. Hearing about these conquests as his best friend, really made you think ‘wow who’s the poor that let Atsumu put his dick in that night?’ And as you would find it, soon enough it’d be you.
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Media portrayal of college students, especially in movies, falsely portrayed college students and gave unrealistic ideas of how they live. These media outlets give impractical ideas of what college students are- intense party seekers, people who have all the time in the world, or just lazy nonworking students who revolve everything around their social lives. This was, by all means not true.
You, and many other diligent college students, can attest to this. The heavy number of finals and research papers due would soon drown you in your sleep. To prevent you from feeling overwhelmed, you always went to him. The one person who could talk your ear off, which though annoying, kept your mind off things, Miya Atsumu. See, Atsumu had the ultimate college experience. The ones that occurred on screen, the ‘intense party seeking’ events where somehow your invite was always lost in the mail. Every Wednesday, you’d always fit him into your schedule for brunch, which mostly consisted of him talking about the ‘new freshman babes’ at the Inarizaki Frat House, and you lived vicariously through him, not because you were envious of his lifestyle, rather, you were just interested in what could’ve been. 
“Did you get that Y/N?” Your thoughts were interrupted.
“U-uh, yeah! Of course, I did.” You tried playing it off, but Atsumu could see right through you. He knew all your mannerisms, for example, when you bite your lip, it’s a sign that you’re prepared for a big change or if you handball your T-Shirt, you’re feeling insecure. He could tell you had something weighing in on you, but he decided to ignore your blatant lie and wait for you to tell him.
“So, are you gonna tell how you’ve been doin’?” He lightly asked. 
“Yeah, uh life has been hard for me… I guess. It’s just that- with all these finals I am feeling so overwhelmed,” you buried your face in your hands to attempt forgetting about school. Knowing Atsumu, he would just drown out your sorrow, or so you thought. You continued, “I can’t eat, sleep, or you know-,” not even acknowledging the fact you just referred about your inability to get off. Atsumu became was suspiciously quiet. 
“What,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Nothing, Nothing,” he shook his head, chuckling.
 “No, seriously what’s so funny?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Ya’ reeeaaaallly want to know?”
“I said yes already, just spit it out,” you irritated with anticipation. 
“I could help your little issue down there,” Atsumu grinned. Studying? When has Atsumu Miya ever wanted to study with you? The only reason he got into this school was because  he was a D1 athlete. Unless, he turned a new leaf and he chose a path where you don’t slap a ball back and forth because quite frankly you thought that it was risky caree- Oh. That little issue. “You’ve got to be kidding, I would never,” you felt offended. It wasn’t that he was ugly, it was quite the opposite. He had a charming personality, while also being built like a Greek God, and with a face like that it’s no wonder these girls fall for him. However, you felt too prideful to sleep with him. Sure, you may have some underlying feelings for him that you shut down deep inside, but you didn’t want to be treated like a human toy. So, that thought was always out of the question.  
“Never say n-” He was interrupted with his corny ringtone.
“Hello?... Yeah, I’m free, right now… Alright, see you then.” 
Atsumu always did this, it was like clockwork. He’d bail on you when you clearly were in distress and he could not even prioritize time to listen. He even, left you with the check. Sure, he’d Venmo you afterwards, but it still hurt nonetheless. On the walk back to your dorm, your thoughts were full of cursing Atsumu out for always bailing on you. Holding it in for so long only lasted you so much before you exploded. 
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That night, Atsumu came over, not even expecting your wrath. 
An hour in, and he still couldn’t understand your argument. “Atsumu, if you could just.. I don’t know- not bail on me? Cause you know, it’s common courtesy!” You exclaimed. 
“Dude, it was literally just a few times, I don’t know why you’re getting so upset?”
“Upset? Upset? Upset is an understatement. How would you feel if I dropped you for some dick?”
“Like that would ever happen. C’mon, Y/N, you’re acting like my girlfriend and I’m uncomfortable.” He blurted, frustrated that this argument has lasted almost two hours. He just rejected you, and you didn’t even get the chance to even address those feelings. 
“Get out.”
“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I don’t care, get out.” You wiped a treacherous tear from your eye. You opened the door, and gestured him to leave. But, he just stood there. Moving over to him in tears, you tried to push him out. Your measly arms were incomparable to his toned abs that he’s built since high school. He grasped your arms, and for a moment you could feel his padded thumb, wiping your cheek. Your faces were only a few inches away. This was your chance to get a taste of him, before he turned into a stranger. You leaned in his lips.
The lack of return made your heart drop. You let go and rambled with apologies,“I-I’m so sorry. Look, I-” He shut you up with another kiss, more passionate than yours. “I told ya’ I could fix that little issue of yours.”
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The morning after, you woke up with your body aching in pain. Drool all over your chin, and in disgust, you wiped your mouth and skimmed your calendar. ‘The biomedical final isn’t at 10, it’s at 8-’ whispering to yourself. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Then, you slowly gazed at your alarm clock, ‘7:57 AM’ it read. 
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” you screamed to yourself. Without thinking, you dashed out the door and sped to the testing center. At the entrance, your professor met eyes with you. “Testing entry is closed, I thought you were better than this, Y/N.” Scolding you up and down. I only missed the final by a couple of minutes, why is she shunning me? You thought. But before you could continue, you looked down. There you were, love marks all over, in your panties and an oversized T-shirt to top it off. 
You rushed into your dorm, to find the vampire who did this to you. The universe was seemingly against you once more, because on your way over to your bedroom, you slipped on a textbook. How ironic. The loud slam woke him up, making him sit upright. “Oh my God Y/N are you okay?” He said with a concerned look on his face.
“Why the fuck are you still in my bed?” 
“Well if you wanna know the details-” He smirked, “No no no, I’m okay,” you interrupted him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what went on. 
You felt blood drip on your upper lip. Both of you just stared in shock. Immediately, he swiped you up, bridal style, and plopped you onto the sink. He stood in between your legs, soaking your nose with numerous amounts of toilet paper. There was a comfortable silence in the air. You know, Atsumu was quite beautiful with his mouth closed. The way the sunlight accentuated his sharp features, with his eyes reflecting a shade of light hazel. In an impulse, you pecked his lips and to your surprise, he reciprocated. 
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It’s been a month since you’ve been hooking up and it’s become your new normal. As a small treat, you wanted to do surprise.
Prior to this dynamic, as best friends you always had a spare key, which his twin brother made sure of because Atsumu was forgetful. As tacky as it was, you were wearing a trench coat, that covered your bright red two-piece lingerie underneath. Silently twisting the knob, you walked into to his bedroom. The apartment was still clean, signaling that he wasn’t home. In which, gave you enough time to position yourself on his bed. After many awkward attempts of seductive positions, you chose the cross-over leg at the edge of his bed, which accentuated your hips. 
You heard his front door open, and his loud voice gave you the signal. You felt relaxed, but it wasn’t until you heard another voice. High-pitched and fruity, it was one of those voices you could tell it’d belong to a pretty girl. You panicked, and mentally scolded yourself for pushing Atsumu to go with a minimalist aesthetic for his bedroom, which left nowhere to hide for you. The knob was opened slightly, where only he could see you. Eye contact was made, and he immediately slammed the door shut. 
There was a muffled, “Hey! uh- my room is kind of dirty right now. Let’s go over to yours.” And after, hearing the front door shut, you assumed she complied. In awe, you mentally kicked yourself over and over again. You took off your attire immediately walking into your bedroom, it burned your skin with insecurities and embarrassment. So much for putting yourself out there. Although, what hurt the most was the way his eyes were full of disgust when he saw you.
That night, he knocked at your door. You opened it, thinking it was your food.
Your heart was beating rapidly, because just an hour ago you made a whole scheme of routes to take without seeing him. You coyly responded with, “you’re not my DoorDash,” and tried to close the door. But he blocked it.
“We need to talk,” he said in the most serious tone you’ve personally ever heard from him. How could those words scare you when you’re not in a relationship.
“What was that shit you pulled earlier?” He irritated. You felt so small under his gaze.
“I thought it would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. “Nice? That girl was the president of one of the most notorious sororities. She could’ve seen you.” He yelled, continuously blaming you. The way he viewed her, would never be the way he saw you. You were just a friend who needed a favor, not someone he actually wanted to pursue.
“You know what? Fine, my fault. Sorry that I ruined it, sorry that I showed up, sorry that I even planned it, sorry I ever thought that you saw me more than just a skank, sorry I even called you over that night, and finally, sorry for ever loving-” it just slipped out. His eyes widened, “Finish that sentence, Y/N. If I knew-”
“Knew what? Knew that I loved you, you wouldn’t have gotten involved? Yeah, well it’s too late. You know what? Just get out. I never want to see you again, Miya,” you sobbed, tears flowing down your face freely. Pounding your fists against his chest. His immobility gave you a small sliver of hope.
“I’m not ready, Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.” Conflicted, unbeknownst whether he was talking to you or himself. “But we can still be friends.”
That sentence was the nail in the coffin.
“It hurts to even look at you Atsumu.” Your voice cold. For someone that could read you so well, why did he think that would save your relationship? “I’ll.. be on my way then.” He slowly got up, and turned the knob. Selfishly enough, he made one more glance at you. He embraced this last glance. Did you know you were beautiful? Even with snot, running down your nose. Of course, you didn’t look back, you were too focused on biting your lips.
Atsumu’s face went pale. He knew what sign that meant. And the change was him. You were really set on ghosting him. With the door closed and Atsumu leaning on it, he couldn’t help to question why that made a pang in his heart.
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189 notes · View notes
apixrl · 3 years
Text
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MORNING CUDDLES.
eijirou kirishima x fem!reader
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WARNING(S): none
word count: 2.8k
note(s): eiji and his partner call each other love 25/8 and no u cannot tell me otherwise >:(
italian translation - translator !!
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Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.
Your hand snuck its way out from under the duvet, blindly searching for your phone in order to shut off the nuisance that was your alarm. Once you did, you slowly let your eyes drift open and meet the blank canvas of the ceiling above.
The sun was peeking through the blinds off to the left side, causing streaks of light to form on your bedroom walls and bed itself. None of them obstructed your vision luckily, there was nothing worse than lying in bed only to have the sun blind you. A light snore interrupted your tiredness and caused your eyes to open wider, directing them off to the right to meet that of your boyfriend, Eijirou.
As per usual, he looked at peace during his state of slumber. His mouth hung slightly open to reveal his iconic sharpened teeth as snores broke through them. His usual gelled up hair was now ironed down to structure his face and practically conceal it with the amount there. It swept over one of his eyes - though didn't stop the scar on his right one peeking through. The rest of his hair was mushed up between his cheek and the pillow his head lay on.
You smiled at the sight, losing yourself in his handsomeness for a moment before leaning forwards to peck his forehead softly. You then pulled back the covers on your side, making an effort (reluctantly) to sit yourself up and swing your legs over the end of the bed. Just as you were about to find the means to stand, something tugged you back causing you to gasp. It was only when Eijirou's voice hit your ear that you processed what happened.
"Morning," The redhead let out, voice hoarse and deeper than usual to signal the classic case of morning croak, something you always loved to hear first thing. An arm snaked around your front to pull you back against Eijirou's abdomen. With a little smile, you turned your face to the love of your life, who was tiredly gazing at you.
"Good morning," You faintly sang. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mhhm," Eijirou replied, using his spare hand to reach up and rub his waking eyes at the same time as he released a mighty yawn. "You?"
"Like a baby," Was your answer as Eijirou allowed his hand to gently graze your forearm affectionately. You hummed softly, not wanting to move one bit from the comfort. If anything, you would have liked to have remained under his touch the entire day. Something about his subtle physical signs of adoration brought you head over heels for him, even more so than you already were. But you knew it couldn't last forever. So after a minute of sweet quiet, you proceeded to shift forwards to try and get up. Only to find the grip on you tighten and a disgruntled noise of protest to leave Eijirou's throat.
"Love, I gotta get up," You spoke and turned back to him with a sigh. "I've got that meeting at 10, remember?"
"No," Was the only thing you received back from your partner. Eijirou looked up gently into your E/C eyes. "Five more minutes?"
At first, you went to say a flat no, mainly because you'd expected him to act like this despite knowing full well you were going out. But you eventually concluded on a compromise to try and be smart about it. Fingers playing with the sheets of your bed, you spoke up once more.
"How about you let me go grab us a hot drink and then five more minutes?" It seemed to do the trick. Eijirou paused in thought before gently mumbling an 'okay', the grip on you loosening to give you the freedom to stand up. Once you stood upright you looked back to Eijirou, who was following your every move through tired red eyes.
"I'll come back in sec okay?"
"You better,"
This clingy side to Eijirou usually came out on the first day or two of him having time off work. Since he was a Pro-Hero he could sometimes be working days on end without a break, so moments like this the pair of you really treasured to maintain a healthy relationship. You smiled during your trip to the kitchen, his touch still on your mind as you started to prepare yourself a steaming F/H/D and a simple black coffee for Eijirou.
On your way back to the bedroom you made a pit stop to go to the toilet and somewhat freshen yourself up. All you did was brush your hair and wash your face (you planned to do make-up later) and then you were heading back to Eijirou. You opened the door with your foot since both hands were occupied by mugs.
"I told you I wasn't going to be long,"
"It was too long," His voice came from the bundle of covers, a head poking out from under as you saw a flash of a toothy grin. It was more tired than usual but still held the same passion nonetheless.
"Somebody's impatient,"
"Whatever. Now let me use you as a pillow," Eijirou uttered, waiting for you to put the drinks down and to get into bed. Pulling back the cream covers of your shared bed you were soon engulfed by arms as a head found refuge on your chest.
"Happy?" You said with a laugh. Eijirou nodded and let his eyes close, listening to the sound of your heartbeat against his cheek with a soft grin. He then felt himself get even more at home when your fingertips guided themselves to play with the ends of his hair.
"Yes,"
---
"Come on, Eijirou... I need to go get ready," You whined, rolling your eyes at the silence you received back. Only the soft and light pecks of kisses landing on your shoulder blade signalled Eijirou's distraction, almost pretending to be deaf for his own personal benefit. You rolled back in order to make him stop, looking up at Eijirou in protest. At first, he sent you a nearly offended gaze at daring to make such a movement, claiming he wasn't finished and had intentions of carrying on. Though slowly his jaw altered to a pout, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear.
"Do you have to go?" Eijirou mumbled and leaned down to peck your lips.
"Yes, I do," You answered.
"Can't you just call in sick or something?"
"I already did that three weeks ago... so probably not,"
"Please?"
"I said I can't. Now get up, lazy bones,"
You went to get up once more, this time forcing yourself through the gripping fingers and hands of Eijirou to escape the bed. When you came out successful you released a small laugh of triumph much to Eijirou's dismay. It was there you walked to your closet and took the clothes hanging over the door on a clothing hanger, looking back at Eijirou whose face had now emerged further from under the covers to watch you.
"Is it even an important meeting, love?" Eijirou said, eyes following as you shuffled back to the bed and put the clothes at the bottom. You released a sigh as you turned to put the clothing hanger back in the closet, not aware of the cheap move Eijirou made when you weren't looking and instead answered his question.
"Not really? But because I missed the last one - no thanks to you, I think it'd be better I should get to this one," Wandering back to the bed, slipping off the shirt you'd stolen off Eijirou the night before as you did, Eijirou rolled his eyes and undermined your words.
"So... miss this one and go to the next,"
"As I recall you said that last time and promised you wouldn't say it when it occurred again... but here we are," There was a little smirk on your face when you caught him rolling his eyes, and in response, you playfully tossed the shirt you'd had on at the redhead. Eijirou snickered and managed to catch it before it hit his face, going to crumple it into a ball and place it next to him.
"You throw like a girl,"
"And you scream like one, doofus,"
"I'm not a doofus... doofus,"
Eijirou couldn't help but smirk in amusement at you, his face lighting up all the more into a bright beam when he heard a laugh release on your part. You were just finishing buttoning up your collar shirt as Eijirou watched, arms crossing over his chest. He cocked his head back against the headrest as well as to the side in thought.
"I ever tell you that you look good in shirts like that?" The redhead stated, receiving a glare that had formed on your face.
"Don't you get any ideas,"
"Wasn't suggesting any, just stating the obvious," He raised his arms in defence as you sat down on the bed by his legs, reaching for the blazer.
"That's also something you said last time and look what happened there - wait where's my...?" You were one sleeve through your blazer when you noticed that one of your pieces of clothing was missing. The navy blue pencil skirt that matched your top half to be more specific. You looked behind and around you, and also to the closet thinking you forgot to grab it with everything else, proceeding to frown in thought.
You swore you hung it up there and -
With a heavy exhale, you felt your body twist around and turn to a particularly quiet Eijirou sitting behind you.
His expression read it all like he was trying to be both obvious and mysterious all in one go in order to get you to question him. It most definitely worked, a hand meeting your hip as you stood upright and quirked a quizzical brow.
"Eiji?"
"Hm? What is it, dearest?"
"Can I have my skirt back please?"
"What do you mean? I don't have your skirt," His growing smirk and amusement in his eyes betrayed his words, refusing to make eye contact with you in a playful manner you'd seen countless times before.
"Okay, so where is it then?"
"I don't know," He innocently shrugged. "Maybe the skirt fairy came and took it,"
"The skirt fairy," You repeated, disbelief laced in your voice.
"Yep," He said through a laugh. "I don't know what to tell you, love. There can't be any other explanation,"
"Just give me back my skirt before I get behind on time,"
"I don't have it,"
"Yes, you do,"
"No, I don't,"
"Don't make me jump you, bitch,"
"I honestly wouldn't com- oof!"
Before Eijirou could finish his sentence, he only just managed to catch you when you pounced at him without remorse. Luckily he just managed to protect himself and readjusted your intended position, victoriously smirking up at you and pointing a finger.
"Hah! Not this time!"
"I hate you sometimes,"
"No, you don't. You love me,"
"I swear to god -," You let out, arms crossing over your chest. Eijirou had sat you on top of him, legs on either side of him as he remained under the covers. "Can I please just have my skirt back?"
"You mean the one that's under the sheets by my feet?" He blankly stated, letting his hands rest themselves on your hips quite comfortably. He couldn't help but laugh at your less than amused expression.
"Why can't you just let me get ready?"
"I'm not stopping you... I'm just making it more difficult,"
"Educate me on how?"
"Well the only way to get your skirt is to get back into bed... and if you get back into bed I'm not letting you get back out,"
"You're really being this persistent, hm?"
"Maybe a little more than intended,"
You hopelessly sighed, looking at the ceiling with a mental cry of both impatience and leisure. The inner want to go to your wardrobe and pull out a fresh skirt was the easy way out, yes, but the temptation of the game Eijirou intended to play was getting to you more than expected. That and you knew he wouldn't let you simply get off him, the grip on your waist not only implying endearing affection.
Eijirou raised his voice, reeling you back to his attention. Despite your annoyance, you did make an effort to admire his features. From his loose hair to his fixed jawline where the tint of a smirk riddled with confidence rested. The pretty glow in his carmine gaze drew you in each time without a fault. He was so undeniably attractive, no doubt about it.
"You know what sounds fun?"
"What?" Partly having a sense of what was to leave his lips.
"If you...," He paused as he subtly cocked his head at you. "Stayed in bed and cuddled with me all morning," Another pause. "Because I haven't seen you in four or five days and I miss you,"
"But we watched a movie and spent some time together last night knowing I was going out today,"
"Yeah but... you're cute on a morning,"
"Opposed to other times when I'm not?" It was Eijirou's turn to send you a little glare in protest before he returned to his pleading nature.
"You're cute all the time,"
Yet another few seconds of quiet.
"Just - stay with me today? And do your meeting-thingy tomorrow?"
"You, Eijirou Kirishima, are going to be the death of me," Leaning down to rest your forehead on Eijirou's shoulder whilst releasing a long groan from the back of your throat. Maybe not so great of an idea since that allowed him to wrap you right into his grasp, you held yourself there briefly as he allowed his fingertips to mess with your hair.
"Probably," Eijirou mumbled softly, tilting his head against yours as he once again let his touch wander. The unexpected cuddle definitely didn't go unnoticed as you pondered in your position, practically ready to fall asleep when Eijirou started to rub up and down your back. Like a moth to a flame, he had you wrapped around his finger, knowing that in the end, he was always going to get his own way. Of course, in other circumstances, he'd usually let you win. But not when it came to morning cuddles.
Definitely not when it came to morning cuddles.
As if waiting for you to talk, Eijirou stared into your strands of H/C hair whilst inhaling the scent of coconut from the shampoo you used the evening prior. He expectantly caressed your hip, his final attempt to win you over confidently coming to a climax at the word that exited your mouth.
"Fine,"
You could practically feel the smirk against the back of your head as Eijirou's touch became all the more prominent and rewarding. He let one of his arms extend out to grab your phone, handing it over to you as you hesitantly sat up with a hotness to your cheeks and found the contact of your workplace.
Eijirou simply watched you the whole time, taking you all in like he was casting gaze upon you for the first time. No matter how many times that happened, he still managed to find you all the more beautiful. He ran a hand through his flattened hair and exhaled merrily as he let your voice sink into his ears, watching the smile on your face grow as you caught him looking.
"Yeah - Again, I'm really sorry I can't make it, Eijirou caught something whilst working and he's bound to the bed cause' of it," You held up crossed fingers in hopes you wouldn't sound like you were lying, glancing at your boyfriend who appeared to chuckle.
And yet again your lie went unnoticed. The call was over in seconds, tossing your phone to the empty side of the bed.
"Why'd you say I was sick?"
"Because if I said it was me they'd probably ask about the last time you forced me to stay off, and how often I'm apparently unwell,"
"Right,"
"But, it looks like you got your way," You said, going to change out the white shirt to put your pyjama shirt back on, placing the work clothes to the bottom of the bed as Eijirou waited patiently.
"Come," Was all he said once you looked back at him, opening his arms for you to sink into. Which you did, reaching that comfortable position within his grasp as though you belonged there. Except this time, Eijirou directed your face towards his, pulling your lips to his in one smooth addicting manner that you felt butterflies in your stomach for.
In the meantime your drinks were disregarded as the clock ticked on, the pair of you forgetting their presence on the bedside table. The steam soon dissipated to nothing the cooler the fluids got.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you,"
He could sense the smile that formed on your lips.
"I love you too,"
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queenofallhobos · 3 years
Text
One Night
This is a little piece I wrote with one of the characters from White Line by @youlightmeupfinn (A fanfic of a fanfic!)
I just felt like Alec could use a little lovin', and this is set about two months before he makes his appearance in White Line. You don't need to have read it to understand what's happening here, but you really should because it is AMAZING! I did put the link above so skedaddle over there and enjoy the awesomeness that is my friend.
Just a warning, there is some smut in here, and mentions of one of the horrors of working in food service or retail or any job that has a public restroom.
It was just one of those days where Murphy’s Law was being proven left and right. Phone charger got chewed through by the dog in the night so the alarm didn’t go off, wake up already half an hour late to work and get stuck in traffic for another hour. This of course made the boss lady so happy, another half hour before I was finally sent out to the front where I would be playing hostess today instead of my usual serving gig. This was so I wouldn’t be ‘rewarded’ with tips.
After a nasty lunch rush where I was yelled at by 4 tables for not seating them fast enough, and 3 of the servers for not putting enough people in their section when they wanted them, I was relieved by the afternoon hostess and sent to clean the bathrooms. This was a job that was feared by any who have worked in food service or retail… or really in any place that had a public restroom. For once the women’s bathroom wasn’t too bad, just the usual mystery wet spots on the floor. Then I went into the men’s bathroom…
I had taken care of the handicap stall and pushed open the door to the center stall, my stomach immediately threatening to send up the coffee I had inhaled earlier. “Why…” I whined, looking at the paint job some ‘kind’ patron had left. Just above the toilet was a brown circle, a large smile drawn with a finger and… I gagged when I saw the eyes were pieces of corn.
“Everything alright, darling?”
Whirling around, I saw a man with a perfect jawline, kind large brown eyes, and perfectly styled brown hair. His suit was perfectly tailored and most definitely expensive. When I didn’t immediately respond it took two strides for his long legs to bring him to my side.
“It’s nothing. I’ll just close this up and get out of your way.” I gasped practically slamming the stall door closed and twisting the lock.
I didn’t wait for a response, just ran out of there like my pants were on fire. After thoroughly washing my hands and informing my manager of the shitty situation in the mens room I was told to just go home since there was only 3 minutes of my shift left anyway.
Unfortunately, I didn’t see the handsome man from the bathroom on my walk to my busted old Honda, which was probably for the best as I had pulled my shoulder length hair from its ponytail and with the help of some humidity was looking very much like a lion with a bad hair day.
Once I had taken Ernie, my lab/pit mix, out to use the bathroom I flung myself onto my couch and fired up Disney+. It was time to let Lilo and Stitch chase my blues away.
I had just added the cheese to my noodles when I heard the lock on my front door click. I had all of two seconds to wonder who was here before the whirling dervish, also known as my best friend Ginny, pranced in with out bothering to close the door behind her.
“Kaaaaaaaaaacie! Hop in the shower you sexy bitch, we’re going OUT tonight.” She sang looking around until she spotted me in the kitchen. “Put down the mac n’ cheese Sloane, I’ll wrap it while you get cleaned up.”
“I’m hungry, this is the first thing I will be eating today, Ginny.” I whined trying to hold it away from her despite her longer arms and height.
“We don’t have time for you to eat, you eat a granola bar and drink your dinner at that new club, Cameo, that just opened a month ago downtown.” She argued, easily pulling the bowl from my hands.
“Have you fallen and hit your head recently Gin? We are poor and from what I heard that place is-“
“Jared just got a job there and he’s working the door tonight. Called me and said he wanted to see me so he’d let the two of us in for free.” She grinned.
I wasn’t as into the whole club scene, but it made Ginny happy and honestly, as long as she was around I was guaranteed to have a good time. With her charm and good looks she was typically able to dupe some poor soul into supplying out drinks all night. Thinking he was going to get lucky with my smokin’ hot BFF, he had no problem supplying her fat friend with a few drinks as well. Of course, we would both suddenly have to go to the bathroom and then we were gone.
“This place better be worth all the hype.” I grumbled making my way into the bathroom and showering quickly. When I emerged from the steam a few minutes later it was to see Ginny sitting in front of my body length mirror touching up her makeup, already dressed in a flashy purple dress. Sitting on my bed, laid out nicely was a deep blue strapless and form fitting number. The same dress Ginny had gotten me for my birthday that I intended to never wear.
“Get your hair dry and while I style it you can do your makeup.” Ginny ordered not bothering to look up at me.
“Why is that thing out of my closet?” I asked, glaring at the offending garment. “Because I know you don’t have some crazy thought about making me squeeze my fat ass in that thing.” She shot me a dirty look when I used the ‘F’ word in relation to myself. “Gin, we talked about this. It is a beautiful dress and I will wear it around the house for your eyes only, but I just don’t think that is the kind of dress a size 20 should be wearing.”
“You will put that dress on, or so help me Kace, I will bring Brittany instead.” She threatened.
“You wouldn’t dare.” I gasped glaring at her. When she didn’t say anything, I took my towel off and snapped it at her. “She slept with Greg, while we were together. We swore that hag was dead to us.”
“Fine, that was mean and I’m sorry. But Kacie I just want to see you out on the dance floor in this dress. Just once before I die.” She pouted.
I tried to stay strong, not let her talk me into it, but her puppy eyes were irresistible.
“I feel like a busted can of biscuits with a wedgie.” I complained as we approached the front door of Cameo. “Ah! Watch the hair you heathen!” I cried when she smacked me upside my head.
Jared chuckled at us, having heard most if not all of the interaction. “The Terrible Two have arrived.” He joked, pulling us in for a bear hug. “Head on in ladies, but first; gimme those keys G.”
After passing her keys to our DD for the night, we entered the loud club. As usual, Ginny stayed with me just long enough to set up home base at a table near the wall, setting her wallet next to mine before disappearing onto the dance floor.
I watched Ginny make her way around the dance floor, gauging who would be her target for tonight. That was when I saw him again, the man from the bathroom.
Apparently, Ginny had seen him too as she danced up to him and after whispering something in his ear, she was turned around with her ass pressed tightly against his groin. Despite not knowing anything about the man, other than how his voice was like sex for my ears, I felt a burst of jealousy.
It wasn’t the first time I’d felt such things toward my friend, she was a short, skinny redhead with a fireball personality and was able to flirt and dance her way into the hearts of any man she so desired… unless he was gay. Even then she easily made friends with them, Jared being the proof of that.
“Kay! This is Alec, he’s in town on business and has kindly offered to buy us a round.” Ginny’s voice snapped me out of my little self-pity party.
My eyes met his warm brown gaze and my breath caught in my throat. “Hi.” I squeaked, grimacing at the look Ginny then shot me. She knew…
“Would you mind keeping Kacie company while I order our drinks?” She asked, sprinting off before Alec could answer her.
“Quite the ball of energy.” He laughed coming around the table and taking a seat next to me. “As she said, I’m Alec.” He said offering his hand.
“Kacie.” I murmured shyly, taking his hand I was surprised when he brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on my wrist. This thong was ruined now…
“It’s a pleasure to formally meet you. I do hope you were not forced to take care of the artwork from this afternoon.” So he did recognize me.
“Nope. My shift was practically over, so happily, that was tasked to someone else.” I told him, hoping my cheeks weren’t as red as I feared.
Holy shit he has a nice smile. “Why weren’t you out there on the dance floor?” He asked, leaning closer to me so I could hear him over the music.
“I don’t dance, my body is not capable of moving in a way that doesn’t resemble a seizure when I try.”
Alec threw his head back and laughed loudly, yup this thong was a goner. “So your friend is the bait, and you’re the prize?”
I looked down at my hands and pursed my lips. “She’s the bait AND the prize, you don’t have to butter me up. I’m not her keeper, she makes her own decisions on who she sleeps with.” I snapped, probably a bit too harshly but this wasn’t the first time some guy had tried to flirt his way into my good graces, thinking Ginny would want my permission to fuck him.
“That’s not what I meant at all, darling.” He sounded confused and placed his hand on my thigh. “Please look at me.” I shook my head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears of frustration and humiliation.
With a sigh his hand disappeared and he stood up. Thinking he was either leaving or putting space between us, I was shocked when my chair moved and he appeared in front of me, kneeling. “I don’t know who made you think otherwise, but believe me when I say I would rather have you pressed against me. Not to discredit your friend, but I do believe you have much more to offer.”
And then his hand was back on my thigh, his eyes clearly asking for permission. Shocked I could only nod slightly, and then his fingers trailed up my leg, slipping under the short dress with ease. The first stroke over my underwear had me spreading my legs just a little wider for easier access. As he moved the fabric aside he placed a soft kiss to the inside of my other thigh, smiling when he discovered just how wet I already was.
“Is this all for me, sweet girl?” He cooed, circling my clit a few times.
My breathing faltered and I let out a low moan as one, and then two of his fingers found my entrance and slid in. All thought was lost as he began moving his fingers inside of me, almost immediately finding that one sweet spot that would have me howling if I wasn’t careful. Then he was on his feet, leaning over me to hide what he was doing to me. “Do you feel just what you’re doing to me?” He asked, bringing my hand to the rock hard monster his pants held back.
I whined and ran my fingers along his length longingly. Would it really be so bad if I just let him have his way with me in the bathroom of the club? Hell I would probably even be alright if he just took me right here.
Then his fingers were gone. “Wha-?” I whined, watching him lick the wetness from his fingers. Then I saw why he had stopped, Ginny was coming toward us carrying three shots.
“This one is on me, so take your shot and then get outta here. You, mister, better treat her right or I’m coming for ya.” Ginny threatened handing a glass to each of us. “Once your on ‘er, stay on ‘er.” She shouted, before we threw our shots back.
As I grabbed my wallet, Ginny took my wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze and a look of pride then snatched up her own wallet and disappeared back onto the dance floor.
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simpingforsoftboys · 4 years
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Moving In With Them
ft. SakuAtsuOsaSuna
G/N Reader
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Thank you so much for the request anon! I spent a few moments just imagining this and omg it’d be a hot mess! Also I added some stuff at the beginning cause I just felt like I had to explain how this was even possible aha-
The Odds of Us All readers- you can consider this a part of the series or just read it as a oneshot! But either way this Y/n can be read as either male or female~
Okay so I HC that Tomas (MSBY) was transferred overseas- so that opened a position for a new middle blocker... and luckily the third Miya in the D1 men’s volleyball scene just so happened to be interested in being transferred... now MSBY has not 2- but 3 Miya’s! Naturally this means Suna-Miya needs to move to Osaka ;) 
Prior to the transfer Suna and Y/n had been living together in a nice apartment in Hiroshima 
Meanwhile SakuAtsuOsa were over in Hirikata (which is in Osaka Prefecture) living together in their own place
SakuAtsu were obviously contracted with MSBY, while Osamu ran a branch of Onigiri Miya in Osaka City (which is abt a 34 or so minute drive according to Google)
Atsumu had heard about Tomas’s sudden interest in moving abroad and had brought the subject up to Suna on the dl
So the three of them had been planning everything so that it was ideal for Suna to be brought over to MSBY 
It wasn’t until it was all finalized in the paperwork that Suna and Atsumu realized they hadn’t told any of their partners or even thought of moving
Are we really surprised though? The both of them weren’t exactly in college prep in high school- and for good reason
ANYWAYS- the twin’s and Sakusa’s home was not big enough for four people
Then they realized you might have to stay in Hiroshima for work
Luckily for them- once they finally brought up the topic with you- it turned out you had actually been offered a promotion, though you needed to transfer to your company’s head quarters in Osaka
Definitely destiny
Oh but you, Kiyoomi, and Osamu were not happy at being left out of the loop for literal MONTHS
Getting the place:
Okay so Hirikata is a small- and I mean S M A L L city, with less than an estimated one million residents
So there’s not many housing options that fit your prerequisites
Because of this ya’ll settle on finding a nice place in Osaka City
Eventually- after much searching- you find a (pretty large) property (because budgets aren’t a thing with ya’ll) that’s just perfect!
Ofc you’re buying it ASAP
It takes a hot minute before you move in though- since everyone wants some work done on the place before ya’ll move in
Osamu insists on having all the kitchen’s appliances replaced with new, state of the art ones (makes sense though, his livelihood is all about food quality)
Your volleyball pro partners (mainly Atsumu and Kiyoomi- Rin’s just content with whatever) are having the basketball gym remodeled into a volleyball one- complete with a mini locker-room-esque washroom area
All Suna cared about was having an in home theatre- complete with a legit snack bar (we love his priorities)
Sakusa had the pool drained and deep cleaned and made sure that the mini beach volleyball court that was set up in the yard had entirely fresh sand
Kiyo also had the toilets replaced + the washer and dryers. And even hired extra (trusted) cleaners to thoroughly clean the bathrooms (because he doesn’t trust any seller to do a good job)
Ya’ll spent hella money on the house and you didn’t even move in yet
Finally moving in:
None of you guys lifted a finger when moving your stuff (much to Osamu and Kiyoomi’s chargin)
This was actually because the guy’s trainers and coaches didn’t want to risk them straining or hurting themselves with heavy lifting
I can’t imagine Suna would actually help lift anything though
So you hired movers
Kiyoomi had ya’ll thoroughly wipe the furniture and stuff once the movers left- hating that he had to let them contaminate his belongings
At least he was polite when they were around... right?
Osamu was not happy when he had to help Atsumu unpack the clothes... esp since majority of it is Tsumu’s
“What the hell is this?” Is something you’d hear from him quite a lot
“I got it at Bo’s party a few years back! Cool huh?” Yeah, Tsumu’s kinda hoarding clothes
“The pits have holes.... and it’s stained with beer- lemme just toss it-”
“NO-”
Gross Atsumu
Suna is helping unbox stuff for the sitting room (fancy ig-) and using his height to put everything on the shelves
Honestly he’s procrastinating and using this time to look through every. single. book. 
Drives you crazy istg
“Rin are yo- seriously? It’s been two hours why are you just sitting on the floor? Nothing’s put away-”
“Look at this it’s from university-” He says, holding up an old yearbook...
It’s because of this, you and Osamu are probably the ones to get the sitting room situated later
Kiyoomi is... probably binge cleaning all the stuff as soon as he pulls them out of the boxes
Yes, he wiped everything before packing it away but what if some disgusting b u g s hitched a ride?
It’s fine if everything’s cluttered on the floor/bed/counter/wherever he’s unboxing stuff atm- at least he knows it’s clean and not dirty
You have to actually be the one to put the stuff away while he wipes- lest he run out of space
It works surprisingly well all things considered
“Oh no...” He’s finally unboxing the cleaning supplies... but he’s out of disinfectant wipes and can’t wipe them down- thus rendering them useless (in his opninion)
“Kiyoomi just... grab the unopened wipes from the box- open it- and use those to wipe the rest of the supplies?” You suggest. Although hesitant he does as told... until he sees something that proves all his fears valid.
“Holy shi- THERE’S A SPIDER! I KNEW IT WOULD FOLLOW US!” He says very loudly, scrambling away from the dead spider AND the supplies
Needless to say you have to make a trip to the store to buy him more wipes- meanwhile one of your other partners have to go pick up and throw away the arachnid
Also while all this is going on- someone (Tsumu actually) has to make sure the bedsheets and blankets are all washed before putting them on the bed for the night (again in case of the bugs)
This is the only thing he doesn’t half ass tbh, since he knows it’s important to Omi-Omi
Ya’ll finish the day with a lovely shower
Well Osamu, Kiyoomi, and you do
The shower in ya’lls bathroom is N I C E and H U G E! Like it’s the type with jets on the floor and walls, plus it has that really nice overhead rain fall like shower head
Atsumu and Rintaro are relaxing in your custom made jacuzzi tub that costed more than a car-
The tub is really awesome too, big enough to fit all five of you comfortably and has powerful jets to massage any knots out 
Rip to the water bill though like that thing’s expensive- on god
Anyway that’s just the first day and daily life promises to be exciting 😭
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astrognossienne · 3 years
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tragic beauty: lupe vélez - an analysis
“I had to play with boys, girls found me too rough.” -  Lupe Vélez  
This is an analysis I’ve wanted to cover for a while for quite a few reasons. Primarily because, in a few ways, I see myself in her and, as such, feel the need to defend her and assert her true legacy: as a pioneer. Which brings me to the main reason I wanted to do this: to correct the scurrilous rumours about her premature death cooked up by a hating ass imbecilic Aquarius whose infamous book doesn’t deserve to be named. So if you want to hear the truth about this lady, read on.
Known as the “Mexican Spitfire”, Latin bombshell Lupe Vélez was (an to an extent, still is) a much-maligned and terribly misunderstood woman. A true Cancer, she was a force of nature and unconsciously antagonized others and made them uncomfortable because of her authenticity to herself and her emotional nature. Born during a storm, she had a naturally stormy personality. She could be hilarious and charismatic one moment, and depressive and vicious the next. Instead of anyone trying to understand her, they just stuck her with the “spicy fiery Latina” stereotype, not knowing or caring what was behind it. The harshness of her life before stardom may explain some of her fearsome, yet fun, personality; she grew up with violent trauma – watching her father kill and almost be killed during the Mexican Revolution. She also is believed to have had undiagnosed bipolar disorder, which would explain her extreme moodiness and outbursts.
One of the first Latina actresses to make an impact in Hollywood, she was subjected to the racist, sexist Hollywood tropes that forever typecasted her—she was called “senorita cyclone,” and the “hot tamale”. The Hollywood press willfully misunderstood Vélez’s sex positivity and consistently portrayed her as a woman who took great pleasure in her body, and indeed, the tempestuous Vélez had numerous affairs, including a particularly torrid one with a young Gary Cooper, and a tumultuous marriage to “Tarzan” star Johnny Weissmuller. But in 1944, at age 36, she found herself pregnant with the child of a little known-actor name Harald Ramond, who would not marry her and this reality made her come undone, and like my other baby Carole Landis, she succumbed to an drug overdose. Her promiscuity, right or wrong, became part of the way her stardom was packaged and promoted. Also, the press naturally compared her to (and pitted her against) Hollywood’s only other female Mexican star—the “high-class” and elegant Dolores Del Rio. The press couldn’t even find sympathy for her even in death and a false story was printed that she drowned in the toilet after vomiting up a spicy Mexican dinner. Her death is parodied and mocked to this day. Again, she’s a true Cancer in the sense that the same imperfections that everyone else has, she is seen as less than human for having them. I hope to help right that wrong by honoring Vélez for being the trailblazer that she is. At any rate, Vélez would seem to be a prototype for contemporary female stars, from Madonna to Rihanna, who have proclaimed their pleasure in their body and their sexual liberation — a pro-sex activist before her time, doomed to suffer the rejection of a more puritanical age.
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Lupe Vélez, according to astrotheme, was a Cancer sun and Leo moon. She was born María Guadalupe Villalobos Vélez in San Luis Potosí, Mexico, to young upper-middle class parents. Her father, Jacobo Villalobos Reyes, was a colonel in the military, and her mother, Josefina Vélez, was an opera singer. They also had another son, John and daughter, Annette. The Villalobos family were considered prominent in San Luis Potosí and most of the male family members were college educated. The family was also financially comfortable and lived in a large home with servants. As a young girl Lupe showed an interest in performing, but her father was outraged at his daughter’s “low-class” dreams, and forbade his daughter from being in show business. All that changed during the war. Her family was in a state of upheaval—the Mexican Revolution was happening, her father had been presumed dead in the war and all their money was gone. While most of her family members were too proud to get jobs, a teenage Vélez did just that, supporting the family by working as a saleswoman in a department store. She then finagled an audition with a local theater. However, her father was indded alive and well and soon returned home from the war. Because at that time becoming an artist and coming from a well-to-do family was seen as embarrassing, her father refused to let her use his last name in theater, so she used her mother’s surname.
She proceeded to seek out venues where she could dance the then-popular “shimmy.” In 1925 she was cast in the big stage revues Mexican Rataplan and !No lo tapes! and became a big audience favourite. Her name got around to American stage star Richard Bennett (father of American film stars Constance and Joan Bennett), who was looking for a Mexican cantina singer for his new play. Lupe traveled to Hollywood but was rejected for the part for being too young. While in Hollywood, Lupe met film and stage comedienne Fanny Brice, who took a liking to Lupe because of her sparkling personality. She put in a good word for Lupe to impresario Florenz Ziegfeld (creator of the Ziegfeld’s Follies), who could use Lupe in one of his Broadway musicals. However, MGM producer Harry Rapf heard of Lupe as well, and offered her a screen test. When producer Hal Roach saw the test, he immediately signed her to a contract. Vélez soon made her major film debut in Douglas Fairbanks’ action-romance The Gaucho in 1927. The film was a huge hit and Vélez was an overnight sensation.
Along with her professional life gaining steam, so did her love life. Vélez sought out some of Hollywood’s hottest men, which wasn’t hard for a hot and sexy number like Lupe; men flocked to her like bees to honey. She was romantically linked with Gary Cooper, Charlie Chaplin, Clark Gable, cowboy Tom Mix, “Tarzan” actor Johnny Weissmuller, Errol Flynn, John Gilbert, Henry Wilcoxon, singer Russ Columbo, Randolph Scott, author Erich Maria Remarque (who wrote All Quiet On The Western Front and later married Paulette Goddard), Clayton “Lone Ranger” Moore, director Victor Fleming (director of Gone With The Wind), and boxers Jack Johnson and Jack Dempsey.
One of her first conquests was cowboy star Tom Mix. She also had an with newcomer Clark Gable, who cut off their romance because he was afraid Lupe would run all over town discussing their sexual secrets, which she did. Soon she had a torrid affair with comic genius Charlie Chaplin in 1928. Lupe revitalized Chaplin’s libido after he had gone through a torturous divorce from his wife. Whatever time she had for the many men in her life, that same appreciation didn’t extend to other women and she would frequently battle with the other females with whom she had to work with and would often threaten them; when she was starring in director D.W. Griffith’s Lady of the Pavements, she had to co-star with an actress named Jedda Goudall, whom she hated, and the two had a ferocious cat-fight on the set. When she made her final appearance on Broadway in the Cole Porter musical “You Never Know”, Vélez and fellow cast member Libby Holman feuded viciously. The feud came to a head during a performance where Vélez punched Holman in between curtain calls and gave her a black eye, which pretty much ended the run of the show. Vélez was territorial about the men in her life, she was vicious toward any woman who might be competition for her man or an acting role. She mocked Marlene Dietrich, Greta Garbo, Katharine Hepburn and Shirley Temple, and her arch nemesis Dolores Del Dio by doing imitations of them.
When she was cast in the film The Wolf Song in 1929, she met Gary Cooper and immediately started what would be her first widely publicized romance. Theirs was a one-sidedly volatile relationship; he would often appear in public with scratches and bruises. One time, she attacked him with a knife during a fight. He needed stitches. By the end of their time as a couple, Copper had lost 45 pounds and was physically exhausted.  He was ordered by the studio to take a vacation. As he boarded a train, Vélez shot at Cooper but missed. Lupe soon moved on to other men; she had a thing for fighters. In addition to having a brief fling with boxer Jack Dempsey, she conducted a flagrant, but secret, affair with the black boxer Jack Johnson. In those days, blacks and whites almost never conducted sexual affairs out in the open. She met Olympic swimming champion Johnny Weissmuller at the hotel where she was staying that was owned by film star Marion Davies. One problem: Weissmuller was already married. But no matter, he dumped his wife for Lupe and married her October 8, 1933 in Las Vegas. Theirs was not a happy, serene marriage, and they constantly battled, with Lupe filing for divorce several times in 1934 and changing her mind each time. Weissmuller’s patience was so strained he dumped a plate of salad on her head at Ciro’s nightclub. Finally, in 1938 she filed a petition that was finalized in 1939.
After having many hit pictures with MGM, they unceremoniously dropped her. The excuse was that the studios were no longer going to make Spanish versions of their films and there was no longer a need for Latin actresses. Vélez returned to Mexico in 1938 to star in her first Spanish-language film. Arriving in Mexico City, she was greeted by 10,000 fans. The film La Zandunga, was a critical and financial success and Vélez was slated to appear in four more Mexican films, but instead, she returned to Los Angeles. She soon went to RKO Studios and starred in the B-movie The Girl From Mexico. Despite its lowly status, the picture became a tremendous hit with audiences. RKO rushed her into another film, this time called Mexican Spitfire, playing an emotionally volatile singer named Carmelita. The 1940 film became another smash for Lupe. The Spitfire series of eight slapstick comedy films rejuvenated Lupe’s sagging career.  In late 1941, she had an affair with writer Erich Maria Remarque whose wife, actress Luise Rainer later wrote that Remarque told her “with the greatest of glee” that he found Vélez’s volatility hot.
At this same time Lupe took on another lover in the form of a French 27-year-old bit actor named Harald Ramond. He was a strong and controlling man who knew how to tame Lupe. After she discovered that she was three months pregnant, she announced her engagement to Ramond without his knowledge or consent. When he learned of her pregnancy, he refused to marry her. Deeply hurt and stunned, she felt backed into a corner; she knew her career would be ruined in Hollywood if word got out she was pregnant and unmarried. It just wasn’t done in those days. And despite her wildness, Lupe was a devout Catholic, so abortion was out of the question. She could see only one way out: suicide. On December 18, 1944, at the age of 36, Vélez swallowed 70 Seconal pills, she lay down on her pink satin pillow on her over-sized Hollywood bed and arranged herself like a movie star, with her hands folded across her chest and went into an eternal sleep. Dramatic to the end, Lupe went out of this world in glamorous style. She left a suicide note addressed to Harald, which read:
“To Harald, May God forgive you and forgive me too, but I prefer to take my life away and our baby’s before I bring him with shame or killing him. How could you, Harald, fake such a great love for me and our baby when all the time you didn’t want us?  I see no other way out for me so goodbye and good luck to you, Love Lupe.”
THAT is the truth. But the bottom line is: how she lived her life as well as the circumstances around her death are all irrelevant at the end of the day. What matters is the loss of a great multi-talented, pioneering Mexican star and a legacy unrealized and stunted by a world that wasn’t ready for her.
Next, I’ll talk about the most famous of her paramours, the yin to her yang, a perfect example of the special chemistry that Taureans and Cancers share, the strong, silent hero of the silver screen: Taurus Gary Cooper.
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Stats
birthdate: July 18, 1908
major planets:
Sun: Cancer
Moon: Leo
Rising: Gemini
Mercury: Cancer
Venus: Leo
Mars: Pisces
Midheaven: Pisces
Jupiter: Virgo
Saturn: Aries
Uranus: Capricorn
Neptune: Cancer
Pluto: Gemini
Overall personality snapshot: She may have seemed at times to be a shy, vulnerable, romantic individual who only wanted to please, but underneath she had a voracious appetite for adoration and respect, and would not stop until she got it. Without a doubt, she had a very warm feeling for others, and domestic security with plenty of happy togetherness is high on her list of priorities. When it came to cooperation with others, however, she had her limits because she was profoundly individualistic and, albeit in a charming manner, she insisted on doing things her way. Ultimately the most important thing for her was believing in herself and being true to her standards and aspirations. Most of all, she needed to fulfill her creative potential, which was like an intimate companion with whom she shared her life. You nurture it, protect it, and then you show it off, and whatever walk of life you are in, you tend to be a fine performer.
This gave her a lot of self-respect and a touch of vanity as well, and her emotional sensitivity combined with her underlying imperiousness tended to impress others and made them take her seriously. She was a devoted member of her flock, and she zealously and jealously protected and promoted whomever she was devoted to. When it came to developing her own talents, however, she seemed to know that she had to pull away in order to grow into her greatest self. Others may have thought she was a bit of a show-off but that was not the case: she simply had a deep sense of the importance of her own creative talents, and she felt only half alive if she did not honour them. Although she was pretty sensitive to criticism or rebuffs, she was just as committed to honesty and personal integrity; and despite her vanity, she eventually learned to laugh at herself.
She had a very good memory and found it easy to learn subjects that interested her. She was very kind and thoughtful towards others. Her imagination was very keen, but if it got carried away, she may have experienced irrational fears. Even though she may have tried to maintain a scientific and objective outlook, her mind was actually dominated by her emotions. When it came to careers, she may have felt initially vague or confused about what she really wanted to do. She was eventually forced to give up her career of choice by events out of her control (as was evidenced by the tides turning from the “Mexican spitfire” female ideal due to the changing of the times). There was probably some element of self-sacrifice involved somewhere in her choice of career (the element of sacrifice being that she had to sacrifice her child, and ultimately her life, in relation to her reputation as an unwed mother as well as her unborn child’s reputation as an illegitimate child). She had good technical and scientific ability due to her, at times almost fanatical, attention to detail. She was also fastidious when it came to matters of health, diet and appearance. She was not afraid of work and was very resourceful and capable. She also worked well in a team. She became very annoyed if somebody else questioned the way that she operated. Her energy levels were somewhat inhibited, her self-confidence reduced, and her ambitions restricted through fear of failure. Times of strength and weakness alternated within her. Even though her decision-making ability could be ineffectual through over-caution, she often seemed to be placed in situations where a quick decision was needed. When she succeeded, it was mainly through her own efforts. She also showed a tendency towards wanting to start at the top, wanting to avoid the hard work that gets you there.
She belonged to a generation with a rational and logical attitude to life. There was a conflict between tradition and convention, and the experimental and unconventional. As an individual, she had to learn to strike a balance between the erratic and the conventional. As a member of this generation, she had the ability to come up with original ideas which could be of practical value. She was part of a very artistically talented and creative generation that wanted to escape from the demands of the world around them into a world of excitement and glamour. She was part of an emotionally sensitive generation that was extremely conscious of the domestic environment and the atmosphere surrounding her home place and home country. In fact, she could be quite nostalgic about her homeland, religion and traditions, often seeing them in a romantic light. She felt a degree of escapism from everyday reality, and was very sensitive to the moods of those around her. Bow embodied all of these Cancer Neptunian ideals. As a Gemini Plutonian, she was mentally restless and willing to examine and change old doctrines, ideas and ways of thinking. As a member of this generation, she showed an enormous amount of mental vitality, originality and perception. Traditional customs and taboos were examined and rejected for newer and more original ways of doing things. As opportunities with education expanded, she questioned more and learned more. As a member of this generation, having more than one occupation at a time would not have been unusual to her.
Love/sex life: It wasn’t easy to be passionate and emotionally explosive and also hold on to her dignity, but this was what she wanted to accomplish. She tried to conceal the pulsating softness of her sexual nature behind a façade of control and bluster. She thought that her display of strength and jolly self-confidence would hide her vulnerability and her susceptibility to virtually any sexual diversion. Of course, no one was really buying this cover up. They saw the luscious edges of her erotic hunger peeking through her disguise. That’s why they were all so anxious to be around her. The biggest problem in her sex life was how to deal with change. She loved it and she hated it. She loved following the lead of her feelings and surrendering herself to the moment. Too much consistency, even loving consistency, was apt to leave her bored and dissatisfied. But she also saw change as a threat to her sense of control and to the emotional security that she valued so highly. Because of this duality in her thinking, her reaction to changes in her sex life was abrupt, contradictory, and (horror of horrors) a little undignified.
minor asteroids and points:
North Node: Gemini
Lilith: Libra
Vertex: Scorpio
Fortune: Gemini
East Point: Gemini
Her North Node in Gemini dictated that she needed to prevent her idealism from influencing her thoughts to such a high degree. She needed to consciously develop a more clear-minded and analytical approach involving her thought processes. Her Lilith in Libra was definitely working overtime here. Relationships somehow caused her to err, and her partner choices caused much suffering.   She expressed herself through others. As a lover, she was aggressive, yet co-dependent. As a mistress, she was not above trying to cause a divorce, which she did with Johnny Weissmuller and she ultimately became fatally despondent when she found herself pregnant with a bit actor's baby. She used her good looks as a weapon to help her get ahead in the movie industry. Also, Lilith in Libra strangely enough, manifested itself as a sort of lighter female Capricorn archetype, and she pulled herself up by the bootstraps in a rather glamorous way, going to work after her father left the family unit. As such, she exhibited graceful gumption right until the very end. Her Vertex in Scorpio, 5th house dictated that she had a desire or continual need for feeling irresistible and irreplaceable on all levels of intimacy, whether spiritual, intellectual, emotional, or physical. From the fires of hell to the heights of heaven, the  further and deeper the range of interaction she could experience with another the more fulfilling. She had a childlike orientation, in all of its manifestations, toward relationships on an internal level. That implicit trust, or perhaps naivete, that was instilled in our  childhood persisted far into maturity. The concomitant explosions and  occasional tantrums when these constructs are violated also accompany  this position. She had a need for fun, creativity, and excitement in a  committed relationship, no matter how many years it has endured. She often had deep fears, typical of children, of abandonment, as well as a need for universal acceptance, no matter how she acted, which she needed her partner to respect and nurture, rather than rebuke, especially in adulthood. Her Part of Fortune in Gemini and Part of Spirit in Sagittarius dictated that her destiny lay in travel, education and communication. She was able to overcome enemies by her words and by her writing. Happiness and fulfillment came from being able to express herself fully. Her soul’s purpose lay in seeking truth, justice and fairness. She felt spiritual connections and saw the spark of the divine when she studied, broadened her mind through new philosophies, or looked for inspiration outside the home. East Point in Gemini dictated that she was often insatiably curious and loved to collect little bits of (what seemed to be useless) information and trivia. Her interests were quite varied, and she may have been somewhat scattered. Sometimes her curiosity could appear cold and callous as her level of objectivity was potentially high. There was usually an openness to learning in any situation.      
elemental dominance:
water
fire
She had high sensitivity and elevation through feelings. Her heart and  her emotions were her driving forces, and she couldn’t do anything on earth if she didn’t feel a strong effective charge. She  needed to love in order to understand, and to feel in order to take action, which caused a certain vulnerability which she should (and often did) fight against. She was dynamic and passionate, with strong leadership ability. She generated enormous warmth and vibrancy. She was exciting to be around, because she was genuinely enthusiastic and usually friendly. However, she could either be harnessed into helpful energy or flame up and cause destruction. Ultimately, she chose the latter. Confident and opinionated, she was fond of declarative statements such as “I will do  this” or “It’s this way.” When out of control—usually because she was  bored, or hadn’t been acknowledged—she was bossy, demanding, and even tyrannical. But at her best, her confidence and vision inspired others  to conquer new territory in the world, in society, and in themselves.    
modality dominance:
mutable
She wasn’t particularly interested in spearheading new ventures or dealing with the day-to-day challenges of organization and management. She excelled at performing tasks and producing outcomes. She was flexible and liked to finish things. Was also likely undependable, lacking in initiative, and disorganized. Had an itchy restlessness and an unwillingness to buckle down to the task at hand. Probably had a chronic inability to commit—to a job, a relationship, or even to a set of values.                    
house dominants:
2nd
3rd
1st
The material side of life  including money and finances, income and expenditure, and worldly goods was emphasized in her life. Also the areas of innate resources, such as her self-worth, feelings and emotions were paramount in her life. What she considered her personal security and what she desired was also paramount. Short journeys, traveling within her own country were themes  throughout her life; her immediate environment, and relationships with her siblings, neighbours and friends were of importance. The way her mental processes operated, as well as the manner and style in which she communicated was emphasized in her life. As such, much was revealed about her schooling and childhood and adolescence. Her personality, disposition and temperament is highlighted in her life. The manner in which she expressed herself and the way she approached other people is also highlighted. The way she approached new situations and circumstances contributed to show how she set about her life’s goals. The general state of her health is also shown, as well as her early childhood experiences defining the rest of her life.  
planet dominants:
Neptune
Mercury
Sun
She was of a contemplative nature, particularly receptive to ambiances, places, and people. She gladly cultivated the art of letting go, and allowed the natural unfolding of events to construct her world. She followed her inspirations, for better or for worse. She was intellectual, mentally quick, and had excellent verbal acuity. She dealt in terms of logic and reasoning. It was likely that she was left-brained. She was restless, craved movement, newness, and the bright hope of undiscovered terrains. She had vitality and creativity, as well as a strong ego and was authoritarian and powerful. She likely had strong leadership qualities, she definitely knew who she was, and she had tremendous will. She met challenges and believed in expanding her life.
sign dominants:
Cancer
Gemini
Leo
At first meeting, she seemed enigmatic, elusive. She needed roots, a place or even a state of mind that she could call  her own. She needed a safe harbor, a refuge in which to retreat for solitude. She was generally gentle and kind, unless she was hurt. Then she could become vindictive and sharp-spoken. She was affectionate, passionate, and even possessive at times. She was intuitive and was  perhaps even psychic. Experience flowed through her emotionally. She was often moody and always changeable; her interests and social circles shifted constantly. She was emotion distilled into its purest form. She ventured out to see what else was there and seized upon new ideas that expanded her community. Her innate curiosity kept her on the move. She used her rational, intellectual mind to explore and understand her personal world. She needed to answer the single burning question in her mind: why? This applied to most facets of her life, from the personal to the impersonal. This need to know sent her off to foreign countries, where her need to explore other cultures and traditions ranked high. She was changeable and often moody. This meant that she was often at odds with herself—the mind demanding one thing, the heart demanding the opposite. To someone else, this internal conflict often manifested as two very different people. She loved being the center of attention and often surrounded herself with admirers. She had an innate dramatic sense, and life was definitely her stage. Her flamboyance and personal magnetism extended to every facet of her life. She wanted to succeed and make an impact in every situation. She was, at her best, optimistic, honorable, loyal, and ambitious.      
Read more about her under the cut.
Lupe Velez was born on July 18, 1908, in San Luis Potosi, Mexico, as Maria Guadalupe Villalobos Velez. She was sent to Texas at the age of 13 to live in a convent. She later admitted that she wasn't much of a student because she was so rambunctious. She had planned to become a champion roller skater, but that would change. Life was hard for her family, and Lupe returned to Mexico to help them out financially. She worked as a salesgirl for a department store for the princely sum of $4 a week. Every week she would turn most of her salary over to her mother, but she kept a little for herself so she could take dancing lessons. With her mature shape and grand personality, she thought she could make a try at show business, which she figured was a lot more glamorous than dancing or working as a salesclerk. In 1924 Lupe started her show business career on the Mexican stage and wowed audiences with her natural beauty and talent. By 1927 she had emigrated to Hollywood, where she was discovered by Hal Roach, who cast her in a comedy with Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. Douglas Fairbanks then cast her in his feature film The Gaucho (1927) with himself and wife Mary Pickford. Lupe played dramatic roles for five years before she switched to comedy. In 1933 she played the lead role of Pepper in Hot Pepper (1933). This film showcased her comedic talents and helped her to show the world her vital personality. She was delightful. In 1934 Lupe appeared in three fine comedies: Strictly Dynamite (1934), Palooka (1934) and Laughing Boy (1934). By now her popularity was such that a series of "Mexican Spitfire" films were written around her. She portrayed Carmelita Lindsay in Mexican Spitfire (1940), Mexican Spitfire Out West (1940), The Mexican Spitfire's Baby (1941) and Mexican Spitfire's Blessed Event (1943), among others. Audiences loved her in these madcap adventures, but it seemed at times that she was better known for her stormy love affairs. She married one of her lovers, Johnny Weissmuller, but the marriage only lasted five years and was filled with battles. Lupe certainly did live up to her nickname. She had a failed romance with Gary Cooper, who never wanted to wed her. By 1943 her career was waning. She went to Mexico in the hopes of jump-starting her career. She gained her best reviews yet in the Mexican version of Naná (1944). Bolstered by the success of that movie, Lupe returned to the US, where she starred in her final film as Pepita Zorita, Ladies' Day (1943). There were to be no others. On December 13, 1944, tired of yet another failed romance, with a part-time actor named Harald Maresch, and pregnant with his child, Lupe committed suicide with an overdose of Seconal. She was only 36 years old. (x)
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sadclearance · 4 years
Note
M!reader and hanta sero! toxic toxic manipulative reunion after breakup
how the #26 hero made headlines with his sex tape
pairing: hanta sero x male manipulative reader
summary: hanta sero and y/n meet again after their sex tape is leaked.
warning: sex tape (sero fucking you), manipulative and toxic behavior, implied/referenced past cheating, suicide attemptish, implied/referenced revenge porn
category: angst(?), fluff(?) idrk 
word count: 4300
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"and then the fucking cashier asked to take a picture!" katsuki bakugo seethed. "i just wanted to get my damn groceries, but everyone's so damn nosy!"
"at least they asked?" mina ashido said, her voice pitched at the end, making it sound more like a question than a statement.
"don't even get me started on the fucking stalkers that don't ask," bakugo growled.
"i don't know how you can live like that," hanta sero laughed at bakugo's misery. "sounds terrible."
is this karma for being amused by bakugo's misfortunes?
the day immediately after, sero is scanning his items after getting everything he needs from the grocery store when the cashier stares at him with wide eyes, glancing between him and the phone in their hand.
"are you cellophane?"
is this what having fans feels like? it's kind of flattering but also annoying that he's being called his hero name during his off time.
"oh, yeah," sero responds with a light laugh, trying to stay polite.
he expects them to ask for a picture or maybe an autograph. what he doesn't expect is snickering.
he vaguely remembers how denki kaminari described being recognized in public for the first time. he was met with taunts from a group of students because a video of him short circuiting had just gone viral.
sero's quirk doesn't even have any drawbacks similar to short circuiting, so he can't think of a possible reason why his cashier would be laughing at him.
he ignores it and finishes checking out because he doesn't want to ask what's wrong with the other person.
when he gets back to his apartment complex, he checks his mail. there's a few bills and postcards from old friends.
the guy next to him bursts out laughing.
he closes his mailbox and gives him a questioning look. that just made it two people that have laughed at him in the past thirty minutes. what's going on?
"you're cellophane, right?"
"uh, yeah?" sero says, completely confused.
"just don't be too loud in this building," the guy says, apparently cracking himself up.
sero is still puzzled. he's been the perfect tenant. the loudest noise that's ever come from his apartment was the merciless explosions from bakugo directed toward kaminari after a particularly bad joke, but that happened two years ago. ever since then, the most that could be heard was maybe kaminari's laughter, but sero doubts that that was even that loud.
when he reaches his floor and opens the door of his apartment, he's greeted with his friends on the couch.
"oh, hey," sero says, shutting the front door with his foot and going toward the kitchen to start organizing his groceries. "i told you guys to start warning me before you come. do i have to start hiding my spare key?"
"we know what you're doing, sero," ashido frowns.
okay, something's up. the pink hero isn't using her normal teasing or upbeat tone, and the television isn't even on.
"what?" sero looks at her with the same expression he wore toward the guy who told him not to be too loud.
"you did this last time, bro," eijiro kirishima gives a disapproving look. "i thought we made it clear back then that we're here for you."
what is kirishima going on about? "last time"? well, sero knows what he's talking about because of the whole "here for you" part. of course he remembers. it was a prominent part of his life because it only happened once, during a time in his life he remembers too well.
see, sero is an easy-going guy. out of everybody in the group, he's probably the most stable.
i mean, ashido is a party animal that drags the group out to upbeat bars at least once a month even when she would do a hundred things she'd regret the next morning. it's not like they didn't like doing it, but she definitely needed supervision.
then, there's kaminari. he's an emotional mess, getting caught up in too many confusing flirty situations. each week, he would have a breakdown in the group chat. "so do you guys think me and x are really flirting? or is this like joke flirting?"
can't forget about kirishima. he's probably the second most stable, but he still has a lot of times where he needs reassurance and comfort.
last but definitely not least, bakugo--the emotionally constipated man who is only the tiniest bit better at communicating his emotions than he was in their first year together.
too long, didn't read: four out of five of the group needed someone to depend on at least once a month.
sero is the one person in their group that didn't necessarily need anybody. this isn't because he keeps shit to himself. he's just fortunate enough to not have any problems that aren't surface level. the most he has to deal with are minor inconveniences like running out of toilet paper, running into a villain on his off day, or getting puked on by ashido on a particularly wild night--nothing that emotionally tears him apart.
well, there was this one time about three years ago when he felt the worst that he ever had before. it was a terrible experience of heartbreak and self-hatred which is why he unfortunately remembers it so well. he kept it all to himself until his friends managed to eventually force it out of him, hence the "we're here for you".
but there is absolutely no reason for them to say "last time" as if it's happening again.
"what are you guys talking about? everyone's being so weird today."
"oh my god," kaminari's jaw falls. "do you seriously not know, or are you pretending like you're okay again?"
"not know what?" today is a day of questions, and he doesn't like it one bit.
"do you not check your fucking phone or something?" bakugo growls with annoyance and the slightest hint of shock. the slight gentleness of his volume gets sero incredibly worried.
"i haven't had time to. why? what's going on?"
the four look at each other, considering if they should enlighten sero on whatever it is.
when sero determines they're taking too long to decide, he takes out his phone from his pocket.
at first, he sees a bunch of text notifications from almost all of his old classmates and coworkers, all asking in various ways if he's okay.
he moves past them and searches up his hero name. what could be so bad that his friends expect him to go back to being as much of a concerning mess as he was the last time they spoke to him like this? he doubts that anything could make him as bad as he was after his breakup with his high school sweetheart.
oh... well, he can admit that seeing his name with a link from an adult video website being the top result and under "trending" doesn't make him feel that great, but he doesn't think that it's that bad.
"there's a video on pornhub with my name on it. is it like a really messed up cosplay of me or something?" sero asks, partially joking. "because if it is, i don't really care, guys. you don't have to worry about stuff like that. i know what it means to be known by the world, and that there are creeps out there that get off to--"
"shut the fuck up and watch the damn video," bakugo scowls.
"you want me to watch porn in front of you?" sero raises an eyebrow, slightly amused--a feeling that clearly isn't being reciprocated by any of the four that are staring at him.
"just watch it," kirishima sighs.
he clicks on it, even if he thinks it's a little weird that his friends want to watch him watch porn. maybe it's so bad that it's funny. he's expecting some weirdo to be wearing a poor version of his hero costume getting bukkaked or something weird like that.
all amusement leaves his body, and his confused smile drops.
it's not some weirdo wearing a knock off cellophane costume. he's greeted with a screen covered by him. wearing nothing.
it's not even the fact that his nude body is exposed on the internet to be shown to anybody and everybody that causes the pit in his stomach. it's because he recognizes the video. he knows what happens in it. he knows who's in it.
he doesn't stop watching as giggling from his phone fills the awkwardly silent room. soon enough, the nineteen year old sero in the video has a cock in his mouth, and his fingers are up the ass of the owner of said cock.
that's not even the worst part. the worst part is the next part, which is where sero from three years ago takes the camera, uses his quirk to tie his ex-love's wrists together, and fucks him while getting everything on camera, including a clear shot of his face.
he watches the entire thing, too frozen to do anything else.
in any other situation, his friends would be teasing the shit out of him. ashido would poke fun at how sero of all people made a sex tape, kaminari would make some stupid pun about how he made a sex tape, kirishima would try to be holding himself back from laughing at how sero used his quirk for such a purpose as tying his partner up for sex, and bakugo would probably call him something along the lines of "plain face cock-sucking bottom bitch", even though the next few scenes that follow show that he's clearly not the last part.
this isn't any other situation, though. this is a sex tape with the one person he fucked over so badly that he still stays up every night thinking about it--regretting it. sero thinks that the universe must think he's one big joke.
"sero?" kaminari asks when sero doesn't speak even after the video ends. it's an awkward situation, really, because as mentioned earlier, his friends just watched him watch himself suck a dick and then proceed to pound into the ass of their former classmate.
he's not nearly as mortified by that as he should be.
he's more mortified that this is trending on every single social platform, not even because he's a pro hero with the world currently looking at his naked body, but because he somehow managed to fuck up y/n's life more than he already had three years ago.
"i'm tired" is the excuse he decides on using as he walks toward his bedroom. "i'll talk to you guys later."
hesitantly, his friends show themselves out, which he's glad for because he really needs some time to process--and wallow--by himself.
sero lies in bed for a while, not sure what to do, before he finally pulls out his phone again and does something that only makes the pit of guilt in his stomach worsen.
DailyHero: Taping Hero: Cellophane and the Video That Everyone's Talking about
HeroWeekly: Cellophane--26th Ranking Hero, Everything We Know About His Video
HeroTribune: Cellophane's Shocking Video
it isn't just hero media networks that are talking about it, though.
CelebrityGossip: Plain Hero Plain No More
since when is he a celebrity? he would find that funny if he wasn't so abashed by today's events.
RecreationalChronicle: How the Tape Hero is Making HeadLines
it makes him slightly amused to think of how that's another one of the stupid puns kaminari would make if the situation wasn't so sensitive.
he clicks on the hero weekly one, which just so happens to be the number one news outlet for hero news. sero's kind of surprised that they said anything about it. they were known for keeping things profession based, and the title of the article frankly sounds like any other drama website. he might be flattered by hero weekly deeming his amateur sex tape important enough to dedicate a whole article to it if he wasn't so plagued with guilt still.
Cellophane--26th Ranking Hero, Everything We Know About His Video
Cellophane, real name Hanta Sero, is the 26th ranking hero in Japan today. This morning, an explicit video featuring him and another man was leaked onto the internet via an adult video website. The original source is unknown, but we can only assume that neither Cellophane or his featured partner was behind revealing this to the public eye.
From what we gather, this video was filmed roughly around or before the first assignment that brought Cellophane lots of recognition. By this time, he was nineteen years old and had graduated the prestigious U.A. Academy a year prior.
The identities in the video are very clear, as there are many clear shots of both participants' faces.
While the video itself is shocking to many, Cellophane's partner is what surprises us the most. Y/n L/n was a hero that graduated alongside Cellophane from U.A. Academy. He was famous for being so fresh out of high school, but after just one year of unbelievable success--around the same time the infamous video was recorded--he went completely off the grid. To this day, nobody has seen him since.
sero stops reading because he feels more shitty the more he reads. he knows what the article is talking about. y/n cut off almost everybody from u.a. after their breakup. his friends tried to assure him that it wasn't his fault, but it was an awful big coincidence that his abrupt disappearance happened the exact day of their breakup.
he wonders what y/n's up to nowadays. is he still in japan? is he still pursuing a heroic lifestyle? perhaps he's been doing what aizawa did. maybe he continues to fight crime, just minus the recognition and media time.
if y/n really is living a peaceful life right now, did sero just shatter that? the world had sort of forgotten he existed at all after a few months of his disappearance, so he probably would've gotten away with roaming the streets freely without being recognized. did sero just ruin that for him?
he needs to know. he needs to try to fix things, even if he knows he can't. he needs to... he needs to talk to him, even after all these years.
when sero asks kaminari to meet him alone, the electric hero's kind of nervous. last time, he was happy with the entirety of their friend group comforting him. why did he want some one-on-one time all of a sudden?
apparently, he was right to be nervous because what sero is asking of him is hard for him to do.
"hey," kaminari says with the best smile he can muster in his anxious state.
"hey," sero greets back, taking a sip of his hot coffee.
"thanks for buying," kaminari says, twirling the straw in his cup with his hand, the ice of the iced coffee moving and crashing together.
"no problem," sero nods.
"what's up?" kaminari asks, putting the tip of the straw that lays in between his fingers into his mouth to take a nice long taste of the sweet treat.
"i need to talk to y/n," sero says, looking down at the coffee between his two hands instead of up into kaminari's eyes.
"i--what?" kaminari asks, almost spitting out his drink.
"i know you still talk to him, and i know why you can't tell me how to find him, but--"
"sero," kaminari frowns at the frantic desperation in his friends voice. "it's not that i can't. i mean, i probably shouldn't, but... that's not why."
"then why?" sero's voice is pleading, but his eyes hold angry frustration.
"look, the thing is, i don't even talk to him that often," kaminari sighs. "we've talked maybe twice since you guys broke up. we're not the friends that we used to be before."
"i understand that there's boundaries that shouldn't be crossed, okay? believe me, i really do, but i really need a chance to talk to him again. if he tells me to go away, i swear i'll drop it. i'll leave him alone. please."
"i know, i know. i know you aren't a stalker ex. just..."
kaminari's lips tighten into a line, a habit he's picked up over the years whenever he's faced with any kind of decision--whether it be deciding what flavor of ice cream he should get, or, apparently, if he should let his best friend see the guy he broke the heart of.
"okay," kaminari hesitates.
"thank you! thank you thank you--"
"don't thank me yet," kaminari says with a weak shake of his head. "before you talk to him, i need you to know that he's not the same person you knew."
"i understand," sero nods. he doesn't expects his meeting with him to go well anyway. sure, he hopes it will, but he's mentally prepared himself for the worst outcome, which his brain has decided is for y/n to yell and start throwing things at him.
"i... i don't know how to put it, really, but the few times that we talked, he's sounded... weird. like creepy. i don't know, man," kaminari shudders at the thought, but sero's too caught up in his anxious excitement to really care.
"it's okay. i understand," sero repeats.
"if you're sure," kaminari pauses. "truth is, y/n wants to see you, too."
"really?" sero feels all too hopeful, and he can see the worry paint kaminari's face.
"i don't know if it's in a good way or not," kaminari says carefully. he doesn't want to hurt his friend, but he doesn't want to set him up for disappointment either.
"i'm not expecting anything," sero says, but his words aren't very convincing when there's a clear smile growing on his face.
"just be careful, bro." kaminari writes an address on a piece of paper.
"you don't have to worry about me," sero reassures with a smile.
as he wanders through the streets, he's shaky and nervous and scared and ecstatic and--just everything.
y/n wants to meet with him. the possibilities are endless, but at least he now knows he won't be turned away--at least not immediately.
he goes between riding in cabs to treading amongst the shadows on the street, changing whenever someone recognizes him from the trending news.
he endures long hours of stares and whispers, encouraging himself with the thought of being able to see y/n again soon, whether that be a good thing or not.
"fiftieth floor of paragon hotel..." sero mutters to himself as he presses on the cold metal button. lots of questions come to mind, like where will y/n be? he didn't get a room number with the address. how will y/n react? will he stay civil? will he give him a chance to explain himself? did he only want sero to come so he could vent out his anger and frustrations?
when the elevator doors open, he sees a single door.
he hesitantly turns the knob until he's hit with a cold breeze from the night air.
oh.
it's the roof.
his brain's new worst conclusion is that y/n's going to push him off, but he's more okay with that than he should be. he has a quirk that can save him even if that happens, and if anything, he thinks it'll help him feel a little less guilty about everything he's done to make y/n's life more shitty.
"y/n," he calls out softly when he sees y/n just standing there, looking up at the big white moon in the sky.
nothing's really changed. his appearance isn't much different from the last time they saw each other, and sero's still enamored by how the stars above could never compare to the bright light that is y/n.
but that's not something he should be thinking about right now. his head shouldn't be filled with hopeful thoughts.
the object of his love to this day turns around upon hearing his name.
"sero," he greets with a smile. "you made it."
"yeah. i did," sero hesitantly steps closer to y/n. "listen, y/n, i'm..."
fuck. why is that the only thing he can get out of his mouth? he has so much to say--he's been thinking about it every night for the past three years--every hour for the past few days. so why is his mind blank now of all times?
"how're things with... i can't even remember her name," y/n laughs a little, and sero frowns. he doesn't know why he's laughing about the mistake that's been haunting him forever, but he swallows down those feelings. people grieve differently, and if anybody had a right to how they react to that night, it's y/n.
"i'm sorry," sero finally manages out. "she... i haven't talked to her since then. she's not a part of my life."
a casual "weird" is y/n's only comment before he turns back to look at the moon.
"you know... you know she never meant anything, right? we were--"
"'we were drunk, and i was lonely, but that's not an excuse, but she meant nothing, and you're the only one i want'," y/n finishes for him.
sero's heart sinks. has he been playing that night over and over in his head, too? has it been hurting him all this time as well?
"i remember." y/n's smile is still there, albeit more grim, and it unsettles sero.
"yeah..." and sero doesn't know what else to say because apparently, after years of mulling it over in his head, he hasn't come up with anything better than his initial rambles of regret. though, he still has something else to apologize for-- "i'm sorry. i swear it wasn't me who leaked it. i deleted--or at least i thought i deleted my copy years ago. maybe i didn't do it right. i don't know. i can't imagine how hard this must be for you. god, i'm so sorry. i managed to ruin everything all over again a whole three--"
"sero," y/n interrupts, sitting on the low ledge, eyes still on the sky.
"yeah?" sero swallows thickly at how desperate he sounds. he hates how messy his words are--hates how they pour out sounding so slow and stupid.
"do you love me?" y/n asks.
"what?" sero completely blanks. did he hear him right?
"do you love me?" y/n repeats, fully turning his body to him.
"yes." he doesn't hesitate for even a second, even though he wonders why he's asking that question at such an inappropriate time, because he has no doubt in his mind that he loves y/n and has since the moment they met.
"i don't believe you," y/n smiles as he stands up on the platform.
"what are you doing?" sero asks obliviously.
"what i should have done all those years ago," y/n smiles big, and it scares sero a little. "if you really love me... then you would catch me."
sero barely has time to process what he said before y/n lets himself freefall backwards.
sero's brain hadn't even considered that this would be one of the possible outcomes.
"y/n!" sero screams as he runs toward the ledge. he panics as he watches y/n's body get smaller and smaller the more he falls. he rips off his civilian long sleeve, shoots out his tape to stick onto the floor, before throwing himself off to go after him.
he uses his free elbow to launch his tape at y/n, knowing his own body wouldn't be able to get to him fast enough.
he wants to let out a sigh of relief when he sees that y/n's dangling by the white line rather than falling, but he knows from past experience with hero work that they're not completely safe just yet.
pulling himself up with the clear film he had luckily had the brains to think of placing first, he makes it back onto the roof of the building, slowly pulling his other elbow to haul y/n's body up as well.
"are you fucking crazy?!" he raises his voice for the first time in a long time. he doesn't think he's ever felt this angry and frustrated and mortified in his entire life.
y/n doesn't bother unwrapping himself from the tape as he uses a hand to pull sero's face close, kissing him softly.
and sero can't help but melt, which is the opposite of what he should probably be doing. a simple kiss shouldn't be able to pacify him with a situation like this at hand, but it does.
"you love me," y/n smiles when he pulls away just enough to feel the harsh pants coming from sero--the result of both the terrifying moment he just had to experience and his reaction to kissing y/n again.
"i do," sero nods eagerly, and shit, those aren't the words that are supposed to leave his mouth right now. he's supposed to ask what the hell is wrong with y/n. he's supposed to ask why he would do that. he's supposed to curse and swear and--anything but act like it's all okay.
"you love me," y/n says again before pulling him in for another kiss.
when sero puts his arms around y/n's waist and pulls his body as close as possible to his, he feels the buzz of y/n's phone.
"do you--do you need to get that?" sero asks as he reluctantly pulls away, sounding like a whiny child.
"i'm sure it's nothing important," y/n says before throwing his phone off of the roof, and sero pulls him back hungrily, because as strange as that action was, sero can't bring himself to care when the love of his life is back in his arms after three long years.
[12:39am] reporter to y/n: i got myself a promotion! been an honor working with you. again, thank you so much for selling it to me.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
a/n;
i wrote part of this in may last year because i thought the title was funny then i didn't know how to end it but then i got this sero request so
not proofread but when is it ever
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lemoncherrypop · 4 years
Text
To Build a Home
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seventeen x harry potter au
deatheater!seungcheol x gryffindorprincess!reader
summary:  The war has finally come and your entire world falls into ruin. After a surprise attack from the Death Eaters, you barely escape with your life and find refuge in a faraway safe house. Everything would have been fine, all things considered, except for the fact that you had fallen right into the snake’s pit. 
warnings: this is a brutal chapter. there will be fighting, and curses, and blood and a lot... of rage and unchecked craziness. there are two incredibly tortured souls in this chapter, so this will hurt. this will not be an easy chapter to read. this is also my first action scene ever, so i hope i was able to write it the way i pictured it in my head! as my amazing beta @minigum​ said, “ jesus i mean this in the best way possible but that was hard to read” i love you hahaha length: 3.9k
Series Masterlist
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | coming soon...
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Chapter Four
//
He was your first kiss.
It happened in fourth year. 
He mumbled over his words, and his face was burning red when he pulled away, but you thought he was the cutest boy you’ve ever laid eyes on.
He even apologized after the kiss was over, and all you could do was laugh because of course he would. 
Awkward and clumsy, he kept muttering things to himself. 
But it was your first time too, you reassured him. You were positive that your kissing was atrocious.
You didn’t know what to do with your lips. Keep them closed? Keep them open? What are you even supposed to do with your tongue?
But even through his stuttering, he insisted that you weren’t a bad kisser. 
He looked you straight in the eyes, growing redder by the second, and whispered how amazing you were.
But of course he would say that. He was always so sweet. 
Sweet, precious Seokmin.
He was your first kiss.
//
You wake up with acid burning in the back of your throat. Rushing to the bathroom, you collapse in front of the toilet and bend over. You’re dry heaving and gagging, but nothing comes out because your stomach was already emptied out last night after the end of Jun’s Dark Report.
Bubbles of spit hang from your chapped lips as you let out a guttural sob. It hurt. It hurt so much to think about him. All you could remember was the way Seokmin used to smile at you, how he used to always save a seat for you next to him in class, or how he’d sneak a treacle tart under his robes to give you before your quidditch practice. It was all you could see whenever you closed your eyes. 
Always smiling. Always happy. 
That was Lee Seokmin.
You’re gasping with your head down when a furious knock on the door startles you.
“This is a shared bathroom, must I remind you?”
Spitting into the toilet, you wipe your lips angrily and stand back up. It was Seungcheol, and he was ready to ruin your day first thing in the morning.
“Five minutes,” is all you can rasp out, the words are raw and painful in your throat.
You could almost hear his fist hesitating on the door.
He clears his throat. “Just leave the door open so I know it’s unoccupied then.” and he walks away.
//
The same clothes from yesterday hang from your weary body. You did not care. It was wrinkled and worn in the elbows and knees, and it probably also smelled a bit like sweat after yesterday’s duelling. Even still, you did not care.
There were quiet murmurs and gentle shuffling coming from the kitchen, and you could see that everyone was already gathered. A sharp, astringent smell hits you in the face before you even walk into the room.
“Firewhiskey? Really?” Your nose scrunches up in disgust. There were seven glasses lined up on the edge of the dining table. Mingyu was halfway done filling them up with an almost empty bottle of Ogden. “This is the first bloody thing we’re going to have in the morning?”
Mingyu continues to pour the whiskey into the rest of the glasses as a silent response.
“It’s for Seokmin,” Jean answers for you. “Apparently, this is what they do whenever someone they know has passed away.”
“You always need someone else to answer for you?” you spit out bitterly and roughly drag out a chair. “Thought your favourite thing to do was mouth off.”
Wonwoo sighs deeply as he takes a seat next to you.
“What? Got something to say?” Turning to glare at him, you notice the bags under his eyes have gotten darker since the day before.
“You think this is easy for us?” Wonwoo says softly, voice sounding weak. “Night after night, listening to see who else we lost? Who it will be this time?”
You raise a brow, just an infinitesimal amount, because you were surprised to see such a touching amount of emotion from the snakes, even if it was just a sniff.
“Didn’t think you cared,” you confess, eyes falling down on the glasses that were now all full with amber liquid. “Didn’t think anyone else really cared. You snakes never talked to anyone outside of your house.”
“But it’s not like he wasn’t our classmate,” Minghao muttered as he pushed a glass towards everyone. “It’s not like we didn’t sit next to him in class for six years.”
No one said a single word. The room was disturbingly silent except for the sound of glass being dragged across the wooden table.
“It’s not like we didn’t know him,” Minghao finishes, somber and quiet.
Seungcheol is the only one sitting back comfortably in his chair. His eyes are turning up towards the ceiling, looking unphased and detached.
Gripping onto your glass tightly, you glowered at him even though his focus was elsewhere and raised your shot of whiskey. 
“To our friend. To my friend.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, refusing to shed a tear in front of him. “You were taken from our world too soon. We’ll miss you.”
The firewhiskey burned like acid and it spread heat across your neck and cheeks. You wanted to cough, but even that you swallowed down. You will not show him a moment of weakness. Not in front of him. Not ever.
Mingyu starts to collect the empty glasses, but Seungcheol is already pouring himself another shot. He downs it like water and grabs the bottle again.
“Cream and sugar, right?”
Wonwoo slides over a teacup, the sweet scent of bergamot wafting gently in the air. It was your favourite cup of tea. Looking up, you saw that Wonwoo was already staring at you with a stoic look on his face, but even still, behind his blank expression, you could tell that he was full of unsaid words. You nodded at him in wordless gratitude and got up.
You skip breakfast and go right back up into your room.
//
No one wants to practice duelling, but Mingyu forcibly pulls the group together with the help of Minghao.
“We must stay vigilant,” Minghao says. “Always.”
It must’ve rained earlier in the morning, you could feel it in the air in the first breath you take. The humidity and fog feel heavy in your lungs. One by one, everyone shuffles out to the back of the cottage, the mucky ground immediately caking up the soles of everyone’s shoes.
Jean steps out to face the rest of the group. “I volunteered to be the Watcher today,” she speaks up and holds up a brown hat. “Pairs will be picked at random—”
Her hand digs in and quickly pulls out two small pieces of ripped paper. “Mingyu and Minghao,” she says and slides her boyfriend a soft smile before sticking her hand back in again. “Our second pair is Trinh and Wonwoo, which leaves— well, you two— together.”
A puff of misty cloud leaves your lips at a deep exhale.
It’s him. It’s him. It’s against him.
You grip your wand so tight, you can feel your knuckles turning white.
Breathe in… Breathe out... 
You must stay calm. You will not let him get to you.
This is a duel. A duel meant for training, and no matter what history you had with him, you can not let him get to you. You will fight the best you can, and you will teach yourself how to get stronger, better, and faster.
You draw up a mask, hiding your resentment behind smoke and mirrors and stand at the ready.
Minghao pats your shoulder lightly. “Try not to kill each other, alright?” You could just hear the smirk in his voice. How irritating.
Seungcheol walks over to your side at a leisurely pace, staying a good distance away with his wand still in his pocket.
You need to stay focused.
He’s in front of you, languid as ever, with his head cocked to one side and his hand tucked in his pants pocket.
Breathe in… Breathe out…
He’s twirling his wand between his fingers.
Stay focused.
“You hate me,” he says suddenly. 
“Trying to start something before we even begin?” You say flatly. “I’d like to get a fair fight.”
He bares his teeth, showing you a crooked, gummy smile. “Who says you won’t get one?”
The others have already begun their duelling. There are shouting and explosions all around you.
“You hate me,” Seungcheol repeats again, licking his lips.  “You hate me quite a lot.” He says it so matter of factly, your jaw drops with the sheer audacity he had as if the hatred between you two wasn’t a living, breathing thing that’s been birthed since year one.
“Of course I fucking hate you,” you scoff into the cold air. “I’ve spent the last six years of my life hating you because you made it your fucking life’s mission to destroy mine.”
“And did I do it?” Seungcheol grins wickedly. “Did I destroy it?”
Breathe in… Breathe out...
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Seungcheol laughs. Open-mouthed and sounding so real, so genuine. His head shakes as a wide smirk spreads across his face, his hair falling forward, almost hiding his eyes from you. This bastard was taunting you.
The glee on his face is almost sadistic. “So why don’t you show me?”
It cracks. A single pin was all you needed to drop for your mask to break, and the anger you were so desperate to repress was bubbling through.
“Confringo.”
A ball of fire expels itself out of your wand and Seungcheol easily steps out of its way. Dirt exploded into the air when it hit the earth behind him, and he brushes the soil off his hair like it was nothing but a mere nuisance.
“Oh come on, Princess,” he drawls. “You’ve got to be better than that.”
In a pile next to the backdoor, you spot a stack of twigs used for firewood. “Oppugno!” you shout, and the broken pieces of wood shoot towards him like arrows.
With his crooked smile never leaving his face, he waves his wand almost lazily and the kindlings disintegrate the moment it touches his shield charm. 
“Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to fight against you. Gryffindor’s perfect fucking Princess—”
“Reducto!”
Seungcheol blocks the spell again and scoffs. “You’re mad, aren’t you?” His wand waves again, and this time a red beam shoots out. Half a second too late, you step away and the attack spell grazes your right shoulder. “Show me your anger!” Another red beam shoots out from his wand. “Come on, Princess! Show me!”
“Shut up— shut the fuck up!” You snap, raising your wand to aim it directly at his face. You’re embarrassed at how shaky your hand is. “Don’t call me that, don’t ever call me that again.”
He snorts. “And why not?” He rolls his eyes, twirling his wand between his fingers again. “It’s what everyone calls you—”
“But not you, never you— never, ever, ever— expulso!”
It was mind-numbingly infuriating, watching each and every one of your spells being deflected by him. He threw them all to the side like they were crumpled up pieces of paper and walked over them as they still sizzled on the ground. How could he have gotten so much better than you at duelling? He was never better than you at it. You had always defeated him in class, hadn’t you? You were only away from school for one summer— 
He is laughing again, but this time he’s roaring so hard, he’s doubled over with his entire upper body quaking.
“You— you’re actually tryna blow me up?” He gasps out between each heaving breath. “You hate me— so much, you want me in bloody bits and pieces all over the house?”
You cannot help your own bark of laughter that bursts out. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?”
The wind picks up and a frosty chill penetrates through your jumper as his merriment slowly dies down. “Get what?” He straightens back up, a smile still on his face. “You’re going to have to elaborate, sweetheart.”
“You…” Seokmin is smiling inside your head again, and the crack splits, branching out into a thousand different splinters. “You just...”
“Just?” He echoes, a brow quirked in amusement. “Are you forgetting your words now?”
Seungcheol, with his perpetually haughty face, was a devastatingly painful reminder of your reality, one that painted a harsh contrast to Seokmin who had always brought you happiness and comfort. He was staring at you, patronising you with so much arrogance, the anger broke through. Spurting out through the cracks, hissing and steaming as it dribbled down the mask you tried so desperately to hold together.
 “You just fucking sat there,” you ground out. “Like he didn’t even matter. Like you didn’t even know him.”
“Who?” His hand drops to his side. “That Hufflepuff? Are we still going on about him?”
It is terrifying how genuinely confused he looks.
“He was our classmate!” He deflects another confringo with a quick snap of his wrist, and you wail in anger. “Six years! Six fucking years we spent together with him!”
Seungcheol’s expression drops suddenly, wrist flicking away another spell. A vacant look replaced in his eyes. “Just another mudblood,” he said flatly. “Must I care about every dirty little mudblood in our school?”
“D-don’t care?” You can’t help the stutter, alarmingly disturbed at his lack of emotions. “He’s dead, and you don’t even care?”
“Our entire country has run amok with mudbloods. Am I expected to grieve for all of them?” he drawls, exasperated.
“Don’t care…?” you murmur to yourself. Your guts are twisting in horrified confusion. “Don’t care… You don’t care...”
“What was that, sweetheart?”
Blood drains from your face as the realization slowly dawns on you.
“You don’t care,” you repeat, louder, fiercer.
He rolls his eyes. “Think we already established that—”
“Shut it!” Snapping, your wand is drawn up again. There is a fury burning deep within your veins now. “You don’t fucking care because you’re a killer— a murderer! A murderer just like him—”
His face twists. “Don’t—”
“That homicidal monster that you call your Lord! You’re just like him!”
Seungcheol’s face contorts painfully into something angrier, something darker. “You have no idea what you’re talking about…”
It gave you an unsettling type of pleasure watching him. You want him to feel angry. You want him to feel your pain. He was, after all, the one who brought all this pain onto you.
“You’re a murderer—”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Just like him—”
“Sectumsempra.”
It was a spell you did not know.
Your protego was barely brought up, so his spell sliced through like butter. You could feel it. Deep lacerations spread rapidly, marking your chest and left with gore. You did not even need to look down to see how much you were bleeding. The blood is already seeping through your jumper, ruby red blossoming quickly from the centre of your chest.
But you do not feel any pain. There is no stinging, or aching, or throbbing. There is only anger.
Even the sight of blood must have shocked Seungcheol. He takes several steps back, frozen stiff and unmoving for just a few moments, a few seconds more than he should have allowed himself.
“Diffindo.”
It is your first hit of the day, and the spell lands directly in the middle of his chest. His white shirt rips violently open as he gets blasted nearly ten feet behind him, crashing violently into a tree before falling to the ground. Seungcheol’s face is buried into the ground, and you find yourself gasping for air, your jumper feeling heavier and heavier by the second.
Strength is draining from you, but you take slow and deliberate steps towards him.
“You’re full of shit, Seungcheol.” Blood is dripping from your fingertips, leaving scarlet dots pebbled on the grass below you. He struggles to sit back up. “You’re a monster, a fucking monster, just like him—”
He’s laughing again, but this time he sounds almost hysterical. Propping himself up, his grimy hand is firmly pressed just under his collarbone, fingers gripping the tattered bits of his shirt together as a deep red spreads rapidly on his shirt.
“Is this funny to you?” you whisper, and kneel down in front of him, doing absolutely nothing to try and stop your own bleeding. Fingers, disturbingly still, reach over to touch his cheek, painting his almost translucent skin with your blood. “Was this the fight that you wanted?”
The laughter fades, and his smile falters. You’re blinking slowly, trying to memorize the way he stops his breathing, but all you can notice is the agonizing way his eyes twist and wring, and it does nothing to ease the pain in your own heart.
“You’re a mudblood cunt,” he finally breathes out in a vicious whisper, and your hand slides off, his cheek left with the trails of your fingerprints. “You will never understand.”
There is a ferocity now, a dark and dangerous energy coming back into his eyes. “You did not win,” Seungcheol hisses and he pushes himself up. Blood is trickling from his neck and collarbone, and flowing over onto his milky white skin. It drips when he stands, and it lands on your face when you look up, leaving tear-like marks as they roll down your cheeks and lips. Towering over you, he’s breathing hard as angry puffs of smoke leave his chapped lips.
“You did not win,” he repeats cruelly, “But this is over.”
A numbing ache takes over your body. You aren’t sure if it was from the cuts still spreading on your body, or if it was because you were holding back tears, but Seungcheol is storming back into the house now, and you are left alone on the cold, muddy ground.
All you can see is red.
The only thing you are aware of doing is breathing, and that was because it hurt. There is a sharp, piercing pain every time you take a cold breath, and it makes your heart race faster and faster. So despite the frigid weather, all you can feel is a raging fire because how dare he? How dare he just walk away from you?
Using your good arm to help yourself up, you follow him. It’s only a few long strides until you reach the house, and the backdoor is left open in Seungcheol’s wake. Finding him is as easy as following the trail of his footprints, mixed with both mud and blood, it leads you straight into the common room.
Wooden drawers are being slammed open and shut, and you find him searching for something in the cabinets next to the fireplace. Be it ointments or bandages, you did not care. One stomping foot after another, you charged in, wand at the ready.
“Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol.”
His hand freezes, his body turning towards you slowly. “Don’t— don’t come near me…” he warns.
“This is what you wanted,” you fire back angrily. “You started this, and now you want to just end it?”
“I told you this was over,” he growls, hand swigging over to grab onto the tip of your wand. The wooden cabinet is stained crimson with the marks of his fingers.
“And who the fuck do you think you are to decide that?” You step closer. His blood seeps into the cracks of your wand. 
“Is that why you followed me?” He cracks a crooked smile, bloodied lips bent furiously. “To end this fight?”
“What if I am? What if I want to finish this bloody fight with you—”
“Then do it.” He tugs roughly on your wand, jerking you closer to him. “End it then. End me.”
“What— No, that’s not—”
“Fucking do it,” He says, gripping onto your wand even tighter and forcing it to the centre of his chest. “Fucking end me! You can’t miss, Princess.”
His voice is sticky sweet, but the venom is dripping off his lips. The mania is swirling in his eyes, and all you can see is the look of a deranged man losing it before your very eyes. 
For the first time in your life, Choi Seungcheol has scared you speechless.
“No— stop—”
“Just another fucking murderer, aren’t I? Don’t you want to kill me?”
“I don’t—” 
“Fucking pussy,” he spits at your feet, his disgust and malice mixed in with his blood and spit. “Could’ve left me dead just like your precious little friend. Where’s your fucking Gryffindor courage now? ”
The mask shatters. A million pieces are crumbling down, and everything that you’ve feared, loathed and dreaded inside of you comes bursting through, gushing out like a waterfall that broke through a dam.
The punch lands harder than you think and Seungcheol lands on the ground. His head makes a heavy thud, and your muscles are moving faster than your mind. You’re on top of him before you can even comprehend what you’re doing, knees placed on his sides to lock him in place.
All you can see is red. 
Fists are pounding into his face, and it doesn’t even feel like they’re yours because blood is splattering all over his face and yours. Every muscle and bone in your body is screaming in anger, anger, anger.
There is a mad cackle in the air, and you don’t even realize that it’s coming from you. The pain of losing Seokmin is bruising your heart, and it hurts you, it hurts so damn much. Seungcheol does not even attempt to stop you, and it only enrages you more. He is just lying there, with his eyes looking blissful with a wide smile on his face. It angers you so much, you can not help but laugh. His porcelain fucking skin paints brighter and brighter in red.
Why? Why? Why? 
Why does he not hit you back? Does he not hate you? Does he not want you gone?
You sob in the midst of your laughter because your long-awaited rampage gives you no sense of satisfaction.
Someone wraps their arms roughly around your chest, and you are violently ripped off, feet dragging on the carpet that you’ve managed to ruin once again. Every inch of your skin is screaming in agony and your wand is ripped away from you. All you can do is cry and cry and cry as you’re being dragged further away from him.
All you see is pain.
Seungcheol slowly sits up. His face is absolutely destroyed bloody with bruising already started to form. His eyes are dead, but he’s smiling again. Always that crooked fucking smile.
All you see is blood. 
There is so much of it. It is on his face, and his clothes, and the carpet, and on that armchair that you like so much. You look at the carpet and wonder which puddle of blood belonged to whose.
All you see is red.
It is wet. The bloodsoaked carpet feels damp underneath your hands, and the smell of it is hanging so thickly in the air, you can almost taste it on your tongue. Your vision blurs, and you can’t even tell if you’re breathing anymore.
There is a whisper. “Vulnera sanentur.”
All you see is black.
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