#i use it only to cover up eye bags because its a bit ugly to me to have them

[pinkumiilku]

I think makeup is a satanic cult.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - can’t sleep

you just can’t sleep without your husband next to you (i hope my spanish was okay)

Maybe it’s your cycle, maybe its just the fact that you’ve been literally working all day for the past 3 weeks, but you’re tired as shit. The bags under your eyes are almost purple, your entire body hunches over like a zombie when you walk, you barely have time to think nor speak to anyone else besides your husband. The entire building is lowkey worried you’ll snap one day. 

Even Miguel is worried. Much how you like to do to him, Miguel’s been constantly ushering you to rest a little, borderline bribing you with nice takeout or some kisses to get you to sleep. But, to no avail. your sleep schedule is genuinely fucked. 

You’re cranky, hungry, and sleep deprived. 

At the moment, Miguel doesn’t really know where you are. Considering your current state, he thinks you’re out on a mission, or at least somewhere in the office. 

He’s already tried walking through the entire office just looking for you. He checked the cafeteria, gym, hallway, etc. muttering, “Where th’fuck are they?” But, you were nowhere to be found.

So, Miguel tries something different. He pulls up his watch, scrolling down to a button that he really only should be using for emergencies, but to Miguel, this is an emergency on its’ own. 

He presses the button, and suddenly his entire face is broadcasted to every single watch in the building. Dramatically, the emergency siren turns on, and all the spider-people are on their feet. 

“If anyone sees my wife, please report back to me asap. Tell her to come see me, I can’t find her anywhere.“

The whole office can see Miguel rub a hand over his face, visibly both annoyed and tired. Everyone starts looking back and forth, tilting heads and making sure that you didn’t just happen to be around somewhere. Once the camera turns off, though, nearly the entire building starts chuckling. 

It’s crazy how much Miguel’s face utterly lights up when he sees his watch ringing without your contact photo. Literally in a split second, he presses the button, opening up a microphone icon. 

“Miguel?“

Ugh, he just loves the sound of your voice. 

“¿Si querida?“

He hears you groan, possibly the sound of bedsheets shuffling, and it pulls at his heart. You’ve been so miserable lately, he just wants to see you back to your happy self again. 

“Come home, now.“

Just the tone of your voice alone put a worried frown on Miguel’s face. (He never likes to admit how much of an impact your emotions have on him.) An ugly, anxious swarm starts to build at the back of his head, making him impossibly nervous. 

Luckily, Miguel knows what to do. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be there in 10.“

And he turns the watch off, sighing to himself after. He’s a little bit nervous now, fearing as though he did something to upset you, or that you had something serious to talk about when he came home. 

Every step Miguel takes to your shared home brought him closer and closer on edge, worry and theory swirling through his mind. His brain ping-ponged through every single possible reason why you’d want him to come home, especially in such a cranky matter. Maybe you were just tired? Maybe it was because he accidentally gave you a raisin bagel instead of a everything bagel?

By the time Miguel was at the door, his heart was beating erratically in his chest, hands the slightest bit shaky. Stepping inside, Miguel instantly beelined for your shared bedroom, gently opening the door. 

He sees you shuffle around in the covers, his heart secretly swooning. You’re just so cute when you’re half asleep; needy and cuddlier than usual. Already at the bedroom door, Miguel practically rips his shirt off, kicking off his pants and making his way over to where you lay. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, gingerly swiping strands of hair off your face. 

“What is it, hun?“ He coos.

You toss and turn, barely mustering a frown onto your face. Your eyes are half-lidded, tank top almost falling off your shoulder until Miguel readjusts it for you. 

“Can’t sleep without you.“ You mumble, slowly scooting yourself over and draping your arms towards him. Miguel practically swoons, cooing and leaning into your touch. How could he resist such an offer?

“Awh, baby.“ 

He tangles himself into bed with you, breathing the biggest sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he thought it was. You just wanted snuggles. Miguel takes it upon himself to spoil you extra, ghosting his touch over your back and kissing the darling skin of your temple.

Like the thousands of times he has before, Miguel tangles his legs into yours, kneading his fingers into the skin of your raised leg.  

Within a few minutes or so, Miguel feels you knock out like a light, tiny puffs of air escaping your mouth while you fist the sheets like a baby. He sighs, staring at you for a few moments while you sleep. Affectionately, he rubs his knuckles against your cheek, smooching your forehead. 

Miguel pulls a blanket over the both of you, knowing very well that by the time you’re awake, it’ll be completely on the floor. Readjusting his position, Miguel doses off to sleep, allowing himself to completely let go of all the stresses he holds. 

After all, he can’t sleep without you either. 

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[mimilind]

Hooded Stranger - Part 2

♕ ♕ ♕

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 1400

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♕ ♕ ♕

2. Wounded Man

The small village where you lived was located several leagues from Bree, and you could therefore only rarely go there. Instead, you slept in a spare room at the Prancing Pony, which you shared with two others of the staff. 

Today was unusual, and with light feet you were walking the long way home, carrying a nice packed lunch and a few changes of clothes in a bundle. It was soon Midsummer Day, and Butterbur had kindly given you a few days off to visit your parents.

The path took you through a spruce forest, where a thick carpet of green moss covered all sharp obstacles, making the ground soft and bouncy. On both sides of the path grew tiny, wild strawberries, and you walked slowly so you could pick them and thread them like pink beads on a long straw before gobbling them up. This you repeated every two yards, which resulted in much delay. You did not care, however – you had all the time in the world at your hands.

You had strayed a bit from the path in your strawberry hunt, when you suddenly heard a voice in the distance: “Help!”

Straining your ears to figure out where it came from, you formed your hand into a funnel and called back: “Hello?”

“Heelp!” the voice replied.

You thought you knew the direction now, and started walking that way, while wondering who it could be. Perhaps a wanderer who had gotten lost? 

That reminded you… Picking out your eating knife, you scratched up some moss and turned the black, earthy side up. This you repeated at intervals, leaving a visible trail to follow on your return. The forest was enormous, and you knew of villagers who had disappeared into it and never returned. Not because it was dangerous – or at least you hoped so – but because it was so large and confusing. Even this close to the path, the forest looked the same in every direction. 

The voice kept calling, and you replied every once in a while. Then finally you found its owner, splayed out on his back in the moss. 

The first thing that caught your attention was his leg. It was bent at an odd angle, and it looked sickeningly wrong. Quickly turning your gaze away from the ugly sight, you looked at his face instead. 

Your mouth almost fell open. He must be an elf! 

You had only seen elves once, many years ago, but you remembered how beautiful they were, with smooth, ageless faces, long hair and clear eyes the same color as water. This one looked very much like they had. He was youngish and exceedingly handsome, with dark, shoulder length hair, a straight nose and a masculine jawline. 

You hurried up to him, falling on your knees beside his outstretched form. 

“Thank you for coming.” His voice sounded weak and strained, but also strangely familiar. “I thought nobody would ever come. Do you have anything to drink?”

“I do.” You pulled up a flask of beer from your bag and passed it to him. When he put it to his lips, you noticed he had a short beard. Did elves really have beards? You had heard otherwise, but then people said so many things, and not half were true.

He drank eagerly, and you realized he must have been lying here for a long time. You felt sorry for him; the pain must be gruesome.

When he had drunk his fill, he tried to sit, and you helped him. He gave his leg a morose look. 

“How did it happen?” you asked.

He smiled wryly. “In the most stupid way imaginable. I had climbed a tree to get my bearings, and slipped on a branch, and fell.” He shook his head. “It needs to be straightened out and set. Do you have any linen I could use?”

“I’ll sacrifice my spare undershirt.” When you began to rip the linen, you stifled a sigh. An elf like him would probably not understand you were ruining the equivalent of half a year’s salaries. Your parents would not be happy. 

“Thank you. I shall pay you for it.” 

You met his gaze in surprise. It seemed he did understand then.

“Here, let me finish that.” He took the garment from you. “Could you cut two straight branches, about this thick?” He held up his thumb. 

You did what he asked. When you returned, he was glaring at the broken leg like it had done him a great injustice. 

“I’ll set it,” you offered. Having grown up on a farm, you had set sheep legs a few times. Surely an elf leg could not be that different?

“I wish you had something stronger than beer,” he muttered miserably, but obediently leaned back, not questioning your ability to help.

“Um, I do, actually.” You gave him another bottle, one full of apple brandy, which you had intended as a Midsummer Day’s gift to your parents. Liquor was never hard to come by when one worked at an inn – one of the perks.

He gratefully gulped down a generous measure before laying back down. “Can you wait a little?”

“Sure.” He wanted the alcohol to muddle his senses, to help ease the pain. You looked sympathetically at him. “Can I do anything else for you? Are you hungry?”

“Ravenous.” He flashed a smile at you, and to your surprise it changed his face entirely. He had looked handsome before, but when smiling he was stunning.

Realizing you were staring, you quickly bent over your bag, spreading your packed lunch between you. 

While sharing the food, you glanced at him again, and noticed something strange. Were not elves supposed to have pointy ears? His looked round and normal. That time when you saw elves before, they had been at a distance; you could not remember what shape their ears had been. Maybe the pointy-ear thing was another wife's tale? 

His movements were getting gradually slower and a bit clumsy, and you knew it was soon time to begin. You did not like the thought of the pain you would cause him, but it was the only way. Trying to walk anywhere with a leg bent twice would probably hurt even more.

A thought struck you. “I don’t even know your name,” you said. 

“How rude of me.” He met your gaze unsteadily. “I’m… Uh. I’ve got many names. But the one I like most is Estel. Means hope.” He smiled at you again. Good gracious, what a smile he had!

“Are you an elf?”

He chuckled. “You think I look like one? I’m flattered. But nay. Sadly, I’m a human.”

“Why’s that sad?” You ambled closer to his leg, gathering the willpower to straighten it.

“Because I’ll die. Isn’t that sad? My dad will be sad. Step-dad. My real one’s dead. Dunno why I’m telling you this.”

“I should introduce myself,” you suddenly remembered your manners.

“No need.”

“No?”

“I know you from the Pony.” He grinned. “Prettiest of the staff. Am always hoping you’ll be the one to bring my ale.”

You felt your cheeks heat in pleasant surprise at his praise. Had he been at the inn, and you had served him without knowing? But that could not be possible. You would have remembered such an attractive man for sure! And even if you had somehow missed a face like his, his height would have made him stand out. I mean, look at the length of that leg! He must be taller even than… Even than… 

You stared at him. Could he be…?

“What are those other names you mentioned?” you asked, suddenly certain you knew the answer.

“Around here I usually go by Strider.” He burped, and covered his mouth. “Pardon me.”

Strider. Of course. No wonder you had recognized his voice! But why would a man as handsome as Estel hide his face under a hood?

Actually, come to think of it, it made sense. If he did not want to be stared at, and hit on, and receive indecent suggestions, then a man looking that good might very well choose to cover himself. 

“You should probably begin.” He sighed. “Don’t stop if I wail. I’ll try not to, but it already hurts like… like a bad word I won’t taint your pretty ears with.”

You positioned yourself and drew in a breath. You could do this. One pull to straighten the bone. Hopefully that would be enough. 

Estel clenched his fists in anticipation, and his face was stony.

♕ ♕ ♕

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[queen-of-meows]

WIP tag game

Thanks for tagging me, @insert-witty-user-name-here !

I don’t really have any WIP because I tend to publish right away and edit later (terrible habit !). But today I’ve been writing more of my long running Doctor Who story and I want to share some of it.

Here’s a little snippet of chapter 18 of Innocet’s War. For the context, Innocet, the main character, is hiding underground in former mines alongside Gallifreya Aeterna, a rebel faction led by the Pythia, a powerful witch who wants to restore the old political system (well, it’s a bit more complex than that ^^). During her stay, Innocet befriends some of the cultists, mostly villagers who lost everything in the war and army deserters. Among them is young Raiden, who has no memories of her life before the mines.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Finally, they reached some sort of a platform surrounded by the remains of ancient mining contraptions, giant cranes and rusting drills. Raiden walked close to the unprotected edge of the platform and let out a blood curling scream. She was only met with silence and a faint echo. She tried another one, this time stretching her voice as thin as physically possible. This time, she received an answer, barely audible cry from below their feet. Innocet backed up a little when she heard the sound of large flapping wings.

Suddenly, a large creature emmerged from the dark and hovered towards the platform. Innocet gawped in awe and terror. Under the bright light of their greenish Terranium lamp, the creature looked pale and famelish, its protuding joints forming weird angles as it slowly moved its leathery wings.

“Come closer !” Raiden prompted Innocet.

The old woman swallowed the lump in her throat and made a few steps towards the girl and the unsettling creature. Raiden smiled and stretched her hand to pet the Draugr's bald head. Innocet smiled. It's blind face was smooth, its eyes covered in a thin membrane of skin. It had two thin nostrils and no nose, and a large mouth like a reptile.

“Poeple say Draugrs are ugly and disgusting, and they teach their children to hate them too” Raiden explained with a sigh.

“I have to admit they're an acquired taste” Innocet replied humorously.

“Why can't they see how much we would benefit from working together ?” the girl asked. “Draugrs are smart and friendly.”

She unpacked her food as she was talking and handed a full embermole to the creatures. It snatched it's prize away and teared it apart with delight. Raiden laughed and playfully removed the bag from sight.

“Hey, keep some for your brothers !”

The Draugr growled and turned its head to Innocet. The old woman froze under the terrifying dead stare.

“You still have that mole in your hand” Raiden remined her.

Innocet blinked out of her trance and realised she had not given the rodent back to its thief.

“If you give Alabaster a treat, you will become her new best friend !”

Mustering her courage, Innocet came closer to the pit and handed the dead animal to the Draugr. Alabaster, as Raiden had called her, sniffed her prey and tilted her head.

“You can have it” Innocet encouraged her, loosening her grip on the furry thing.

Alabaster snatched the mole away and swallowed it full with a growl of delight. Soon, more high-pitched cries announced the arrival of more Draugrs. All of them were approximatively the same size, but there were small variation in the shape of their wing or the coloration of their skin.

“Mushrooms for Limestone ! And more Embermoles for Moonsand !”

There were now three of them, eating treats from Raiden's hands.

“The Night Patrol killed their mother” Raiden explained. “They used to kill a lot of Draugrs, before the Pythia passed a law to officially protect them.”

The young girl could barely hide her anger.

“So you raised those three babies ?” Innocet asked.

She nodded proudly.

“Yes. Father Jareth and Daddy Lyron were in the patrol when the idiot guard fired up. They had found the nest and the rest of the team would have killed the babies too if my dads had not prevented it. They had a heated argument and it ended with an audience with the Pythia herself. She punished the guards with extra cleaning duty and allowed my dads to bring food to the little Draugrs until they get old enough to survive on their own.”

“It's a lovely story. I knew your fathers were good men.”

Raiden nodded.

“We had just arrived at the Sanctuary. I was still very young when my dads saved them. They were adorable, and they grew into majestic creatures."

Innocet glanced at the three Draugrs. With their long limbs and sharp ribcage, she could understand why the ancients had mistaken them for undead bodies. The smell didn't help either. Whether they had always looked like this, or they were the result of a mutation after being tainted by the Yssgaroth, Innocet would never know. Maybe it was all myths and legends, and Draugrs were simply endemic creatures from those caves. But superstitions died hard, and every child and loomling on Gallifrey had heard of the scary Vampires from the Moon that came at night to eat the desobedient little ones.

I’m tagging you, @bushs-world ! And whoever wants to join.

[finelinevogue]

Can you do something about the reader having a lot of stretch marks and being insecure about it? I just feel so ugly about my ones because they are really noticeable and cover almost the entirety of my hips and boobs

i accidentally posted the other one with 3 sentences written so here it is again!!!

also i would just like to say that anon, honey, you are absolutely beautiful and you shouldn’t let your stretch marks or anyone else tell you otherwise. okay?<3

Standing in front of the mirror at home, assessing your new lingerie purchase, you remained unsure.

You had taken yourself shopping today whilst Harry had been in the studio. It had been a fun and successful shop, running various errands whilst also treating yourself to new shoes and a new tote bag, except for when you went into Victorias Secret. 

It had crossed your mind that it might be nice to surprise Harry with new lingerie, seeing as he hadn’t seen anything new on you for a few months now. Your favourite go-to set was a lilac one covered in tiny pink butterflies and flowers, but it was getting so worn out that you decided it might be time to replace it. You’d found a lovely pale blue set with embroidered pink flowers on and thought it would be the perfect replacement.

You had asked one of the employees to help you with sizing, since you knew that you’d gone up a few sizes since the last time that you’d bought bras. The woman hadn’t been half as nice as you’d expected though.

“Buying the lingerie for anyone nice?” The blonde woman asked, picking at her chipped nail polish rather than actually paying attention to you.

“My boyfriend.” You smiled, thinking about how happy Harry’s face was going to be when he saw you.

“Oh... Really?” She questioned, clearly finding that quite hard to believe. 

“Yeah. Thought it might be nice to surprise him.”

“So what are you thinking of going for?” She asked, actually getting out of her seat to do her job. She couldn’t have been more than 25 years old, so you guessed that she didn’t even really want the job and was only here to earn a bit of pocket money.

“This please.” You handed over the pale blue bra and asked for it in your size.

“Hmm. Are we sure that’s the right size?” She held up the new size in front of her, holding it up against your chest. “Just seems a bit too small for your large chest area.” 

“Oh.”

She handed you the set anyways and directed you to a changing room. Pulling back the curtain, you sighed as you tried not to let that woman’s comment get to you. You stripped until you found yourself in your own underwear, sighing at how unflattering you saw your body as. Your stomach had one more chub roll than you wished, even after the numerous of toning exercises you’d done. Your breasts had tiny lines of discoloured skin, that was slightly raised and wrinkly, showing that you’d stretched in certain places. They were also found on your waist too. You ran your hands over them, feeling the bumps and trying your best not to get upset.

Before you could have the chance to put on the lingerie set the woman opened the curtain again. You used your hands to try and cover your body, feeling incredibly exposed right now. 

“Excuse me?” You asked, not knowing whether this was even allowed.

“I thought you might need some help.” She said whilst raking her eyes over your body, fixing her eyes to the parts that you’d just been bashing.

“N-no. I’m fine thank you.” 

“Do you want me to find another set that will cover up those stretch marks?” She asked, pointing in disgust at your skin and its’ flaws.

“Why?”

“Well, they’re not exactly something that your boyfriend will love on you. Trust me. It’s better to cover them. They’re kinda ugly anyways. No?” 

You hadn’t even tried on the new lingerie set there in the store because you were so flustered and embarrassed by her comments. You just wanted to get out of there as quickly as you could, avoiding the woman for the rest of the shopping experience so she couldn’t see how badly she got to you. 

Now, stood in your shared bedroom you couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right. The new lingerie set was a stunning colour against your gorgeous skin, but it did show your stretch marks and it was something you began seeing as gross.

You ran your hands over your tummy, turning around to see the back of the set in the mirror. You sighed and tried to keep your tears at bay as you began pointing out all the flaws again.

At the beginning you’d started counting all the stretch marks, but it had gotten to the point where you’d forgotten because there were too many.

“Y/N...” 

Your vision shot to see Harry stood behind you in the mirror, in the doorway. He had dropped his jacket to the ground, stood in what seemed like shock. Your mind went straight to thinking he found you just as a horrible sight as you believed.

‘Harry... Oh God, sorry.” You rushed, trying to find something decent to cover yourself in. You couldn’t find anything nearby and you were panicking that Harry was seeing everything and were making him fall less and less in love.

Your mind was being so cruel to you.

“Y/N...”

“I know H, baby. I’ll cover up now sorry.” 

“Y/N.”

“Just give me a min...”

“Y/N.” He was now in front of you, gripping onto your cheeks to let you see him eye to eye. A tear slipped down your cheek and you couldn’t help but let your bottom lip tremble with anxiety. Your hands were shaky and Harry took a notice, so let go of your cheeks and held tightly onto your hands instead. His firm voice had managed you to capture your attention, but you were afraid for what he would say next.

“Would you like me to cover up before you start talking?” You offered.

“No.” He shook his head and gave you a look as if you’d lost you mind. “When have I ever given you a reason to cover up?” 

“It’s not you..”

“Hey.” He reached for your cheek again as your face dropped. He wasn’t giving up. “Look at me, baby. Why do you think you need to cover up? You’re in the most beautiful lingerie set I’ve ever seen and showing off your divine body, so why on Earth would I ever want you to cover up?” 

“Because...” You tried to find the right words, so Harry kissed you on the forehead as you search for them. “My stretch marks.” You spoke softly.

“What about them?” He frowned.

“They’re so ugly Harry. I hate them. Reminds me of how fat and gross I am. I know that you hate them too and I’m just sorry.” You cried, breaking your hands free from his and using them to cover your face. 

Your body felt weak and you had to sit on the edge of the bed to support you. Your legs were brought up to your body and you cocooned yourself in like a caterpillar. What that caterpillar would soon come to realise is that it was going to turn into a butterfly. With the right tender love and care.

Harry came and sat next to you, waiting for you to climb on top of him for support before touching you. His arms wrapped around your body when he leaned your body against his side. Your body was still shaking softly from your crying. You felt one of Harry’s hands caress over the soft skin where you knew your stretch marks were. You flinched at first, but found too much comfort in the action to ask him to stop.

“I’m sorry if I have ever given you the impression that I hate your stretch marks, or any part of your body for that matter. I love your body so much Y/N. It’s fucking stunning and walking into the room just now had be absolutely stunned, and mute, from being in awe of how beautiful you look.”

You lifted your head up and looked at him, earning a smile from him. He wiped his knuckles over your cheek and you breathed happily at the contact.

“You’ve never made me feel like you hate me.” You shook your head.

“Then why would you think I would?” 

“There was an employee at VS that told me you would hate the sight of them and I should find better coverage lingerie, to hide them.” You bit your lip, trying your best not to relive that moment again.

“What? How fucking dare they.” Harry rarely got angry and pissed off, so when he did you knew it was for a strong cause. Like you being insulted for example.

“Yeah. It made me feel pretty shitty.” You rolled your eyes, sniffling away the sarcastic comments.

“You better send me the location of that store, because someone is going to be fired by tomorrow.” He said and there was no point in arguing. That woman deserved to go too. “And as for you, my love. You are the most gorgeous being ever created and I love you so damn much.” He leaned over to kiss a few of your stretch marks on your under boob.

“Thank you for loving me and all my stretch marks.”

“They are a part of what makes you you and I wouldn’t ever want anything else. I love you Y/N.”

“I love you H. And thank you.”

[dienamights]

Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s):  Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date. 

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.” 

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to- 

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?” 

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now. 

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her. 

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week. 

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No!  He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.” 

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario. 

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,” 

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-” 

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.” 

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

��That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight. 

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it. 

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?” 

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high. 

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a  shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly. 

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you. 

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed. 

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

Borrowers (taglist):

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

[reflectionsofneptune]

little things about the Venus Signs

abstract dreamy things I associate with the Venus Signs in Astrology.

Aries Venus

Risk. Risks you take because you know that something exciting is on the edge of it. A good time. Fire and desire, a flammable combination you can’t help but be drawn too. Dependability. Someone who has your back. Moments to remember. Legs dangling off a balcony because when the wind moves, you’re filled with freedom and empowerment. Less thoughts. More actions. Weekends away, just because. Kisses in public, just because. Laughter. Belly laughs which’ll have you crying. Experiences to remember. Eye contact. Daring you to look away. A look that just does something to you. Promises something more.

Taurus Venus

Stability. Stability in something we’ve nurtured and are proud to share together. Routine. Loyalty. You know where you stand. An unsaid declaration to show up, in the good times and the ugly. Someone you can count on. Delicious food. Shared. Eating in bed. Fingertips that mould to every curve of your body and incite a strong feeling in your core. Physical senses heightened. Your favourite scent. Tender, routine moments of care. A love that is a grounding force when life gets a bit too much. Gifts with you in mind. That heady feeling of pleasure. Can’t get enough. Don’t want to. Feenin’. Sharing what I have, with you.

Gemini Venus

Lightness. Love is light-hearted but sentimental. Akin to cold champagne, bubbles in your tummy and warmth in your head. Laughter. Lots of it. Hanging out with other people but my body language and eye contact is on you. Late night conversations with you. Pushing your buttons because I can, but my intentions are pure. Can you deal? A willingness to delve into the deeper emotions of life. Being charmed. Flirting back and forth. Lip biting. Feigning forgetting important dates to surprise you later and show that I pay attention. Smiling till your face hurts. It’s hard to be sad when I’m around you. A desire to know what you’re thinking. 

Cancer Venus

Coming home. My door is open and every meeting feels like the first time all over again. A love that follows you everywhere. Cleanses you. Breakfast in bed. A sensitive spot touched on your back. Just. Like. That. Emotions. Emotions on overdrive. Are these mine or yours? Emotional highs. Highs that sweep you up into the heavens where everything is fluffy and soft. Feels like you’re treading warm water, soft ripples glimmer in the moonlight. Devotion. Whatever you want, I can take care of it. Being fed. And then devoured whole by the intensity. It’s all you can feel. Sink or swim, I’m right there with you.

Leo Venus

Loyalty. I vow to ride things out for you. With you. Anything for my equal. Nothing but the best. Tender moments where eyes are locked and the inner spirit is visible, for a moment. Taking pictures in iconic places. Compliments. Affirming how good you look. Back rubs. Head rubs. Hand on my heart, I swear this feels too good to be true. Playfulness. Teasing. I wanna see what you’re about. Show me how I light you up so I know i’m not the only one feeling this way. Wearing my heart on my sleeve. Nights spent enjoying each other’s company. Messing around, just because. Letting you in because you recognise the inner child within me.

Virgo Venus

Little things. The things you overlook I cover. There’s little I wouldn’t do for you. I got you. Practical gifts. Soft nagging. Simple things done together. Grocery shopping. Your favourite treat in your bag because today is a big day and I believe in you. A connection that surpasses the body but is rooted within the spirit. Acceptance of all your flaws. Loving you even more for it. A mental connection that just flows. Dry jokes. You get me. Subtle touches. Gratitude. Feelings that run deep. Putting in work because I value this connection. Showing a different side of me when I’m with you.

Libra Venus

Balance. Sweet words. An even sweeter smile, with eyes crinkling. Matching our steps when we’re together because I like being in a groove with you. Sharing a milkshake with two straws. A fairytale romance where only true love is promised. Holding hands. Thinking of you. A sense of peace together. Taking turns splitting the bill because this right here is based on give and take. Tucking that stray hair behind your ear. Looking at you pains me a little. Yin and Yang. But in a good way. Nothing is perfect, but this right here, is real close.

Scorpio Venus

Bare. That’s how it feels. Seeing beneath the physical body but wanting more. Surrounded by people but consumed by your presence. Heat. A look. A smirk. Intense feelings. Intense feelings that you can either face head or back away, either way you’ll feel it. No sharing. But no prisoners, either. Ride or die. You’re guaranteed not to be the same after. Say goodbye to the old you. Secrets shared. Each day brings us closer and I’m fast getting used to it. Flying off the edge because something greater needs to be explored. Shadow emotions not shrinking away from the light but opening up to be perceived. Deep healing. An even deeper connection. 

Sagittarius Venus

Exploration. Exploration of your mind. A raucous kind of love. Play fighting. An acceptance of you and how I come together. Falling a lil bit deeper each time you express whats on your mind. Freedom. Introducing each other to new things. Living life on the wild side. Travelling together, you and I and two backpacks. Anything feels possible when I’m with you. Remembering how to dream. Questionable decisions that feel oh so good in the end. Having faith. In a higher power, in a higher calling. In you.

Capricorn Venus

A quiet declaration of love that doesn’t need outside confirmation. You know what it is. Weekends away in the countryside. Showing up for you. Playing house. Love is made a priority. Lunch dates. Settling down in the evening just us. Brushing our teeth together and sneaking glances in the mirror. An earthy kind of love. Feeling grounded, together. Helping you take the burden off of your shoulders. You can lean on me. Dinner and drinks. Privacy. Living our best life together. Taking things slow but an end goal is in place. Doing things for long-term results. Thinking of a future where you feature. 

Aquarius Venus

Acceptance. A connection that questions everything you knew before. Shaking your world up. How open are you to the unpredictable? I wanna find out. Making a fool out of ourselves because its 1AM and we’re up. Watching the sun come up. Netflix and chill. A series we watch together, just us. It’s our thing. Listening to your dreams but getting distracted by the pure passion emanating from your eyes. Finding humour in awkward situations. Shining eyes. Things we share together. Moments of time apart that we share which doesn’t feel impending of something bad, but more of a comforting reminder that what we have is something to come back to. Trust. Sending you this meme because I saw this and thought of you.

Pisces Venus

Unconditional. A connection that doesn’t exist on a 3D level. Love that filters through into your dream world. What separates us? Not much. Fantasies materialising. Taking place on a soul level. Dreamy eyes. Looking at you just because. Looking at you when you’re not looking. Talking to you but then losing track because you look so damn good. Tracing the curves of your face. Holding hands with thumbs circling that fleshy part where the thumb meets the index. Losing myself in you. Sharing things together that can’t be explained. We don’t want too. 

| little thoughts about mercury placements

| little thoughts about mars placements

| little thoughts about saturn placements

[spxllcxstxr]

Yellow Sticky Notes • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Request: maybe an imagine where the reader is dating remus and puts sweet love notes into his books to constantly remind him how loved he is 🥺 — anon

Summary: Remus finds your lovely paper trail in his books while in the hospital wing

Warnings: mention of food, mentions of injuries, mention of full moon, Remus being a bit insecure, fluff

Word Count: ~1k

A.N: Do me a favor? Disregard the fact that Post It Notes were invented in 1980. Let’s just push that date back a tad...I honestly don’t know how I feel about this one? I love Remus so much so maybe that’s why I can’t seem to love the things I write about him because I feel I don’t do him justice. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

****

Remus sits alone in the hospital wing, all his friends stuck in class, while he’s forced to suffer in the all too familiar scratchy bed.

The full moon the night before gave him deep purple bruises all along his abdomen, a foot facing the entirely wrong way, and a brand new inflamed scar running from the bottom of his left earlobe all the way to the corner of his left eye.

When Madam Pomfrey reluctantly held up a mirror in front of him earlier in the morning, he almost snatched it out of her hands in a fit of rage and threw it across the room. He would’ve, if he wasn’t too weak to even lift up a finger.

But that was before James made his way down with a plate of breakfast, Sirius with an armful of jumpers, and Peter with a fluffy pillow from Remus’ very own bed.

You had come running down with his school bag filled to the brim with his favorite Muggle novels.

Just seeing them gave him the strength he needed to get through the rest of the day.

The four of them stayed as long as possible, but Slughorn made it very clear the last time they were late to class that detentions would be the least of your problems. He was threatening to write home, and no one wanted that.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before dashing out, his eyes trailing after your retreating form.

He sighs before picking up the novel closest to him on the nightstand. It’s one he’s almost done with, only a chapter or two left.

Remus opens to the dog-eared page, but notices something different about the paper.

Smack dab in the center of the page sits a pale yellow square, your elegant scrawl resting on top of it. Bringing the book closer to his face, he reads out your note.

Dear Remus,

Over the summer, Lily sent me a pack of these Muggle things called sticky notes. I think they’re absolutely fascinating, don’t you? There’s this sticky stuff on the back and that’s what makes it stick onto stuff. Sometimes I think these Muggles are geniuses! There’s one hundred in a pack and I’ve decided to use them all. Let’s see if you can find the other ninety-nine.

Love forever,

(Y/n)

Narrowing his eyes, he turns his head to look at the other books you brought down for him.

Slowly, he closes the book in his hands and grabs another one from his bag.

Sure enough, on the first page, there’s another pale yellow sticky note with your handwriting.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#46. You’re extremely kind and willing to help everyone. From helping first years with Herbology homework to quizzing me on History of Magic revolts because Merlin there are too many, you’re always happy to help. I don’t know how much you hear it, so thank you.

His thumb traces over the dried ink, soaking in the words. His heart swells as he bites his lip.

He repeats the process with another book.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#96. You never complain when I fall asleep after begging you to read to me in bed.

Remus snorts, remembering all the times you’ve begged him to read to you while cuddled up underneath a mountain of blankets and then hearing your light snores in the middle of the chapter. You liked to tell him it was because his voice was so calming, but he never really believed it until now.

There were four more books in his bag and he lifts the rest of them onto his bed as fast as possible. His body groans in pain, but that doesn’t matter to him.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#29. You are so strong. So much stronger than you believe. And your strength gives me hope every single day.

A blush runs up his neck, painting his face pink. Maybe because his emotions are running rampant, but he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

He swallows roughly, picking up the next book, it’s spine cracked from use.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#7. Your smile. The way it lights up the room. I know you don’t like it so much because your canines are tinted a bit yellow and your front tooth is crooked, but honestly, love, it’s beautiful. Every time it makes its way across your face I forget how to breathe and my heart skips a few beats.

Instinctively, said smiles grows wide. He must look crazy, sitting all alone, smiling maniacally at some novel but he couldn’t care less.

Excitedly, he grabs another.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#15. How on my bad days you’ll curl up in bed next to me and just hold me close to your chest. You’ll let me cry and make a snotty mess on your jumper. I swear I’m an ugly crier and yet you still look at me like I’m the most stunning person in the castle.

This note has a little heart scribbled in the corner, something he finds extremely cute.

He quickly flips open the cover of the last novel.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#78. Would it be shallow of me to say that you’re extremely attractive? Because Godric, Rem, you are so fucking amazing to look at. Like a work of art. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about your scars. Well guess what Lupin, those are beautiful too. It’s my mission to kiss every single one of those scars and I’m no quitter.

He brings his hand up to trace over the new scar, wincing. Before, he was feeling insecure about another white monstrosity ripping through his skin, but knowing that soon enough your soft lips were going to trace over said line, he felt a little bit better about it.

Though his smile has turned into a goofy grin, he’s saddened by the fact he has no more notes to look at. It’s probably for the best, so he can save them for another time.

You don’t get around to visiting your boyfriend in the hospital wing until after classes.

James and Sirius had Quidditch practice, so they dragged Peter with them so you could have some alone time with Remus.

You open the large oak doors quietly, hoping not to disturb him.

You push your way through the white curtains surrounding his bed, greeted by the sight of him surrounded by the books you brought down for him.

“How was class, love?” Remus asks, patting the spot next to him.

You take your seat, pressing your shoulder to his own.

“Quite boring, honestly—“

You’re cut off by Remus’ chapped lips connecting to your cheek. He repeats his actions, peppering seven kisses all around your face.

“What was that for, Rem?” You ask, your fingertips hovering over the spots he kissed.

“One kiss for every lovely note.” He replies, flashing you that bright smile that just makes your knees weak.

“Well in that case,” You smirk, gazing into his honey brown eyes. “I can’t wait for the other ninety-three.”

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20

[rogue-durin-16]

LIFE-SAVING SHARPIE

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst (w/ a good ending)

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, death(ish)

A/N: I'm not saying I'm incapable of writing an angsty ending for a Fred Weasley story, but I'd rather not do that, so here comes a stupid story that occurred to me this morning, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/l/n!" I sighed. "Is it true?"

"Your mom is into divination?" George question made me throw my head back in desperation as both twins made their way through the Great Hall to meet me.

I knew that day would be a bumpy one the moment we entered in the Divination classroom. The fact that a muggleborn aced a new subject since class one was strange.

I knew I would have to give some explanation to my friends after. Ron was particularly shocked by the fact that my muggle mother had taught me —against my will, may I say— lots of Divination-related things. I knew Ron, being Ron, would surely tell every soul that would listen about his discovery, but I had hoped for him to wait until the third period at least.

"Secrets spread like wildfire here." I said.

"Are you secretly a soothsayer?"

"Yes, Fred. You see, I have the Sight." I ironically stated, and, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get closer to the boy I fancied, I added "Want me to read your palm?"

They shared an amused look, fully aware that I was joking. Even in the Wizarding World, divination wasn't something to believe in.

There were supposed to be people able to see the future, such as professor Trelawney, but no student had seen her predict a thing, so she wasn't the best example.

George was the first one to sit down. "Predict my future, oh, you who were gifted with the Sight." I snorted as he laid his palm before my eyes.

I picked his hand on mines, "Hmm..." Fred hovering over my form from behind wasn't ideal for me to concentrate. "Okay so..." I felt one of his hands toying with the clasp of my necklace, brushing my nape. "Will you stop touching my necklace and sit down?" I demanded.

"Yeah Fred, sit down." George reprimanded his brother. "She's trying to see my future." I heard Fred chuntering before he plopped down on my other side, leaning on a tad too close for my liking. "Alright, fortuneteller, is there a love line?"

Of course he would ask about that. "Let's see..." I traced said line, unable to remember to the T what my mom had tried to teach me. "So, the heart line is arched... Which means..."

"That you can't tell a thing?" I slapped Fred's arm.

"Which means he's balanced." I corrected him. "You're able to realize when you need to take care of yourself, and when you should let a someone in." George seemed invested. "You'll have just one serious partner, but they'll be the right one."

"Well, that doesn't sound half bad, huh?" He looked at me with a content smile.

"My turn." Fred spoke, smacking his brother's hand away and replacing it with his left one. "The line of life or whatever." He scooted a bit closer and I felt my heartbeat pick up. "What's my fate?"

"Are you left-handed, Fred?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised, already knowing the answer. "I need your dominant hand." Oh well, that came out wrong.

"Straightforward, are we?" George snorted at his brother's remark as he exchanged hands, turning to straddle the bench to be more comfortable. "Alright, what do you see?" He had leaned on to the point where he only needed to tilt his head down a couple of inches to rest it on my shoulder.

"A hand." I deadpanned, which earned a playful push from him. "Okay, okay— I see..." A puzzled frown took over my gaze. "Wait—" I turned to George. "gimme your hand."

"What?" Fred questioned, shifting his position ever so slightly.

"Uhm..." The frown grew bigger, and I had to remind myself what I was doing was a joke. "You... don't have a lifeline?" I dubiously informed. "I mean— it sorta... Starts? but then it fades away." I widened my eyes and froze, remembering what that meant.

I saw Fred tilting his head slightly. "Is it so bad that you won't tell me what it means?" He asked jokingly in order to lighten my distraught mood.

"It— well, it means that you'll die at a young age." My eyes met his and, despite the amused smile that always danced on his lips, fear slipped out of his orbs now, too.

"Wait what?" George propped himself on his forearms to see his brother's palm. "Can't be. Check mine?"

"I just did, you git." George wasn't even smiling. Maybe he did believe it. "Yours is fine."

The three of us stayed in silence for an instant. Even if none of us believed in divination, the fact that Fred had no lifeline was rather unsettling.

"It's fine." I cleared my throat, turning to my bag and leaving Fred's hand over the table on the process. "Apart from seeing the future, I can fix lifelines." They looked at each other when they saw me grab a sharpie. "Don't move." I demanded, holding down Fred's right hand before tracing a black line where the lifeline was supposed to be. "There. A long, healthy life."

When I looked back at the twins' faces, I saw them ready to laugh. Distress had already left them, and that helped my own evaporate.

"Merlin, Y/n!" Fred dramatically exclaimed. "You've just saved my life!"

"She sure did." George agreed, patting my back.

"Now go and tell Ron to shut up." I didn't want to imagine what would happen if people started to believe I could actually predict their future; the twins were sceptic and even they had somehow fallen for it.

I was so focused on George getting up that I didn't even notice Fred's hand flipping and wrapping around mine.

A soft kiss was placed on my cheek and I felt my face heating up even before meeting Fred's proud grin. "Figured I'd give my savior something in repay." His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips for a second; it's just my imagination, I thought, unaware of Fred's thumb caressing the back of my hand until he removed it in order to stand up.

Four Years Later

FRED'S P. O. V.

One second I was laughing at Percy's joke, and the next one everything was black; not only visually, everything was pitch black in every fucking sense.

I heard nothing, I couldn't touch anything, my voice was gone.

My mind was completely blank, until a thought slipped in my brain: 'you'll die at a young age'.

My head was spiralling now. I was dead. That's what death felt like? Nothing?

Y/n's words kept going on and on, frying my brain. How ironic it was that the voice I would have forever in my mind belonged to the girl I had been in love with since I was fourteen, and the words were what we thought to be her silly prediction.

I had no idea how long it had been, but suddenly I felt it; a tear running down my cheek. A flaming hot tear, burning its way off my face. Then I felt something else, some sort of rope wrapping tight around my right hand and wrist, so tight that it made my pulse speed up.

My pulse.

It dawned on me that my heart was beating fast against my chest. It was beating.

I needed to breathe.

"FRED!" Someone forced my eyes open; It was Percy. I couldn't see him right away because the lights were blinding to my eyes, but I recognised his voice. "FRED SAY SOMETHING!"

"Y/n..." I couldn't hear my own voice, but I felt her name going through my vocal cords.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Ron cried. "you're alive-" my sight was blurry but I could pick out my younger brother's crown in front of me as he sobbed over my chest.

"We gotta get him out of here right now!!" Of course it was Hermione who got everyone moving. As both my brothers managed to pick me up, I felt my eyes closing once more. Not even the fear of not waking up again stopped me from passing out.

READER'S P. O. V.

I had volunteered as Healer to help Madam Pomfrey during the Battle, that's why it was me who received two Weasleys practically dragging a third one into the improvised infirmary.

I recognised him from his jacket. "Fred..." At first I thought it was his corpse, that's how bad he looked.

"Y/N!!" It was only when Fred seemed to tilt his head up due to Ron's cry that I reacted, rushing to help them. "Keep him alive!" I only nodded, taking Ron's place as he took off.

With one of his arms over my shoulders and the other over his brother's, we managed to carry him to one of the stretchers; his painful weak groans went directly into my ear as we moved him, triggering the tears I was holding to fall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

"—alive, somehow." Y/n's voice, though it sounded far away, let me know she was close. "No, don't wake him up."

"Listen, you gotta get him to St. Mungo." It seemed George the one talking, but his voice was too shaky to tell. "in an hour this is gonna get really ugly, I want him out."

"George, we're besieged." Her tone was hopeless.

"Look at him, You said it— It's a bloody miracle he's still breathing." my brother's voice shattered; all I wanted was to get up, hug him and say I was okay, but I felt my brain spinning once more. "Bill and I will escort you out of the castle so..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time I opened my eyes, terror inundated me; everything was dark again. I gasped for air and propped myself up, instantly regretting it. A stabbing pain attacked every part of my body, triggering a shocked cry out of me.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n whisper-shouted, before placing both her hands over my chest to push me back to the bed again. "Are you mental?" Her fingertips moved out of the way a bandage that covered my eyes. "Oi, listen," when she noticed my shaky hands desperately trying to reach my face, she took them in hers. "You're safe."

I tried to say something —anything—, but my throat was sore, and the only thing that was able to leave it was her name.

"Shhh." She hushed me, letting one of her hands travel to my face. "You have to rest." I would have sworn she was crying, but I couldn't tell. "Everything'll get better." Her thumb stroking my cheek was the most soothing thing I had ever felt, so it wasn't difficult for me to close my eyes, this time willingly, though I was equally scared. "I'll stay by your side." The reassuring squeeze her hand gave me, made me aware that she had noticed my fear.

Before drifting off, I felt Y/n's lips placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, making my heart hammer against my chest.

I was still alive.

A Month Later

READER'S P. O. V.

It was Ron who sent me an owl the moment Fred finally got out of the hospital. He informed me that, instead of going to the Burrow to rest a few days—as planned—, ha had gone straight to the shop.

That's how I found myself the next morning inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was not-so-surprisingly full of people again.

Due to the huge amount of customers, it was relatively difficult for me to spot the twins.

Apparently, I turned out to be easy to spot.

"Y/n!" I turned in the stairs' direction to be met with a very enthusiastic George who, before I could even greet him, engulfed me in a hug.

"I see you can't catch a break." I observed, pulling away with a big smile on my face. That place really made the trick to bring joy to everyone.

"You can't imagine." He replied, his gaze wandering around before pulling my hand. "Oi, Fred! Look who dropped by!" He shouted over the hubbub, leading me to the till counter, behind which I saw the reason why I had come in the first place.

Just as Fred's eyes noticed me, he attempted to rush out of the till. I left George's side as soon as I realized that he, in fact, couldn't really rush out.

"Merlin's beard!" Despite he had just had to grip the counter in order not to fall, he tried again. "Take it easy, will you?" I scolded him, steadying him by his forearms and helping him step back to rest against the till. "Do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"If you're the one taking care of me, I wouldn't complain." The first time his eyes fell on my lips, I missed it because I was still securing him. The second time it was impossible to miss. "You know? Your sharpie saved my life."

I snorted at his nonsensical words. "You're delirious, Weasley." My hands finally left his forearms, just to be picked up on his. "Still suffering from the concussion?" I joked, trying to deviate my own attention from my fast heartbeat.

Another glance at my lips.

"I should get going." George spoke behind me.

"I was going to visit you tomorrow." Fred stated, his gaze now focused on my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, love," I pointed out, motioning at him with our hands still held. "But you can barely walk."

"Yeah, but I needed to see you." He looked somehow sheepish; I doubted I had ever seen him like that before. "I'm gonna be as clear and concise as possible—" He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at me. "I'm pretty much in love with you." I didn't know my eye could go as wide as they went. "Thing's I've known for a good couple of years now." He shrugged. "Telling you scared me, but then this happened." He gestured at himself. "And now not being able to tell you scares me even more." His eyes scanned me before looking around. "This wasn't the ideal place to tell you, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I gulped, trying to process it as fast as possible.

"For Godric's sake, Y/n," he gently tugged my hand. "Say something, please." Fear started to take over him, even if he tried to keep it at bay. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, we can still be friends, I promise—"

"How do I kiss you without hurting you?" I questioned, already feeling the heat on my cheeks.

I could tell by his face that, out of everything I could have said, he was not expecting the answer I had given him. "Ever the caring one." He let go of my hands to cup my cheeks. "Just kiss me," he sounded so happy, it was contagious. "I'll deal with the pain later."

I listened to him and, holding onto his blazer, stood on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his— only because I had been wanting to kiss him for too fucking long.

I got lost in the kiss and my brain completely dismissed that an entire wall had collapsed over the boy before me just a month ago; my hands went up to his neck, pulling him closer and, consequently, earning a painful groan from him.

"Shit! sorry." I was quick to let go, suddenly very aware of our surroundings, too.

He just shook his head and pulled my back to him, this time by my hips. "I said I'll deal with it later." He spoke against my lips before going in for a second kiss.

I was more gentle now, careful not to cause him too much pain.

To our dismay, we were interrupted.

"You said love confession!" George snapped us out of it; this time the groan Fred let out was from annoyance. "not snogging session in front of our customers! Get to work!"

He huffed, unwillingly separating from me. "If you stick around until lunch time, we can resume this."

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can find something to do until then." My smile was as wide as his, and it grew wider when he pulled my into a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. "I love you too, by the way."

His laugh reverberated on his chest. "Good to know."

"Freddie! Now!" This time it was me who groaned at George's demands.

"Help me out, love." Fred requested, pulling away from me so I could help him move behind the till counter. "See you in a couple of hours?" I nodded, pecking his cheeks and walking away from the shop.

It was when I started to walk down the Diagon Alley that it clicked.

His lifeline.

The sharpie.

"OH MY FUCK—"

[prettypinkpuddles]

Sally Face X Black Reader

♡︎𝙰/𝙽: 𝚒 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚂𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

♡︎𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜: 𝙻𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕-𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝙽𝚊𝙵, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚂𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟶’𝚜-𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟶’𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚔....

♡︎𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

“Hey! Close the door!” You squeaked and hid yourself from the burning brightness emitted from the opened door. A small shadow slid through the opening of the door and quickly shut it, the word ‘sorry!’ repeated over and over.

Your eyes quickly readjusted to the darkness and you saw Sal, holding his school bag and a gameboy.

“Hey, Mask Boy.” You wiggles your toes at him and he hummed. “Was school tolerable?”

He shrugged, opening his bag and pulling out an orange car and setting it on the floor. You smiled and reached down to it, rubbing your thumb behind its ear.

“Hi Gizmo!” You grinned at the plump cat and he purred and pushed himself into your touch. Sal chuckled and sat next to his cat and leaned onto your knee. He began rambling about how his day at school was, how boring classes were, Travis, and a new oddity in the school he discovered. You listened to him curiously, albeit getting a bit agitated about Travis and his infuriating antics.

“I’ll come to school with you tomorrow….” You mumbled. “I know I don’t go much anymore, just having you and Larry give me my homework and letting you turn it in, but I’ll go with you guys tomorrow.”

Sal nodded, holding his excitement behind his mask and simply saying ‘ok’.

“You’re smiling under that mask aren’t you?” You teased and he didn’t say anything, just a noise of embarrassment. You giggled and ruffled his hair, continuing with your game.

“Did you get a new character?” Sal asked.

You sighed, “Unfornately no. They just gave me a stupid 4star claymore.”

“Hey! Claymores are badass!” Sal defended with a happy tone.

“That’s why I’d be a bow or pole arm user. Light weapons.”

You scoffed playfully, “Like you could even lift one! I bet they weight like 60 pounds!”

“Nah, catalyst needs no weight at all. Just waving your arms around with attacks.”

“Is that why you main Mona?” Sal smiled, watching as you used Zhongli’s burst to destroy a bunch of fatui.

“Hey! Mona is gorgeous.”

Sal took hold of his cat, stroking his tail. “She’s also very mysterious.”

“Which makes her even better! It’s written in the stars!” You grinned and Sal rolled his eyes.

“Ninguang’s better.”

You began quickly mashing your buttons, trying to defeat the stupid abyss lector in time so you could pass. Sal began chuckling at your rising frustration and when you started shouting for Razor’s burst to recharge, he lost it, bursting into a fit of laughter. You got really close to the TV and began shaking the controller, unleashing a purple wolf made of electro at the hydro abyss mage.

“C’mon! Just dieee!” You groaned and kept slashing the oversized fluff ball until it disintegrated into red ash. The timer stopped and it showed you with two stars. You raised the controller in the air and smiled, falling back onto Sal and cheering for yourself.

“You really hate abyss mages, huh?” He smiled at you and you pouted, raising a middle finger to the screen.

“Fuck you, fuck ya daughter, fuck ya grandmother, fuck ya dead great grandmother. Fuck you, and all ya kids. And your ugly ass motherfucking black ass son!” You jeered at the teasing enemies, a great distain for them in your heart. Sal crawled to sit between your legs and watch you blow through the spiral abyss. He urged you to use your bursts at times and would cheer for you softly whenever you managed to gain three stars. He undid his pigtails and pulled his fingers through them, even using it’s length to try and distract you.

You played for hours, co-opting with Sal and Larry to fight bosses, help Larry with his trash character builds and unlock all the waypoints in his world.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

You looked at the school’s name hanging above it’s entrance with annoying and a twinge of fear. You didn’t even realize how long you were there until a hand intertwined itself with your left one. You looked at Sal, a smile coming to your face and you walked inside. You waved to Maple and Chug, seeing them at Maple’s locker with a a notebook and a pencil. You didn’t bother to stop at your locker, deciding to carry your bag with you throughout the day.

“Hey Y/N!”

You looked to Ashley who was putting lipgloss on in her locker mirror. She turned to you and waved to you, walking up to you and Sal. You smiled at her and the three of you walked to your first classes.

When you sat down, you heard your teacher make a hum towards you. You looked up at him and he lifted his chin.

“I was wondering when you’d return, Y/N.” He croaked, his neck turning to look at the door. “I figured you’d drop out.”

A few giggles came out from the corners of the class. You felt an arm on your side, telling you to let it go but you tilted your head with a shit-eating grin, “And I thought you’d be fired, yet we’re both here so..”

Your teacher narrowed his eyes at you, which only made your grin grow with satisfaction. He began teaching, mostly boring stuff about biology. The only problem was it was so boring you felt like sleeping, until a buzz on your waist kept you awake. You pulled up your phone and read a text from Larry, asking you to bring the ‘stuff’ from your locker. You replied with an ‘ok’ and continued to pretend to pay attention. Your imagination began to wander, thinking of how big Bowser must be. At least 9 feet, but that’d make Mario an Italian midget…. And peach would be like 5’7.

Lunch was okay, but you didn’t eat the school’s lunch, not after the bologna incident. You watched as Sal came up to you from his geometry class and sat beside you. Larry and Ashley joined you. Larry gave you a look and you pulled up a grocery bag to the table. Larry smiled wide and untied it, pulling out a container of Chinese food. Ashley gasped and asked how he got it.

“Don’t worry I got us all food.” He reassured and pulled out a box of tacos for Ashley and a container of sushi for Sal.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were going to school today.” Larry said.

“You’re good. I’ll steal you guys’ food.” You giggled and immediately snatched a taco from Ash. She made a face and it made you snort. You immediately covered your mouth of embarrassment, your friends laughing at the noise.

“It’s ok, it’s cute Y/N. I promise.” Sal looked at you with warm eyes and you nodded shyly, biting into your stolen taco. Larry handed you a piece of drenched chicken bite and you took it, biting into it.

“Yknow, we should actually go out for lunch. It’d be more fun.” Ashley beamed.

“Yeah but I don’t wanna hear a teachers mouth about us leaving….” You rolled your eyes at the thought.

“What’re they gonna do? Tell us we can’t eat?” Larry laughed at his words and Sal shrugged.

“This isn’t too bad of an idea… putting stuff in one of your lockers.” He said and you nodded, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him to whisper in his ear.

“On your birthday, I’ll leave some applesauce and pizza for you in my locker. Your favorite brand and shop, ok?”

Sal nodded eagerly, his pigtail bouncing with happiness. The four of you looked around to see some kids leaving for next class and you decided to do the same.

“Hey, shithead!”

Sal sighed at the aggressive voice and turned to see Travis, an aggravated scowl on his face. You rolled your eyes at the dumb bully and started to pull Sal to your next class.

“What the hell do you want Travis?” He said, rather annoyed at these interactions with the boy.

“You think because your bitch is here you can act all hard in front of her?!” He shouted, which made you a little pissed. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, what?”

“Travis, you aren’t even worth my time.” You declared and turned away from him. A set of heavy footsteps came rushing towards you and Sal, a hand shoving you to the ground and a few thuds landed in your eardrums. You saw yourself on the tiles, and Sal on his knees holding his mask. You stood up and stomped toward Travis. He had a nonchalant look on his face, asking you what you were gonna do, that you wouldn’t dare hurt him. You whipped your hand across his cheek, pushing him back into the lockers. You stared daggers at him as you helped Sal stand and walked him to another hall. As Travis tried to get to Sal once more, you stepped toward him and pushed him back again, a look of rage on your face was enough to tell him to stop.

You looked at Sal once you were around the corner, trying to see if he was ok, but he hid his face. His mask was clutched to his chest and his fingers did their best to cover his scarred skin. You peeled them off, telling him to let you look and he closed his eyes in fear that you’d be disgusted. You rubbed his jaw, blood forming on his bottom lip and a gross slit on it. You wiped it gently, fear of opening the gash or hurting your precious Sal. You eyed the bruised lip, decided to lean forward and give the blue haired boy a soft kiss. He looked at you with wide eyes as you smiled sweetly at him.

You put his mask back on mad began to go to your next class but he stopped you.

“Why’d you…. Why’d you do that?”

You patted his head. “That’s what couples do. We’re no different, Sal. C’mon.”

He nodded and the two of you quickly rushed to class.

☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾

You heard the door of your room open and turned to see Sal and Larry walk in. You nodded to them and they waved to you.

“Did you bring my food?” You asked and Larry put a bag of sweets on your dresser. You thanked him and Sal sat beside you as you clicked away at your mouse and keyboard. He watched as you looked at the cameras, flipped your bear mask on and winded up the music box.

“Hey… heyyyy, get back.” You ordered as you flashed the red fox. Then your fingers fumbled to pull the mask over your head and a broken down animatronic appeared in your office. You gasped held your breath, throwing the protective mask on, but to no avail. You died.

You groaned in frustration and reached for the box of sweetness, grabbing a soft cookie and biting into it.

“Why do you okay that game? It’s so scary..”

Larry mumbled. You smiled at his comment, saying the game wasn’t scary and that Larry was just a baby. He tried to defend himself, saying that the game was scary but when you started up the game and he saw the shiny new chicken move to another room, he shrieked.

You laughed as he proved your point and kept playing your game, trying to beat the night and advance. You listened to Sal and Larry go on about their school day and you laughed as you kept your focus on your game.

“Did Travis do anything today?” You asked and Sal shook his head. Larry gave you a look as you reached for another cookie, asking if something happened when you went to school. You shook your head and explained what happened with you and Sal.

“That little…..!” Larry fumbled his words from anger and you waved it off, telling him to calm down and to drop it.

“That blond turd won’t do anything. And if he does, I’ll kick his ass.” You declared. Sal smiled at your words, thanking you for your help earlier. You turned and smiled at him, “I’m your partner in crime. It’s part of my job description.” You turned back but saw a bright blue bunny with rosy cheeks jump for you, killing you. You groaned in frustration, hearing one of Larry’s screams of terror. Sal chuckled and apologized for distracting you.

“Alright you dumb animals…. Let’s see what you got.”

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.5

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4

Summary: someone please give Nicole a break for the love of Miranda. And there be smut y'all

---

Seeing Cassandra's softer side made something flutter within Nicole's chest. The brunette was a sadist through and through. Witness to that fact was the array of torture devices that littered the dungeons. Not to mention the prisoners she frequently killed, only to haul them on the autopsy tables in her study to be examined, chopped and sectioned by the both of them.

But there was an uncharacteristic sort of gentleness in the way their lips slid against each other, sharp teeth occasionally biting down on Nicole's lower lip but never enough to draw blood. In the way Cassandra would drag sharp nails against flushed skin, but not go beyond the pleasurable amount of pain. Even the glint in golden eyes when Nicole went over some old notes of hers on more tricky anatomy concepts. Having an exclusive look at this side of Cassandra felt beyond intimate and the thought almost made her miss when the brunette spoke from where she was leaning over a notebook.

"Okay let's just wrap this up, I have plans."

Nicole hummed, dropping the liver she was holding in a freezer bag. Most body parts were already bagged and ready to be picked up by Cynthia and her undercooks, they were just putting into practice some things the brunette was curious about. She dropped the now blood soaked leather gloves in the sink and went to sit by Cassandra, who was scribbling some final notes.

"In that case I'll go enjoy a cup of tea," she sighed. "Tea that I had to skip because someone was eager to start on this early."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by her usual smirk. "I meant plans with you."

Oh? That was new. The brunette laughed at Nicole's wide eyed expression and snapped her notebook shut. She took her sweet time putting it on the shelf with the others and checking the time, pretending not to notice the redhead's inquisitive expression. Then, she lifted Nicole’s chin with a thankfully not covered in blood finger.

"Don't get me wrong I love it here but," she grimaced, "it gets stuffy sometimes. Especially in summer."

Well, that much was true. The undergrounds of the castle were oddly warm, although not downright hot, compared to what one would expect from a castle. Pair that with the annoyingly humid atmosphere and having to wear a leather apron and gloves so as to not completely ruin your outfit and you got the perfect recipe for discomfort. She really ought to ask Cassandra about installing some kind of better ventilation down here.

"Meet me in the attic in about… an hour." She leaned down and their mouths were so close that Nicole could feel icy breath on her lips.

The attic? She's never been to the attic, it was not only off limits for most staff but also dangerous if rumors were to be believed. Not that she had the clarity of mind to voice any concerns when Cassandra finally leaned in to kiss her, complete with a nip on her lower lip that made Nicole’s breath hitch.

---

The fact that Nicole had no idea how to get to the attic could be a slight problem. She had asked Anita, but not only did she not know, she also seemed mortified by the idea. Another maid just gave her vague directions to look for a ladder on the top floor. As if that wasn't like trying to find the needle in a haystack. Or the needle in a giant castle.

She was just wandering around the top floor, praying not to stumble upon anyone who would be less than thrilled to see her there. A sigh of relief escaped past her lips when she heard familiar buzzing and steps coming towards her.

"Oh Cas-" she swallowed her words when she noticed red hair spilling from underneath a black hood.

"Nicole! What are you doing here hmm?" Her inquisitive hum was way too exaggerated the same way her fangs seemed too sharp when she grinned.

"I was just looking for Ca- lady Cassandra. She asked me to meet her in the attic."

Daniela's mouth fell open, almost forming an O shape. Then back to her characteristic giggle, almost as if laughing at a joke only she knew.

"What, you don't know how to get there?"

"...Not really," she sheepishly admitted.

And that was a mistake. Nicole would've preferred to wander the hallways until Cassandra eventually got bored enough of waiting and decided to come see where her glorified lab partner was. But her plan was ruined by Daniela wordlessly grabbing her arm and pulling her in the opposite direction she was going in. She even went the extra mile to partially turn into a swarm, which made Nicole's panic skyrocket. She didn't mind bugs. But having hundreds of them fly all around you, accompanied by manic giggling was a whole other thing.

Before she knew it though, Daniela let go of her arm, laughing a little at Nicole's stumbling. She gestured dramatically towards a ladder and said:

"There you go. Say hi to Cassie for me."

"Th- thank you my lady." And with a small bow of the head she grabbed the ladder and started ascending on shaky legs.

"And enjoy your date," she called out, once Nicole was at the top of the stairs.

Blushing, she decided to ignore the comment and start looking for the sister less likely to turn her into fly food.

The attic looked… old. It was obvious that people didn't come here often, although someone probably did clean it regularly as there were no cobwebs nor dirt on any surfaces, aside from some dust. It was full of neatly arranged boxes and crates, their contents as mysterious as the castle's inhabitants. Tentative steps took her across ancient floorboards, navigating old rooms.

"Rah!"

Nicole damn near jumped out of her skin, a string of curses spilling past her lips. "Jesus fucking christ Cassandra!"

The brunette only laughed, hands on her knees and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

"That's what you get for making me wait for so long."

"I didn't even know where the attic entrance was! Good thing one of your sisters came to my rescue." Nicole rolled her eyes at the last word.

Cassandra stopped laughing, eyes narrowing slightly. "Which one?"

"Uh- Danie-"

"Did she hurt you?" Cassandra grabbed her arms, golden eyes looking for any visible injuries.

Nicole just laughed softly, taken off guard by the display of concern. "No, no. Just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all."

With an eye roll, Cassandra guided her further into the attic, through more dusty rooms, until they reached a short corridor, light spilling from its other end. The room they entered was relatively small, almost half of it occupied by stacked boxes as if it used to be a storage room like the rest of the attic and nobody bothered to completely clear it out. A few pieces of furniture were also present: a couch with a coffee table in front of it and paintings leaning against a wall to collect dust. This room however had a window, left slightly ajar, that allowed you to see the mountains stretching on the horizon, crowned by the beautiful orange hues of dusk.

Nicole moved to the glass to take in the view, mouth almost hanging open, when an ungodly screech from outside made her backpedal straight into Cassandra.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked, eyes widening at the sight of flying creatures circling the towers.

"Mother's flying guard dogs."

"They sound the same way I'd imagine the souls of the damned do." Nicole didn’t take her eyes off the ghoulish creatures, almost as if keeping eye contact would dissuade them from attacking.

Cassandra just shrugged. "Wouldn't be too far off. Also here." She sat on the couch, gesturing towards a cup.

Nicole went to sit by her side, grabbing the mystery cup. She frowned slightly when the steam reached her nose, bringing with it a pleasant minty and honey aroma.

"Tea?"

"Since you were so disheartened about having to skip it earlier," Cassandra averted her eyes, seemingly finding the curtains very interesting.

After a long sip, she let out a content sigh. The warmth was more than welcomed, despite the weather. She set the cup back on the table and turned her attention on the brunette, now fidgeting with the corner of a pillow.

"Thank you," Nicole said, leaving a small kiss on her cheek.

Cassandra smiled and turned around, locking their lips in a kiss that at first mimicked her gentleness, but soon turned hungry when dainty hands made their way to the brunette's nape, pulling her closer. She shifted them both, pushing Nicole down on the pillows littering the couch, until she was laying on top of her, legs on each side of her waist. Her focus was on leaving a trail of nips and kisses down Nicole's neck when the redhead jumped and barely stifled a yelp at another screech from outside.

"Ugh what the fuck is today, scare me out of my mind day?"

"How are you scared of these but countless dead bodies don't phase you?" Cassandra laughed, sound muffled by her position with her mouth against Nicole's neck.

"I used to work on corpses, not on ugly gargoyles that could chew my face off!" She gestured wildly at the window and the few creatures visible outside.

"You what?"

"You...didn't know?" Nicole couldn't help a giggle at Cassandra's confused expression.

"How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought your mother told you already. Or your sisters," Nicole shrugged.

"They knew?!" And, after something seemed to dawn on her, "Oh I'm gonna kick both their asses."

Nicole couldn’t help letting out a small laugh, placing her hands on Cassandra's cheeks and, with a pout for dramatic effect, "Right now?"

As much as the sight was both funny and endearing, the warmth starting to pool at her core was making her beyond impatient.

The indignation in golden eyes was replaced by an all too familiar glint and black painted lips went back to their work on Nicole's neck. Sharp fangs pierced the skin there, just enough to draw a few drops of blood and a whine. After licking every last bit of it, Cassandra's lips moved to the collarbones and lower, hands slowly starting to undo the buttons of Nicole's pesky uniform that was in the way.

When both the button up and the skirt were discarded on the floor Nicole tangled her fingers through black hair and pulled Cassandra in for a kiss. Her free hand went to the back of the dress, pulling down the zipper and guiding it off of the brunette's shoulders. Once both of them were left only in undergarments, Nicole pulled back to look up at the brunette.

"If I knew I was supposed to dress up I would've asked the chambermaid if there's anything fancy in the uniform stash," she said, taking in the beautifully intricate lace of Cassandra's matching bra and underwear, complete with a giggle at her awful joking.

The brunette only raised an eyebrow. "Mhm I can take care of that. Not like you'll need these for long though." Her hands reached under Nicole's back to unclasp her bra and in mere moments that too was on top of the pile of clothes on the floor.

Then Cassandra bent down to crash their lips together, tongue slipping past Nicole's lips when a wandering hand elicited a gasp from her.

Cassandra was by no means a patient person. Quite the opposite actually. But teasingly dragging her nails across sensitive skin only to feel the girl under her squirm and whine when her hand just won't go where she needed it made waiting all the more sweet. Slender fingers started to toy with the edges of Nicole's underwear. After a groan against her lips and an impatient tug of hair, Cassandra finally gave in, slipping two fingers inside her. She felt Nicole arch into her, a broken moan escaping past her lips when she broke the kiss to let her head fall back into the cushions. Cassandra took that as an opportunity to kiss the length of her neck, occasionally stopping to suck or bite at a spot, enjoying every gasp and moan she drew out of the redhead.

With Cassandra's rough pace it didn't take long before Nicole was clenching her thighs around her hand. Cassandra kissed her, swallowing her moan as she came.

The small room in the attic, Cassandra's drawing room she would later find out, was the perfect secluded spot. They spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other. First evening of many.

[violettelueur]

— ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + KUGISAKI NOBARA || COMFORTING THEIR S/O DURING THEIR PERIOD

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 27 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ request : hello!! I love ur blog sm it’s so cozy and safe!! i just wanted to order a black coffee of being comforted and taken care of by the main three (yuuji, megumi, and nobara) when the reader is on their period ;-; tysm!! ❤️❤️

↳ barista’s notes : hi there! let me admit this about my time of the month, i only get cramps/backache on like the first day and people tell me they don’t realise i’m not my time since i don’t have mood swings - which is surprising because i thought i did  ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and come to the cafe again soon ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

The day your period arrives, Itadori will have no idea and will probably be confused about why one second you are angry and the next you are crying - he is just a confused little baby.

Of course, Kugisaki will call him an idiot and will inform him that you are on your period if he hasn’t figured it out yet.

Once he comes into your room and finds you huddling under a mountain of blankets, he will slowly and carefully crouch down to your height and ask if you need anything - since asking if you were okay was not the ideal question (also advised by Kugisaki).

To be honest with you, all the knowledge and advice he has gotten about periods is from Kugisaki - I feel like she made him pay as well for lessons.

Of course, if you tell him you buy you chocolates, he will come back from the convenience store with more than that like snacks, water, chocolate, sweets, ice-cream and pads/tampons.

Just know there are multiple types of pads/tampons in the plastic bag because he doesn’t know what to pick for you and, of course, you thank him because you know he tried his best.

He will also provide you with a hot water bottle that probably has a cute animal cover on it for you since he doesn’t want the heat as well as plastic to burn your skin.

Itadori will cuddle you if you ask for it while placing his hand on your lower stomach to help soothe the cramps with your permission of course.

He will also set up yours or his laptop to watch movies and anime together, he will probably eat some of the snacks he has bought you - which made him learn to buy his whole for the next month.

Sometimes both you and Itadori will have a game night together, where you both would have your Nintendo Switches - which I don’t have personally - and probably play Animal Crossing - New Horizons to help make you forget your pain.

Sukuna will mock him for being a tiny bit scared at your aggressive behaviour when your mood suddenly switches.

In conclusion, Itadori is someone that will be wary around you since he doesn’t want a Kugisaki 2.0 to be his girlfriend but will try his best to make you feel the least amount of pain as much as he can.

Unlike Itadori, Fushiguro will know when you have started since he does have an older sister as well as two female cousins within his family.

When you had your first period during yours and Fushiguro’s relationship, he probably marked it on his calendar and has it on a series for it every month.

Fushiguro knows that you will come to his room when you are on and just flat drop flat on his bed because his scent helps you to forget the pain - this happens with me like sometimes the smell of lavender helps with my cramps...maybe it’s just me.

You probably know this but Fushiguro has all the essentials you need in his dorm kitchen and bathroom because of your monthly visits - he is prepared and very organised.

He will make sure you have eaten first before giving you painkillers since he wants you to feel somewhat better than you are now.

Fushiguro will summon one of his rabbits for you to cuddle with since he knows that some sort of warmth helps you - the thing is once the rabbit is in your arms, it is not escaping.

If you are having back pains, Fushiguro will help you by massaging your back to help comfort you - his divine dog will probably use its paws to help as well or maybe the rabbits will bounce on your back, I don’t know.

If you ask for something, Fushiguro is already on it and has it prepared as I have mentioned - he just doesn’t want to deal with your sudden lack of patience since he knows that you can get irritated very quickly.

If you suddenly start crying, it is over for Fushiguro because he wouldn’t know how to comfort you - his shikigami will do a better job than him and if Kugisaki was with him, she would yell at him 100%.

He would start by holding you in his arms but he will be stiff, of course, that doesn’t matter because you will tightly hold him back - which surprises him since for some reason this hug is stronger than your other ones.

If you want cuddles from him, he will be hesitant at first because of your mood swings, but once you give him the puppy dog eyes, he can’t resist you and will join you under his covers.

In conclusion, your monthly visit to Fushiguro’s dorms is one of his favourites because that means he gets to come back from missions and find you in his room, he is always prepared and ready to handle the situation - even though, he is quite wary of the short-temper that you have for the next 5-7 days.

The expert of periods is here! Kugisaki Nobara is the one to be with when you have your period because this girl probably knows everything compared to Itadori and Fushiguro.

When I think about it, she probably has spare pads/tampons in her bags/pockets and will offer one to you when you need it.

However, unlike Fushiguro, she probably doesn’t have any painkillers with her and will probably have to make a trip for you to get some or ask Fushiguro if he has any to save time.

You don’t have to worry about snacks because I know she has a stash of sweets and cakes in her dorm room and will give you some of it - mostly likey chocolate cake or chocolate-covered strawberries.

She already has a water bottle prepared for you as well as a back massager because she is boujee with that Jujutsu Tech money that she has been provided with.

Like Itadori, you and Kugisaki will play games together - I feel like people forget she’s a gamer since she did mention Smash Bro’s in the anime and little scenarios in the manga as well - especially battle games as a way to release your anger from the pain you are suffering from.

If you ever cry about being ugly - because we are emotional - she will hype you up with an angry tone: “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT BABE? YOU ARE GORGEOUS, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL, STRONG AND AMAZING, DONT SAY ANYTHING OTHER THAN THAT!”

Kugisaki will also do your makeup since she wants you to feel your most beautiful since she and you know that breakouts during periods are just not it.

She will also help you with your skincare and probably introduced to some new products along the way since why not? 

You and Kugisaki will cuddle a lot during the beginning week and you both will probably have matching pyjamas on because you both just give off cute couple outfits vibes even when you both don’t go out.

Sometimes during your cuddling sessions, you and Kugisaki will be looking at her phone swiping through a few clothing sites and suggesting what you both should buy for your next date together and maybe research a few new cafes to try out.

Definitely will send cute selfies together to help you feel beautiful to the boys on the group chat because they need to know that you are in pain and they should send their condolences.

Netflix and ice-cream will be an everyday thing for the whole week you are on and to be honest, it is better than any date because you both are together with no distractions.

In conclusion, Kugisaki will make the time during your period a self-care girl’s week for the both of you and this will happen when she is on as well - and please, when you are both on, it is a nightmare for Itadori and Fushiguro (they will be nervous and avoid you both)

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 2

“Since when do we buy each other sextoys?”

> genre : light angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 5k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; chaotic oc; clueless koo

previous - next

It all starts with the first box and the vague memory of a warm touch on your face.

When you wake up that morning, groggy from exhaustion and the sensation of having spent the night waking up, again and again, you sense something. You struggle to point out if you’ve dreamt or if it really happened, but there’s the lingering of a warm hand's trace, cupping your cheek, soothing the stress lines on your forehead, and softly brushing your hair back from your face. You can’t tell if it’s happened but it left a lovely sensation both on your skin and heart. 

You get up and out of bed, slowly stroll to your living room with a lazy hand raising to your head, meaning to scratch at the snake nest you expect to be sitting on it. Instead, your fingers are met with a rather neat braid you definitely didn’t go to sleep with as you were too fucking done with this day to even try and deal with your tight bun -the very bun that elongated your time to fall asleep by at least a good half an hour. The same fingers that caressed your face took care of your hair and you know exactly to whom they belong. 

Of course, giddiness ensues and the mildly serious feeling of mortification -you despise the idea of not knowing in what state he found you, in what state of ugly, of dishevelled, of smelly. There’s no room for embarrassment in this friendship, not this kind anyway, fortunately or not, he’s seen you at your worst (at a time when you didn’t care much if he did or not) so it counters, always a bit, the shame.

He hasn't left your side yet, has he? And he’s exposing himself to this face of yours, so why should you feel bad about it? He sneaks into your apartment at night just to brush your face and bring the covers up to your chin, tuck you nicely in as if he’s your mom or something, so why should you care. He doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems to mind. He’s the best of friends. The best of all the people you know and the best of your friends. 

And of course, naturally fitting this role, you’d find the morning of Christmas, a mysterious box you’ve never seen before sitting on your coffee table. 

The girls, your friends, have presents for you, you know they do, but yesterday you were working and couldn’t see them, therefore, the little celebration was reported and you didn’t expect, you wouldn’t expect them to come at night or early in the morning to bring you your gifts. It can wait (so they decided). 

But Jungkook is sweet like no one else is. 

And he came to wish you a merry Christmas even if you were too tired to wish him back and he left a present for you. 

There’s not a name attached to it but it’s obvious it comes from him. There’s just a post-it he stole from your desk, with a Merry Christmas written on it, the lines of the letters, round and neat, you’d recognize from any other lettering and a bunny with teeth as big as the eyes smiling at you, drawn next to it. 

The box is so pretty, you feel an actual pressure thinking about opening it, as if there is a certain way, a proper way, to go about it. 

And apparently, there is. You go wash your face and rinse your mouth, prepare yourself one of your good teas, tear the curtain wide open and slowly, almost ceremoniously, take a seat on the ground, right in front of it.

The box is neat. You don’t know what’s inside, probably a perfume or some kit for the bath you’d assume, but you already know that whatever is inside, even if it’s not of your liking -which is impossible, it comes from Jungkook-, will be balanced out by the appearance of this perfectly elegant, tasteful box that you’ll use again to stock anything, maybe your face masks, maybe nothing -it’ll just sit, looking good on a shelf. 

It’s a pastel blue, with a black rose drawn on top of it, the icon to a brand you absolutely don’t recognize. With fingers trembling with excitement you drag the box to yourself, it’s mildly heavy, for some reasons, it gives you a little rush of anxiety. There’s just a tiny black ribbon holding the box firmly closed. A tiny pull on it and it slips open. 

Slowly you lift the lid, a grin already plastered on your face, hurting your cheeks. You expect a blinding magical light to come out of it, with the sound of bells ringing near your ears and sense to suddenly knock into you as you’d understand what wondrous present is in front of you.

But none of it comes. There's just a thing hidden inside a black satin bag.

It’s not a perfume nor a bath kit and you’re confused.

A bit scared.

Honestly, maybe a little shameful part of you has guessed it. But the louder yet weaker rest of you can’t see it. It would be too... ludicrous. And wouldn’t make sense, would it? You’ve never actually seen any in real life so how would you know what the packaging would look like and how would you come to this conclusion now? And how, why, how would he, Jeon Jungkook, come about to offer you this?

Doesn’t make any sense. 

But somehow, when you pick up the courage to open the little bag and drag the object out of it, you hardly even gasp in surprise when you discover a dildo. You just let it drop to the table, thumping loudly the fake wood. 

Why did you guess it to be that and why did he get you this shit?

Scorching red seize your face and your whole being.

You are infuriated.

How dares he? You are mortified.  How dares he?

What does this fucking mean? 

A joke?

Is it a joke?

If it a joke then what’s the fucking point? It’s not fucking funny. It’s weird as hell and you can’t believe he came in the middle of the night, pretending to be Santa to leave you a fucking kidding present as if your miserable life needed that. 

And if it’s not then what the actual fuck? Does he think you’re that desperate? Does he have really no notion of boundaries?

Conveniently your phone lays centimetres away from the offending thing, you don’t even need to get up to grab it and therefore, you start looking furiously for his name in your recent call list. After only two rings as if he was just expecting your call, his bright hello reaches your ear. 

“What the actual fuck, Jeon?” He must hear the madness in your voice, both the anger and the hysteria. There’s a pause during which he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a sound and you even check your screen to make sure he hasn’t hung up on you. 

“That’s- not- the reaction I expected.” He sounds sheepish. Mumbled words, lisped syllables, long pauses. 

“What did you expect?” You yell a bit, you can just picture him, dragging the phone out of earshot and winding, the same way you do when your mom who doesn’t get the concept of telephone screams in it each time she calls you. The realization hits you, that in your quiet little apartment, in this (for once) quiet morning, you are screeching like a banshee. You quiet down instantly, some of the anger soothed down by embarrassment. “Are you insane?” You whisper in his ear and comically, he starts whispering too, with the same alterations to his usually bright and open tone. 

“M’not. I just- you said that’s what you wanted so I got it for you.”

Now he’s making stuff up and blaming this insanity on you and that serves to raise a bit more the bar of anger -along with the loudness of your voice, “When have I ever said that I wanted a-“ You choke on your own saliva once your brain realizes that you’re supposed to say the word, out loud, to him. In an angry whisper, as if someone, your mother, for example, could be listening “fucking dildo!” You blush furiously at that and it’s ridiculous. Probably the reason why you didn’t own one in the first place and maybe shouldn’t yet. Because you’re a grown-ass woman of a quarter of a century, living alone and admittedly independent and responsible for your own existence, but you can’t even say the word “dildo” out loud to this asshole of a friend who apparently, and that’s new news, doesn’t have an issue talking about sex and everything related to it with you. 

“Y-you said-“ There’s a pregnant pause. You can’t know for sure since you’re not seeing him if he’s faking it or not but he sounds confused as hell. Like he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s wrong. Moron. “You said you wanted sex but not a boyfriend so I thought- it’s pretty much- it’s exactly what it is. Why are you so mad?”

The question in itself serves to drag you a little further over the edge. So much so, it clogs your brain with anguish and leaves you unable to give him an answer.

When he’s starting to talk again, maybe ask again his question, you just hung up, slamming your phone down on the carpet. 

You hear it vibrate to life twice before it shuts down completely. Good. At least he knows you well enough, still, to assume rightfully so that you won’t pick up his calls anymore. Not today.

You just have the time to pack the dildo back in its bag and inside its box, throw away your tea that tastes unbearably bitter and maniacally scrub your face in an attempt to get rid of the red patches that don’t want to fucking leave before the telling high beeps of your front door’s digital lock alert you. Your face is soaking in cold water, another attempt to cool it, your face and your troubled mind.

You mean to ignore him. Dipping your head further in the filled up sink, closing your eyes tight shut hoping somehow it’ll help you push aside the calls of your name better.

For a few seconds, it works. You can’t hear him anymore. You wonder if the furious pleas you were chanting in your head could have been loud enough to make the sound of the door slamming behind him as he would have left, completely quiet.

He’s such a try-hard. You hung up on him because he’s saying batshit crazy things and his first reflex is to barge in your house again. You really need to change your lock and not tell him. You can do that. You’re an adult and you have the right to your own fucking place. It’s not a fucking benevolent stay in, for fuck's sake. 

The cold water really seems to work. You feel better, light-headed, coming down after the earlier hysteria. And knowing that he’s left and won’t pursue this mess any further, for now, surely helps a lot. 

Except it doesn’t last for, as soon as your face leaves the water, your hands reaching clumsily for a towel that falls magically in them, one wipe at your eyes and your worst nightmare is standing right in front of you. 

“Fucking- Jungkook!” Burying your face back in the towel, drying your face as much as possible, maybe even trying for a second to suffocate yourself, you wish vainly that when you’ll take it off he would have disappeared.

He is still here though. Watching with dark eyes and a straight severe line replacing the cute button he owns for a mouth, he looks awfully serious for a guy that’s never really serious. Your towel ends up centimetres away from his face, he catches it right before it touches him. You hoped it would blind and confuse him momentarily, long enough for you to escape but of course, this guy would never miss a shot, even a surprise one. 

“Why are you like this?” He asks when you try and push him from the ribs, out of the door frame. You hate that you think about it. About his chest being so hard and warm and his fucking smell of sweat that you’d recognize amongst any others (pretty easily as any other makes you gag and this one, probably because you’re a primary animal guided by hormones, leaves you dizzy and wanting). He doesn’t budge until he decides to, mercilessly stepping aside to let you through. Because you’re an idiot, you don’t think and head for the living room and it’s only once you’re there, very aware of his steps following you, that the devilish object of your discord is right fucking there, obnoxiously sitting on the middle of your coffee table. You groan and squeeze your eyes tight.

What meditation technique, an extra effective one, could you use right now before you definitely lose it and throw yourself out the window?

Before you find one, you end up clinging to the opposite wall, forehead pressed to it, back to him, in a vain attempt to suppress yourself from the situation. You might look a little insane or at best, somehow on edge, but who cares at this point?

“Jungkook, if I don’t pick up your call, do you think I want to see your face?” 

“But why though?” His tone is still harsher than usual. You notice it and you notice you don’t hate it either. What a little bitch you are. If you like his usual self, with the bright smile, soft words, boisterous laugh, dainty manners, you can’t deny that this rougher version of him, genuinely pissed off as you’ve never seen him, tickles your fancy. You’re fucked. “Seriously these days you- you’re such-“

“I’m what?” You bark, swirling on your feet, expression distorted by an offence he hasn’t even made yet. You completed the sentence he’s never finished with terrible words that you’ve never heard him use talking about anyone: bitch, hysterical, cunt. 

“You’re trying to pick a fight with me all the fucking time, I don’t get it!”

Now you feel terrible. You’re still bothered by the raw edges of his tone, it’s literally sending electric shocks to your lower tummy. But his eyebrows have dropped and his fiery dark eyes have turned shiny and sad, your heart hurts in your bosom.

Ugh.

You’re such a bitch. 

“I’m sorry. I know I’m insufferable. I’m on my period. Sorry.” You send a mental apology to womanhood. You're just an idiot lacking imagination. 

Jungkook frowns, his eyebrows dancing in all kind of ways, before they settle for an, unfortunately for you, attractive finale, one straight down, one tilt up. He stares at you, dubious. 

“For three weeks. You’ve been on your period for three weeks.”

The first thing you take notes of is the fact that he dated it way shorter than you would have. Honestly, you found yourself becoming a weirdo with inappropriate feelings that reindeer you into an asshole for at least a month and a half. Before that, it was extremely tamed, totally under control. You’d just notice his handsome face and cute smiles and nice smell, thinking “oh yeah that’s right. He’s kinda attractive. How funny I never really noticed.” And slowly it progressed to not being able to handle him touching you without having something close to a panic attack.

The second thing you note is that he doesn’t believe you. His stare is insistent, turns a bit dark as he lingers, studying your own eyes with judgment in his. He’s frowning even more, looks down at the floor and sighs so deep, heartbreakingly so. He looks hurt that you’re lying and don’t want to share what's really been up with you. If only you could be a better liar. 

“It happens sometimes, all women are diff-“ 

He just sat down on your sofa, eyes fixed on the blue box. Before you can finish your sentence, he sends you a glare that awfully looks like a threat. You shut up. He doesn’t believe you anyway. He knows you and your periods (sort of) way too well. He knows you’re in pain the first day, you’re a bit tender on the following ones and he takes it upon himself to be gentler and not try to play WWE with you on those but you don’t turn into a mean dragon. This much he knows for sure. 

There’s something he’s seeking for within the box. He’s grabbed it, holds it now in between his fingertips, piercing virtual holes into it. It’s probably the answer he didn’t find in your eyes. 

It makes you flush furiously. Seeing his pretty hands with his long fingers touching it. Here’s the reason, he would have caught it on your cheeks if he wasn’t so busy looking for it elsewhere. 

“I really thought that- you’d like it.” He sounds so saddened. You’re caught off guard. Again. So this present wasn’t meant to be a joke. It is a genuine one. It makes sense that he’s hurt then. You’re shitting all over his gift but how could you not? How could he believe that you could just accept that for a random gift? Slowly he makes the top of the box slide up, pout sucked in in concentration, dimple out. Your heart seems to stop at that. He’s not going to take it out, is he?

He can’t take it in his hands.

You’ll die if he takes it in his hands. 

Fortunately, he just opens the box, looks at the satin bag, looks at it with a pained expression as if he feels bad for the thing, then closes it back. 

“The woman at the shop said that it’s one of the best ones, for starters.” He sulks like a child. Bottom lip all plumped out, shiny eyes under curved eyebrows.

Jungkook looks up at you, ultimate sad puppy look on.

“She said the size and the texture were perfect if you’ve never used one before. It wouldn’t be too... what was that again?” He asks aloud as if you’d know. And you’re mortified. On behalf of him. The concept that he’s not embarrassed right now and that he went to an actual shop, browsed through the shelves and asked an actual saleswoman for help is absolutely insane. Unbelievable if it were not for the sincerity he’s dipped in. “And I picked blue because I know you like this colour. It matches your planner, doesn’t it?” He adds as if he’s not sure when obviously he knows.

It is surprisingly very close in shade. And so what? He expected you to love it so much, take fucking aesthetic pictures with it and your planner sitting on your fake marble desktop, next to Diego the succulent? What an idiot. And for how fucking long did he talk to that woman?

Silence hangs heavy between you. You watch as he scowls some more, mumbles under his breath while staring with despair at the box.

Slowly, resolute to be the better friend you have not successfully been these past weeks (months), you leave your protecting wall. Taking a seat on the carpet, on the opposite side of the table, you do your best to ignore the blue patch invading the bottom of your vision and try to give him the softest expression you can come up with at this moment. 

“Why are you so butthurt?”

His curiously perfect round eyes raise in a swift motion, pouty lips agape in a silent little gasp. 

“Sorry.” You apologize before he even gets to respond because, maybe, you could try harder to be good and nice to him. 

“Because it’s a present.” He starts at a very slow pace. He pauses between words like he’s addressing a dim, dim brain. And he might be honestly. But he’s one to talk. How can he not see an issue? “That I’ve looked for and bought for you. That’s why I’m butthurt, what do you mean?” 

“But- since when are we buying each other-“ You need to grow up. There’s no one else but him hearing you and since your last conversation about it, when he too was embarrassed, he’s able to say it just fine apparently. Still, you whisper the following, “sex toys?”

“Since you turned twenty-five and said you were interested in it.” His right-hand raises from the box to start flapping the air and you know it means bad news. He’s upset. When he needs his hands to further accompany his speech, it means he’s a bit too taken by the conversation. And in this case, you don’t feel like it’s a good idea for him to be. “When you were fourteen and into Legos, I bought you a set of Legos.”

Hardly makes sense. 

“You’re just going to pretend it’s a random present?”

“It’s not random. I put thought into it.” His eyes are digging up intensively in your own. It might be desperation that leads you to remain still, allow him to look. Hopefully, he won’t dig deep enough to find stuff he shouldn’t. “Why do you hate it? I thought- I don’t know- you’re a- flourished single woman and-“

Flourished? Really? The words don’t come out of your mouth but he reads them on your face and an adorable smile cracks open the mask of gravity.

“Jungkook.” You owe him an effort. Maybe you should look into why it requires an act of inhuman courage for you to admit your shame. It might be because if he were anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by the present for five seconds because clearly, you’re still half of a fucking child but soon enough, you’d probably be enchanted by the thing. Who doesn’t need a good sex toy? You definitely do. You thought about getting one for a long while but never got to it for some reasons and here’s one offered to you (in a very pretty shade of baby blue).

The thing is you don’t think about anyone sexually except for him (and his friend Jimin, once in a while, just by curiosity because the guy is a very sexual being). If you don’t even consider them in this light, you don’t have to think about them using it, do you? But he’s all you think about, unfortunately. And you’re friends. And it feels like one step closer to your fantasy while simultaneously one step closer to betrayal. And he certainly is not offering you this wishing for you to keep close in mind the fact that this is his. His present. He knows about it. Maybe can think of you using it and liking it without any further implications. Because obviously, it’s not like that for him. “It's awkward. How can you not see that.”

“Is it? What is?”

“First of all, we don’t- we- don’t even talk about... it. And suddenly you’re buying me- this?”

“Yeah, I realized that too!” It’s too much enthusiasm. Eyes too big and hands not leaving the air. You can already guess his next sentence. It’s probably going to be a terrible suggestion. “I talk about sex all the time with the guys,” Your eyebrows jump to your hairline at that. You’re not even that surprised but the formulation could probably be fixed. “and you talk about it with your girls, right? But we’ve known each other the longest and we never talk about it. Isn’t it fucked up?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’-”

“Well, I would. I am.”

“Don’t you- don’t you see that you’re a boy and coincidentally you can easily talk about it with the guys who happen to be boys and I am a girl, right? And I-“ Who would have thought? It took you fifteen years to finally be giving him the beginning of the talk about the birds and the bees. You would have given it to him sooner if you’d have known how far behind he’s been. 

“But what if I need girl advice-“

“I’m sure Jimin knows a whole lot about girls, Jeon.”

“From a girl point of view. Real girl advice.”

“Jungkook-“

“If I ask what the G spot exactly feels like, what-“

“Jungkook!” 

He’s amused, the fucker. He’s not as clueless as he sounds. But the crooked grin on his face is too telling. He might just be messing with you. Usually, when he’s just playing he wouldn’t insist so much, he wouldn’t take the conversation this far so surely, there are some genuine intentions. However, he's still having way too much fun.

With his frowned nose, and squinting shiny orbs and stupid bunny teeth. 

“You’re just embarrassed, aren’t you?” You might have terribly loud red streaks painting your cheeks that you try naively to cover with your hands. He can see it all and silently, he nods his head, looking like he’s reached the final touch of his experiment. “How? What happened to the teenage girl who spent her nights writing dirty stories about Harry Styles?”

Horror.

How the fuck-

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

“You showed me!” He defends, hands high above in the air like a soccer player claiming innocence. “You did! You don’t remember?” No, you don’t. But you can tell he’s not lying. Apparently, young you was quite the fearless bitch.

What happened indeed? 

Years happened. A growing sense of self-preservation along with them. Undesired feelings for an idiot with a bunny smile. An inappropriate sense of shame along with those. 

“Anyway. So it’s a bribe for girl advice?” You ask, chin pointing to the box. Jungkook looks down on it, drums his fingertips lightly on the top before he looks up, beaming. 

“Sort of.” Shrugging, he adds with a shifty eye that telltales a certain vulnerable sincerity. “I just wish for us to be able to share everything. Be comfortable like before.”

“Before what?” He stares for a long time, mouth shut. He then blinks the moment away and for the first time, you might believe ever, Jungkook looks like he might have a secret too. 

“Just before. Back in the days, I mean.” He simply explains. His attention is back on the stupid box. He’s staring at the rose on top of it. Fingers playing with the corner of it. 

“Back in your old days.”

“You’re older than me. So you really don’t want it?” Here he comes again with the sad puppy face. Why would it be breaking his dumb little heart to refuse a dildo from him? What kind of insane parallel universe is this? “Is it like a 'men are fine but little Jeon Jungkookie still has cooties so I can’t accept his present, it’s gross'?” 

“Something like that.”

“Oh.” Defeated, he sighs. Another one of those soul-harming sighs. “Fine. I’ll get it refunded and you’ll buy yourself something else with the money then.” 

Is he really going to make you do that?

As if the question is even to be raised. He can make you do anything. 

“No, Guk, sorry. It’s fine. Sorry.” You start, hands clasping over the box you drag your side of the table. The only way you can do it is if you don’t actively think about what’s inside. “I’ll keep it. Sorry.”

“So you kind of want it?” He is grinning from one ear to the other. You can feel him giddy and excited, kind of jumpy on his seat and really, you don’t see any difference with the excitement he portrays each time he gets you any kind of presents and you tell him that you like it. 

“I won’t use it.” It’s almost a threat. Eyes squinted in severe slits, index finger millimetres away from poking his eye. “It’s a gift so I won’t make you get a refund, that’s rude but- I won’t use it.” After a second of seemingly deep reflection, he breaks out in his loud, annoying boyish laughter. Eyes watery at the corners and hands clapping like a stupid seal. “I’m serious!”

“Sure.” He’s still cackling, the idiot. “But you should. The lady said it’s a best seller too.” 

“Great. I don’t care.” 

He has his eyebrows high, a twitch in his wide grin, and the amused black orbs. He doesn’t believe you one bit. “Course, you don’t.”

The idea that he sincerely expects you to use it might drive your delusional brain for a loop. He just wants to be the best gift-giver, the best Santa, and wants you to make good use of whatever he's got you. But how can he not consider that you could not use something like that, to pleasure yourself, when it’s directly related to him, your best friend? It’s weird as hell. It can’t be just weird to you. 

Unfortunately, there’s no one you can come up with the question to have them agree with you. You already know what the girls will say. They’re even worse than you when it comes to Jeon Jungkook and your ambiguous (on your side solely) friendship. They’ll say the ship is sailed and start buying themselves bridesmaid matching dresses.

They don’t understand. It’s not like they’ve grown up with someone like him. Someone rather simple, authentic and kind, so much so, so much more than most people, that it turns him complicated because so different from other humans you can meet. There’s nothing to be read in between the lines with him. It’s always lovingly honest, blatant, generous.

He doesn’t mean anything else behind the gift besides a “have a good one!”. 

And you didn’t mean anything else but the truth when you said you wouldn’t use it. 

At the moment, anyway, you meant it.

A/N: hoping it makes sense and is not too raw, edited it at midnight TT; may i manifest a sugar daddy that would pay me to stay home and write fanfiction for you guys all day :). i really hope you like it, and hope also that you can handle the secondhand embarrassement because even i struggled. let me know what you think of the series so far, sending everyone reading this an infinite amount of virtual kisses and hugs, take care of yourself, love yourself and others a lot, BYEE.

tag list: @moon-asia​ @btstrasht​ @jkbangtan7​ @taehugger​ @kaepjjangiya​ @daggerbeneathmygown​ @cuteipat​  @jinsalpaca​

PLEASE ASK TO BE TAGGED IN THE COMMENT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! TY <3

[liaromancewriter]

Change in Circumstance

Premise: When a pregnant Cassie is not feeling like herself, Ethan tries his best to bring her sparkle back leading to a heart to heart about what’s next for them.

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)

Rating: Mature

Category: Some angst, some fluff (it's a real mixed bag of emotions)

Trope: Pregnancy

Words: 865

A/N: This started as a bit of nonsense because I missed writing for my OTP, Cassie and Ethan. And then it went in a completely different direction. I’m using this week’s @wackydrabbles prompt, “Why should I believe you?” which will appear in bold.

The light from a full moon shone down on the wrecked bed, covers thrown onto the floor, and the two people lying facing each other. Their hands were laced together, as was often the case, resting in the tiny space between their cooling bodies.

Their eyes, languid from sated desire, remained on each other as they waited for their heartbeats to slowly come down from the high of a few moments ago.

“Well?” asked the man once he’d caught his breath. “Was it as good as the first time?”

“Meh,” responded his companion with seriousness before her laughter broke through at the disgruntled look on his face.

“What’s the matter, Dr. Ramsey?” teased Cassie. “Afraid you’ve lost your touch being a married man?”

“Quite the contrary,” quipped Ethan, running their enjoined hands slowly down the valley between her breasts.

Her breath hitched as his thumb brushed her nipples before continuing its leisurely path below, gently passing over the baby bump and leaving nerve endings in its wake. She mewled as the desire she thought had been slaked woke anew.

“I can’t,” she pleaded.

“Why should I believe you?”

Just then, he felt two swift movements followed by another against the hand resting on her belly.

“Because your children seem to think that’s enough shenanigans for tonight,” she told him, smiling despite the discomfort from the kicks.

“Do you still think you’re fat, ugly and undesirable?”

Cassie closed her eyes as she pondered the question. As a doctor, she knew all about pregnancy hormones and mood swings. As an expectant mother, none of that mattered. She felt what she felt.

“Yes,” she said, “and no.”

“Want to talk about it?” asked Ethan, sitting up to rest against the headrest. He helped Cassie up, reaching down for the covers when he felt her shiver.

“It’s hard to explain, but when I see myself in the mirror these days, I don’t see me anymore,” she told him, nestling into his shoulder. Her head rested on his chest, taking comfort from the steady beat of his heart.

“Who do you see?” he asked when she didn’t continue.

“Not Doctor Cassie Valentine.”

“You know you’re more than your profession, right?” he said gently. “It’s the one important lesson you taught me at the start of our relationship. We’re more than how others see us. And what we are to each other goes beyond the reason we first met.”

“I know it intellectually, but I’m so afraid of what’s coming,” she admitted. “Of losing my identity and becoming someone else. I don’t know how to be anyone other than who I am now.”

Ethan stayed quiet, turning her words over in his mind as his hand absently brushed up and down her back.

“I feel the same,” he said softly as he gave voice to his true feelings. “You know how difficult it was for me, given my childhood, to even contemplate fatherhood. Before you, I was convinced that all I would ever be in life is Doctor Ethan Ramsey, Diagnostician. Not a boyfriend or a husband, and certainly not a father.”

Cassie changed positions until she was straddling his lap, as much as her pregnant belly would allow; her eyes locked on his. She reached for his hand, giving it a light squeeze, and waited for him to continue.

“But you made me see what was possible if only I’d let myself want it to. Even then I knew, I could only ever be that person with you because with you the future was limitless. Our love was inevitable.”

He paused.

“I’m ready for what’s next because on the other side of every fear is my love for you and our possibilities. So, whenever I think I’m losing who Doctor Ethan Jo–“

“Freaking,” she interrupted with a smirk.

“– Jonah Ramsey,” he continued with a smile, “I remember that I’m your Ethan first and always will be. And you’ll always be my Cassie first. Everything else is secondary to that.”

“I want to be your first and always, I do, but our children,” she stopped to collect her thoughts. “Our children will change that. They will have to come first.”

“Of course, love,” he countered. “But they’re half you, half me. So, the sentiment doesn’t change, only the circumstances. They’re a part of who we are to each other.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, shifting to lay down against him, her hand resting on his heart. “Half and half of you and me, huh? Not sure how poetic that is.”

“As I’ve told you before, Rookie,” he said with great affront. “I’m a doctor not a poet.”

“Not so sure about that,” she grinned. “What you do with your tongue is pure poetry.”

“Yeah?” he raised an eyebrow when she leered at him.

“I might need more convincing,” she responded, stretching out on the space beside him, legs falling open. “So, if you were feeling poetic, I certainly won’t complain.”

“The things I do for my art,” he griped as her laughter rang out across the room.

And then Dr. Ethan Ramsey proceeded to show Dr. Cassie Valentine just how much he enjoyed poetry. Not that she was complaining.

Perma-tags: @jamespotterthefirst @starryeyedrookie @genevievemd @forallthatitsworth @queencarb @ohchoices @casey-v @coffeeheartaddict​ @openheartfan @udishaman @danijimenezv @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @mainstreetreader @tsrookie @bex-la-get @chaoticchopshopheart @headoverheelsforramsey @thegreentwin @dorisz @silma-words @custaroonie @pixelnutrookie @adiehardfan @parisa-kh @takemyopenheart @dickgraysonsscrumptiousbooty @jerzwriter @choiceskatie @mia143 @mm2305 @a-crepusculo @barbean @beastlyinstrument @electroniccreatorwerewolf @rosebudde @lucy-268 @sarcastic01lily @blainehellyes @crazy-loca-blog @writer-ish @pixelberrygirl @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles

[hurting-fictional-people]

Sooo, I think this is turning into an actual story guys. I have ideas for where this can go and one of them needs names to work so... yeah they are becoming OCs... Whumpee, Caretaker and Whumper are getting names next part because I’m indecisive and need to think on it lol but for this one, since I’ve been giving them more thought and shape: they are all men and the pronouns are ‘he’ now, okay? 

CW: needle mention, medical setting, infected wound, restrained and collared, held hostage, lots of angst because this is what this whole thing is about in the end, isn’t it?

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot (please tell me if you want me to stop or start tagging you <3)

Continued from here

-

There was a time when Whumpee could move and not feel pain because of it. When it didn’t hurt to do so much as breathe. There was a time when time didn’t blend together in an endless daze of please help me, it hurts.

He knows exactly where the pain comes from, that spot a knife had gone inside of him… days before? Weeks? But by now, it has spread along his entire body, and it all just hurts so much.

If only he could press his hands against the wound, see if it looks as ugly as it feels. If only he could curl up and sob. If only his hands weren’t tied above his head and he could move at all, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

His fingers have gone cold and numb what feels like hours before. He shifts and squirms but it only makes his wound burst in pain and barely anything for his aching arms. After some time, the pain is in his legs as well and if only he could move, just for a moment, it would be so much better. 

His head hangs awkwardly to the side, unable to move more than a few inches, kept close to the wall by the metal collar around his neck. He can’t sleep with it, because each time he does, his head hangs and he wakes up suffocating. He can’t move, because it hurts. All he can do is hope Whumper doesn’t forget he’s here.

So Whumpee just stares at nothing, wondering if the pain will ever fade, and only when it gets truly unbearable does he allow himself to think of Caretaker.

He’s left him here to rot. As he did before, as Whumpee should’ve known he would. 

But this pain is a lot deeper than the stabbing could ever be, so Whumpee closes his eyes and tries to focus on breathing through the molten lava seeping into his bloodstream.

Time passes, or maybe it doesn’t, and Whumpee can’t focus on anything for long enough to know anything but pain. 

It’s a strange combination, the desperate need to move his cramped arms, restless legs, but also the bone-deep weakness he feels, the certainty that even if he wasn’t chained to the wall, he wouldn’t have the strength to do more than curl up on the floor. 

It all comes back to murmured pleas for mercy that are never heard, until even his voice is raw and aching and he just goes back to leaning limply against the wall and relishing the few minutes he gets of sleep.

Eventually, his tiny cell fills with noise and his eyes flutter open to find Whumper towering over him.

He’s only half awake, the other half refuses to swim out of the deep waters of troubled sleep, but as if through a thick layer of glass, Whumpee manages to discern a few words.

“…infection,” someone says, somewhere distant. “Shit, get the doctor, I–“

He only truly wakes up when the chains are unlocked and he’s hauled up, the only thing keeping him standing the unforgiving hands gripping his arms. People keep speaking, but he’s so consumed by pain that all Whumpee can hear is his own desperate whimpers as they move his inert body. 

-

Whumper isn’t smiling when Caretaker enters his office, for once.

“Took you long enough. Do you have what I asked for?”

“What you bribed me for, you mean?” Caretaker bites back, clutching the drive filled with information his team never expected him to leak. “Let me see Whumpee first.”

“We had a bit of a situation while you were gone.” Whumper sighs, getting up and nodding toward the door for Caretaker to follow. Two security guards walk behind them, and Caretaker’s stomach churns when he sees the others standing at each corner they pass. If it was only two, he could take them down. Surrounded as he is, his only hope is to play the game long enough for Whumper to slip up first. “So, apparently having his wrists chained above him wasn’t particularly good for a nearly closed wound. It got infected.”

The world stops for a moment, pauses in horror. And yet it keeps moving, somehow – Caretaker’s legs keep driving him forward, even if his heart turns into stone in his chest, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing with fear.

“He’s fine, though,” Whumper continues as if his last words hadn’t frozen Caretaker inside out. “I’ll let you see him, as a treat, before you give me the drive, just because this was not supposed to happen.”

There are no words, no nothing as Caretaker keeps walking, the motion automatic, hammering heart the only sound he hears.

They enter the medical wing Whumpee had been in before he left, and stop in front of a white door. Whumper is frowning when he opens it, but Caretaker only has eyes for the tiny figure lying on the bed.

He was always so stunned by how big Whumpee looked, even though he was always a few centimeters shorter. Loud laughs, passionate ideas, all love and wildness that could never be contained – it all made him so much bigger than anyone else.

But under white sheets, a needle stuck to his vein, and beeping machines all around him, Whumpee looks so small. Vulnerable. Alone.

“See, still breathing,” Whumper huffs behind him.

“If I give you the drive, will you let me take him away?” The question is low, whispered not to wake Whumpee up. Or maybe not to reveal how tight his chest feels. 

“We’ll talk about it later. Just hand it over and I’ll even let you hang around for a while.”

It isn’t reassuring at all, but Caretaker doesn’t even look at Whumper as he hands him the device, eyes still locked on each shallow breath Whumpee takes.

“Don’t do anything stupid. The room is filled with cameras and my men will be waiting outside,” Whumper warns before leaving.

Caretaker is beside the bed before the door is even fully closed. 

His eyes travel down each centimeter of Whumpee’s body, head to toe, from the way his eyes move from side to side underneath his eyelids to the padded restraint around his right wrist to the slight bulge of new bandages covering his stab wound. The wound Caretaker is guilty of.

He sits at the very edge of the bed, leans closer. Whumpee’s hand is cold when Caretaker holds it, but his cheek is warm under his fingers.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, tracing his thumb along Whumpee’s jawline. “I’ll get you out of here, okay? And then I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”

He closes his eyes to keep the tears from falling as the words bubble up, escaping the dam Caretaker had built so long ago, through the cracks Whumpee created with each trustful smile, each careful touch and disarming gentleness. The cracks Caretaker did his best to close, thought he did for a while. And then he woke up to Whumpee tied behind his back and found out his heart had never stopped bleeding for him.

“It should’ve been me. It should’ve never been you. I was the one supposed to be hurt, not you. Never you. I am so sorry, Whumpee, so, so–“

A sharp intake of breath makes Caretaker’s words die in his throat.

He cracks his eyes open and freezes when he finds Whumpee’s green gaze locked on him.

They stare at each other, one instant that lasts one thousand, a million words Caretaker wishes to say but knows he won’t. And then Whumpee’s eyes wander around the room, aimlessly stopping here and there, going back to Caretaker, half-lidded and lost somewhere else.

“I ha– I hate it,” Whumpee mumbles, “that you’re still… in m-my dreams.”

Its low, weak, and Caretaker side-glances the bag filled with clear liquid dripping into Whumpee’s veins before looking back at him and smiling faintly. “I know. It’s okay. I deserve your hate.”

“No. Not you. I hate me.”

“What?”

Whumpee blinks slowly, so slowly opening back drug-addled eyes that strain to focus on Caretaker’s face, and leans his cheek against Caretaker’s palm. “I hate me… for still… still… caring.”

And just like that, the world stops in its tracks again. A sob gets caught between Caretaker’s teeth, and he just stares at Whumpee as either exhaustion or medication takes him away again, and his head lolls on the pillow.

When Whumper comes to pick him up hours later, Caretaker is still standing on the same spot, still holding Whumpee’s limp hand, still staring at the peace sleep brings to that beautiful face. The peace he hasn’t seen since Caretaker himself took from him.

He doesn’t complain when he’s told to leave the room. Caretaker simply squeezes that tiny hand that hides under his and obeys. 

They go back to Whumper’s office, and Caretaker strains to focus on now, here, not the man lying on a hospital bed one floor above.

“Good visit?” Whumper teases.

“I did my part. Now let us go.”

There’s a weight inside of Caretaker’s stomach, and it is tied to that sleeping figure, to that lost gaze that’ll never leave his mind.

“I have a new offer.”

He knew this was coming. Caretaker hoped it wasn’t but he knew it from the moment he looked at Whumper’s ambitious eyes.

“I want you to work for me.”

A humorless laugh escapes his lips, and Caretaker crosses his arms over his chest. “In your dreams. Now do your part and let me grab Whumpee and go.”

“Um no, I don’t think I will.”

“Why should I trust you when you haven’t been true to your word twice now?”

A snorted laugh, a raise of brows. “Isn’t it obvious? Because I have Whumpee. He isn’t in shape for traveling right now, y’know? I’m doing him a favor keeping him here, giving him top-of-the-line medical care. You should be thanking me.”

“What do you want now, Whumper?” Caretaker sighs. Exhaustion is curling around his very bones, helplessness snaking up his throat, and he is just so tired of this. Of being sad and scared and guilty, even if he deserves every single drop of it.

“Go back to your team and feed me relevant information, and I’ll keep making sure that nasty infection doesn’t hurt Whumpee anymore than it already has. Do as I say, and he stays alive. You know the drill, don’t you?”

Caretaker doesn’t have the willpower to do more than close his eyes and fall into a chair, waiting to hear the details of one more betrayal he has no way to avoid. 

-

It makes no sense, truly, but when Whumpee wakes up, he is surprised to find himself alone. There was no one in the cell with him, there’s no reason to expect someone to be with him in the hospital-like room, but a part of him expects a warm hand on his either way.

Pieces of dreams float around his mind, barren rooms with monsters waiting in the dark, a crimson puddle of his own blood, familiar and unknown faces blurring together. And the one that felt the most real, the one dream he holds close to his heart even if he doesn’t want to.

Caretaker’s face, worried eyes, gentle touches, soothing and painful all at once. Murmured words, tearful apologies. A dream he wishes was real, knows it isn’t.

Whumpee closes his eyes when tears blur his vision, and brushes his fingers along his jawline in a phantom touch he hasn’t felt in so long but wishes he had.

(next)

[mxvladdy]

I have a prompt idea! The Brothers reacting to an MC that can regenerate after they die. Someone stabbed them? The wound will close in a bit. Did they fall from a high place and their body shattered? It’s all good, they’re body’ll just snap everything back into place as they’re conscious. We’re they poisoned? They’ll treat it like a stomach bug and be fine the next day. Funny part is MC could tell them the worst ways they died during their childhood in a lighthearted way which makes things more disturbing, especially since demon threats against them won’t work.

Ok first time I read this prompt I had a good laugh bc all I could think about was an MC that made that little squeaking noise those rubber chickens make when they inflate every time they regenerated lmaoooo. Could you imagine the pavlovian response all the brothers get if they hear a squeak? Like Lucifer would be trying to sleep and Cerberus finds one of his old chew toys and the fear it brings is legendary.

TW: Death, Blood, Injuries

Lucifer

When you first tell him he has no idea if it was a crude joke or not. You are so blasé about something that should traumatize you. He hates how you snort at his every threat. What good is blackmail if you don’t go for it?

He does not believe you at first. Just another little human talking big trying to impress him. He would keep a keen eye on you too, making sure they have no reason to get even so much of a scrape on their knee. Believe you or not he doesn’t need this program to fail. Then Belphie happened. Seeing your lifeless body made so many things happen in his mind he felt physically ill. He hadn’t felt like crying so hard since Lilith…

And then you sit up and crack your spine, like you were waking up from a nap instead of getting up after being thrown from the second story.

He-is relieved, and terrified. Were humans supposed to do that? He doesn't remember reading this particular ability in his father’s schematics. He believes you now nonetheless.

But he still doesn’t let you just go getting hurt whenever you feel like it.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head firmly. He is unfazed by your cute little pout and huffing.

“Lotan is friendly!” You try again pushing the form back at him defiantly. Lucifer picks it up again against his better judgment and scoffs. Friendly, if Lotan is friendly then Cerberus was a saint. “Come on what’s the worst that can happen? I’m out of school for a day or two if things get dicey.” You plead leaning up and over his desk. Ugh. He rubs at his temple in annoyance.

“The fact that you think skipping a few days of school because you became fish food as a minor hindrance terrifies me.” He drolls but picks up his feathered quill irregardless. You squeal in delight and hug him fiercely, managing to pull a smile out of him. They grab the liability agreement and run out the door already shouting for Levi to hurry up before Lucifer changes his mind. He chuckles leaning back in his chair. Fine, if they are happy… let it be on their head if it severs. Wait- could they regenerate from that? “Shit.”

Mammon

He believes you. Not because he takes their word for it but the first night on duty as your caretaker you fall out of his balcony window.

One minute they are having a heated argument about his unwanted duties, him hovering over you while you lean up against the railing refusing to break eye contact. Next thing he knows the old stone gives and you both tumble.

He has wings and catches himself. You- not so much. He can still hear the sickening crunch of bone meeting stone when he lays awake at night. The first thing he worries about is how much trouble he would be in with Lucifer that he failed again. He's a blubbering mess over your body swearing he would do better if they would just get up. Whatever you want it’s theirs if you just open their eyes.

And of course, you do. He won’t admit to the scream that erupts from his mouth when you ask him to swear on that deal or they are going to Lucifer as soon as they can feel their legs. He agrees readily, glad his hide is saved for now.

When you two become closer he figures why not make some money off of this little quirk. Enter the troublesome duo of grifters.

You whimper, hamming it up for the terrified looking demon glazing between your broken leg and Mammon wiggling his ring heavy fingers at them. “Look what ya did to my human.” He tuts. “What, ya don’t look both ways when riding.” He kicks at the upended bike by his feet. The demon sputters swearing that they did and neither of them had been in the way.

“Mammon~” His human sniffles flashing him a teary eyed pout. To the other lesser demon it looked like a plea, but Mammon knew it was a warning that your leg would start mending soon.

“Who do you think is gonna pay for this?” He goes in for the kill waving his free arm down at his human’s prone form. “You want Lucifer or Diavolo ta hear about this? Ya know this human is special to us.” The demon blanches and shakes its head. Terrified it threw its wallet at the avatar of greed and bolted leaving their bike and bag behind. Waiting for the demon to be completely out of earshot Mammon turns with a dazzling smile. “Damn,” He whistles, helping his human back to their feet. Already the bone and skin had mended leaving only an ugly red stain on the fabric of their uniform. “I think you just moved up the ranks of my most favorite things. Gonna rival Goldie soon if this picks up...” He opens the wallet and pockets the handful of cash in it, tossing the worn fabric to the street floor.

“Hey.” Mammon looks down at you. You were now scowling eying his pant pocket. “Don’t forget your side of the bargain.” He chuckles raising his hands in defeat.

“Alright- Alright. One stupidly expensive ice cream coming up.” He can't hide his blush when you hug his arm close to your chest, excitedly leading him back to the main street.  

Leviathan

Oh like in that one anime???

But really, he is the first to take your word for it. Finds it kinda neat. Not that he is going to test it. Who would he have to play with if you were just yanking his chain?

He listens to absolutely spine chilling tales of your little “mishaps” as a child. But you brush off his concern. Don’t worry about it! Makes for great stories. To tell right?

Of course, when he sees it first hand he forgets for a moment that you would eventually feel better. He left his tank open one night to clean out some debris gunking up the water pump. Damn things get stalled so frequently now. He turns his back for a moment to get a tool and the next he smells human blood in the water!

He scoops you out of the water before whatever fiendish creatures he holds in his aquarium can take a bite and gets you to solid ground. He is panicking hardcore, he doesn’t feel a pulse. He sees that they smashed their head, blood pooling sluggishly down your temple. You must have slipped on the wet tank edge and hit their head.

Just when he is about to name another Henry in your honor you pop up spitting out whatever water that had gotten into their lungs. They flash him a knowing smirk at his red-rimmed eyes and joke that they have a killer headache.

Nurse Levi to the rescue!

Levi checks in on you again, leaning over the edge of his tank. “D-don’t you move a muscle!” He shouts down to you. Squinting he sees a hand emerging from the mound of pillows and blankets inside his tub-bed. you shoot him a quick thumbs up before turning your attention back to his giant flat screen. “You sure you don’t need Barbatos or some pain meds?” He frets. He was close to just giving up on the pump and coming to take care of his miraculously healed guest.

“Levi I’m fine! Not even sleepy.” Your muffled reply wafts up to him. You push down some of the blankets to give him a relaxed smile. “See not even a scar.” You show him the side of their head that had been cut. Sure enough, nothing was there but a smoothed patch of skin. It lessens some of his panic, but barely. He knew internal damage was still a thing to humans.

Finishing up quickly with the pump he slithers back down to your side sheepishly. He had apologized what felt like a thousand times, but he was ready to drop a couple thousand more if need be. His looming causes you to look up from the anime you were watching. The flashing blue and yellow lights illuminate their calm gaze. None of the panic he felt seemed to transfer to you. “Want to join me?” You pat at the covers. “Waters warm.” You chuckle at their own joke pulling the blue covers down and away to give him room to join them.

“I-if you’re sure.” He stammers wiping at his face to hide his flush. You nod, patting the empty side again. He joins you snuggling close, he runs a hand where a gruesome scar had been not even an hour again. You nuzzle in close. His slightly cool fingers felt great on your skin before turning back to the screen completely nonplussed.

What a weird human...

Satan

Much like Lucifer doesn’t believe you. He has never heard or read about humans being able to do that. Will not believe them and gets annoyed by the “fake” stories you kept insisting were real.

The fact that a single human has such a vividly morbid imagination fascinates him, but he won’t divulge in your little fantasy. There is only so much foolishness he can deal with.

He forgets about it after a while and you stop bringing it up. If he doesn’t believe you so be it, he’ll find out one day surely, you aren’t exactly the most careful with your body. When he does find out it about does him in.

He had warned them of climbing on his bookshelves. He doesn’t have them tethered down or stable. He doesn’t need them to be. His shelves would never even dare to topple on him. But this weak little human takes his room as a personal jungle gym, climbing up him and his things for a book. They could just ask but Devil’s forbid they did something halfway intelligent.

You hear him fretting through the fog coating your senses. His fingers shakily poking at your crushed abdomen and legs all bent akimbo clearing broken. “Don’t be dead-please don’t do this.” He hisses about ready to use magic to put you back together again. You pull your strength and grab his hand before he can interfere with your natural healing ability.

He starts, green eyes looking down relieved and amazed at you. “Don’t.” You croak, already feeling your lungs and rib cage healing. “I’m good.”  

“You’re good!” He shouts voice cracking in exasperation. “I’ve seen the aftermath of Beel’s feeding rampages that have looked better!” You snort pushing his hands away to rest up on your elbows. Eh- he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“I look like a chewed-up burger huh?” You joke laughing at his stunted and slightly disgusted look. “I’ll be ok, just help me up? My legs are always tingly after healing.” Wordlessly he follows your instructions amazed at how well you are handling all of this. Were you actually human? You stand on wobbly legs bending and popping your joints. You give yourself a quick check over “Tada!” You give him two very bloody thumbs ups once you see that you are back to normal. “It’s all good!”

He shakes his head bewildered. “I-if you say so.” Satan wrinkles his nose looking at the mess of your clothes and his room. “Go wash up. I’ll get you a new set of clothes and work on this mess.” You nod already heading to his slightly cleaning bathroom. His warm hand wraps around your wrist catching you mid stride. “Don’t tell anyone about this ok?” He pleads. If anyone knew that he had been so foolish, he would never live it down.

You nod miming zipping your lips. “Betcha believe me know huh?”

He rolls his eyes turning to the task at hand. “Don’t push your luck, or next time I’ll leave you under a shelf.”    

Asmodeus

Believes you. You have never lied before so why do it now over something so trivial. Humans die all the time and if you say you can't then ok. He asks tons of questions about how you found out about this.

He doesn't like the stories you tell but doesn't find it off-putting how easily you talk about it. He's been around the block with mortals and they cope in all sorts of ways.

He cuddles you and coos over every story you tell then shoots off hundreds of compliments about your complexion. It's amazing how well your skin holds up to all the foolish actions of your past.

Even though he trusts you and your stories he still is super careful with you. You are not going to get hurt on his watch, absolutely not! Will patch you up if you need it all while gripping about your foolishness.

But accidents happen, and even the most watchful demon trips up sometimes.

Asmo tuts over you rubbing at the potion burning away at your flesh. "I told you the maroon bottle love." You hiss as the antiseptic hits muscle.

"Maroon and burgundy look the same, bite me!" He clicks his tongue and bites off the argument brewing within him. How can you not see how different the two colors are. You grouch some more while he works on getting the rest of his potion off your cheek. You had just wanted to use one of his acne toner, the one that smelled like cucumber and rose. He was preoccupied with his eyeliner but told you to just grab it from his shelf. He had a lot of bottles and a lot of them were definitely not for human use. 

You unfortunately just happened to pick one of them. The one you nabbed was a toner built for his stronger skin. It ate away at your cheeks and flesh of your palm on contact. It's burning and tingling making you yelp in surprise. Luckily for you, Asmo acted fast coming up from behind and knocking the toner-soaked cotton pad from your reddening fingers. He curses at you the whole way to his bathroom. Done with your right cheek and hand he nods in approval, seeing your flesh already knitting back together. "At least you have lovely bone structure. Ahhh~ I'm jealous!" He pokes a nail at the exposed bone of your cheekbone. The mending muscles and nerves almost growing over his nail before he could pull away. You quirk a brow.

"Want them? I'm pretty sure I could regrow my jawline before anybody would notice. " You shrug taking the washcloth from him to dap at your left cheek. Asmo laughs, it was a ridiculously tempting offer after all.

"Could you?" He taps at his own chin in thought. You glance back at him and sits on the toilet. In theory, you probably could. Hadn't happened...yet.  

"Ye- just give me a heads up first? And maybe some good booze to knock me out." You say only half-joking. Asmo nods eagerly, twirling a lock of soft tawny hair. He might take you up on the offer.  

Beelzebub

He doesn't want to know and he never wants to find out. He just likes you too much to see you get hurt :(. It gets to the point where you cannot bring any past stories of incidents (no matter how funny you think they are). If a story comes out be prepared to be carried everywhere by this gentle giant. If you won't cease your foolishness then he will.

Though he probably should have heard a few of the stories. Mostly the ones about poisons and inedible things you use to eat. A lot of his world revolves around food and he loves to share it with you.

He never heard you complain about the foods he had you try with him. It wasn't until Simeon and Luke tagged along did he learn the awful truth that he had been poisoning you almost every time you two went out.  

Takes him forever to get out of his head about it. You are clearly fine and never brought it up because you just loved spending time bonding with him.

You find him in the ally behind the restaurant. His massive form curled in on itself from where he sat. "Why didn't you tell me?" He rumbles hearing you approach to stand next to him. "I could have killed you." You sit squat next to him resting your arms on your knees.

"I mean...if we are keeping count it would be dead about eight times over by this point." You meant it to be funny but he groans in anguish pulling at his hair. You grab his fists and pry them from his scalp. "Hey! Hey!" You pat his knuckles, eyes filled with concern. "I'm still here right, still kicking and eating all these awesome foods, don't worry. Please?"  You can tell your words do not calm him but he doesn't pull from your grasp either. "If you are curious, all the foods that would have done me dirty just gave me some bad cramps and gas for the evening. Nothing a tum and hot tea couldn't fix." You fill the air with useless chatter, all while stroking his knuckles.

You really wish that Luke hadn't said anything. Simeon had read the room, his neat brown brows raising in astonishment as you sank into the meal Beel bought for you. But he otherwise stayed silent tucking into his own meal without a fuss. You couldn't completely blame Luke though. He was young and just looking out for you. Though, he-well- both of you could have handled it better. With him screaming and you screaming, it was a recipe for disaster.

Beel rises a few minutes later rubbing at his burning eyes. "Are you sure you are ok?" He checks in with you once more. You nod perking up as you see him grunt in acceptance. "Just let me know next time you can't eat something."

"But it tastes good!" You pout. He frowns not budging from his spot until he sees you sigh in defeat and agree. No more purposely poisoning yourself just for munchies. "Fine-but you are just saying that to get extra portions."  

Belphegor

He finds out when he kills your dumbass for believing him. It totally harshed his vibe.

Here he was getting an amazing monologue, reveling in his eldest's brothers' anguish and look of anger from the prince. He was ready to give his final performance and hopefully wipe the floor with that red-headed bastard plans to "commingle"

He tossed your "lifeless" body from him, taking a sick amount of pleasure in the way your body flopped down the stairs. He notices how the other brothers seem completely unfazed by your corpse at their feet.

Huh? Perhaps they didn't understand the actions he did. Or maybe they truly have given into the demons they had become. He stops his tirade only when he watches Asmo bend down and poke at your cheek. He didn't look sad, just merely annoyed. Like you were taking too long to get up.

But that is impossible. You would never get up again... 

Mammon rolls his eyes at his youngest brother's actions. Honestly, he loved the little edge lord, but this was ridiculous. He had a racket to go check on. His hand drifts down slowly to his pocket. If he just angled it right he could probably check his phone without looking rude. He makes eye contact with Satan and jerks his head exasperatedly at Lucifer and Belphegor going at it. The blonde shakes his head and shrugs. Slowly he inches closer so Mammon can go on his phone without getting caught. Covering for Mammon Satan looks around the room feigning interest.

Beelzebub and Leviathan seemed mildly more attentive to what was going on than him. The latter of the two eating it up like an arch in an anime, while the former was trying desperately to placate his twin. Asmodeus on the other hand was having none of this. He plops down next to your body turning your head to face him. He checks you over quietly ignoring the storm exploding out of his elder brother and the rest of the gang. "Honestly darling," He strokes the bridge of your nose, feeling the bone and cartilage shifting back into place beneath his finger. "is this a good time to ask if I can have your jawline?" He sees the corner of your lips twitch.  He leans in and whispers in your ear. "How long are you going to play dead?"

"Am I boring you, brother?" Asmo glances up from his position over your head. Belphegor looks down at his face apoplectic with rage at being ignored. "And I see you on your phone Mammon!"

"Shove it! I got shit to do!"

Asmo gets to his feet dusting off his pants and ruffles. He shrugs up at Belphie who was doing a great interpretation of Lucifer when angry. He was so much like Lucifer it was scary sometimes. "Sorry honey! Just check on my bestie."

Belphie snorts making his way down to the first floor. "Just checking I killed-"

You pop up grunting loudly as your spine reconnects. "Help your bestie up?" You raise a hand for Asmo who happily takes it. You turn your back to a dumbfounded Belphie and Lucifer, both not understanding what just happened.

"About time." Mammon sighs pocketing his phone. "I got some idiots we can swindle out of some grimm."

"Oi!" Satan butts in cutting Mammon off. "You had your turn! I have some spells they said they would help me test out."

You grin, not fighting it as the two tug at you like a toy between toddlers.

"Enough!" The two jump away from you at Lucifer's roar. You squeak in surprise when a firm leather-gloved hand spins you around so you could stand face to face with a fully shifted Lucifer. "You!" He runs his hands over you in disbelief. "How..." Your first conversation with him comes back to mind.

I can't die so try to threaten me with something else next time K?

"Would someone tell me WHAT is going on and why they are still breathing!" Belphie pushes through to you and Lucifer.

Beel grabs him up before he could get his claws into you again, stroking his dark hair like you would an angry cat. "It's a long story..."