#not about how much I want to fade away and die. ya need some good ppl in life and since I dont have that in the fam. I need the friends :D

[lilowoof]

OUGH, these feelings of loneliness have been so strong lately.... going from having someone to talk to here n there to just radio silence kinda hurts, ngl X'D

I've done this song n dance before and IDM waking up to no messages or not having ppl close to me to chat to but still! Having a taste of closeness with ppl, only for it to be ripped out of my hands, by my choice, or theirs, or both just...... It hurts!

Thankfully I do have some great pals whom I can reach out to if needed so it's not like I am 100% alone XDD I guess I'm just trying to readjust to the current situation. And I know that I have the power to reach out to ppl and also to check out events in town to meet ppl! It's hard for me to do those things but I have the power to, gotta give myself grace and take things one step at a time, as I usually do!

I just wish it didn't hurt so badly haha!! (also this is not an invitation for ppl to dm me (unless u really want to for some reason). I just like writing down my thoughts so I can dissect them better and of course not bottle things up, etc etc)

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Lonely Christmas

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

summary: Lando and Y/N decide that they want to play a prank on their fans and the rest of the grid by hinting at breaking up over X (twitter)

warnings: Cursing & “Cheating”

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

“hey babe, I have an idea.” I said with a smirk as I plopped myself on the bed next to my Formula 1 race winner boyfriend, Lando Norris.

“Oh no, this doesn’t sound good” Lando says chuckling as he props himself on his elbow to get a better view of me, before leaning down pressing a quick kiss to my lips

“mm, I think we should prank your fans and the grid.” I said with the biggest smile I’ve ever smiled in my life.

“and how do you suppose we do that, hmm?” Lando said, his eyes flickering between my eyes and my lips.

Sitting up and criss cross apple sauce, I stare into his soul “I think we should stage a twitter breakup,” I searched his face for some type of answer

“What? Is this a way of telling me you want to breakup without telling me you want to breakup?” He looks kinda hurt, which quickly prompts me to swing my legs over his body so i’m sitting on his lower torso.

“Absolutely not baby! i love you beyond the galaxy. I just think this would be funny,” i plead but Lando looks unsure “I’ll tell you what to say and all !”

“fine, but only if you let me eat you out, BUT you have to sit on my face” Lando knows I’m insecure about my weight and crushing him to death.

“oh! fine!!” I say plopping right off his body and landing on the bed with a huff. “so i’m gonna tweet something to indicate that we’re breaking up but not actually saying anything”

“and how are you gonna do that-” I quickly interrupt him

“make me cry” i say nonchalantly

“what?” Lando’s face reads 50 shades of Stunned “no, I promised you and your family that the one thing i’d NEVER do to you is make you cry.”

Hearing Lando admit that means the world to me, but i need him to stop being nice and make me cry. It doesn’t take much for me to cry and since Lando doesn’t want to make me cry, I’ll resort to the next best thing: thinking of my (very much alive) dog die.

Just a few seconds of thinking of my (breed/dog) die, the tears well up in my eyes and I let out a choked sob, before whipping my phone out and taking a picture before posting it on twitter with the caption

"nobody wants a lonely Christmas but I'm about to call it quits with you. Breaking up is at the top of my wishlist and baby you don't have a clue."

I flip my phone to show Lando with a smirk plastered on my face. "So, what'd ya think?" I question as I post it and wait a few seconds before twitter starts going absolutely nuts. " wait wait let me read you some of the comments I'm getting, 'slut4ln' says 'NO MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP FIGHTING' haha look, here's another 'mother/n' said 'mother always knows wtf is up, Lando Norris count your days' !!" the chuckles leaving my lips are loud

"I think that I don't know how to respond to that on twitter," Lando says with a faint chuckle "here, how about you take my phone, type out what you want me to say and then let me read it before posting it." a smirk evident on his face as he hands me his phone, before putting said hand on my thigh, rubbing it up and down.

"What about this...?" I question as I'm typing

"You say our relationships fading and you've been thinking bout leaving and though I know it's the truth I just don't want to believe it. You've gotta be kidding me, are we really breaking up? We just picked out a tree, damn."

"Okay Y/N/N lets give it a second to spread, we have to get juicy comments before we keep going, oh. never mind. George is texting me asking me what the fuck I did and why am I arguing twitter about it"

"fuck it, ignore him. we need to make this believable." I say swiping George's message away. "Opinion on this?"

"wait wait, let me tweet something else before you tweet y/n/n. Here, read this"

"You haven't even left yet and I miss you. I was looking forward to the holidays with you. How could you do this on Christmas, girl that's so malicious? C'mon baby, please don't make me beg cause I can go and date your friend instead. Yeah, I'll put the nut in meg. But If you're thinking about leaving, then I already blew it. screw it, then I guess I'll have to beat you to it, bitch."

"OKAYYYY LANDOOOO LET ME STEP UP MY GAME!!!" I scream as I finished reading his reply after he hit tweet bouncing up and down on the bed in excitement.

"okay, okay what about this for me?" I question as I finish typing, turning my phone so Lando can read what I typed.

"I tell you I love you but I don't really mean it, cause after this Christmas sorry but I'm leaving you."

"I'm starting to feel like you're just soft launching a break up with us right now" Lando says "Why else would you gave suggested a fake twitter break up?"

"Baby, please. This is just for shits and giggles. AHH OH MY GOSH!! OSCAR'S CALLING ME" I screamed in panic as I declined the call. "Lando, I think you need to eat me up in the twitter beef again, put your pretty head to work and think of some insults for me."

"I'm almost done, but first I got a question. Why is it one week before Christmas you feel the need to mention a break up with me is in the process but still pending? Is it depending on your gift and what I'm spending? Or are you fishing for more compliments? Because to my astonishment, you're acting like little kid. Was it something I said?Sometimes my head stops thinking, when I say some stupid shit to you, you know I don't mean it, it's just the season, it's confusing, can we just get along?"

"LANDO MY COMMENTS ARE GOING CRAZYYYY! LOOK" I giggle in excitement as I flip my phone so he can scroll through the comments

slut4ln: MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP! CHRISTMAS IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER AND I CAN'T DEAL WITH A DIVORCE RN

georgeswhore: I wake up from a nap to SEE THESE?!?!?!?!

leclercsgf: What the absolute fuck did they fight about that THEYRE BEEFING ON TWITTER FOR AND AIRING OUT A POTENTIAL BREAKUP???

>y/nforpresident: potential? honey I think they are done

Landoslefttoe: Lando kinda ate mom up though 😭😭

LewisHamilton: Answer your fucking phones now!

CharlesLeclerc: LANDO?? YOU CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND "BITCH"??

CarlosSainz: Cabron, call me asap and fill me in

LoganSargeant: Does this mean I actually have a chance with Y/n?

"I'm choosing to ignore Logan's comment," Lando said flipping my phone back so I could read it. "When are we gonna go public and say it was a prank?" Lando asks as he readjusts himself on the bed, pulling me down and closer to him so we're cuddling

"We can tell them all tomorrow" I yawn as I cuddle closer to my boyfriend "goodnight handsome"

"Goodnight precious" lando whispers as he kisses my temple

<333333

idk what this is but 🎀😗

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101.

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSesvRpKqBaYY-Ow5IgHoD0gSX6OzJ03qGMXOhHUI6Xg1wfKaA/viewform.

[sturnioloisland]

As your boyfriend (NSFW) | C.S.

Pairing: Chris x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW below the cut, so minors dni, but I’m not your mother.

A/n: I did Matt’s version, so now I am presenting Chris’s version. I don’t like it that much, but I hope it’s okay enough for you guys, mwah🫶🏻

Personally, I think this man is the biggest tease in the entire world and this will certainly be a hill that I die on.

“Answer this question, baby, it’s an easy one to answer.” He’ll whisper in your ear while you’re sitting in his lap. His fingers are definitely under your shirt running over you sensitive nipples, “am I turning you on?”

He won’t accept a simple nod of your head. No, no, you’ll have to vocalize your answers on all occasions. Even if he’s gripping the back of your head while his cock is hitting the back of your throat. He relishes in hearing the noises you make while trying to answer him.

I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s mean, but he definitely does not play fair.

“Look at you so helpless beneath me, and there’s not a thing you can do about it.” He’ll say to you while his body is on top of you as he’s moving himself in and out of you, relishing in the sounds of your gasps and moans. “Yeah, you belong under me don’t ya baby?”

Messy!!! When he eats you out, but definitely blames it on you. “You’re making such a mess on my face, ma. Are you that turned on?” And he’d dive right back into your pussy. He wants to taste all of you.

LOVES seeing you on top of him. “Go on, baby, get yourself off on my cock.” He’ll either let you set the pace, or he’s gripping your hips, hard, and drilling up into you. He just loves watching your facial expressions.

When he’s sitting against the headboard while you ride him? He’ll wrap his arms around your body and have his face buried in your breasts. Kissing them, sucking on them, nipping at them, something! “It looks like your marks from last time are fading. I guess I need to redo them.” Sometimes he’ll grip your hair from behind and pull it back to completely expose your neck to him. “I love it when you let me leave marks on your neck, baby.” And boy will he leave some marks, as long as you allow him.

“I want to watch how desperate you look as I give you every last inch of me.” Remember how I said he was a tease? No matter if you are crying in desperation for him, he’s inserting himself so slowly into you. He just loves watching your face scrunch as you try to take him all in.

Personally, I think he someone who will have your face planted into the pillow as he rails into you from behind, locking your hands behind your back with his own grip.

He loves bringing you to a point of overstimulation, whether it’s with his fingers or his cock. He loves how you stumble over your words, or grip his wrists, and cry out from the pain and pleasure that you’re feeling.

He’s not one to come inside of you, but he loves either coming on your stomach or on your ass. “Stay still, baby. I want to take a picture of you like this, for future use.”

When all is said and done, and he’s cleaning you up. He’s placing kisses starting from your ankles all the way up your body to your lips all while mumbling, “You did so good, baby, such a good girl for me.” Sometimes he may get a little carried away with the kisses which will subsequently lead to round two.

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — katsuki still hates valentine’s but he’d rather die than let you get wooed by some second rate hero.

࿄ ! warnings — none. very sweet & fluffy. suggestive if you squint. / note. part 2 to the valentine’s day drabble. my anti shindo yo agenda always comes through hehe.

when bakugou walked into his agency on the early morning of valentine’s day, he hadn’t expected to see a mop of black hair lingering around your office. your door was closed, which was uncharacteristic of you, and bakugou knew you didn’t start work today until at least 2 hours after he arrived.

“yo, what’s up, dynamight! long time no see. came here to drop some paperwork off but might as well drop a few other things while i’m here,” shouts the hero grand and bakugou thinks he’s unable to hold back a visual shiver of disgust. shindo is grazing around your desk and bakugou notices the huge bouquet of roses in a velvet box and a small pandora bag.

“what d’ya think you’re doing in y/n’s office, exactly? she doesn’t clock in ‘til 9,” bakugou says, prodding at shindo verbally. the black haired man laughs at bakugou’s accusatory tone and dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

“a little birdie told me that you hate valentine’s day, which i mean, to each your own, but what kind of man wouldn’t shower a beautiful woman with gifts on this wonderful day?” shindo practically sings and bakugou wants to punch him for even talking about you. as if you’d ever like him… right?

that would be silly, bakugou thinks. you’d have to be completely different from the girl he knew knows to ever indulge the likes of yo shindo.

“it’s a shame, really, you know, that you can’t get y/n anything. you know, cos you’re her boss and all. and she told me just how much you think it sucks. at least i’m here to save the day, right?” shindo bites and every word referencing you feels like a slap to bakugou’s face.

at this point, bakugou has had enough of the man, “think you’re forgetting you came to my agency unannounced so i suggest you just drop your shit and leave. next time, get your assistant to do your dirty work,” grumbles bakugou and shindo laughs all boisterous at the brimming anger in the blond’s tone.

“i’ll get out of your hair, dynamight. by the way, you don’t need to tell y/n to check out the gifts. i want it to be surprise, ya get me? thanks bro,” says shindo as he walks from your desk and attempts to pat down bakugou’s chest in ‘good fun’ but bakugou swerves the man and goes to your vacant desk to pick up his paperwork.

shindo chuckles breathily to himself and bakugou doesn’t grace him with a look until he hears the man’s steps fade away. bakugou finally exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and drops the paperwork down to scope out shindo’s gifts for you.

in bakugou’s opinion, they looked like shit. coloured roses in a box is extremely tacky and wouldn’t last even two weeks before rotting. bakugou attacks the pandora bag and opens it in a hurry to see a black ring box holding a silver, halo ring. bakugou scoffs at this: for a man who wanted so badly to prove himself as superior to him, shindo was sure blind to the tastes of a woman such as yourself. bakugou was pretty sure he’d never even see you wear a piece of silver jewellery and you once told him that halo rings were “tacky and so 2012.”

if shindo wanted to play this game, then bakugou would beat him so severely and it wouldn’t even be close. yeah, maybe you were right - maybe he did hate valentine’s day. but he’d enjoy the shitty day if it meant you’d want him over that idiot. and even though he despises fighting for someone’s affection, he hopes that maybe you’ll want him just as much as he wants you.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“morning, y/n! hope you had a good lie in,” chirps bakugou’s secretary gleefully and you smile at her.

“honestly, i needed this. even though i did wanna be here for the early valentine morning, i would not trade my extra sleep,” you laugh, “that reminds me: did you get anything for valentine’s?”

bakugou’s secretary giggles in delight as she stands up to show multiple bags filled to the brim with gifts and you gasp in a mixture of shock and envy.

“you know that gucci bag i wanted? he got me the bag! he really does get me,” sighs bakugou’s secretary and you have to hide a twitch in your eye as you clap your hands together and look among the bags of chocolate, flowers and cards.

“i’m so happy for you!” you exclaim and you hug when kirishima comes in earshot.

“happy valentine’s day, you guys! have anything planned, y/n?” kiri asks and you shrug, all non-committal.

“not much on the agenda for me, ‘m afraid. just gonna finish up a few assignments and swallow down the pain,” you say jokingly and both of your coworkers look at you sympathetically and you want to slap them for pitying you.

“valentine’s isn’t just about romance anyway! you’re loved by all of us,” says bakugou’s assistant and a part of you wants to argue with her for treating you like a petulant little girl.

“guys, ‘m fine, seriously! i’m just gonna head to my office and finish up some things. who knows how the day’ll turn out?” you say, with a slightly embittered tone and it sounds like you’re trying to kid not only the others but yourself too.

you wave the two goodbye and make way to head into your office. huh. that’s strange. you usually always keep your door unlocked after every shift just in case kirishima or bakugou wanted to sift through any missing paperwork.

“whatever,” you think, “maybe the cleaners locked up last night. let me just fish the keys out my bag.”

after grabbing your keys and making note of which one unlocks to your office (you remember half way through jingling your keys around that bakugou painted it orange and red), you open the door haphazardly; simultaneously trying to stuff your things back into your handbag and move in with one leg. when your bag is in good shape and your loose tissues aren’t falling out, you look up to your workspace and your eyes are so wide it’s almost comical.

a bouquet of baby’s breath, pink tulips and snapdragons sit in a bouquet of blue and white tissue paper and a gold looking chain looms the flowers together. there’s a little card situated amongst the flowers and you go to touch it when you see a box and a big, blue gift bag on your desk and chair.

you cover your mouth and gasp in attempt to hold back your shock and delight as you see the bag is labelled “Tiffany’s” and you pull out two velvet boxes: one for a gold necklace with a red heart detail and the other is a gold Tiffany heart ring.

holding almost all your gifts, you decide to take apart the box, sheathed in heart patterned wrapping paper and a box of your favourite pastries sits in them. at this point, you feel like you could cry. who was this person? why would they do all this?

at that moment, you stupidly remember the card in the bouquet and pull it to see scrawny handwriting:

“dear y/n,

happy valentine’s day. hope this will do for all the work you do for me.

love, katsuki,”

you smile and only then do the tears start brimming as you hug the bouquet close to your chest.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

when bakugou heads back from patrol, the office is rumbling with gifts and chatter. he rolls his eyes at this but he entertains the lovesick behaviour of his employees anyway - he even let denki paint his pinky nails pink to “embrace the loving spirit” as denki would put it.

“bakugou! here, come quick!” yells kirishima as he beckons his blond friend over to him by the front of his office.

“what d’ya want now? can’t you lot just celebrate this day without bothering me? ‘already let that idiot paint stupid hearts on my nails,” grumbles bakugou and kirishima shushes him.

“it’s not about that, but you didn’t have to paint your nails - ok, sorry, wait-” kirishima grabs bakugou back and practically whispers (though not discreetly by kirishima fashion), “did you see what y/n got in her office? someone just bought her a shit ton of things!” exclaims the red-head and bakugou shrugs nonchalantly.

“good for y/n. why you telling me this?” bakugou asks suspiciously and kirishima beckons him over with another wave of his hand to whisper again.

“apparently it was shindo yo who got her all that fancy stuff. who would’ve thought, right?”

bakugou’s eyes bulge out his head and his face almost turns as red as kirishima’s hair.

“what?! i mean - ‘s not like i care but where’s y/n right now?” interrogates bakugou and kirishima smiles knowingly but stops to prevent bakugou from being suspicious.

“luckily for you, she’s in her office! you should definitely go to her right now,” kirishima says, pushing his friend towards the office door and nodding at him.

bakugou takes a deep breath before knocking and opening the door, not waiting for your reply. he slams the door in kirishima’s face - you know, as insurance against his prying eyes.

“hey, y/n?” says bakugou slowly and you’re typing away at your desk. the box of pastries he bought you sat next you and were half eaten and the flowers he bought you sat prettily in a vase on the edge of your desk.

as soon as you hear bakugou’s voice, you look up and basically run over to him to throw your arms around his neck. albeit, it’s slightly difficult due to his neck piece but you make due and hug him anyway. bakugou is stiff when he feels you press into him and you pull back to see his somewhat confused expression and you move back at his lack of reciprocation.

“sorry for that - it’s just, thank you for the gifts. i loved them, really. everything was beautiful, especially the necklace,” you say, pulling the necklace out of your white collared shirt.

bakugou narrows his eyes, “you know i got these for you?”

“yeah?” you say and it’s your turn to be confused, “unless there’s another bakugou who put his name on the card and the receipts-”

the cogs turn in bakugou’s head and curses at kirishima in his head, “‘m gonna kill shitty-hair one of these days,” bakugou sighs and you raise a brow.

“why would you do that?” you ask and bakugou shakes his head.

“doesn’t matter. and you’re welcome, by the way. it’s what you deserve,” bakugou curtly nods and you smile so prettily at him and he wants to kiss you so bad. he regrets not hugging you back just now and he’s not sure how to initiate it again.

“you really shouldn’t have spent so much on me, really!”

“tsk, there’s a lot more i wanted to get you, princess,” and it slips out before bakugou could stop it from coming out of his mouth. he’s about to apologise until he sees you look at him with stars in your eyes and your bottom lip is tucked under your teeth.

“oh yeah, like what? what does a ‘princess’ like me deserve?” you entertain him and you test the waters by walking closer to him and bakugou groans and swipes a hand across his face in embarrassment and to prevent you from seeing his face from getting redder and redder.

“i would’ve gotten you the world and it still couldn’t be enough for someone like you,” he breathes out and bakugou closes the gap between you, your chin up to his chest.

“i don’t think i know what i’ve done to deserve this praise,” you whisper and you rest your hands on the planes of his widely built chest and he tenses but quickly relaxes so as to not ruin all the momentum built up at this moment.

“you deal with all my shit even though you don’t ‘ave to,” mumbles bakugou and his hand lifts at your jaw slightly so you’re only a breath away from his cupid’s bow.

“you’re right that i don’t have to. but i like dealing with all your shit. means you trust me,” you say in a hushed tone and both your bated breaths are mingling on each other’s lips.

“trust you more than anything. d’ya trust me?” bakugou asks and you nod at him, wide eyed.

however, this doesn’t satisfy the man and his thumb grazes your jaw and you sigh.

“wanna hear you say it,” bakugou contends.

“trust you with my life, katsuki,” you murmur and bakugou leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.

his hand sits on your chin and your hands pull at his black shirt when you feel him nip at your bottom lip and suck your tongue. the kiss is way too passionate for the workplace and you can feel yourself go numb in the legs.

it’s like bakugou has a sixth sense because he swoops in to sit his large hands to your waist and you to softly pet at his face and his neck. it’s akin to a competition of who can feel the most of each other without bordering on inappropriate but you both can’t get enough. it’s only when you’re out of breath do you pull back and bakugou blinks at you, all dumbstruck like a teenage boy. you giggle a little at him and bakugou playfully pinches at the fat of your hips while you yelp.

“whatchu laughin’ at me for?” he grunts and you pull at his cheek in return.

“it’s nothing, it’s just - this whole time, i thought you hated valentine’s day. what gives?” you inquire and the man ponders a little - though he knew you both knew the answer.

bakugou knocks his head on yours and you pout and he chuckles at you, “‘s like shitty-hair said. didn’t know the right person was always in fron’ of me.”

you ‘boop’ at his nose and bakugou’s face visibly scrunches, “you thought wrong. still, thank you for putting up with my… things. even though you can say you like the decorations, i can see right through you,” you say, matter of fact and bakugou groans.

“yeah, yeah, you got me there. i hate all that extra shit. but if it makes you happy, then i’ll hate it in privacy.”

you smile warmly and pull him down to give him a few more kisses. best valentine’s day ever.

BONUS:

“and by the way, kiri told me that shindo came over by the office today but i wasn’t in. did he need something important?” you ask the blond over lunch in his office and bakugou shakes his head.

“fuck if i know, princess. dunno why he was in there but it was just some paperwork and i dealt with it for you,” mentions bakugou offhandedly and you ‘aww’ at him before kissing his cheek and feeding him some of your onigiri.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“are you sure this is the right place? kacchan gave us strict instructions to discard of this discreetly,” asks deku and todoroki nods.

“yeah, this is the exact coordinates… now that i’m looking at it, what kind of uncultured idiot would buy roses in a box? they go stale after a week,” chastises todoroki and deku taps his foot in agreement.

“well, let’s do it in three, okay?”

an explosion goes off in the distance and you look at bakugou confused and then disappointed.

“you’d think villains would take a day off even on valentine’s day!” you lecture, mouth full and bakugou makes a noise of consensus and pokes at your food-filled cheek with one hand and texts a thumbs up to deku and todoroki with the other.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

[moonpiemoonshine]

Dog eat Dog world

A Rocky Balboa fan fiction

(I have no idea what I’m doing but I have a serious rocky hyper fixation right now and I wanna get it outta my system, but I hope your enjoy. I don’t own any characters besides my own)

It’s cold, breezy and overall unpleasant. Twenty-Eight year old Oliviana Esmé walks down the empty streets of Philly. Her fathers bread shop catching her attention making her stop. She looks through the window, not seeing much; a lonely dinning area and a small counter that laid unattended. The woman opens the door the faint chime ringing in her ears, she heads straight to the counter gliding her hands over the cash register. Using her foot she glided a wooden stool under herself and sat down quickly grabbing a small remote and turning on the tv in the high corner of the opposite wall. The faint sound of machinery clicking ever so steadily in the deep depth of the shop. The door behind her leading to the actual kitchen of the shop and past the kitchen is another door that leads to a basement. The tv flickered and to a drunken fool barley visible. Olivia stopped on a boxing match, not really know who was fighting. She enjoyed herself a nice boxing match; her father was a boxer in his day , known as Evan Esmé; had dreamed of having a boxer child of his own. He planned to have four kids hoping there could be at least some boys in that batch, but when he had Olivia, he had gotten in a match shortly after her birth and a injury he had gotten made it difficult to have any more children. This didn’t stop Evan, he trained Olivia as a boxer and joined a ring of small female boxer community but they weren’t taken seriously so Evan built a ring under his Bread shop to have matches.

Olivia spaces out watching the match and the sound of the door opening slightly spooks her. First she thinks it’s her dad but sees someone else. Rocky Balboa; a man she didn’t know how to feel about. Yes he was very attractive and his not so funny but kinda endearing jokes and his good heart were something to pine for, but her father hates his guts and his boxing was something to avoid even thinking about. Olivia respects her father whole heartedly but doesn’t mind disobeying a time or too.

“I see your watching the match” Rocky says walking up towards the counter. Olivia wants to look at him but can’t seem to handle it, soft blush planting itself on her face and turning her head away to keep it hidden. Her long black hair helping her mission of hiding her face. “There’s no need to get all shy, ya know” He chuckles slightly putting his weight into his arm leaning on the counter. Olivia slightly turns towards him with a small shy smile causing Rocky to get a satisfied smile on his face.

“I don’t got anything ready yet, sorry” Olivia says sounding genuinely sorry but the smile doesn’t fade from Rocky’s face. “I’m not here for no bread, I’m here for you.” This statement causes the smile on Olivia’s face to die instantly, this causes Rocky’s face to change too.

“I’m sorry I can’t. You know my dad doesn’t let me leave during work hours” the quick excuse leaves her lips but she knows this won’t convince the man in front of her. “Last time I checked you guys ain’t never busy unless it’s Sunday. And…. Last time I checked today is Friday so you should be all good to go” he replied with a confidence that wavered. His eyes begging for her to say yes. Olivia did not want to upset her father but she also wanted to give Rocky a chance. Olivia’s face shifted from thought to acceptance and a smile crept onto her face and before she could even say anything Rocky spoke up with a quick “Yess!” As he stands up straight and opened his arm up to wrap it around Olivia.

A small excited laugh leaves the two as Olivia leaves the stool and counter. She slinked her arm around his waist and the two leave the shop together. This action of leaving the shop to hangout with Rocky isn’t new but it’s kinda rare. Every time she did this her father worked her to heavy exhaustion in training. Olivia never told Rocky she was a fighter or that her father is a trainer, all Rocky knows is that her father doesn’t like the way he fights.  Rocky doesn’t even know Olivia’s actually watched some of his matches but Olivia is just too scared to get too attached to Rocky.

“Hey uh, I have a match here soon. I’m goin against Spider,Spider Rico. You should come watch me,I’d love your support” he nervously asked and the guilt hit Olivia before she even could respond. “Rocky, you know my father won’t let me watch the matches. Doesn’t want me around all those ‘wild men’” Olivia responded trying to turn the rejection into a joke but still feeling bad about it. “Well I’ll protect you from them. If ya didn’t know I’m a fighter” Rocky joked but seeming serious at the same time. Olivia wanted to laugh but she knew the response she’s about to give would’ve and probably still will make it awkward. “Rock, you know my father more or less means you” she looked away shamed to have hurt Rocky’s feelings

“Well uh, nots to be disrespectful or nothin but, you’re a big girl aren’t you. You’s lives on your own and make yous own decisions. Only thing your pops has on ya is ya job, but I think you talented enough to get any type job” Rocky says slowly coming to a stop keeping his eye contact on Olivia

“I know but my dads temper is short and he’s known to cut people off of his life. I don’t want him to cut me out” Olivia looks up at Rocky trying fake a confident composure.

“He’s ya father, he’d never cut yous out” Rocky exclaimed shocked

“He was married for twenty years and cut my mom out for staying too late a work. What’s stopping him from cutting out his daughter he’s known for twenty eight years” a sad laugh escapes her lips and Rocky stops and grabs her shoulders and says

“Yous a wonderful lady and I hope your pops never ever cuts you out. If he ever does… I’ll be here to takes cares of yous” he said softy and Olivia smiles and they continue walking.

The two walk out to the docks, talking about this and that. All seems to be going good, some lingering gazes here and there, light hand holding. They stopped themselves at a railing and were standing closely together and slowly leaning in closer. Before anything could happen a black car quickly pulls in close to them, Olivia’s face falling fast. She pushes Rocky away from her and panic sets in.

“Sorry Rocky it’s my dad. I’ll see you later, bye��� she says quickly and gets in the passenger seat of the car and it quickly pulls out. Olivia hangs her head low hands quickly in her lap. A quick but hard slap hits her head and she takes it.

“You’re late. I paid good money for you to get this fight and your whoring around with a good for nothing half wit.” Her father spits not even looking at her

“I know, I thought I had time” Olivia meakly replied

“Well you didn’t! I’ll tell you when you have time” he yelled and pulled next to the bread shop. A outside stairwell goes down to the basement and Olivia runs down the steps and reaches the ring. She sees another woman and her coach warming up so Olivia runs to her locker room and changes into her black padded sports bra and maroon boxing shorts. Right when she finished up getting dressed her father busts in and starts wrapping her hands and another man walks in and puts up her hair up.

She puts her black gloves in and walks out to the rings and steps onto the Matt, she heads to her corner and squats towards the ropes. Her dad and his friend is standing on each side of the corner. Her dad grabs her hair and yanks her closer to him.

“You win this, your fighting a little man twink next month” he whispers and puts the mouth hard in her mouth. Olivia nodded and sat up faced her appointment.

After a few rounds Olivia knocked her opponent and left the ring. Back into her regular clothes her dad waits for her outside the locker and when she appears he harshly grabs her by the shoulder.

“Good job Oli, your ready for a guy now. I know it’s not regulated by I honestly don’t give a flying shit. You can knock down any two tit bitch you want. I want a real challenge for my girl” he says guiding her up the stairs. Olivia doesn’t know how to respond so just accepts it. “And I will double down on your training for this. No more shifts at the shop. And no more dumb shit Rocky” his daughter just continued to nods and grabs her bag and leaves.

Olivia heads to her small apartment and pets her small Doberman on the small couch near the front of the room. She showers and gets in her comfy clothes and chills on the couch with her dog ( Levi) and watches tv but then hears a knock on her door. She knows it’s Rocky but he can’t see the bruises on her face, he won’t be live her that she box’s. He’s gonna think her father did this. She gets up and barley opens the door.

“I can’t Rocky, I’m tired and not feeling well. To much time around the bread maker today” she said trying to sound tired.

“Oh no, yous want me to take care of ya, I can do anything. Even hang with just Levi, make sure your old man doesn’t bother you tonight” he says and it makes Olivia’s heart melt.

“I’m fine Rocky. Have a good night” Olivia closed the door and heard Rocky faintly wish her a good night as well. This caused Olivia to turn off the tv and lights to let the message be known that she’s going to bed to Rocky. She walks up the four steps to the small second level and lays in her bed, Levi closely following.

A few days go past and Olivia is healed up at least in the face and she meets up with Rocky outside the gym. She gives him a big hug and and hugs her just as passionate.

“I haven’t seen yous in a while” Rocky said as they pulled away from the hug.

“Sorry, been busy Levi wasn’t doing too good and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t left alone” She replied

“I would’ve came over and helps yous. I love Levi too” he chuckles and gives her his award winning smile.

“I know. Just didn’t wanna bother you” she smiles back. “You and your match deserve more attention than me and a little sick puppy”

“Nah, I’d spend all the time in the world with you, sick puppy included” Rocky slowly leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Olivia indulged in the kiss then quickly remembered she was in public and doesn’t want anyone to tell her father. So she softly pulled away.

“Well speaking of that fight, it’s tonight if yous wanna watch” he offers and Olivia so caught up in the previous kiss wants to say yes, and doesn’t wanna say no to him after not being able to see him all week.

“I’ll watch. I promise” This statement brightens Rocky’s face up ten fold and he doesn’t even respond. He grabs her face and kisses her harder than before. She laughs in shock and kisses him back but tries to lead him in the alley way of the building so no one sees her.

That night she goes down to where the fight happening and stays in the shadows near the edges of the room. She sees the fight go down and cringes at the roaring voices calling Rocky a bum. After the match ends before Rocky can leave Olivia props up her hood and slithers her way to the sides of the ring and reaches her hand out and touches Rocky’s leg.

“Nice show stud” a cheeky smirk lays on her face and a tired smile crosses on Rocky’s face but before he could respond Rocky was ushered out of the ring to change.

Olivia waits outside for Rocky still with her hood on and once Rocky walked out she let out a quiet excited squeal and came up to him and gave him a light hug. “It was amazing to finally watch you fight” she says even though she has seen and heard his fights plenty of times, but it was under her fathers orders on what she shouldn’t do.

“It was amazing knowing yous were there” he said picking up her hand and leaving a small kiss on her knuckles.

The two spent the rest of the night together, Olivia took Rocky back to her place for dinner. He sits at the small bar watching Olivia cook him a nice spaghetti.

“It’s nothing special, but it’s easy. I don’t wanna disappoint you with my cooking skills” Olivia giggles while looking at him watch her cook.

“I’ve seen you cook real fancy dishes with the basic stuff before, when it comes to cookin you’d never disappoint. You never disappoint with anythin” Rocky says lovingly.

“Rocky your too much” Olivia says finishing up the food and plating it for the two of them. She gives Rocky his plate and he gives her a thank you kiss.

After dinner the two cuddle up in her bed, Olivia cuddled into Rocky’s chest and her leg over his. Rocky rests his hand on her thigh and he noticed a bruise on her side cause her tank top was raising up.

“What happened to yous?” He questioned lightly brushing his thumb over her bruise emphasizing what he was asking.

“Ran into the bread machine, wasn’t paying good attention to where I was going. I swear it’s fine” Olivia reassured knowing it was lie, knowing it was from her fight.

“You’ve been tired and dazed recently. I don’t think yous should be working with those machines” worry drips from his voice and Olivia cuddles further into his chest with a small sigh.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, dad noticed it too so I’m not working the shop no more. He’s giving me the next month off and pay for this month” Olivia states closing her eyes

“That’s good. Sees I told yous ya dad cares. ” Rocky says with a small chuckle and a small laugh escapes Olivia.

“Yea. I guess those eight additional years really helped me out” She replied and a giant laugh leaves Rocky.

Olivia cranes her head up and faces Rocky and gives him a gentle smile and gives him a light kiss and when she pulls away the two lock eyes and she says

“Night stud, good job today” she smiled when Rocky replied with a good night as well and they shared one last kiss and the two went to bed.

Olivia has been non stop training for her match, and Rocky had been chosen to fight the heavy weight champion Apollo Creed so he had been seriously training too. He’s been staying at Olivia’s apartment since he felt more at ease with her, and even took Levi out on his runs with him. Rocky has been wanting Olivia to come and watch him train but she jsut couldn’t with her heavy training she was being put under. She had been getting home later than usual and more exhausted than normal. She’s kinda lost track of time and some things and Rocky has been really worried about her, but she’s been worried about Rocky himself. The day of her match she had promised Rocky she’d make dinner for the two and they’d have a nice day off but she completely forgot about her match when she has said that. So that night when Rocky sat there waiting he worried. He stormed out of the apartment and wanted to talk to her father one of for all.

Olivia stands in her corner. Hair up and gloves on. She waits for the ref to get on the canvas. She hears the shouting of the smallish crowd. The man across from her built but not big. Fear creeps into her. Visibly shaking, but her father smacks her calf signaling for her to stop. Trying her best to calm her nerves she looks on. The fight starts and she takes heavy blows left and right, making her hit the canvas before the end of the first round. Her father yelling for her to get up. She shoots up and fights with him more.

Rocky goes to the shop but it isn’t open but he hears the yelling from the crowd form the outside stairwell. He follows the sound and walks down. He emerges into the basement and sees the fight going on. His soul is rocked when he sees Olivia fighting a MAN. He rushes to the side of the ring to get a better look. Rocky arrived around the third round and Olivia doesn’t look good at all. She’s a walking pile of roadkill.

Olivia quick on her feet lands a left jab to his ribs and he keels down and she right hooks him in the jaw followed by a left hook. The man hits the ground and the count starts. Olivia wobbles and holds her breath to stand up and once the word ten leaves the refs mouth the crowd goes wild. Olivia let’s put a breaths and tears leave her eyes. She practically falls on the ropes and her father gets on the mat and pats her hard on the shoulder and holds up her arm in victory. He guided her out of the ring and carried her off to the locker room.

“Olivia! Olivia! Is she all right!?” He yelled through the crowd and then pushes through it to her father.

“Get outta here Rocky, she don’t need you” her dad snapped at him.

“How could you do this to her! She could die!” Rocky shouted in worry

“No she won’t. I’ve had her training day and night for this one fight. Now that she won this she’ll win another. Now get lost bum” her father snapped and brought her into he locker room.

One of her fathers female friends helped shower Olivia off and she got dressed and hobbled up the stairs and she saw Rocky and wanted to break down.

“Look Rocky-“

“How could you do this, how could you not tell me. Yous could have died. I could have lost yous” Rocky cuts her off and holds her face in his hands.

“My dad, he made me. I boxed heavy weight girls for the first half of this year. My dad he, said I was ready to fight a guy. A lightweight” Olivia responded tears flowing from her face.

“Your pops obviously doesn’t knows what’s he doin. You need to know when it’s time to stop.” Rocky’s voice shaking tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“I’m sorry Rocky” Olivia sobbed. She buried her face his chest and cried.

Rocky picked Olivia up and carried her to her apartment. He lightly dropped her down into the bed. He snuggled himself besides her and rubbed her arms. He could feel the sore spots and the swelling that came from the the blows she had to endure. Rocky stays awake thinking Olivia fell asleep.

“I won’t do it anymore. I don’t wanna lose you. I don’t wanna worry you. If my father leaves he leaves. He didn’t care if I died today so what’s the point.” Olivia mumbled into her pillow and Rocky holds her closer.

“I don’t wants ya to end it with your pops, I just want yous to be safe.” He says into her hair. Leaving a light kiss on the back of her neck.

“I’m done fighting. I wanna stay with you” Olivia says turning to face Rocky with a hiss of pain.

“I’ll do the fightin for us” Rocky says to Olivia stroking her hair back and giving her a light kiss. “Goodnight, me and Levi will be back to take care of you in the morning”

“Okay, night stud” she said with a small smile and fell asleep.

The next morning Olivia feels like she can’t move, her whole body is sore. She hasn’t been able to sleep in like this in a while. She enjoys the softness of the bed but relies that Rocky and mostly likes Levi too are gone on a run. Olivia closes her eyes ready to fall back asleep but a loud banging on the door wakes her. She knows it’s not Rocky. She panics knowing it’s most likely her dad. She covers herself with her blanket and hoping he’d go away but the sounds of her dad bursting through the door shouting her names scares her. He storms up the stairs and opens the door and rips the blanket off of her.

“The hell are you doing in bed still! You have training!” He shouts grabbing her hair and yanking her out of bed. Her body screaming at her for even getting up.

“I can’t! I’m done dad!” She screamed in pain dragging her down the stairs tears flowing down her face. The shock of the stairs hitting her legs making her body feel like it’s on fire.

“I tell you when you’re done!” He shouts and gets her close to the door but Rocky storms in shouting at her dad.

Rocky pushes her father but his grip was firm in her hair. Olivia crying and trying to gets his hands off her. Two two men arguing and Rocky pissed beyond anything. He pushes Olivia’s father again and his grip leaves her hair and the two men continue to argue.

“She’s done! She almost died! She is not going back in that ring!” Rocky shouts and gets closer to her father.

“She’s don’t when I say she’s done! Her hanging around with you is making her weak! She’s never think of quitting but you put these pussy ideas into her head!” He responds getting closer to Rocky. The two look like they are gonna fight. Rocky looks like he’s gonna blow and he looks like he’s gonna throw a punch and her fathers says “you’re not gonna punch her father now are you?” He taunted

“But I’m gonna punch my own father” Olivia said making him flip his attention to Olivia and she is barley standing and throws a hard punch to his face and he fumbles back into Rocky’s arms. Olivia falls to her knees and Rocky basically dragged him out of the house and tossed him onto the sidewalk outside.

“She’s done! I don’t ever wanna see your face near her! Rocky shouts and slammed the door. Quickly he got down and picked Olivia up and placed her on the couch. He was in tears stroking her hair.

“I’m sorry Rocky” Olivia said in a shaky voice.

“No, no yous done nothing. Don’t worry, I’ll take good cares if ya” Rocky said in a hushed tone and kissed her forehead.

(Stay tuned for part two 😌)

[sadstarsz]

future

whenever someone asks me where i picture myself in the future i always think of the same thing; dead. i have wanted to be dead for as long as i can remember, i can literally physically feel the depression in my body. however, i never tell anyone because it feels attention seeking or im worried they'll see me differently or even say it's just some 'teen angst' but i am so much more than that. so you know what? fuck that. i am tired of wanting to die or disappear. in the future, i want to move to a nice city somewhere far away from my current town and live in a flat with my future girlfriend. i want to have reached out and gotten help. i want to be going to therapy and doing better. i want to stop self-harming so my scars will hopefully fade and showers will stop making me wince at the constant stinging. i'll publish poetry books and YA novels. i'll to get a semi-colon tattoo on my left wrist, a star behind my right ear and a music note on my shoulder. i'm gonna make music. if i don't earn enough money from writing and music i'll either open up a little shop filled with alternative clothing, records, trinkets etc (basically something similar to a charity shop) or i'll be a criminal physcologist. i want to be something.

i want to make an impact on the world because i dont want to have wasted my life being sad; that's what i've been doing for god knows how long. i really want to be able to say all the things im too weak or too quiet to. i wish i could say what i want to; future me better try and do that. i hope in the future people know me for something good. i dont want to be the 'person you sit next to in class' or 'the girl who let you copy her answers in maths'. i want to make a difference. i want someone who is struggling and is different just like i am to know that i understand. all i've ever wanted is to feel understood. so please future me, make a difference and help one sad teenager feel understood.

when i get older (like grandma kind of old) i want to live in a little cottagey type of home but not one with a straw roof. i want to grow old there with the future girlfriend who will at this point hopefully be my future wife. i want to have bookshelves and bookshelves of books. i want to travel around the world in a caravan with my wife for about a year.

my final wish for future me is to just be happy, in all honesty as much as i'd love all this all i really need is to be happy.

[truckreincarnation]

Another Fuck-up to the Pile | Shinjuku | Trial 2 Results Reaction

…..

…..oh.

As soon as the results are read, and confirmed to be correct, Shin just completely freezes up. It… really was just an accident?? There… there’s no way, right??? He stares in shock, his voice in his throat as everything just hits him at once. He… he was wrong. There was no one to blame for Perry’s death, other than her own misfortune. That everyone’s ridiculous arguments were right.

It still rings as unreal.

As Meili gets punished for not voting, Shin stares for a moment, before looking away as Theophania rushes over there to help here. He felt bad for him, but at the same time, his own thoughts were swarming.

The fact he was so convinced it was Frank, the fact that he growled at people calling them idiots for trusting in this idea. His own brashness took over his head, wanting to make sure no one else innocent died. To make sure he could protect someone he cared for, and as such… His anger just took over and once again-

He lost control.

The right intentions, very wrong execution.

And god, how the guilt hits him so heavily.

As the King’s voice fades, complete with the hosts running off to find someone to execute, his blood runs cold. What?? Someone else still needs to die for a fucking accident?? That’s not fucking fair, as he loathes the King already from his first words. What a sick son of a bitch, how could he still enforce this shit??

Yet before he could go off some more, he glances back at the group. Shit. Shit shit shit.

Shin grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to manage his words. Ohhhh god, well, this is a massive mountain to climb over. A massive thing he has to address.

“.....I… I-”

Finally, it just spills out.

“I’m sorry.”

As he says that, he slips off his glasses to properly address everyone. “Sorry for uh- losing control, getting that fucking angry and snapping at everyone. And that I was wrong. I… I can make it up and properly apologize to some of you all later, but you got that already-.” How his rage can boil, how he will not stand down until proven wrong. How it just clouds his judgment, leading to something like that. Ah, how grief can be such a strong, double-edged weapon.

Quietly, his eyes flash toward Avery, nodding, before going toward Frank. “...and sorry, that I doubted you.” They can properly discuss that later, but, when he’s wrong, at least he can own up to it. That much is certain. “Just… just grab me later.”

Now, stepping down from the hill he was so ready to die on, his expression grows sour. “Now I gotta talk about this shit. Oi, dickhead-!!”

Shin calls toward the sky, his normal energy slowly returning, yet the lingering feelings of intense sorrow and guilt remain on the corners of his voice. “Ya think this is fucking entertainment, eh??? Fuck you-!! God how I hate people in charge, and you are no exception. Quit talking so largely and get over here, I’m sure you’ll no longer find it as fucking enjoyable!!”

He grins slightly, redirecting his anger. “So laugh. Laugh all you want, you’ll be fucking regretting it soon enough you bastard-!!”

Perhaps his own cockiness getting to his head, but god. What entertainment that would be watching this piece of shit crumble. He couldn’t care about the repercussions now.

“…okay I’m good now.”

With that, the mercenary huffs as Alvarie speaks up, placing his glasses back on while trying to ignore the dread setting in. All the emotions swirling. The fact that someone else was bound to die for the sake of his royal ass’s entertainment. What a fucking joke.

And even if he projected his anger with his loud mouth, all he could feel was that intense sense of guilt. Perry’s still dead, and someone else will follow. And yet, there was so much he had to try to come back from.

It’s another bad decision on his wall of shame. The grief of losing someone close will continue to eat at him.

This fucking sucks.

[romione-trope-fest]

A Wizard In Heat

Today’s second fic is a Fuck or Die from CandyMan91!

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

Fic Title: A Wizard In Heat Author Name: CandyMan91 Selected Trope: Fuck or Die Brief Summary: Ron needs something to calm his nerves before the first Quidditch Match of the year. Hagrid supplies him with something that effectively makes him far less nervous than normal, but its other effects may be his doom. Word Count: 5,285 words Rating: M

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It was the day before the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch match, and Ron was feeling rather anxious about it. He kept biting his nails out of nervousness, and fear of making a fool out of himself during the game. His situation was certainly not being helped by the fact that he could only talk with one of his two best friends. Well, technically he could talk to Hermione, but why would he want to? 

She certainly didn’t want to talk to him about her and Vicky’s snogging sessions. He just couldn’t believe her. After all those rows where she told him Krum was just a friend, and now he had to find out from his sister that not only was he the only one from his two best friends to have never kissed anyone, but that if he ever got the unlikely chance to kiss Hermione she’ll probably be comparing him the entire time to stupid bloody Krum.

He needed a distraction, so he went to Hagrid. He wasn’t expecting an eye opening conversation or advice concerning his situation with Hermione from him, but a good chat with him could maybe cheer him up. As he headed down to Hagrid’s hut he saw him standing outside feeding his Blast–Ended Skrewts. 

“Hey Hagrid,” said Ron in what he hoped sounded like a cheerful tone.

“Hiya’ Ron” said Hagrid in his usual joyus self. “Ow’ are ya’? Excited for tomorrow’s match?”

‘Well,’ Ron thought. ‘That lasted all but two seconds trying to avoid what’s been making you feel like throwing up all day.’

“Not particularly, no,” he said, trying to mask how truly anxious he felt.

“O’ nonsense,” said Hagrid, waving his hand as if trying to wave away his nervousness. “You’ll do great ‘am sure of it”

Trying to steer away from the Quidditch match Ron started asking about how his day was going, how his classes were shaping up for the new third years and anything else that came to mind that would for certain avoid the topic of Quidditch or Hermione. 

He wasn’t so lucky as the conversation ended up drifting to brooms which made Hagrid ask how his Cleansweep Eleven was working, which ended up with Hagrid saying how he would make the Gryffindor Quidditch Team proud even on a splintered Shooting Star. Ron felt his face burn red at his praise.

“If you say so,” said Ron while shrugging his shoulders and looking down at his feet.

Seeing how upset Ron looked, Hagrid went inside his hut and came back out holding a vial with a red shimmering liquid inside it. 

“Tell ya’ what?” said Hagrid handing Ron the vial. “Ya’ drink tha’ before ya’ go ta sleep? Ya’ll wake up with enough courage to lift a hippogriff.” Hagrid said, a smile plastered on his face.

Ron took the vial and held it in his hand. A smile formed on his face before fading away to be replaced with one of concern. 

“Thanks Hagrid, but… isn’t this cheating?” Ron asked him, while putting the vial in front of him.

“It’d be cheatin’ if it made ya’ grow an extra pair of arms to catch those Quaffles, but it’ll only calm yer’ nerves.” 

Ron thanked Hagrid, took the vial and put it in his pocket before heading back inside the castle. Unfortunately, he stumbled upon the only person he didn’t want to deal with.

“Ron!” yelled Hermione walking towards him.

He pretended not to hear her calling and headed straight to Gryffindor Tower, for some much needed sleep. He started walking faster, to which Hermione responded by quickening her step.

“Ron, stop for a second!” Hermione shouted once more. Ron was in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait when Hermione caught up with him. “RON!” she bellowed. “It’s been days since we’ve last spoken! May I know what unforgivable thing I did to deserve this kind of treatment from you!” Ron didn’t pay attention to any of what Hermione said, he simply said the password and walked into the Common Room. 

Hermione’s mouth hung open in indignation and before she could say anything regarding Ron’s rude behavior he had already gone up to his dorm room, leaving Hermione to stomp her feet in frustration. 

Ron put on his pajamas and stood beside his bed. He looked at the vial with the red liquid inside and contemplated whether he should drink it or not. After debating for 2 seconds he drank all of the potion. He felt as the red fluid went down his throat and a warming sensation came across his body from his head to his toes. It felt energizing and hot, like he’d just been given a star for dinner. Even if this thing didn’t work he’d definitely have to ask more from Hagrid. After a few seconds with his head on his pillow Ron drifted off to sleep.

He opened his eyes to see The Burrow at dusk. He was drawn to it like a moth to a fire. He entered to see that only a few lights were lighting up his home. He walked up the stairs and saw the lights of the bathroom on. He heard the shower running as the door was slightly ajar and for some reason something inside himself decided to take a peek at who was showering when no one else was supposed to be at his home. 

He was taken back by the sight before him, Hermione was showering. Her naked self stood before him, her curvaceous body was dripping with water under the shower head, her mane of wet curls covered her back and almost reached her arse. Her breasts, while not the biggest, were still a handful. She opened her eyes to look at him, his eyes widened and his mouth hung open, while his ears and cheeks went red from the embarrassment of getting caught.

“I–I’m so sorry Hermione!” he rushed to say. “I–I just… I saw the door open and… I–” Ron stopped talking as Hermione turned off the shower and started walking towards him. Her hips were swaying hypnotically. Her tanned skin looked like the most delectable thing he’s ever wanted to taste. She was smirking in a way that made his mind go numb. 

“Hermione?” Ron asked, looking at those gorgeous brown eyes that could hardly contain his urge to look at her tits.

“What would you like to do, Ron?” she said completely unfazed by the fact that she was standing in front of Ron naked as the day she was born.

“Wh–what?!” Ron spluttered.

“Better question,” she said now, only inches apart from each other. “What would you like to do to me Ron?” and as she said this she took Ron’s hand and slowly directed it to her breast. 

Ron gasped as his hand came in contact with Hermione’s right breast. He could no longer control his desire as he started groping her tit, he felt her nipple harden beneath his palm and she could hear sweet moans coming from her mouth. After a while his touches might’ve not been enough as she took his hand and slowly, but surely she directed his hand to her crotch.

He could feel Hermione’s most intimate part, her folds were slick, and he thought he might’ve passed out from what was happening to him, he must’ve frozen in place, since she started rubbing herself with his hand. After a while he started moving on his own trying to bring her to completion. Her moans were intoxicating and he didn’t know if he could get any harder. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ and her eyes were shut in pleasure as she started calling out for his name.

“Ron” she moaned

“Ron!” but her voice suddenly became deeper.

“RON!” Ron woke up to see Harry near his bed, standing over him with his pajamas on. “Good. You’re awake, time to get up” Harry said as he threw Ron his Quidditch uniform. He hesitantly got up from his bed and went to the bathroom to get ready. As Ron finished his shower, he went to put a towel around his waist only to find his penis rock hard. It was red, swollen and angry looking even. 

“Better take care of it.” Ron thought. He quickly locked the door to the bathroom, to relieve himself, when the doorknob started twitching. He put the towel around his waist making sure that his stiffy didn’t stick out too much. He wasn’t the smallest man on the planet and he was also quite tall, so his size wasn’t a big surprise. 

“Oi, Ron! You finished or what?” Asked Harry.

Ron debated between letting Harry get ready for the match or having a quick wank. He eventually let Harry albeit reluctantly, leaving himself with his problem throughout the rest of the morning.

When Ron and Harry arrived at the Gryffindor table Ron was received with a cold Hermione, he knew it was his own fault yet that wasn’t what he first noticed. Her cute button nose was screaming at him to kiss it, her eyes were boring into his, her neck looking so cold and Ron knew just how to warm it up.

His heart was beating inside his chest, and his member, which hadn’t gone down, was throbbing. Blimey! What was wrong with him? Just yesterday he had completely ignored her, because of bloody Krum. He could show her a real snog, not that pompous Bulgarian git. A sudden feeling of competitiveness made Ron look at Hermione who was looking back at him strangely, had his mind not been as fogged as it was he might’ve realized it she looked worried.

“Is there something wrong with me this week?” Hermione asked, her tone remaining icy yet her face telling a different tale.

Ron shook his head. “No,” he said with what might’ve been a grunt. “You just look pretty today.” He said it like he was telling her what he was having for dinner. Hermione for her part had gone pink, the retort that she was surely ready to reply with was gone. Harry was focusing on his own breakfast.

“It’s a bit hot today isn’t it?” said Hermione, probably trying to change the subject. Ron noticed as she fanned herself the sweat running down her neck, and he felt the sudden urge to lick it. His cock once again throbbed inside his pants and Ron thought that it might actually explode. His head was pounding, it felt like someone was hammering a nail into his skull.

His breathing was becoming ragged and he was sweating profusely, Harry and Hermione were looking at Ron with worry, they understandably thought that he was nervous. However Ron’s current condition had nothing to do with the game. He wasn’t even that nervous about it for some reason, maybe Hagrid’s tonic had truly worked, he hoped so he didn’t need to be on his nerves while playing with a raging hard on. He didn’t even notice Lavender Brown trying to cheer him up.

“There you go, Ron. Drink up” said Harry sliding what looked like pumpkin juice Ron’s way. 

Ron absentmindedly went to pick up his cup when Hermione’s voice shook him out of his trance.

“Don’t drink that, Ron!” Ron put the cup down and shot her with a questioning look. She looked at Harry like she couldn’t believe her own eyes. “You put something in Ron’s drink” Harry denied it which made Hermione start arguing with him. He didn’t really mind the fact that Harry most probably did put something in his drink, however the tonic that Hagrid had given him had certainly done wonders for his nerves. Hermione and Harry’s argument was only making his headache worse. 

“It wouldn’t be fair so don’t even think about dri–” Hermione turned to look at Ron just to see his seat empty, his drink untouched. Harry and Hermione saw the back of Ron walking out of the Great Hall. They looked at each other and while Hermione had something reminiscent of a triumphant look she was still worried about Ron, he for his part could not get rid of his hard on no matter how hard he tried, every-time he tried closing his eyes and think about something relatively disgusting his train of thought would circle back to Hermione, her neck, her breasts, her arse. He finally gave up and decided to instead focus on the game. At least he could get a good wank after everything was done.

Harry and Hermione could not find Ron anywhere and soon enough the game started, Hermione wished Harry good luck and went to the locker rooms to find Ron looking extremely sweaty and fidgety.

“Mate,” said Harry. “Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t have to play if you’re not feeling well.”

Ron looked at Harry, for a second he looked crazy like when he first met Sirius and his eyes were full of insanity, before Ron composed himself and stood up. “I’m fine,” he said. “I just need to finish this stupid bloody match and go to bed.”

Harry nodded and soon enough the game had started.

Harry was expecting Ron to miss a bunch of the shots thrown at him, however, to Harry’s surprise, and most of the Gryffindors, Ron was playing perfectly. He handled his broom like a pro, his eyes seemed to know where each Quaffle was going, and he wasn’t reacting to any of Slytherin’s taunts or even the ‘Weasley is our King’ song. He seemed completely focused on the game. Things were going great

‘Things are not going great’ thought Ron, when the game finished. It had been spectacular, but the game had done nothing to calm his erection, he briefly wondered if this was his life from now on, a raging hard–on wherever he went, being called a pervert by anyone who’d see it.

His miserable thinking was quickly broken by Hermione’s voice.

“I knew it! I knew it!” said Hermione excitedly running towards Ron and launching herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I knew you didn’t need that Felix Felicis. See what I told you Harry?”

“Yes, you were right. What a surprise Hermione.” He said sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes, and her gaze turned to Ron’s face which had gone red as a tomato, he was sweating profusely and was looking at her like she was a meal, his eyes told all of his hunger. His look made her feel uneasily good, it didn’t last as Ron wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

“Thank you.” Ron whispered right by her ear, his hot breath sent shivers down her spine. She would’ve sworn he took a sniff of her hair, but he was probably just exhausted.

Ron then quickly detached himself and stood over by Harry’s side leaving him in the middle of whatever had just happened. Ron looked if anything quite ashamed of himself. And he was, he didn’t thank her for believing in him, or for praising him or hugging him. No, Ron thanked her because the minimal physical contact had made wonders for his current predicament. 

Hermione’s hug had left him with some relief, but as soon as he felt that relief an urge waved throughout his body. An urge to have her. Have her in every position, in every way, on every corner of his bed. He hadn’t wrapped her hands around her waist because he tried returning her hug, he had done it out of self control, he had wanted to put his hands on her arse and squeeze it to show her how he could handle more than a Quaffle.

The walk back towards the Common Room was filled with congratulations towards Harry and Ron (More to Ron than to Harry, but Harry was fine with that). When they finally reached the Common Room, Ron went and excused himself from the party with the excuse of wanting to go and shower then go to sleep as he wasn’t feeling quite well. Harry and Hermione asked him if he needed to go to Madame Pomfrey, but he told them a good nap was all he wanted.

‘That and Hermione’s hot mouth on my–’ Ron quickly interrupted his own train of thought. And walked towards his dormitory. And then Lavender Brown went and got in his way.

“You were brilliant, Ron,” said Lavender in an exaggerated girly tone. 

“Thanks, Lavender.” he said, trying to dismiss her. “It was nothing.” Ron went to try and go around her, but she continued to block his way.

“I don’t think it was nothing,” she said in what may have been a flirty tone, but Ron dismissed it as part of his headache. She put her hand on his chest and Hermione, who had been observing all of this play out, couldn’t help the dread that she felt. This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening. She had invited Ron to Slughorn’s Christmas Party, Hermione thought something could come out of it, but was she really going to lose him, because Lavender Brown was flashing her eyelashes at Ron?

Hermione saw as Lavender closed her eyes and her lips went towards Ron’s, she couldn’t move, she could just watch the boy she was in love with being dragged away by her own roommate. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t, and she was glad she didn’t as Ron put his hands on her shoulders and told her something that she couldn’t quite hear. Lavender’s eyes flashed towards Hermione, before going back to Ron, an expression of anger on her face was all it took for Hermione to realize that Ron had just rejected Lavender.

She saw as Lavender’s open palm went against Ron’s face and the sound resonated throughout the Common Room, everyone stopped what they were doing and saw Lavender’s eyes fill with tears as she ran to her dormitory, Ron was looking decidedly at the ground, nobody said anything as he walked upstairs towards his own dormitory. Hermione, however, saw a flash of pain cross his face as he went to climb the stairs.

Ron closed the door behind him and quickly went to the bathroom, closing the door and putting a locking charm on the door he splashed water on his face. As the scene replayed again and again inside his head. Lavender had tried kissing him, but everything about it would’ve been wrong, her lips wouldn’t have been small enough, her hair wavy instead of bushy, herself not Hermione enough.

He got out of the bathroom and tried calming himself, his headache had only grown worse and he felt as if someone was launching bludgers directly at his head. He went to try and unbuckle his belt and lower his pants when he heard the door open. By its entrance was Hermione looking at him with those gorgeous brown eyes that he so loved.

“Ron?” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, Hermione.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth she looked in a disbelieving way towards Ron. “Seriously everything’s fi–”

“Everything’s not fine.” Hermione interrupted him as she walked towards him. She put her small soft hand on his forehead, and Ron was internally screaming for someone to kill him. She was too close, too small, too easy to just… Ron wouldn’t end that sentence, instead he focused on what she was saying. “You’re burning up and sweating and that was even before the game. What’s going on, Ron?”

“I don’t know I–” Words failed him. “I felt fine until this morning I just…”

“Was it something you ate perhaps?”

“No, I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday in the morning… But…” 

“But what, Ron?”

“Hagrid gave me a tonic.” Hermione’s eyes immediately widened as realization hit her.

“Ron! How could you do such a thing?!”

“I wasn’t cheating, he told me it was just for nerves.” Ron tore himself away from Hermione and went to his bedside table. He took the empty vial and shoved it in her hands. “See?”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she saw the small drops that Ron hadn’t drinked. “Ron,” she said in a scared tone Ron could recognize anywhere. “Please tell me you didn’t drink this.” 

“I already told you I did.”

“Ron, this isn’t a normal tonic. This is Calore Venereo,” she said worriedly.

“Why’d you say it like that, Hermione?” He asked, equally worried now.

“Calore Venereo is a tonic used on animals to, well… um… help them.” she said the last bit quietly and Ron noticed her face blushing.

“Help them how, Hermione?”

“You know… Help them… “ Hermione looked at Ron’s pleading face and took a deep breath. “Breed,” to say Ron looked surprised would be an understatement, his jaw hung open and his eyes went wide as saucers.

“WHAT?!” he almost yelled.

“When an animal or magical beast is in need of procreation, but they won’t… mate with other members of their species, it’s used as a way to help them… Want to procreate.”

Ron couldn’t speak, his mouth was dry as a dessert he desperately wanted some way of quenching his thirst. “Why would Hagrid give me something like that?”

“It’s supposed to be inoffensive in creatures like centaurs, mermaids or… giants. I think Hagrid was genuinely trying to help you, he just didn’t know how this might affect you.”

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“Well…” said Hermione, her voice worried and quivering. “The effects are normally overheating, sweating, as well as headaches until the body ceases if it… doesn’tfindaproperbreedingmate.”

Hermione said the last part so fast Ron almost didn’t understand it. Almost. He was going to die, just because he had been too nervous for a Quidditch Match.

“The effects can only be gone once you… well you heard what animals need to do didn’t you?”

Ron’s eyes would be popping out of his head by the time this conversation was over. He was supposed to have sex or else he would be stuck with an eternal boner for the rest of his life. On top of all that Hermione was the one to tell him all of this.

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that?!” Ron asked heatedly. Hermione for her part was blushing to the roots of her hair.

“W–well… Y–you know… if you really needed help…” said Hermione, her voice quiet. “I could…” Ron didn’t need her to finish, he could already tell the implication of what she was offering.

“No, Hermione!” he practically bellowed. And on instinct he silenced the door to his dorm room. “No! I can’t let you– No bloody way!” He put his hands on the table, frustrated and sweating even more.

“Honestly, Ron,” said Hermione, she sounded a bit hurt for some reason. “It’s nothing, if you don’t you’ll really di–”

“I’d rather die then,” he replied, almost growling. He put his fingers on his temple, his headache nearly killing him. And the urge from before suddenly became impossible to ignore. She was right there, just a few steps, a kiss. She was already offering why wasn’t he taking her already? 

“Hermione… Leave…” He was pleading with her, as something like his instinct was threatening to control his every being.

“Ron, stop being so stubborn it’s not a big deal!” She screamed at him. “I want to do this for you if I don’t–” And her voice began to wane. The voice inside his head, which Ron recognized as his libido was now screaming at him. Ron tried to fight it, but he couldn’t and then he heard Hermione once more.

“Fine,” she said, her voice sounded like she was crying. “If you’d like I can call Lavender for you, see if I care!”

She began to turn, walking to the door when just as she was about to turn the door knob Ron appeared from behind her. Moving slowly he locked the door, taking her shoulder and mashing his lips to hers.

Somehow in that moment even when he had no experience regarding kissing her he knew he was doing a good job. His tongue swirled around her mouth, and his lips sucked on her tongue.

Hermione had been surprised by Ron’s sudden advance, and she quickly recovered, kissing him back with equal passion. It was by far too good, somehow Ron knew every inch from her mouth as if he owned it. His hands gripped her shoulders before they moved agonizingly slowly downwards ending on her bum which he gripped with a possessive grip. 

It was then that Ron woke up, he ripped himself from Hermione who had a dazed expression on her face.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry Hermione. Fuck, you need to leave.”

That seemed to get her out of her daze. 

“What?!” She exclaimed. 

“I– I shouldn’t have kissed you. Please, leave.”

Hermione felt as if she would cry again, and her face went red as she felt mortified. She’d read the effects of the potion affected males far more than it did females, making them more susceptible to any mate.

“Was it not good enough for you, Ron?” She accused, tears running down her cheeks. “Perhaps, I should get Lavender seeing as you don’t want me.”

“Are you bloody kidding me?” He retorted back. He walked towards her, closing in on her, trapping her between his strong arms and the door. “I want you too bloody much. Lavender wouldn’t even compare to you, Hermione. Fuck, the moment you told me that I needed to have sex with someone all I could think about was you. I always think about that with you. It’s just…” 

“What?” she asked when he didn’t carry on.

“You deserve more,” he muttered. Hermione stayed silent for a moment as Ron looked down at his feet before she pulled his chin so that he would be looking at her.

“No, I don’t,” she responded. “I deserve you. I want you.”

“Fuck, Hermione.”

His breath hit her face so closely she didn’t know if she was breathing properly. A moment later she had pulled his head towards hers, Ron seemed to protest for about two second before he succumbed to Hermione. He grabbed her everywhere touching too much and too little at the same time, his large hands fitted against her breasts, she had always considered them small, but she realized that in Ron’s hands they were perfect. 

Ron ripped the buttons of her cardigan as his hands began touching the skin of her waist. His mouth began traveling down her chin, reaching her neck where he licked the sweat off it like a starving man that yearned for a drink.

Picking her up and taking her to his bed, he shut the curtains surrounding them letting her all to himself under the moonlight. He undressed her with far more delicacy than he had before. His body had lost the war, but his mind could still fight to give her what she deserved. She was naked now, her face red as she stared up at him. His mouth descended onto her breasts where he sucked on them with adoration, when his mouth worked on one, his hand worked on the other and vice versa.

When he was finished with her he could hear her pleading for him to begin, but he wasn’t done. His kisses began to lower until he hit her belly button where he dipped his tongue inside for a moment hearing her sighs and moans like they were the most brilliant piece of music.

Before he knew it he began to use his mouth on her most intimate parts, tasting the nectar that seemed to spew endlessly from her, and for some reason with his instinct also came his competitiveness.

“Bet you, Vicky never kissed you like this,” this prompted Hermione to lift her head from Ron’s pillow. She had been enjoying what he was doing before he mentioned Viktor.

“Ron, what does –Oh Merlin– Viktor have to do with– Ahhhh!” Her own sentence was silenced by Ron’s mouth as she began to earnestly moan.

“Ginny told me that dear old Vicky and you snogged,” he said as he continued to delve into her. “It should’ve been me,” he mumbled, but she understood him completely. “I wanted that to be me, I love you, Hermione. I care about you,” he talked almost as if he were drunk, unable to really think about the words he was saying. His tone of voice was somewhat hurt as he said this. “So tell me, Hermione. Did dear old Vicky do this to you? Did he care more about you than me?” He didn’t let her answer as he continued to lick her until finally he was rewarded with a long scream and a moan from her. 

Even when he had practically left her seeing stars, Hermione noticed that Ron was panting quite a lot. She grabbed his head snogging him as she felt his cloth covered bulge against her naked thigh.

“He kissed me,” she said once they separated. “A peck just like this,” and she kissed him on the corner of the mouth. “We did nothing more. Everything I’ve done with you so far has been worth ten times that kiss, Ron. So please… Stop talking about Vicky and shag me.”

That’s when his mind decided to absolutely abandon him, other than letting him be able to witness and experience what was to come next, all rationality escaped him. He took his clothes off, nearly tearing his Quidditch uniform in two as he did. Now he was as naked as her, his manhood erect, throbbing and an angry red that intimidated Hermione. His fingers snapping and summoning his wand wordlessly. He pointed his wand right at Hermione’s stomach and it glowed a soft pink. He had casted the Contraception Charm.

“That was amazing, Ron,” she exclaimed as she watched him perform both wordless and wandless magic. “You just did wandless… and wordless…” her words became quieter as she watched the expression on Ron’s face. He looked as in pain as well as aroused as any human could possibly ever be.

He grabbed himself, holding onto Hermione with a subconscious care that she didn’t know he was capable of showing. He was surprising her more and more by the second. He directed his erection right to her opening and as he slowly made his way in he tore through her virginity with a silent affection, until he was fully in and filling all of her.

Hermione had never felt so full in her life. Ron had bent his head, hiding his face from her in her neck sniffing her scent and tasting her sweat as she got comfortable enough with him. She tapped his back and he knew she was ready, slowly he began to move his hips, sawing in and out of her the pleasure unlike anything else. 

Their minds had become absolute putty. Ron only being able to say “I love you”s over and over again as Hermione did the same whispering sweet nothings to Hermione’s ear. It took only a few more thrusts and then he was finishing inside her. The disturbingly painful headache going away the instant he had done so.

Now with his mind clear, he lifted his head and looked at Hermione. She looked scared and somehow his body acted on its own again and this time he was happy it did. As his head lowered down to hers and their lips meshed in a combination of pink and pink. Chocolate and butterbeer, Quidditch and parchment paper, Ron and Hermione.

[obsessive-ego]

Late night chats

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Beej chats with you when he knows you're not listening

Fluff, pining

It was a long rough week, you were absolutely exhausted, you could barely stand, your knees wobbled as you finally arrived home, everyday this week has been hell between work using you to cover everyone and do everything, and personal family drama you had to attend too, you were glad to finally be home, safe, quiet, where nothing was expected of you, you could finally recharge.

Kicking your shoes off and tossing your bag and jacket aside to deal with later.

As you shamble to your bedroom, eager to swap your work clothes to something less constricting, you tap away on your phone, ordering dinner, you were too tired to cook anyway.

In your bedroom, you were quick to ditch your uniform in replacement for an over sized shirt and a pair of pajama pants.

Removing your bra felt like a weight has been lifted, as you slip on your pajamas you felt 100 pounds lighter, you flop down on your bed, barely clinging to being awake, as you were about to doze off, your phone blares to life with its loud ringtone, you groan in frustration, you force your body to get up and dig for your phone in your pants pocket, you miss the call by a second, before you could check who it was it buzzes again, you nearly drop the phone, startled, you fumble with the gadget, quickly answering the call, assuming it was your incompetent coworkers needing a question asked.

"What are you wearing?~"

You frown, knowing that voice anywhere

"Beetlejuice-"

"Oh baby, you will be wearing me by the time I'm done with you~" he moans

You scowl at this joke, too tired to really deal with his sense of humor, yes the ghoul could easily make you laugh with their lewd jokes, but honestly you were so tired nothing else really mattered.

"What-"

"So we gonna hook up? Or are you standing me up?"

"What?"

"Y/n what day is it?"

You're silent for longer then youd like to admit, beetlejuice starts before you could respond

"Friday, movie night, so, let's hear that magic b word sweetheart~" he chimes in a sing song tone.

As tired as you were, I guess a chill movie night would be fine, if you doze off during you could survive the teasing, wouldnt be the first time.

"Hello? Sugar? I'm not hearing my name come from that pretty little mouth of yours~"

You snap back, guess you zoned out longer then you thought, you utter a quick sorry, and shuffle to the living room.

"Beetlejuice, beetlejuice, beetlejuice"

Your apartment goes dark, you sigh, the ghoul had a thing for making an entrance

"HONEY IM HOME" the ghoul shouts, within seconds you are hoisted up from behind in a tight bear hug, Beetlejuice's head resting on you shoulder "babes I missed ya, you're such a mean little thing forgetting about our movie night, or were you just playing hard to get~" he purrs that last part.

Clearly embarrassed you try your best to squirm out of your predicament, the demon only cackles at your actions

"Keep wiggling like that sugar and your gonna give me a-"

The ghoul was interrupted by a knocking at your door, his eyes light up, before you could get a word in, you are dragged along to the front door

"Its showtime"

...

It was amazing how you were still able to order take out with all the nonsense beetlejuice did to the delivery guys, but it just goes to show that it's all about money, and let's be honest, nobody is gonna believe them, yeah sure, a zombie looking guy took the pizza and then turned into a pile of snakes.

...

Movie night was the same as always, Beej successfully snuggling up close with an arm around your shoulder, ever since the change of seasons he found you no longer took the lead on getting up close and personal, meaning he had to take initiative, not that he minded, since regardless of the temperature, you didnt mind him cuddling up, which was nice, you were so warm to the touch, he adored it.

Movie night was always a blast with the demon, yes you've seen this horror films 100 times, but watching them with Beej always made them more lively, his enthusiasm was so contagious. But as much fun as the evening together was you were officially out of energy, you tired in vain to keep awake, last movie night you dozed off midway through you delt with merciless teasing for a week, but all your effort was for not as you felt yourself slip into dreamland.

"Alright Doll what's up next in our-" the demon finally noticed you were out, he frowns, yeah it was cute, and sexy when you fell asleep on him, but it was really becoming kind of a pain on how hard you worked and how much it drained you, breathers are delicate, and besides he wanted to spend some real legit alone time with you.

The demon snaps his fingers and the two of you reappear in your bedroom, you being tucked into your bed, beej floats up beside you in a lounging position.

The ghoul stares at you, watching you naturally settle into a deep sleep, once a few moments have past and beetlejuice was sure you were out cold, he leans back placing his hands behind his head and let's out a deep sigh.

"Ya know doll, the other week I was in the netherworld for business, bumped into an old pal, buddy was going on and on about this demon he was banging, and boy, the look on his face when I told him I was banging a hot little breather, man, fucker was jealous, I mean we arent technically banging, yet." He whispered

This was a habit of Bj's chatting to you when you were asleep, he didnt need to sleep, so this was a nice way to pass the time.

"I showed him that photo of us lyds took, ya know the one, you were sitting on the couch playing with you phone and I had my head on your lap? Yeah, I keep it in my wallet, hell, it's the only thing in there" he snickers

You mumble something unintelligible, Beej hums in response

"Of course not sugar, I dont keep condoms in there, i prefer to go raw, demons cant get breathers pregnant anyways, wink wink"

The ghoul sighs reclining back and putting his hands behind his head

"Ya know, while I was down there, I had to file some paperwork with my Mom, the bitch she is, was going on and on about how I need to stop screwing around with breathers, she just doesnt get me, you know how it is"

You grumble in response

"Oh, yeah I know I told ya a sandworm ate her, shes back, it's a long story" he huffs with a scowl.

"Yeah she was saying how theres no point of me tricking another breather for a green card to live again, and I should leave you alone, fuck her, ya know, I dont need to trick ya for a green card, i know you're head over heels for me babes, and once you finally admit you love me and we fuck around for a bit, then I'll pop the question." He trails off looking in your direction, your were laying on your side facing the demon, as if you were awake listening to his every word, the demon sighs, staring at you sleeping form, god slash satan  he had no idea what he did to deserve you, his sweet caring breather. He could always come back to you, you were all his, you just didnt know it yet, and that was fine, for now, soon he'll get you to confess your undying love.

"What would I do without our little chats" he sighs, his eyes fixated on you, a purple hue begins to creep into his hair, he sighs again

"The only time I can be honest with ya huh babes?"

You mumble in response

"Its not like I dont WANT to be honest with ya, its just, come on, you gonna believe me? A demon from hell falling head over heels for a sweet little breather? I can barely believe it" he stares at you, his hair now completely purple.

"You know I love ya right?" The confidence in his voice fading, the question sounding more desperate then anything, as if the ghoul needed you to know or hed die again.

"...beee" you sigh

Beetlejuice perks up at the sound of your voice "bee?" Were you dreaming of him? The ghoul could just melt at the thought

"...beetlejuice"

You were

The purple in the demon's hair began to mix with hints of pink, his little breather was dreaming of him, the ghoul leans into you, his face inches from yours, studying your face in hopes to crack the mystery of what kind of dream you were having

"...beetlejuice" Again you mumble his name in your sleep

"Do you dream about me often babes? Ya know I dream of you~" he chuckles

"Beetle-"

Before you could finish the b word the demon shakes you awake

"Fuck" you say with a start "beetlejuice what are you doing" you grumble less then thrilled to be woken like this

"You were about to say the b word 3 times babes, had to put a stop to it" he chuckles sheepishly "you were babbling my name away in your sleep, guess you missed me huh?" His nervousness turned into a more confident jab

"I was? I-" you babble

"If you REALLY miss me baby cakes I could slip into bed with ya? Keep ya company" he leans in inches from your face, a moment passes and beetlejuice can see the hesitation in your face, yes he's snuck into bed with you multiple times, but he always left before you noticed.

"I wont do anything creepy" he begs grasping your hand as if to reassure you

"....okay" you whisper

The ghoul's eyes light up at your response in a flash he sheds his suit, leaving only a pair of boxers and slides under the covers next to you, the ghoul is over come by the warmth beneath the covers, and quickly latches on to your even warmer body.

"Good night Bee" you sigh "I'll try not to say your name 3 times"

"Night sugar♡" he cuddles into your chest making you the bigger spoon, though you were the smaller out of the two of you.

As you drift back into a deep sleep beetlejuice begins talking to you again

"You really know how to spoil a guy huh sugar, I guess I can wait a little longer till you say the 3 little words, as long as ya keep treating me like this♡ good night y/n, I love you"

[yandere-sins]

Hello friend!❤️ I absolutely adore your Miya Twins works. Every time you post something for one of them or both of them I’m so elated and excited to read what you’ve come up with! If your requests are open (your bio says they are) I was wondering if you could write something where the reader almost successfully escapes or calls for help? What are the twins reactions? What would they do? I love how you write their dynamic and would love to see this idea explored! If you don’t want to write for both of them, maybe Atsumu’s perspective? Personally he is my favorite twin! I hope you are well thank you❤️

Hey friendo! ♥ We actually talked about escaping them before, so this might be interesting for you! Thanks for requesting, I hope this is close to what you wanted! I needed a reason to just make it ‘almost’ ^^’

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Keep it down, 'Tsumu."

His brother's warning only frustrated Atsumu more, but he grit his teeth in response, the last remnants of his voice fading through the hallway of the apartment complex. Maybe he had been a little loud as he tried to voice his anger, frustration, and fear, but how else was he supposed to come to terms with this situation? Not only had their darling found a way to crack the lock on the front door open, no, they also successfully slipped out of his grasp and outran him in the moment of surprise - HIM, a professional athlete.

It was almost too bad that they missed a step on the second to last staircase, making them fall right into the opposing wall. The twins' screams as they heard the maddening crack when their head hit the cement must have echoed throughout the whole house. Luckily, the twins weren't the only shady people renting an apartment here, and most were empty anyway. No one came to see what the ruckus was all about.

Their darling was anything but weightless as they were slumped against his back, Atsumu giving them a piggyback ride back to their home. Luckily, his muscles were good enough to easily carry them around, but taking three staircases with an extra person on his back wasn't the most comfortable task even for him.

"It's your responsibility. You let them get away," had been Osamu's reasoning as to why they wouldn't alternate carrying them. "Asshole," Atsumu grumbled, Osamu giving him a glare back over his shoulder. He knew just as well that Atsumu wasn't lashing out at him, both of them going through the same state of shock and frustration. But now, with the blood of their darling's head wound dripping onto Atsumu's shirt, they also had their hands full with worrying.

"Stop making a scene. It could be worse," Osamu reminded him, but despite the harsh words, Atsumu felt the same kind of relief. At least they didn't make it out. But at what price?

"Ya think they'll recover from that?" Atsumu asked quietly as Osamu opened the door for him, both of them frowning at the busted door lock. It was crazy to think that their sweet, docile darling was able to do such a thing. However, when their darling realized that their plan failed to pick the lock, they must have panicked so much they ended up opening it this way. "From their failed escape? Probably. That wound is a different thing."

Both of them were tense as Osamu spoke out what they wished didn't have to be voiced. They were no doctors. They could patch up a cut or put ointment on a bruise, but if anything was wrong inside of their brain, they'd be screwed. Bringing them to a hospital was out of the question. Less their darling might be taken away from them. Atsumu didn't even want to start thinking about all the people that would be all over his sweetheart, touching and caring for them while he couldn't. A stupid moment to get jealous, but who could blame him?

"Put them down in their room; it's the safest spot at the moment. Close the door just in case," Osamu instructed, opening the door for Atsumu before disappearing into his own bedroom. "Bring tissues!" Atsumu called after him as he carried their darling inside, trying to slide them off his back as gently as possible and laying them on their bed. His t-shirt was already ruined as he pulled it off, gently dabbing the fabric against the wound on their forehead, waiting for his brother to bring some bandages and ointment. "Shit," he mumbled, biting his own lip in frustration.

The person he was most frustrated with was himself. Yes, he knew about what kind of power balance reigned in their house. Yes, he knew that not all he did to his darling was in their best interest. But he didn't want it to end... like this. That's not what he wanted. Pressing the shirt to their wound, he lifted their hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips. They had done something bad. Something really, really bad. But at the same time, they were so vulnerable, so dependant, and they didn't even know it. They shouldn’t have run from them, it was their darling’s fault in the first place. But how could he be mad at them when they were in this heartbreaking state? Punishment was nothing he could even think about in that moment. What if they didn’t wake up again? Even with the blood dripping from their face, they were the most wonderful person he knew, and Atsumu feared to have told them that less than he should have when he had the chance.

"Move." Giving him an ungentle kick in the waist, Osamu made Atsumu free up the space directly next to their darling's head. He wished he could have his brother's place, but Osamu was just a bit better when it came to fixing stuff. So maybe, he could fix this too?

Pushing away Atsumu and his shirt, Osamu leaned over their darling, checking again if they were still breathing before taking a closer look at the wound. "Ya know how to do stitches?" Osamu mumbled as he looked at it from every side possible. "Are you crazy?" Atsumu hissed back. "Neither of us can do that!"

"And your better idea is...?"

Fuck. His stomach twisted and churned as Atsumu thought about this.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You do it," Atsumu spoke monotonously. Trying to hide his fear and the shaking hands in his lap.

"Your hands are more steady," Osamu hissed back at him, not noticing that they currently were out of control, only trusting logic in this situation.

"Are you kidding?" Atsumu barked, ready to hit his brother if not for both of Osamu's hands being around their darling's face to steady it.

"One of us has to, and it ain't me! I just cook! You have finger coordination!"

"But..." Atsumu's voice cracked, his eyes falling onto their darling's almost peaceful face if not for the bloody mess at the side of their forehead. Osamu sighed. He pulled his hands away, fingers covered in red smears as he brushed back his hair. "They're bleeding, 'Tsumu," he whispered, and Atsumu heard the same damn fear in his brother's voice that he was fighting with. The struggle, the uncertainty. Fear of losing their darling and guilt of letting it come so far. Osamu had been farther away from their darling than Atsumu, but he was blaming himself just as much. "What do we do?" Osamu's voice was strained with the burden of a person's life on his shoulders as well.

That's right. Atsumu wasn't the only one hurting.

"Then the hospital--" Osamu sighed, catching his composure as quickly as possible, or he might have started to cry. Instead, he pulled out his phone. He hesitated before his lock screen flashed up, ready to call the emergency hotline. By now, time was of the essence.

"No," Atsumu decided right as his eyes caught the light coming from the display. "I'll do it," he stated, determined with an unknown strength.

"I will," he emphasized again, this time, trying to hide the slight shake of uncertainty in his voice. All their work, all this time they put into keeping their darling with them - it couldn't be in vain. Their love was not so shallow. "But..." Osamu mumbled, unsure if this was the right decision.

"I'm the older twin. Trust me."

"Debatable..." Osamu mumbled, glancing back at their hurting darling. "But I trust you."

It all felt unreal. Their first aid kit wasn't just a normal, store-bought one as Atsumu always thought. Somehow, Osamu seemed to have predicted there could have been worse wounds to befall them, owning everything they could need. Chaos reigned in Atsumu's head as he watched one video after another of how to stitch wounds on Osamu's phone while washing his hands maniacally as if to wash off the sins crawling over his skin. The time was pressuring him. There was so much to note, he was barely able to remember the first step once he was done watching it. Avoiding blood poisoning seemed to be the slightest problem when he couldn't even remember how to close a stitch.

Both of them suited up for the occasion, Osamu silently bringing a new shirt into the bath before washing his hands next to his brother. "We said we'd do it together when we brought them here," he reminded Atsumu as he helped him into the gloves. "You're not alone in this."

"I know," Atsumu sighed. "We always did it together, but I have to do this alone. For them. For us."

"I'm always right behind you," Osamu encouraged Atsumu as they stepped up to their darling. A moment of silent prayers passed as they looked down at the biggest mistake of their life. Their darling.

"Let's get it over with," Atsumu mumbled. There was something in his brother's eyes that Osamu had never seen before. He could only recognize it as a point of no return. A breaking point. And yet, Osamu handed the needle to his brother, who immediately pointed it to where he wanted it to go. However, before he could stick it in, he hesitated, his will faltering instantly. What if he'd mess it up? What if he couldn't do it? They'd die. Either way, they'd die.

"On three," Osamu caught his brother, who was falling into despair. Atsumu had to do it. There was no turning back, they had long ignored the right things, and now they were too deep in to go back. He'd prove his love once and for all. Atsumu breathed in.

"Deep breath. One. Two..."

Atsumu breathed out.

"Three."

[chifuyuzu]

leap of faith — sano manjiro x reader.

word count — 1.3k.

genre — fluff fluff fluff, i love sweet mikey.

contains — cursing, timeskip SPOILERS present, reader is gender neutral.

description — sano manjiro is in love with you, and he realizes how much he loves you at the ass crack of fuckin' dawn.

author's note — hey besties, this is my first published fic here, kinda short but mikey brain rot is heavy. i hope you enjoy this cute fic before i rip your hearts out with some angst in a few days :^) reblogs and likes are always appreciated! and please give me feedback in my inbox! hehe, enjoy.

“it’s late.”

you know. but you still wanted to hear the sound of his voice before bed.

“mm… i missed ya’, is that a crime?” your voice echos through the receiver, the sound of your duvet crinkling in the background as you shift in place. sano manjiro was a busy man. always has been, always will be. being the leader of a biker gang was never easy—let alone some “new age” criminal organization.

you didn’t understand why manjiro persisted to play this game of russian roulette with his life. but it was never your place to overstep, especially since this was his life. it was all he knew, all he understood. you’re not sure what he’s doing, or if he’s even allowed to talk on the phone at this hour, but you still wanted to hear him. just so you know he’s alive and well.

you hear him chuckle, the sound of his feet scurrying against whatever floor his sandals were clacking against. the background noise that accompanied him earlier has dissipated; you realized he probably went outside to hear you better.

“your crime is loving a fool like me way too much. don’t think you’re sane.” he’s right. you’re actually crazy for even pursuing him. there was a lot of push and shove in the beginning, both parties scared of being hurt and getting hurt. but you were always there, even when manjiro went through whatever darkness was eating at his soul.

“crazy for you.”

“corny.”

“you love me.”

a pause. eerie enough to send shivers down your spine. why wasn’t he responding? did something happen? did you smother him too much? is he regretting—

“marry me.”

… not what you were expecting. especially not over the phone.

“sano manjiro, did you just propose over the phone? what kind of shitty rom-com are we in?”

“is that a no?”

“... never said that.” you wanted to marry him. but you wanted him to put that lifestyle behind, for the sake of the family you might have in the future. kids, dogs, cats, etcetera. you wanted him to be in, one hundred percent. but you knew he was too deep into this world to run now—especially since he’s so well-known as the ‘invincible mikey.’ you still longed for a happy home with manjiro, and a normal life.

“maybe you’re right. it’s not my style to ask you this over the phone.”

“try again later. when you’re really ready.”

the gag is, he is ready.

manjiro hurries home, blond locks hidden underneath a thin, black hoodie. he’s shaking, like a pomeranian in the presence of fireworks. his hand meets the left side of his chest, back pressed up against the grey colored wall of your shared apartment as he slides down to sit on the floor. it was four in the morning, and manjiro was about to shit himself.

he gulps, eyes peering around for you, double checking that you were fast asleep before he makes a phone call. his fingers tapped the back of his iphone, impatiently waiting for the other caller to answer. though it was the crack of dawn, he still needed some moral support.

“mikey? fuck you callin’ for at this hour? haven’t heard from you in mo—”

“ken-chin. i’m proposing.”

a loud ‘flop’ rang through the receiver, accompanied by the bedsheets seemingly slipping underneath draken’s feet. it was a huge bomb to drop, especially when the duo has been separated for months on end. manjiro hears more shuffling, followed by a few curses. “you’re fucking lying. the one you’ve been one since—?”

“yeah. i’m crazy as hell. but i love them. head over heels. i’m a goddamn simp.”

“why the hell am i the first to know, man?”

“you’re m’best friend, even if i need to stay away from you. and, also… you’re not the first to know. i asked them already.”

“you WHAT? don’t fuckin’ tell me you did it some dumb way like over the pho— you did. you’re impulsive enough to do it like that, too.” regardless of how long it’s been, draken still knows and understands manjiro like nothing ever happened.

“yeah… not romantic. but i can’t see myself with anyone else. i trust no one else. but i… am…”

“scared? man, you’re the head of a criminal organization. ‘course you’re scared. you don’t want the love of your life… to get hurt…” his voice trails off and manjiro’s heart tenses even more. the memories of the past still felt fresh. all the people they lost in tokyo manji… could never be replaced. not in a million years.

but the living must live.

“i love y/n. never felt like this before. i’d quit everything. but i would have to make sure they’re safe and whatever future we have together is secure. i know i promised takemichi that i’d protect everyone and that future he worked so hard to save… but what about mine?”

manjiro really did sacrifice everything for his friends. being the type of person who carries everyone else’s burdens takes a toll on his mental. he felt selfish for wanting to leave it all behind. but maybe being selfish was beneficial once in a while.

“listen—”

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“mikey. you’re not stupid,” draken sighs, shuffling again in place. “you just want to love someone and be loved in return. nothin’ stupid about that. what is stupid though, is you proposing over the damn phone.”

he’s not wrong. it was a spur of the moment decision that could drastically change his life forever. but with you, he doesn’t care. as long as you’re his, forever.

“how do you think i should do it?”

“well. i guess, tell me some sappy shit. how do you feel about them, and whatnot.”

“i don’t think i could ever imagine me with anyone else. a lot of people have tried to grab my attention but i only have eyes for y/n. sometimes when shit gets real hard…” manjiro takes a deep sigh, fingers threading through his hair, tilting back the hood to let it fall onto his back. “i think of y/n and i remember that even in this shit world, someone is here for me. someone cares about me. they make me feel like i’m not alone anymore.

i have dreams ‘bout us, y’know? me and y/n… kids running around. a little mikey clone. pissin’ them off because we want little flags on our meals. going to the park and letting kids be kids. maybe i’ll teach ‘em at a dojo like gramps did for me and my siblings. maybe i’ll teach ‘em about bikes—with your help, of course.”

draken laughs, letting his friend continue his little speech as he gets comfortable in bed again. don’t think i’ve ever seen mikey like this, ever, draken muses.

“man, we can own a whole zoo if we wanted. chifuyu could hook us up, in secret, of course. still have to protect everyone,” manjiro is grinning from ear to ear, head resting against the wall. “i wanna grow old with them. honestly, i didn’t think i’d make it to my twenties. more so, i didn’t want to live past twenty-something. but now… things are different. wanna be old and gray. see grandkids terrorize our children. die together.”

the tension in manjiro’s chest has faded away, only left with warmth that only you could bring him. his free hand reaches into his pocket to fumble with a small box, snapping it open to reveal the engagement ring his grandfather handed down to him.

he wasn’t the marrying type. but for you, he was.

“that all? you sound good like that, man. make an exception and let us come to the wedding.”

manjiro wants that more than anything. his friends, you... all safe. all happy. but again, the fear creeps up. he doesn’t know what to do with himself if any of you get hurt.

“... how do i tell y/n that?”

“you already have.” your voice makes him jump, knocking the velvet box out of his fingers and onto the hardwood floor. his face pales, followed by a huge lump forming at his throat when he sees your figure emerge from your shared bedroom.

“i-uh… i thought you were a-asleep.” manjiro mumbles, earning a huge laugh from draken on the other side. he hears him say something along the lines of ‘my cue to leave. good luck. send me an invite.’

“i was waiting for you.” 

he’s sweating now, a small bead forming at the base of his neck. his phone is now at his side, the screen flashing from draken’s caller id to the lockscreen photo of you on your first date together, a few years back. your eyes zone into the box, though.

“i was going to do this… better. god, i fucked up, huh?”

you’re laughing now, rubbing your tired eyes before you join him near the wall, picking up the box. “what makes you think that, dummy?”

now he’s confused. you wanted him to ask when he was serious, but in his head, serious meant rose petals, candles, someone singing celine dion in the distance.

without a word, you slip the ring onto its appropriate finger, holding up to the small rays of sunlight that peaked through the window from the approaching sunrise. manjiro’s hands fly up to your face, holding his whole world in his hands. his eyes are shiny, on the brink of tears. you nudge your noses together, foreheads connecting tenderly. your hands hooked onto the hem of his hoodie, bringing his frame closer as you whisper a soft ‘yes.’

“yes?”

“yes, i’ll marry you.”

manjiro’s lips curl up into the silliest grin you’ve ever seen him sport, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. now he’s kissing you quite desperately. as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real, that this isn’t a dream. you feel his words vibrate against your lips, “gonna make you so happy, i promise. i love you. i love you so, so much.”

“forevermore.”

“forever yours.”

[saeyoungchoismaid]

The brothers’ reaction to MC wearing an occult symbol

Genre: angst?, fluff Warnings: Belphie’s has earlier lesson spoilers. Y’all know the one  A/N: Writing Satan’s reminds me that I want to write hcs or fics where the whole demon thing is more realistic. Ya know like they kill people and that sort of thing but n e ways-

Lucifer:

it only took him a second to get a weird vibe from you 

well, not actually you but an energy coming from you 

once he gets close enough to you, he starts to feel his skin crawl

he looks over your being before spotting a hidden chain disappearing into your shirt

“May I?” he asks, bringing his hand close to your neck and pointing at your hidden necklace

you look down in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to 

“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure,” you reply confusedly but agree nonetheless 

he hesitates for only a second before grasping the necklace and pulling it up

he clenches his jaw when the chain starts to burn him, his fingers quickly releasing it once the hidden pendant is on the outside of your shirt

your eyes widen in shock when you see his red fingers pull away from your neck, a frown coming to your face 

“Ah, just as I thought,” he says softly, staring down at your chest

you flush and look down, spotting your necklace for everyone to see 

“I’m not sure if you know this or not but that pendant is actually an occult symbol. It wards off demons and burns them when they touch it. It’s honestly probably a good idea to wear it until everyone gets used to your presence,” he informs before taking a step away from you 

you gently pick it up between your fingers, staring down at it with a frown

“Oh, okay,” you say softly

you didn’t like the thought of hurting anyone but he has a point. They’ve already explained to you that not all demons are friendly with humans, so some might try to attack you 

guess this pendant will be useful during your stay 

(don’t worry. You eventually take it off for Mr. Grumpy Pants)

Mammon:

he always gets uncomfortable being too close to you but not for the reasons you think 

this man is a SIMP, okay?

he wants to be near you 24/7 but physically finds it hard to do so 

it takes him a while to figure out why though 

one day, you wear a low-cut shirt and there lays a necklace around your neck 

of course, this man looks STRAIGHT at your chest because woughnwgwg exposed skin 

but then he notices the necklace 

do you always wear that?

“Heya, (Y/n). Do ya, uh, always wear that necklace?” he asks you after pondering on it for a while 

it would make sense as to why his skin always crawls and why he feels like he always has an itch he just can’t scratch 

you look down at the necklace and smile, picking it up between your delicate fingers

“Huh? Oh, yeah. It came with a Halloween costume I wore last year and I guess I liked it enough to always wear it,” you reply as you look down at it before letting it go 

he grunts and stares at it, trying to make it combust with his eyes alone 

“Do you think you could stop wearing it?” he asks softly

this makes your eyes widen, a small pout gracing your smooth lips 

“What? Why? Do you not like it?” you ask quietly, disappointment filling your tone 

and, of course, Mammon panics 

“What? No! Well, kinda. Not for the reason ya think though! It’s jus that it’s an occult symbol, meaning it’s used to keep demons away,” he sputters out before eventually getting to his point 

at this, your face becomes crestfallen 

“Oh. That’s why you guys always seem so nervous and uncomfortable around me...” you mumble

before he can comfort you, you take it off and move to throw it away 

“I won’t ever wear it again then,” you promise with a warm smile 

Levi: 

he knew something was off about you but he wasn’t sure what it was until the TSL competition 

just like the others, he felt itchy and maybe even a little sick when he got too close to you 

but you were so nice! and pretty! and smart! 

he couldn’t help wanting to get to know you better

when the TSL competition happened though, he ended up being blinded by jealousy and attacked you 

he got close enough to grab you by your shirt 

the thing is, your necklace flew out of your shirt when he tugged you forward and it fell across his hand

he hisses and pulls away from you, looking down at the red lines now adorning his skin 

this calms him down a bit surprisingly

you, on the other hand, were still freaking out 

“I’m sorry! What just happened? Are you okay?” you ask as you gently cradle his injured hand 

he stares at you in confusion before it converts to awe 

he just attacked you and you’re still worried about him 

yeah, he’s in love 

when he doesn’t reply, Lucifer steps in 

“Your necklace caused the burn. It’s an occult symbol, meaning it wards demons away. Guess it worked in your favor just now.”

“I’m sorry,” Levi says quickly after Lucifer is done talking 

he then swears that you won’t need to wear it around him anymore, feeling guilty for attacking you 

Satan:

this smart demon knew what he was feeling right away 

he’s read enough books to know that you probably have some sort of occult symbol on you somewhere 

he doesn’t bring it up though 

he’d rather hangout around you and feel his skin crawl and for his skin to go ice cold than to have you take it off and risk you getting in danger with other demons 

not that he’d let that happen. He’d skin someone alive before letting them close enough to hurt you 

once you two start getting closer though, you notice that if you try to hold his hand or to cuddle into him on the couch while watching a movie, he flinches away from you 

it breaks your heart, really 

which he instantly notices and realizes he has to talk to you about before he loses you 

“Darling, can I see you in my room for a moment?” Satan calls to you as you walk past his room, your heart skipping a beat as the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease

once you enter, he asks that you close his door, which causes you to grow nervous and excited at the same time 

once the door is closed, he starts to explain the whole situation to you 

he can’t even finish his explanation before you’re ripping it off your neck and throwing it away into his trash bin

he chuckles as he stands, meeting you by his desk where you threw the necklace away 

he bends over to take it out of the trash, grunting when the necklace burns him 

before he can hand it back to you, you snatch it out of his hand

“Why would you do that?” you cry in despair, your free hand cradling his injured one 

he smiles at you and squeezes your hand while his free hand comes up to bring your head up 

“Because I still want you to wear it when you go out. It would just be nice to be closer to you without it, my love,” he coos, making you gulp at how close he is to you 

you nod your head though and place it in your pocket, noticing the goosebumps covering his arms 

“I’ll go put it away in my room and then we can cuddle,” you declare

Asmo:

bruh 

he notices it right away because of course he tries getting close to you right away 

he gets a foot away from you and that’s when he feels it 

he pouts as he stops his prowl towards you, trying to shake off the feeling of unease and nervousness

which is definitely a new feeling for him 

he backs away from you and finds that those odd feelings are slowly fading away from his body 

weird 

he doesn’t really understand what it is until much later

he kept his distance but still flirted like a madman

which apparently worked since you liked him 

so, when he decides to ignore the weird feeling and goes to kiss you one day, his hands gently rest on the side of your neck as he kisses you 

well, he didn’t actually get to kiss you seeing as the chain burns his hands and he pulls away with a sharp gasp 

you both stare down at his red hands in silence, trying to process what just happened 

before you can even react, one of his hands come back to your neck and snaps your necklace off of you 

“Asmo!” you screech, going to pull it out of his grip when he throws it across the room

as soon as it’s out of his hand, his hands gently clasp your cheeks before smashing his lips to yours 

after a spicy makeout session, he briefly explains what your necklace was before going back to kissing you 

Beel: 

my poor baby didn’t understand what was going on 🥺

he’d go to give you a hug or offer you some food and found it impossible to be close to you 

it upset him immensely 

my mans likes to show his affection physically AND verbally like a legend 

but he can’t get closer than a foot to you before he starts to feel a different kind of pit in his stomach 

it wasn’t until you came to one of his games that it all became clear what was going on 

he made the final point needed to win the game, all of his teammates knocking against his helmet and lightly shoving him 

when you came over though, they parted like the red sea for you 

you squeezed Beel into a hug and it felt perfect other than the weird feeling that comes over him 

he moves to wrap his arms around your shoulders, his body suddenly jolting away from yours

your eyes widen at him, your heart lurching up in your throat 

did you make him uncomfortable? But it seemed like he was going to hug you back? 

he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the field and away from prying eyes  

you try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy from his hand holding yours 

once you two are alone, he lets you go, which causes the butterflies to instantly die

“(Y/n), do you think you could get rid of your necklace?” he asks nervously 

he’s afraid that he’s being too selfish by asking this of you 

your brows knit together in confusion, looking down at your necklace that you’ve been wearing for a couple of months now 

“What? Why? Do you not like it?” you ask worriedly, bringing your hands up to touch it 

he explains what happens to him when he gets near it, his eyes shining with sadness 

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so? Of course I can take it off,” you say as you go ahead and slip it off and place it in your pocket 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he reassures 

“I want to,” you reassure right back

Belphie:

so yeah, your necklace ended up saving your life 

when Belphie was released and turned out to be deceiving you this whole time, things went downwards really quickly 

when he moved to choke you, your necklace burned his hands

he pulled away in shock, giving his brothers time to jump in and save the day 

once everything was sorted out and he apologized, you two slowly became friends

he resented what he did and that necklace of yours

he’s sure that after what he did, you wouldn’t trust him enough to take off your necklace 

and for a while, it was true 

you would tense up around him, make excuses to leave, etc.

once you two got past that “hey, sorry I tried to kill you” stage though, things started smoothing out

when you two started to like each other though, he hated that necklace even more 

it got to a point where he wanted to cuddle and kiss you so bad but he didn’t have the confidence to ask you to take off the pendant 

luckily for him though, you took it off yourself 

“Where’s your necklace?” he asks curiously when you come up to hug him, his body instantly sensing the difference 

“I wanted to be able to hold you like this without you looking like you wanted to die,” you tease half playfully 

he blushes as he wraps his arms around you 

he never realized how transparent he was until now 

┍━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┑

MASTERLISTS

More with Obey Me!

Tag List: @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, @otome-otakuwu, @fandomsarepainful, @katelynwithpaint​, @buzzybeebee​, @dem0nic-sweetheart​, @officialdevorak​, & @thesoftkittylexy​ ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask. Also, remember to tell me if you ever change your username so I can continue to tag you :)

┕━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┙

[ddarker-dreams]

Out With the Old. Yan Childe x Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Brief mentions of injury and blood, typical yandere undertones. Word count: 3.2k. Notes: i absolutely loved writing this!! i never realized how badly i needed a yandere childe that’s so obviously whipped for his darling. :’))

i.

“Dearest [First],

I can only imagine the look that must be on your face as you read this. Don’t be too harsh on me for saying so, but I promise not a day goes by where I haven’t thought of you. Now stop scowling at the letter, it won’t do any good, after all; it’s just a piece of paper. I’d hate to come back home to see that you’ve aged from all that frowning at parchment.

Somedays I wake and fail to notice I’m in Inazuma instead of Snezhnaya. The scenery has its differences, of course, but it’s only when I realize I can’t see you that it truly sinks in. Writing this, I realize your judgment about my honesty only appearing in written form rather than in person is true. You’ve always had a penchant for keeping me in line, haven’t you?

Not that I can blame you.

You’ll be relieved to hear that the reason for my being here turned out to be a simple misunderstanding. There’s no grand coup d'état waiting to unfold amongst the lower ranks, so, unfortunately for me, it turned out to be a waste of time. On the bright side, that means I’ll get to come back home all the faster.

Tonia tells me that you’re doing well and I’m glad to hear it. I know your parents aren’t that fond of me, which is a smart call all things considered, but I hope they’re both in good health. Let me know if they need any help with their shop and I’ll see what I can do. Just don’t let them know it was from me, or they might blow a gasket.

When I come home, I wonder if I’ll see your face among the crowd on the pier this time.

At the very least… consider not discarding this letter like the others. Really, I can’t tell who is more stubborn, me or you.

-Yours eternally, Tartaglia”

This is the first letter of his that you’ve bothered reading in some time, as he made a point of mentioning. It’s difficult to identify the exact feelings his handwriting and characteristic word choice inflicts upon you, ranging from relief to exasperation. He has some audacity, refusing to see you in person for months on end, only to carry on as if nothing happened between you.

With the letter in hand, your mind wanders back, hoping to find some hints of where it all went wrong.

You remember the words said to you on that late, fateful winter evening. The confident timbre of his voice then still resonates in your head at random, never muffling despite the years that have passed, ringing as clearly as a bell. Does he ever think about it? It’s hard to say.

“One day,” Ajax, or Tartaglia as he claimed his new identity to be, had told you, “I’m going to conquer this world.”

His breath materialized in front of him as white, vaporous wisps. There’s something about that particularly frigid season that felt like magic, more so than the Cryo Vision wrapped snug around your neck. You bit back a scathing remark and instead focused your energy elsewhere. Your gloved hand raised and hovered just above his split lip, a prominent frown etched onto your face at the fresh wound. Likely the first of many to come, you lamented.

Your Vision pulsated with life and light blue shone through at your command. The tender, bruised flesh on his lip began to close, before it faded away altogether. Tartaglia raised his hand to gently touch where it had been, now nothing but a faint memory.

With that out of the way, you placed your hands onto your hips and gave him a stern look. “I wish you’d stop saying things like that. It’s going to get you into trouble one day.”

He laughed and waved off your concern.

“If only. Things have been so dull lately, I wouldn’t mind stirring up a little trouble.” Tartaglia hummed, much to your displeasure. It was no secret in your quaint hometown of Morepesok that this boy had been spiraling down a dangerous path. Your parents said as much and even encouraged you to break off ties with him. This just won’t do, you thought.

“Ouch!”

You flicked his forehead and offered up your most intimidating glare. “So you are capable of feeling pain, huh? Good. If it keeps you out of fights, then I won’t heal you anymore.”

Tartaglia rubbed the spot and smiled sheepishly.

“You say that, but I’m sure you’d change your mind if I came to you all bloodied and battered. You’re just that kind of person.” When he paused to reflect, you raised an eyebrow and challenged him.

“Now what’s this? I’m what kind of person, Ajax?” You pinched his cheek, much to his vocal displeasure, mischief gleaming in your eyes. “Say it loud and clear this time.”

“The kind that always looks out for others, even those who don’t deserve it.”

Your arms fell limp by your side. At that moment, your heart twisted in a way it never had before. It could only compare to how it felt when Ajax had stumbled back home after missing for three, long days. You weren’t sure if you had heard him right — his eyes widened as did yours like he felt equally surprised — and he rushed to save himself. The flush that dusted over his face was most certainly not from the cold weather.

Tartaglia shot up and made way for the door at a record speed. “I told my old man that I’d be home before dark. He already worries about me enough as is, so... I’ll be on my way. See ya around.”

Your rebuttal was slow as your tongue felt frozen. Tartaglia waved to you over his shoulder and took off, leaving you to wallow in your muddled thoughts. What exactly had he meant by that? Why did his gaze soften and his usually boisterous voice drop in volume?

Questions flooded your mind, questions that wouldn’t be answered for years to come.

ii.

You’ve always found this area of Morepesok to be serene. There’s no buzz of the community gathering, chattering about the latest gossip and notable news, no vendors vying for people passing by to purchase their fresh early morning catch. The surroundings are nothing but peaceful, and most importantly, silent. In the summer, there’d only have been the sound of the rushing rivers that are now frozen over and humming insects.

Twigs and dry leaves crunch behind the tree stump you’re hanging out at, signaling an approaching figure.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Tartaglia sits down next to you, blades of grass rustling against him as he did so. You don’t bother to look up, instead feigning interest in your fingernails, staring at them intently. Anywhere other than his face, which most likely than not would be boasting his trademark grin. Seeing the fake expression that he plasters on daily would only add fuel to the fire that rages inside.

Your lips part after an uncomfortable silence settles in, the atmosphere growing tenser by the second. “So you’re a Harbinger now, huh?”

“You don’t look impressed like everyone else,” He notes, his language notably more tentative than usual. It strikes through your heart, piercing flesh and blood, your fingers curling painfully tight. If he notices, he decides not to comment. Tartaglia gives you the time to process your overwhelming thoughts as if it’d make any of this easier on you.

“How could I possibly be happy about that?” You snap your head, catching how he’s momentarily caught off guard before it’s covered up just as fast. “This… this is going to be the death of you, Ajax. And Archons, the worst part is, I know me saying that won’t matter in the slightest. That death would just be the result of a fulfilling fight to you.”

Your breathing grows erratic, to the point you’re forced to stop speaking to regain yourself. He doesn’t dare utter a single word — uncharacteristically silent — watching your every movement with calculating precision. It’s taking all your strength to keep yourself together, not wanting to come undone in front of him, feeling weak just for showing this much. This is why you were hoping to avoid him, but figures he’d go out of to seek you out.

“And if I don’t die? Would that make a difference in how you feel?” He challenges, tilting his head, voice dipping in volume. “You can be honest with me, [First]. It’s not just that you’re upset about. No, there’s something else.”

He knows you too well and it’s beyond frustrating. Your body language might be difficult for others to read, but not Tartaglia, who picks up on every little nuance with ease.

Your lower lip trembles. “I hate that this is what you’ve become.”

“So that’s it then,” Tartaglia nods his head, once, coming to terms with it as soon as the words left your lips; like he already knew it all along. “I figured as much, but to hear you say it… haven’t you heard of mincing your words before?”

Hugging your knees to your chest, you internally plead with yourself not to let the nonchalant words get to you. It’s his way of dealing with strife to act unbothered, you know this, and still, it strikes deep. What if this isn’t a façade, but who he really is now? That boy you knew and grew up with — Ajax, your dearest friend — he may be physically sitting next to you, but his soul is gone. Whatever happened in those hellish three days changed him forever. Now his flesh and bones are nothing but a vessel urged on by bloodlust.

How ironic, you think. That your Vision lets you heal physical wounds, but not the unseen kind, which runs deeper than any gash could hope to. Maybe you were a fool for thinking you could fix him, revert him to how he used to be like nothing ever happened. Or maybe he let you try just to earn more time together for whatever twisted reason. Knowing that once reality settles in, you’ll go someplace far out of his reach, where he can never get you back. Sitting here, you realize that it won’t just be you losing him. He’ll also be losing you.

Is that why he is sticking around? To prolong the inevitable?

“When I look into your eyes,” you clear your tightening throat, not willing to let yourself cry. “There’s… there’s no light, no humanity, and you know it. That has to be why you chase all those stupid fights, all so that you can feel alive again.”

Tartaglia allows you the room to ramble without interruption, your venomous feelings that have long festered gushing out. When you work up the courage to look up, you find Tartaglia frowning, staring far off but at nothing in particular. So even he can sometimes be rendered to a loss for words, huh?

He sucks in a deep breath through his nose, the chilly air invading his lungs. “You’re wrong about one thing.”

Another cautious pause. He’s giving this a lot of thought.

“My fighting is not for the sole sake of the adrenaline rush, as enjoyable as that is,” he scratches the back of his neck and forces a laugh. “It’s so that I can get stronger. I told you, didn’t I? That I intend on conquering the world. To do that, I need to be the strongest, or else I can’t fulfill my promise.”

Your lips part, eyebrows furrowing together in irritation, but he places a finger to your lips before you can tear into him. The leather feels cool against your skin, and it’s just now that you realize how close he is to you. Having been so absorbed in your emotions, you failed to notice his stealthy movements, the two of you now shoulder to shoulder. Your heart thrums, reminiscent of that day ages ago.

“When the entire world lays defeated at my feet, what I want is to have you by my side. Until that dream of mine comes true, I’m afraid I’ll have to continue making you sad, but know that it’s for a reason.”

Tartaglia pulls his hand back, his finger lingering just a second over your bottom lip, finally allowing you to speak your piece.

You’re drawn like a moth to a flame to his lifeless eyes, which have seen more bloodshed in the past few months than you could ever fathom. Murmuring, you find it within yourself to respond, albeit so quietly he has to cant forward to hear. “If you accomplish just that… who’s to say I’d want to be by your side? The side of a killer?”

“Hm? Did I ever say you had a choice in the matter?” Tartaglia returns your inquiry with a bold one of his own, one that sends you recoiling in astonishment. He lets the words settle like fresh snow on the ground before laughing them off. You cross your arms over your chest, making your displeasure over his comment evident.

“Please, I’m kidding! Don’t look at me like that,” he puts his hands up in mock defense. “Ah, it’s suddenly feeling colder than usual. You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you? I never thought that humble [First], the child of the town’s apothecary at that, would be so bold as to freeze me to death.”

Your nose wrinkles up and you hold back a laugh, swatting at his shoulder. “Yeah, right. Like I could ever stand a chance against you in battle.”

“You might be surprised! I could make a warrior out of you yet. Think about it, Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa saw fit to bestow a Vision upon you, didn’t she?” He accents his words by pointing to your neck, where you prefer to keep your Vision. Subconsciously, your hand raises, delicately touching the icy gem.

“I’m not like you,” you shake your head at his jest. “Hurting others is the last thing I’d ever want to do, trust me.”

He hums, your words taking him back, memories flashing in his mind. “I know, that’s why I’ve always done it in your stead.”

“Whoever would’ve thought fending off bored kids with a wooden sword would escalate into you climbing the ranks of the Fatui.” Had it not been for the final part of the sentence, you would’ve found it endearing to reminiscence back to your early childhood together. Still, the frost around your heart melts at the sweet memory, despite your attempts to keep it hardened. This goes to show how much I cherished it, you muse.

Lips curling into a smile, you take him by surprise and lay your head onto his shoulder. His muscles go tense, body unresponsive to the affection you used to bestow upon him in heaps. It’d been so long that he forgot the warmth you radiate like you were the sun incarnate. He had once commented that he expected a Cryo user to be cold, only to be delightfully surprised by how warm you were.

“Maybe I was always terrible, and you just didn’t notice?” He proposes, to which you snort.

“That most certainly is not the case. I’m a better judge of character than that.” You scoff at the mere idea. No, little Ajax had been nothing but a darling, there’s no doubting it. Wherever you’d go, he’d follow as if his life depended on it. There was hardly ever a time where the two of you wouldn’t be seen paired together.

“You’ll get no argument out of me there,” Tartaglia rests his head on top of yours like he used to. The circumstances have undoubtedly changed, but it’s nice to feign ignorance for a few minutes. “Say, you remember when we used to sneak off and meet here, right?”

“How could I forget?”

Tartaglia nods his head in agreement. “I was always dragging you into trouble, even then. I’m not one to dwell on the past, but I guess it’s hard not to when we’re here.”

Now that he mentions it, it wasn’t an immediate shift into his now unhinged personality; like all things, it began as a gradual descent. You should’ve noticed something was awry with how frequently he’d come to you, boasting injuries of all sorts. Each was accompanied by a rehearsed explanation as not to alarm you. Unfortunately for him, in a small town such as this, word travels quickly. It was inevitable that you’d find out the bitter truth behind his wounds.

Maybe you always knew but didn’t want to face reality.

“There was this one time in particular that always stuck out to me,” he closes his eyes, reflecting. “When I said I intended to marry you when we got older, or whenever you’d have me.”

You’re amazed at how Tartaglia recounts it without so much as stuttering, the humiliating memory sending your head spinning. There were so many memories he could’ve mentioned and that’s the one he decides to go with? You’re certain he’s messing with you at this point.

“I-I thought we swore never to mention that again!” You exclaim, blood rushing to your cheeks.

He blinks when you abruptly lift your head and shrugs off your concern. “I don’t remember ever agreeing to that. It was you who kept insisting to take a vow of silence on it, for whatever reason. Personally, I find it cute, you were so eager to accept my proposal then.” 

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This irksome teasing quality had reared its head alongside his other new shortcomings. The best way to deal with it, you’ve learned, is to keep the conversation going. Dwelling on it for too long never ends well.

“So, Liyue, huh?” You recall the gossip from the marketplace earlier. Some locals were fussing over the news that the Fatui’s latest Harbinger, Tartaglia, would be sent abroad for more work. There were murmurs of excitement over how a child from this seaside town managed to make it so far up the ranks. And to think they used to bemoan Ajax’s violent streak, you remember. Now that it’s beneficial to them, they sure have changed their tune.

“I wonder what it’ll be like,” he muses. “Anthon seems to think the people there eat rocks, for whatever reason.”

“Kids always say the craziest things unprompted.”

He seems agreeable to that statement. Neither of you utters another word for some time, instead thinking of both the past and the future. It’s not a comfortable position to remain seated in, yet neither you nor he complains about it. For a few brief, glorious seconds, everything almost seems normal again.

“Hey, [First].”

You hum in response. Tartaglia’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, his eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. In the silence that follows, you swear you hear a sound akin to electricity crackling, the hairs on the back of your neck standing from the drastic shift in atmosphere.

“I meant what I said. Someday, you will be by my side. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll make it happen; even if you come to hate me.”

“Because once you make a promise… you keep it.”

And he intended to do just that.

[kilibaggins]

Knight In Shining Armor

Request: Can you do murphy/reader set after the hanging? You can decide if he gets banished or not but hurt/comfort please? Maybe they run away together or reader yells at Bellamy or something? (I know you said to wait but we all know I have no self control at this point, oops. Love ya, good luck!) ~ @ultimatereyesstan

A/N: AH! Thank you for this request! I had so much fun with it! I love comfort fics!

Setting: post-hanging.

Warnings: Hanging, Blood, Wounds, uh... Please tell me if anything else?

Word Count: 1,910

~~~

Murphy was scared. You know this, while everyone thinks he's angry and violent and that's all there is to him, you know that's wrong. You know that the anger, the hate, the everything is a facade. A mask he slips on every morning because he feels that if he shows the real him, he'll get hurt.

You know it's fake, you've seen him in his soft moments. You saw him take care of his mother at late hours of the night when she couldn't take care of herself. You saw him sobbing after his mothers death, no matter how much before then he said he wouldn't care if she died. You've seen him in the late hours of the night when he would cry about how horrible the Ark was, and how bad he felt for the people who suffered at the hands of the chancellor and his goons.

So, you know that when he gets up after being hung, this is yet another facade. A disguise to hide his pain and hide his fear. You walk up to him as he yells at Bellamy, his body tight with anger. You put your hand on his arm and softly pull at it, gaining his attention.

"Don't do this. Don't do something you'll regret." You say, and Murphy looks at you for a minute, seeming to think listen. "How does this end Murphy? What? You think you can go and get revenge and it'll turn out alright? How did you getting revenge last time turn out? With you in a locked cell. And now what happens when there's no cells." You continue and you see him thinking.

"Y/N I-" Murphy says and you can see his anger fading already.

"No. You need to stop. You think this is going to do anything other than hurt you more? I know you've got to be in pain, probably a nasty headache." You say, and you see hsi breathing become more shallow. He nods softly and you sigh. "Bellamy, go take Charlotte somewhere, she killed someone, she can;t just get away with it."

"What makes you think you can tell me what to do?" He demands, and you step up to him.

"Because I actually have a brain. Unlike you who just hung an innocent boy because you didn't think." You say, and step back again, grabbing Murphy's hand, and throwing his arm around your shoulders, helping him to the dropship. You help him to the hammock, and by now his energy is gone, all of the adrenaline that was coursing through him has dropped. He looks up at you with pain on his face and you frown.

“No, there’s no room here.” He mumbles, his words barely making it out. You look at him puzzled, and when he moves to get up and you softly push him back down.

“John, what’s going on? No room for what?” You ask. He frowns harder, and you suppress a smile and how adorable he looks. He always tries to look intimidating, but to you he has always been adorable. Someone who could never hurt you.

“You.” He whimpers, closing his eyes, probably from his headache. You smile softly and move his hair from his face.

“Okay, then do you want me to move you to the floor? On the blankets?” You ask and he nods softly, making sure not to hurt his head more. His head must be pounding, you used to help Abby in the med-bay before getting in trouble, there you learned a lot of stuff about medical things, especially injuries. Hanging, which cuts off the blood flow, usually causes intense headaches if the person doesn’t die from it. You know it most hurt right now, that plus the pain on other parts of his body, would be overwhelming. You softly grab his arm again, and help him to sit up.

“Ow.” He whimpers and you wince. “Hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” You say, helping him off of the hammock. You help him over to a pile of blankets on the ground. “Alright, I’m going to help you down now, okay?” You ask, not really expecting an answer. You softly help him down and once he’s laying down, you see his muscles relax. You kneel down next to him, and gingerly cup his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you.

“It’s darker down here.” He says, and you nod. “It’s better. Doesn’t hurt.” He says. You smile and softly move his hair out of his face.

“I’m glad.” You say, your fingers running through his hair. “I’m going to get the bucket of water and cloth from over there, and bring it over to wash you up, okay?” You ask and he nods this time. You walk away to grab the bucket and he tries to watch you but he can’t move much. You grab the bucket and walk back.

“First, your amazing face.” You state, bringing the wet cloth up and washing his face. He smiles softly, before letting his eyes close and letting you do what you need to do. He trusts you with his life, and he will continue to trust you for a long time. He shakily brings his hand forward to rest it on your knee so he can feel you here with him. “You know, as much as revenge sounds fun, I’m happy I could stop you.” You say, now cleaning a wound. He mumbles something and you pull back enough to listen.

“Y- you didn’t do shit.” He pauses to chuckle. “I did that on my own.”

“Oh really? So you're telling me you gave up on your own?” You ask looking down a thim with a smile.

Murphy nods and smiles, “Yup.” He says, and then when he doesn’t talk anymore you bring the cloth down to his lips and wipe them clean of the mud staining them. You then softly move on to his neck. When you first put the cloth to him he flinches back, and you pull away, not wanting to scare him.

“Murphy, I’m not going to hurt you. But it looks like you’re bleeding, and you’ve got mud near it too, I need to wash it so you don’t get infected. That would be a horrible spot to get an infection.” You say softly, and he looks up at you. He opens his mouth to say something before he shakes his head and licks his lips. “What is it?” You ask.

He sighs softly, his breath shuddering. “Just… Be careful with me, okay? Please.” He asks, and you smile.

“Of course.” You say, and you let him relax again before softly washing his neck. Murphy has a hard time asking for things, especially for people to be nice or soft with him. The first time he did it it was when you were younger and he had accidentally cut his hand with a knife he had been laying with. He had come to the med-bay, but instead of waiting his turn or being taken care of by anyone else, he had come straight to you. “I’ll always be careful with you, Murph.” You say, and you remember saying it that day too. In a soft voice as he sat on one of the cots in front of you, looking at you like you held up the moon. You look at his face now, and see the same look.

“Thank you.” He says, and you smile softly. You both remember the conversation that day well, since it had been the first time you really saw him vulnerable. He never had even been this way after a bad day with his mother. He always hid those feelings up. You notice that Murphy’s neck is indeed bleeding, and you patch him up. “Sleepy.” He suddenly says, and you jump, not used to the sound in the quiet room.

“You can sleep, you know. I won’t hurt you.” You promise, and he nods up at you.

“I know you won’t.” He says, putting emphasis on the word ‘you’. You take a deep breath and you nod, understanding. Murphy’s scared of everyone else. You grab your knife, pulling it out and showing him it.

“I won’t let anybody hurt you.” You say, turning the knife in your hand. He smiles and laughs.

“You? Protecting me? Yeah, let’s see how that works out.” He snarks, but he closes his eyes and lets himself relax against the blankets. You softly undo his jacket, but keep his shirt on. You don’t want to do anything anywhere like that until he gets back to his normal self. You know he doesn’t like you seeing him that way. You’ve never really understood why, especially since you two are so close, but you assume it’s some type of self worth issues. You finish washing him up, first his arms, then his legs. He only stirs a few times, like if you’re cleaning a wound and it hurts him. When he does this, you shush him, softly petting his face until his eyes close once again.

“Do you need any help?” a voice asks behind you, and you jump, surprised that it doesn’t wake up Murphy. You put down your cloth and look behind you to see Clarke. You can tell she’s flustered, probably worried about Murphy.

“I don't need your help.” You say, your voice darker than it usually is. You know it might be irrational, but you can’t help but feel protective over Murphy. You see Clarke’s face fall and you sigh.

“I know I caused this, but I want to help. He didn’t deserve this.” She says, and you look down at the ground. “Please, let me help.” She says, walking forward. You sigh softly and look at Murphy’s sleeping face.

“I love him.” You say, grabbing his hand.

“Yeah, I assumed so.” She says, a small smile on her face. You look at her and smile.

“There’s not much to help with anymore, I cleaned him up and made sure his wounds were covered. I think you should.” You say, running your thumb over the back of his hand. “I just don't want him seeing you when he wakes up.” You admit.

“That makes sense.” Clarke responds and you nod. “I’ll be out there dealing with the others.” Clarke walks away, and leaves the dropship, leaving you and Murphy alone. You watch as Murphy wakes up once again.

“Y/N?” He asks, his eyes opening and looking up at you. You smile softly and pet his hair back again.

“Hey, baby. Go back to sleep okay?” You say, and he shakes his head. You look down at him in confusion. “Why not?” You ask.

“Want you- Want you to hold me.” He says softly, and you feel your heart break. He never asks to be held, not unless something is really wrong.

“Okay, baby, I will. Just relax okay?” You say, moving so that you’re behind him. You wrap your arm around him, and you feel him turn around in your arms. He buries his face in your shoulder and you sigh saldy, bringing your hand up to play with his hair. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” You say, and Murphy nods softly.

“My Knight in Shining Armor.” Murphy jokes, and you smile softly, kissing the top of his head. You’re happy to help him. Hopefully from here on out, everything will be okay.

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.9k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist link here 

AO3 link here 

Author’s Note: And we’re at the final chapter! Thank you so much for going on this wild ride with me, and I’m rly excited to hear what you guys think - so please, drop me an ask, a note, a comment, anything!!! 

It takes time and effort to rebuild a home wrecked by a storm, and reconstruction efforts aren’t necessarily smooth sailing, especially at the start - after all, he’s still the same Miya Atsumu, arrogant and brash and foulmouthed and hyper focused on volleyball, and they both have baggage from years of regret and pain to work through. But he has determination to spare, and she loves him too much for her own good, so they start from the very foundation and work their way up, step by step, one day at a time. 

‘I’ll kill ya if ya ever hurt her again’, Osamu threatens darkly when she and Atsumu break the news to him. 

‘Go find yer own girl and stop being sweet on my wife damn it! ’ Atsumu growls, but the kiss he presses to her forehead when she smacks the back of his head for being mean to his twin is achingly sweet. 

‘Ugh, soppy. Get yer shit outta my house!’ Osamu scrunches his face in mock disgust. 

Both brothers are surprised when she beats Atsumu at flipping Osamu off. 

Atsumu moves back home (he’s not even going to hide how happy the sound of that makes him), and they mark the occasion by slipping his wedding ring back on his finger and eating take-out pizza on the living room floor. 

Her burly brothers turn up on their doorstep with a glint in their eyes and too much teeth in their smiles, determined to drag Atsumu off for a couple of drinks and what she assumes will be a very unpleasant chat. She’d insisted on patting them down to make sure they’re not packing any knives - ‘what do you take us for, little sis’, they’d protested - but she’s not taking any chances, and begs Osamu to join them, ‘please ‘Samu, I don’t want to be a widow right after I decide not to divorce his ass’, and he agrees despite grumbling that he might as well be Atsumu’s glorified babysitter at this rate. 

She’d woken up in bed the next morning to find the space beside her empty, but the living room crammed full of those four silly men. Atsumu and Osamu share a single futon between them, snoring back to back. There are faint bruises on Atsumu’s cheekbone and telltale scrapes on her own brothers’ knuckles, but otherwise they all seem relatively unscathed. 

She bends over, tracing her thumb along the contour of Atsumu’s jaw, and he stirs, eyes half lidded with sleep. 

‘Hey darlin', I’ve come home’, he tells her, warmth flickering in his smile. 

‘Welcome home, 'Tsumu’, she says, tucking the blanket under his chin and he hums in contentment, falling back asleep. 

His nightmares of brown envelopes and harsh neon lights distorting her face slowly fade, and he dreams instead of weeknight dinners and weekend picnics at the park, relishing the quiet domesticity of grocery trips and laundry loads, and delighting in home games with her and Shino cheering him on.

Some piss poor excuse of a gossip hound corners him after a match to ask him about whether he regrets leaving for Milan since his season ended in injury - and he freezes when the reporter slyly adds ‘especially since we all knew it’s a move that required you to leave your wife and daughter behind ‘. His manager is about to intervene when she sneaks up on him to slide an arm around his waist, apologising to the reporter that ‘she’s just so excited to give her husband a congratulatory kiss!’ . 

Sakusa and Meian have to join forces to pull Atsumu back from punching the reporter when he grins shark-like, thinking he’s spotted easy prey and asks her whether she felt abandoned in Japan due to his move - ‘pardon me Miya-san for my unwieldy choice of words’. 

‘Not at all’, she says without missing a beat, and Atsumu wonders if he imagines the flash of a knife in her smile. ‘I’ve always supported my husband in all his endeavours. It was a joint decision that I should stay in Japan to ensure our daughter has some stability in her life.'

‘She’s good’, his manager tells him when the reporter slinks away with his tail between his legs. 

‘Yeah - I don’t deserve her’, he answers with a rueful smile. 

When he tries to thank her that night, she levels him with a look that could knock a grown man (i.e. him) off his feet, but her voice is gentle and her words are soft. 

‘Don’t thank me’, she says. ‘Just be a better husband and father, ok?’ 

He’s not ashamed to admit that he actually cries. 

He learns to tell her he loves her at least once a day. She starts to smile back cheekily and reply ‘of course’. 

The game is in between sets when the skin at the back of his neck crackles with nerves. From the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of Osamu sprinting right into the stands. Then his ears pick up on his little girl’s scream - ‘mama’  she cries, her shrill voice ringing above the confusion rippling through the crowd and his legs move of their own accord, leaping over the barrier into the audience, as he snarls and shoves his way to her usual spot. 

He thought he’s had his fill of nightmares to last him a lifetime. He’s evidently wrong. 

She lies crumpled on the ground, head resting on Osamu’s lap. Her lips are pale and her eyes are closed but thank god - thank whichever deity’s listening - her chest still moves with her breath. He’s not quite sure what happens next - he knows he dives to his knees and pulls her towards him but everything else is a blur until her eyes flutter open and she groans. 

‘Darlin’, can ya hear me? Can ya tell me where you are?’ he asks, forcing his voice to remain calm. 

‘Tsumu? Why are you here? Aren’t you in the middle of a game?’ she murmurs, confused. 

‘Fuck the game’, he snaps. ‘Are ya feelin' ok?’ 

‘Something hurts, Tsumu’, she rasps, eyes glazing over. He can feel the chill of ice seep into his spine. 

'Yer fine, yer fine, yer going to be fine' he mutters, over and over and over again, willing her to sit up and tell him she's fine, she's ok, she'll just shake it off - but light starts to shutter out of her eyes and frost creeps up his throat. 

‘I need a medic!’ he shouts, voice cracking on every word. ‘I need a medic, now!’

‘Tsumu’, he hears his brother interrupt urgently. ‘Tsumu, she’s bleedin’. 

He’s never been more grateful for Osamu when his twin turns to yell for an ambulance and yanks Shino away with him. The little girl is kicking and screaming for her mama but he knows she would kill him if he lets their little girl be traumatised from seeing her mama lying in a pool of blood on the floor. 

He can’t breathe - not even when the medics finally come and whisk her off to the hospital, his mind hardly able to process anything, terror still coursing through his veins when the doctors press brown envelopes full of forms into his bloodstained hands for him to sign so the relevant procedures can be carried out. 

‘Don’t!’ Osamu says sharply, when he drops his head into his hands and starts to whimper about how he’ll die if he loses her again and what the fuck is he gonna do, ‘Samu, if she doesn’t make it out alive – ‘she’s stronger than ya think, don’t ya dare give up on her like that’, and he promptly shuts up after that. Time in the waiting room passes agonizingly slow, seconds feeling like minutes, minutes stretching into hours, and he would have drowned from the weight of his despair if he weren’t anchored in place by his twin’s hand on his back.

His breath rushes back into his lungs when the doctors later tell him she’s fine,  they carried out the standard operation - but she doesn’t look fine, doesn’t seem fine, is very clearly not fine when they wheel her out, huddled into a ball with her head between her knees, like her world has just collapsed into itself. She doesn’t even look up when he sits beside her, the bed dipping under his weight. 

‘I’m sorry’, she eventually says, voice barely a whisper, and he fights the urge to break down into tears – because ‘Samu’s right, she’s so much stronger than he thinks. They'd been talking about trying for a sibling for Shino for some time now, since they've both grown up with brothers of their own and can't imagine life without them. But the doctors tell him that it’s just bad luck - the baby was never going to survive, and her collapse was probably exacerbated by stress, overwork, perhaps even fatigue from her skipping lunch for work and dinner to rush to his match.

‘Don’t be. It’s not yer fault at all’, he manages to pull himself together to reassure her, but she just stares blankly at the wall. 

His grandmother calls when they find out the baby they lost would have been a boy, and he fails her again when he’s too late to snatch the phone away before the old lady’s poison drips into her ears and traps her in a deadly fog. He’d cursed the old bitch out relentlessly, but the toxic words fester beneath her skin and she fades into a ghost before his eyes. He desperately tries to stop her spiral into frozen silence, but he’s away for games more than half the time, hands tied behind his back by the stranglehold of contracts and commitments he has no choice but to fulfil. 

He’s never been so thankful before when the season finally ends - but he is, at least this time, so he can talk her into taking two weeks off from work. They drop Shino off with her indulgent grandparents, and drift down the coast on the back of her bike. She doesn’t try breaking any speed limits - and he knows he should be happy about that, but there’s no spark in her eyes, no smile to answer the wind - there hasn’t been, not since she collapsed. 

(not since they lost their child)

He buys her mochi at every town, but she picks at it listlessly, just like she does these days when Osamu tries to tempt her with his latest creations. He insists they stay at  ryokans, traditional inns with onsens attached, hoping the heat from the water might chase the chill from her bones, but colour does not return to her cheeks. There are shadows beneath her eyes, and she seems to wilt under the vibrant red and gold of autumn leaves. 

They go for a walk after dinner one night, tracing a path along the shore. He’d been talking non-stop the entire trip to mask the gaps left by her silence, but tonight he falls quiet, allowing the hum of the waves to wash over them. Her hand is cold in his, so he wraps his jacket around her shoulders and hopes the warmth from his body bleeds into hers. 

She comes to a standstill, feet sinking in the sand, and tilts her head to face him. 

‘Tsumu?’, she breathes, a question in her eyes. 

‘I’m here’, he says, a prayer in his heart. 

There is a lighthouse on the cliff just a few miles ahead, illuminating the shadows of the waves. The faintest reflection of light pools in her eyes, and he stills as she lifts her gaze to meet his. 

‘I know’, she says, offering him the smallest of smiles. 

He interlaces their fingers together firmly, and tugs her towards shelter, as a storm brews over the horizon. 

That night she tucks her head under his chin, and he holds her until she falls asleep, cradled in his arms. He keeps slumber at bay by counting her breaths, and only falls asleep himself when the storm breaks. 

'Why did I wake up to a blonde octopus wrapped around me', she mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. 

'Nah. More like a seahorse, cos I'm not letting ya go, sweetheart', he replies, tightening his grip on her waist. 'Ya got a problem with that?' 

Her only response is to burrow herself deeper into his chest.

'Guess not', he chuckles fondly, nuzzling his nose into her hair, hope blossoming anew in his heart. 

Time turns their wounds into scars and they heal together, one breath at a time. 

She stays away from their first few matches when the season begins again. The press is coerced into passing over reports of her collapse by the dual forces of the MSBY press machine and their legal team, but they are forced to ride out the gossip generated in internet forums by a fringe group of deranged fans. His teammates treat her like she’s made of glass - even Bokuto dials himself down a notch, all save for Shoyo, who slips her his mother’s number, telling her gently that the six year gap between him and Natsu wasn’t deliberate, and that she would find a sympathetic ear in the older woman. 

He knew he was right to anoint Shoyo as his favourite wing spiker - not only does he fly high enough to answer the demand of every single one of his sets, but his sunniness drags her out of the fog into yoga classes and meditation practices, and slowly but surely he watches her bloom again. It’s a powerful combination - Shoyo-kun’s friendship and his mother’s gentle conversations, Osamu’s cooking and her love for Shino, capped with his determination to show her he loves her and prove that he’s here to stay.

‘It’s like Kintsugi’, she tells him, with a wide smile. ‘All of you poured gold into the cracks of my heart and made me whole again’. 

The years pass. 

Shino turns seven – a very respectable age for his very best girl, he tells her (I'm your only girl, Papa, Shino informs him archly), and obliges her demands of a bicycle in MSBY colours and volleyball lessons, forcing all his teammates to turn up for her birthday party, volleyball themed of course. The look of unadulterated joy on his princess’ face is worth every ounce of effort to put up with Sakusa’s complaints at having to turn up for a kiddie party full of loud noises and far too much candy, and the sweaty afternoons spent hand painting the bicycle black and gold. 

The day Atsumu discovers his first white hair makes her thank her lucky stars that she’s immune to his nonsense by now, because the wailing and gnashing of teeth she has to put up with makes ‘Samu offer her his couch as refuge. She slaps tape and salonpas on his aches and pains, and points to the deepening lines on her face when he complains about his age. 

‘Those lines aren’t wrinkles. If they’re caused by laughter, it doesn’t count’, he reasons laughingly. She’s left befuddled by his logic and shakes her head.

Meian Shugo retires, and Hinata throws a party to celebrate in his honour, cramming the entire MSBY team and assorted friends into his penthouse apartment on a rainy Saturday night. Osamu’s hired to cater the food but remains as a guest, shooting a smirk at him when Shoyo drags her off to dance during his favourite song, twin flames burning bright in the night. 

‘A hundred yen for your thoughts?’ she asks, when Shoyo returns with her breathless but wreathed with smiles. 

‘Was just wondering when you were gonna save a dance for this old man’, he teases. 

‘Oh?’ she says with a laugh. ‘Thought you said your back hurt, and you didn’t want to move?’

‘Meh - I was hoping you’d forget that’, he says airily, then frowns when he notices there’s no drink in her hand. 

‘Not drinking tonight, sweetheart?’, he asks, curling his fingers around her empty hand. 

‘The doctor warned me not too’, she answers, her smile growing impossibly wider. He blinks in confusion when she leans on to her toes to whisper into his ear - then oh. 

‘You’re pregnant?’ he repeats, unable to trust his ears, eyes filling with tears when she bites her lips and nods. 

‘Are you happy, ‘Tsumu?’, she asks, her face alight with hope. 

There is so much he wants to say to her, starting with thank you loving me enough to give me another chance all those years ago and ending with I love you, so ridiculously much – because he can never say it enough, she’s given him more than he deserves – her heart, Shino, a happy home and now the promise of another child. 

But there's salt and water welling up in his throat, and it’s all he can do to choke out a shaky ‘of course’, before gathering her in his arms, warmth pooling in his eyes, love overflowing in his heart. 

They stay that way for most of the night, entwined in each other’s arms, so drunk on happiness and love and warmth that they don’t even notice the storm clearing and the moon rising in the clear night sky. 

[zafirosreverie]

Share my infinite (Agatha x Fem!reader) Part 2

A/N: This is long, guys. But i didn't want to do two parts for this, since i still have to do another one for the reader's recovery. Also, I have a huge headache, so forgive any mistakes.

Anyway, i hope you like it! ^ - ^

You ran as fast as you could, voices screaming with rage behind you. They will kill you. 

“Shit” you growled when you tripped with a branch. You got up quickly and continued running, but that second was enough for the dogs to come closer to you. Those stupid dogs and their stupid owners, why couldn’t they leave you alone?! You didn’t do anything to them and yet they were hunting you, just because of your “family”. 

“I don’t even have the last name” you mumbled. 

You were part of a rich family that was respected among the people of your town, but you were never a part of it. You were the odd one, the freak, the mistake. You were the only one that inherited your grandfather's...condition. 

At some point in the family’s story, someone thought it was cool and a good idea messing up with dark magic and ended up marrying a vampire, condemning the entire lineage to fear for the purity of their blood. By the time you were born, that was just a legend, something the parents told their childs to make them behave. 

“Y/N, stop doing that” your mother would say. “It must be the vampire in her” your father would add. 

You were a pretty curious girl, which led to many misbehaviours, so you heard that phrase too often. 

“Wish something really hard and it will become a reality” you thought with sarcasm. 

When you were 8, the nightmare began. You had just lost your baby teeth and your new ones were appearing. Your parents thought it was cute, but then, your new fangs came and they screamed in horror. They were too long to be normal. They were like your grandfather’s. They were vampire’s fangs.

At first, they tried to pull them out, it hurted like hell, but they didn’t move. So, your parent’s kept you hiden, not even the rest of the family could see you (you would later hear that they didn’t want to). The only person that you were allowed to interact with, was the grandfather himself. He was actually your great great great great great great grandfather, but allowed you to call him Grandpa or Grandfather. Your parents decided that you were no longer their daughter, so he gave you his last name. His real one.

He was sweet and nice with you, teaching you how to retract your fangs and everything he knew about your condition. He told you that you shouldn’t worry, that it was something that happened every generation. Your uncle Nicholás had it too, so it wasn’t anything you couldn’t control. 

What he didn’t tell you was that uncle Nick was burned alive for it.

You weren't a full vampire, you only had a few remnants of vampire blood in your veins. Grandpa was sure that, with every generation that had the condition, it became weaker and weaker, so he had faith that you would be the last one to have it. And he was right. 

You were the last one. None of your nephews or nieces got it, nor their children or grandchildren or great grand children. You were there for the babies’ births, and for their deaths too. Generations came and went, but you remained the same. You stopped aging at 22, and were trapped like that ever since. Your grandfather died long after your great grand nephews did, but it proved that you were not eternal.

As the years passed, you became kind of a myth among the family, the maiden who didn't age. The ghost of the library. The shadow of the house. Generation after generation, you became just another part of the family heritage, something that came with being part of the Van Dales. Everyone treated you like another decoration.

Until now.

These new people (you had stopped thinking of the new generations as your family long ago) decided it wasn’t fair that you got to enjoy all the money while they had to die. It was a stupid argument, but that didn’t matter. You knew they just wanted to get rid of you. And that’s what they did. 

They spread the word around the town, that whoever brought your head to them would be rewarded with part of the family treasure. You barely had time to grab a small bag with your belongings (the ones you had since you were a child) before you were carried out of the house and into the woods.

They didn't tell you why, just to wait and they left you there. A few minutes later you heard the footsteps of the people and a man saying that he would be the one to kill you and claim the reward.

You started running in that very second.

“don’t change, don’t change, don’t change” you begged, feeling your eyes burning. 

One of the things that you learnt the hard way was that when you were in danger, your e/c eyes would change to dark red, and then you would go into a frenzy. That meant you would become a murder machine, and you didn’t want that even if it was your last hope. 

“Of all the things I got from the vampires, why couldn't it be super speed?” you thought as you heard the men coming closer. Your legs were burning and your lungs were about to explode.  

You weren’t paying much attention, so you didn’t notice the air changing nor the energy around you. You needed to escape. 

You tripped again and you cursed. But you couldn't hear the dogs or the men anymore. You lost them? How? They were right behind you, there was no chance that you could have lost them.

But you needed to rest so you weren't complaining at all. It didn't last for too long. 

You heard a leaf crushing and steps close to you. You stood up quickly and prepared to run again, but something stopped you. You couldn't move, as if your feet were glued to the earth. 

"Well, well. What do we have here?" A voice said behind you. You froze and your eyes started to burn again. The person walked around you and you saw the most beautiful woman ever. Her eyes and hands were glowing with a purple light and suddenly you understood why you couldn’t move. She was a witch. 

Your grandfather taught you about witches, saying that, just like you, they were usually misunderstood, and that you shouldn’t be afraid of them. Even if you ever meet an evil witch, the vampire blood in you would protect you. The fact that her magic had an effect on you, meant that she actually didn’t want to hurt you. 

"Aren't you a precious little thing?” she asked and you couldn’t help but notice how lovely her voice was. “What are you doing here, darling?” 

You opened your mouth but closed it again. There was so much to explain but words didn’t come to you at the moment. You remained silent for a few moments before trying to speak again.

“I- I escaped” you whispered, making the woman raise her eyebrow.

“escaped? from what?” she asked, stepping closer to you.

“Men” you simply said. Her presence was making you nervous and you felt your cheeks blushing. 

Your answer seemed to be enough for her and she nodded, unwrapping you from her magic.You noticed her eyes turned to an ice blue color and you gasped. They were the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen.

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

“Y/N” 

“Y/N” she repeated and your heart jumped a little. You loved the way your name sounded in her voice. “Come with me” she said and started walking. You blinked and stood there for a moment before you quickly followed her. You didn’t know her, but it was this witch or the hunters. 

They didn’t have beautiful blue eyes or a lovely voice. So the choice was easy.

She took you to a small cabin, surrounded by big trees and a little pond on the side. You blinked and blushed as she opened the door for you. The simple interior made you feel warm and protected. She saw you wandering around the room, watching her things carefully, not touching anything but being interested in them.

You noticed her smile and stopped walking, taking a step back. She was staring at you as if you were her prey, which, to be fair, might be the case. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you that you don’t follow strangers into their houses, love?” she finally asked after a long moment of just staring at you. 

Agatha was intrigued by you. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn’t have been able to pass the barrier she put around her house, not even other witches could do it. But most importantly, you shouldn’t be standing there as if you were comfortable in her presence. As if you weren’t afraid of her.

“I’ve been living with strangers for a long time” you said honestly and shrugged “i guess i’m not afraid of them anymore”

That made Agatha even more curious. She walked to you and locked eyes with you. You were a little surprised by it, but you didn’t look away. 

“You’re like me” she said softly, and you shrugged again.

“I guess so?”

The witch didn’t want to have high hopes, but she had been alone for almost 200 years now and the possibility of having some company was enough to let you stay some days. At least until she discovered more about you and how much power you had.

_________

“Don't” Agatha warned you, not lifting her eyes from her book “whatever you’re thinking, don’t”

You giggled and ignored her “I’m not doing anything, Aggie” you lied and she sighed. 

She was about to turn around to see what you were planning, when she felt your cold hands in the back of her neck, making her jump.

“Y/N!!!” she yelled and you laughed, watching her shivering. 

“Got ya!” you said when she turned to face you

“Those are ice! Are you sure you’re not dead?” she asked with sarcasm and fake anger, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away. 

“Could be. I haven’t checked my pulse today” you joked and she chuckled. 

You had been living with her for a year, and she had fallen head over heels for you. You were sweet, charming, always had a smile on your beautiful face and you were always finding ways to make her laugh. You were kind and loving towards her, making her loneliness fade away. 

But you were also naughty as hell. 

You loved making pranks, jokes and chaos. She was your favorite target, but it was something almost innocent, nothing that a child couldn’t do (a part of her knew it was because you were forced to grow up too quickly, so you were just doing what you wanted to do back then), but that benevolence didn’t extend to other people.

Your pranks and jokes were anything but innocent when the targets were people from the town near the forest. It made sense, because they were the same people that tried to kill you a year ago. But you once told her that you actually just enjoyed causing chaos, which made her fall in love with you even more. She loved being by your side whenever you caused something among the humans. It was a magnificent artwork, a chaotic, kind of evil, maniac, artwork. And it had both of your signaments in the corner.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice you talking to her. When you looked at her and saw that you had lost her at some point, an evil grin appeared on your face. Well, you were not a person that decline opportunities. 

Agatha gasped when you pushed her to the pond. 

“Y/N!!!!” she yelled again and you laughed harder. 

“That’ll teach you not to ignore me when I’m trying to declare my love for you, Harkness” you joked and walked to the house. 

The witch sighed as she stood and used her magic to dry herself. That has been your most cruel joke to this day. 

When she met you, she assumed you were a witch. You crossed her barrier, after all, so you must be a powerful one. But when she tried to steal your magic when you were asleep, she sensed it was too weak, she could barely call it magic at all. 

That confused her so much. How did you cross then? This amount of magic was not enough to do it. The next day, she confronted about it and you just blinked. 

“You think i’m a witch?” you asked before you giggled “I’m a vampire” you said and left her speechless. 

You taught her everything you knew about your condition, but it wasn’t too much since your family just wanted you to hide yourself. So she tried to learn everything she could about vampires. You frowned and said that if she was going to learn about your kin, then you wanted to learn about hers.

And just like that, your lessons started. The first days, you two sat at the table with a pile of books in front of you, but that plan disappeared the moment you saw her stretching to make her back more comfortable. You took the books and threw them on the floor, making Agatha gasp, then you took her hand and made her lie beside you on the wood. You’ve never used chairs for study or reading since then.

The joke started when she started to teach you some tricks. They were pretty simple and basic, but she loved the look in your face when you got one of them right. One day, you were so happy to finally do a spell you were trying for weeks, that you kissed her cheek with excitement and her mind went blank, her cheeks burning. You noticed it and never let her live with it.

Since then, you would make comments or do things that made her believe you might feel the same, but then you would just laugh and leave her with a hole in her chest. 

“Aggie?” you asked softly. You had noticed that she didn’t follow you and after a moment, you went out again to make sure she was okay. You frowned when you saw her just standing there, lost in her thoughts.  

You carefully took her hand and she jumped, looking at you. 

“Are you ok?” you asked and she nodded, removing her hand from yours. 

“I’m fine, Y/N” she said and your frown deepened. She never used that tone with you. The “I have something in my mind but you wouldn’t understand so let’s pretend i’m alright” tone. You took her face in your hands and made her lock eyes with you. 

“Don’t lie to me” you whispered 

Agatha stared at you for a moment before she sighed. She couldn’t. She always thought she was strong enough to lie to everyone, to take what she needed and do what she wanted. But you, you made her weak. And she would do anything for you. Even expose her heart and let you break it.

“Please don’t do it” she said “please don’t make jokes about your love for me. Not when we both know you don’t mean it.”

You frowned again in confusion, but when you understood her words, you blushed and felt your pulse racing. 

“Who said i don’t mean it?” you asked softly, caressing her cheek.

“NO!” Agatha said, more harsh than she intended “Don’t do it Y/N.” she said, whispering again “Please. Don’t give me false hopes. I can’t take it” she begged and you felt guilt invading you.

You had been making those jokes because they were the only way you could get your own feelings out of your chest without actually risking your friendship with the witch. If you had known she felt the same way…

Agatha gasped when she felt your lips against hers. She wasn’t expecting this, but she had been wanting to do it for so long that she took the opportunity. She wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her. Your lips were too soft and she would be happy to lose herself in them.

“I’m sorry” you whispered when you broke the kiss “I’m sorry i didn’t tell you before” 

That made her open her eyes. There was a silent question in them, and only your own eyes had the answer. 

You kissed her again, and again, and again, wanting to erase all the doubts you accidentally planted in her mind. Each kiss was an apology and a promise. No words were needed at that moment.