#stopped to carry him to the stupid litter box

[charmac]

x

[riaki]

hii! yk that trend on tiktok where the girl asks her man to name a woman and gets suspicious when he says a name beside hers? i would like to request that with gojo please! thanksss

name a woman | satoru gojo x f!reader thanks for ur req! here u go <3 slightly different from what u asked but i hope it works | cw fem reader + petnames, slightly suggestive, he's kinda a scumbag lol

it's a lazy saturday afternoon when you get betrayed by your boyfriend.

you're sitting at the round table on the patio of satoru's place; you always forget just how rich his parents are whenever you're around him. if not for that stupidly expensive cologne he wears and that one time you happened to see the price tag on the new pair of sunglasses he bought himself, you would've been blissfully unaware. after all, for a rich kid, he's pretty grounded. at least, when he isn't tooting his own horn.

but being here on the gojo estate, it hits you in the face like a ton of bricks; forces you to accept the fact that your boyfriend is loaded.

the breeze is gentle as it runs through your hair, but satoru's absentminded touch as he drums his fingers along your arm is more than you could ever ask for. it's the little things like this; habits of his that make you love him all the more. the way he'll throw his arms around your neck and latch onto to give you a big hug from behind, or carry you around like you're a little kid when you're worn out and you can't feel your feet from a day's worth of walking.

there's seven empty juice boxes littered across the table and a half-empty one in your hand; the paper straw is already folding in on itself, which makes it much harder to get any of the remnants at the bottom of the carton. at least the drink is nice and sweet; refreshing lime on a sunny day.

"why did they stop giving these things plastic straws? it's so soggy now," you complained, shifting in your seat as you shook the juice box. it did not relent, or give up any of its juice. you make a face, and you could swear it makes one back.

satoru glances up at you, tearing his attention away from his phone as a small grin appears on his lips. "don't you know? it's good for the environment. obviously, you're not in tune with nature like i am." he snickers, adjusting his shades on the bridge of his nose before turning his attention back to the screen between his fingers, withdrawing the hand that was on your arm to form a cushion for his chin on the crook of his elbow.

"oh, [name], [name]! you're hurting us! woe be upon thy and thou foul plastic tomfoolery." your dignified lover puts his phone down, straightening up to wave his arms about as if he's one of those inflatables you see in front of car dealerships. you think he's trying to be a tree, but you're not entirely sure. "hear that? the plants are calling you," he grins, pausing his arm waves to nudge you in the shoulder.

"stop doing that, satoru. you look stupid. the maids will think you've lost it," you chuckled, kicking his leg in jest as you leaned back in your seat and took another sip from the juice box.

"you're one to talk." he scoffs, and you glare at him, giving him a pointed look. he just giggles, sticking his tongue out before making a grab at your juice box. you swipe it out of his reach before he can wiggle his fingers any closer, and the way his expression falls an apple from a tree makes a laugh bubble from your throat. unlike the apple, it's not gravity that's pulled him down; you never indulge him, because you like making him chase. he enjoys it— he thinks it's good that you're playful. but it's annoying when he's thirsty and it's not his fault those juice boxes are so damn small.

"toru, i have a question for you. answer well and the rest of this is yours," you said, shifting in your seat to cross your legs and face him, propping the juice box on your knee. there's not much inside, but you know he'll scavenge for every last drop, like he's some raccoon. it's cute, you think.

he perks up immediately, turning his phone off and mirroring your position in his own seat; his limbs are slightly too long and too lanky to fit proportionately in the seat, but he doesn't seem to mind when his knee bumps against yours.

"yes? what is it, my sweetpea?" he grins, enjoying the sour expression on your face. it seems the lime juice has worked its way into your system.

you scowl. "sweetpea? what kind of nickname is that?" it's cute, though, so you don't say anything more. you stare at him for a moment, taking in his features; the wide smirk on his lips, the way his hair gently ruffles around his face like passing clouds.

you sigh; resigned, as you roll your eyes.

"name a woman."

"...what?"

he tilts his head to the side, staring at you through his lashes, an inquisitive squint that makes him look a lot like a white cat.

you laugh a little, and his grin widens. "you heard me. name a woman. any; the first that comes to your mind."

he hums in acknowledgement, making a show out of tapping his chin with a finger in deep thought, a mock pensive expression twisting his lips down before he looks at you again, a teasing glint in his azure eyes that gives you a terrible sense of foreboding.

"kuroki meisa."

...

now it's your turn to ask. "what?"

he shrugs, a shit-eating grin on his face yet again as he tilts his shades down to give you a look that he knows will get you bothered.

"you heard me, princess. i named a woman. the first that comes to my brilliant mind, right? now how about giving me that juice box—" he starts, reaching forward and leaning in his seat to make another grab at the box perched on your knee. you yank it away from him just in time; his fists close around cool air and he groans loudly.

"you're no fun." he pouts, biting the inside of his cheek.

"satoru! who the hell is kuroki meisa? you were supposed to say me! or your mom, at least. or shoko." you glared at him, turning your nose up and refusing to acknowledge him as he pouts and crosses his arms over his chest like some petulant child who got his ipad confiscated.

"i did what you told me to do! you can't be mad at me for that." he protests, squirming in his seat.

a lightbulb goes off in your head; normally, that'd be a good thing, but the way you're gritting your teeth so hard he thinks your jaw might crack doesn't bode well. "wait, don't tell me. is she another one of those models? satoru, i swear—" you start, but he cuts you off hastily, making a mad grab at the juice box and coming out successful and surprisingly unscathed.

"she is." he says sheepishly, toying with the sad paper straw before attempting to take a sip. he struggles, but eventually you hear the tell tale sign of liquid moving up the hollow straw. you're too busy seething to notice, though.

"gojo." you say his surname, and he flinches a little, an overwhelming sense of icy dread sinking its claws into his shoulders as his grin turns into one of nervous panic. it's familiar; the one he experienced when you'd found one of your missing bras in the drawer compartment underneath his king sized mattress (that he always complains about feeling ten times emptier without you in it).

"yes, my sweet?" satoru's about to face you when something hits him square in the face— with all malicious intent and cutting cardboard corners. seven juice boxes on the table plus one half-filled one has now become six on the table, a half-filled in his hand, and another on the floor. you're glaring daggers at him, still posed to strike in your chair. he rubs his cheek, grinding his teeth together and grumbling before he looks at you again with an extremely disappointed expression on his face. "the plants, baby! if they didn't already dislike you, they sure do now." he huffs. but with the way you're looking at him, he wouldn't put it past you to throw the table at him next.

"give me my juice box back, you brat." you hiss, and he laughs, staring down at you like you're some cute little zoo animal. he wants to dote on you; he can't help it! you're so adorable, with your cheeks all red and your bottom lip sticking out in a little endearing pout. he wants nothing more than to drop the juice box, drag you onto his lap and squish your pretty face until you start complaining and stop him with a kiss.

satoru knows he won't get anywhere if you're still pissed at him, though, so he at least has to try and make amends.

"aww, don't worry, baby! you're the only woman i think of when i—"

"that's enough out of you, traitor."

satoru just grins and finishes off the juice box, relishing in the look of mild anguish on your face as you watch the cardboard crinkle inward like some black hole sucked it in; a telltale sign of what was half-filled a moment ago becoming completely empty; a dry well that was once your reservoir of life. you retreat back into your seat, hugging your knees to your chest and putting on your best, heart-tugging frown. it doesn't take long for satoru to notice when you do, and he immediately melts, tossing the juice box aside to the poor plants and leaning forward to cup your cheek in his palm.

"what's wrong, love? you know i only did it to see you upset," he chuckles, and you can't help but smile before remembering you're supposed to be pissed.

"that was the last juice box, satoru. and i'm still thirsty. and a little hungry." you sighed, rubbing your forehead. you felt a little guilty. "but it's okay."

satoru sighs, before pulling away and standing up, stretching his arms and cracking his back with exaggerated movements, like he's making letters out of his body.

"alr-ight! up with you, then. let's go to the market." he grins, lending you a hand and nudging your foot with his. you stare up at him with those sweet big eyes, and he feels himself melt a little.

"are you sure? they're expensive—“

"shut it, sweetpea. it's all on me. how does katsu sound?"

your face lights up, and so does his. after all, he'd do anything for his sweet girl— no model could ever compare to the very sun of his life; the brightest star in his sky.

not proofread i hope we’re not surprised my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Camp Half Blood Halloween Lookalike Shenanigans Headcanon

My little brother and I decided it would be funny if there was a Camp Half-Blood halloween party where everyone came dressed as a different member of the camp. Our ideas include:

Grover dresses as Percy, borrowing one of his flannel shirts and putting a streak of gray in his hair.

Nico also dresses as Percy, but in the most stereotypical way possible. He keeps pulling massive amounts of blue candy out of his pockets and threatening to fight people with a ballpoint pen.

Annabeth dresses as Grover. She finds a way to get food to look like tin cans and candy wrappers, and spends the whole time eating those while stopping everyone who keeps accidentally littering.

Percy and Jason dress as each other and swear they didn't plan it in advance. Piper also dresses as Annabeth and she and Jason call each other seaweed brain and wise girl the whole time.

Mr. D complains that the whole thing is stupid and he's not participating, up until the day of the party, when he's seen walking around with an orange t-shirt and a nametag that says "PETER JOHNSON"

Connor and Travis are dressed as themselves. They keep saying things like "CLEARLY I'm dressed as my brother," and "can't you tell? We switched necklaces!" when in actuality they did not at all and came dressed as themselves (or as each other pretending to be themselves I guess?)

Will plays the greatest Nico DiAngelo imaginable, wearing all black, carrying around a Happy Meal box, and walking around complaining about how "everyone hates me even though I have no evidence to support this claim" and "oh maybe those Apollo kids are right and I should start actually taking care of myself, but alas! I shall not!"

Leo dresses as Jason. Actually, he's wearing a superman costume and a blonde wig, but it gets the point across. He keeps walking up to Percy, who is also dressed as Jason, and saying "oh great, ONE of us is gonna have to change," and also finding random places to pretend to pass out and knock himself unconscious. He's having the time of his life....

That is, until Hazel shows up from Camp Jupiter in a dirty white buttondown shirt and suspenders, grease staining her face and hair, wearing a cheap dollar tree toolbelt with plastic tools. She peppers a pun into every conversation and jokingly flirts with half the girls there, and even though Leo acts unimpressed, everyone else agrees she almost makes a better Leo than he does.

Frank comes with her. Having mastered his powers of shapeshifting, he manages to shapeshift only his lower half into a horse, thus making a pretty good centaur, and he wears a suit jacket and speaks in a cryptic manner, making for a pretty convincing Chiron. At first, Frank wasn't sure if it was such a good idea. Maybe Chiron would think it was rude, or in poor taste? He ends up very glad that Hazel and Leo convinced him to do it when he sees how much everyone appreciates his costume.

And, of course, Frank realizes he had nothing to worry about when Chiron comes in wearing a hawaiian shirt, with a diet coke in hand, as he calls every single camper by the wrong name.

[the-fiction-witch]

Experiment

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Adorable

Requested Hi! Can you do a Jack Dawkins x fem reader where the reader works at the hospital as a nurse and has always been nice to Jack. They have similar humor and she's always very helpful. One day when Jack loses a patient he goes outside to take a breather and the reader follows him and comforts him. And then maybe a few days later Jack realizes he likes her. You don't have to write it if you don't want to! Have a good day! 

I walked the hospital halls as usual busy with a list of nine hundred things to do, as I went I momentarily stopped or I'd have been knocked over. As Y/n ran across the hall carrying a box full of clattering glass bottles from the stock room, scampering on her way in her little grey nurse dress, her arms bandaged and currently she walked with a slight limp but this was fairly usual for her she was always injured in some sort of way. Her ponytail fluttered behind her as she went. 

"Sorry Doctor Dawkins!" she said as she had almost taken me out, 

"It's fine Y/n." I laughed, "What are you doing?" I asked a little worried starting to follow her,

"I've had a breakthrough!" she said as she scurried down the stairwell, 

"Ohh god- you haven't broken through the floor again have you?"

"You have so little faith in me."

"Based completely on your track record,"

"I am right four out of ten times." she corrected,

"...I'm concerned you think that's good." 

"And you're surgery survival rate is?" She smiled, 

"Hey!" I argued but ignored me, 

She reached the little old storeroom in the basement of the hospital just a door down from the morgue where she was meant to be working, but she set her box down in the chaos since this room was emptied when the hospital moved all the stock to the storeroom upstairs for better access this room very much just became a junk room to toss old broken things or fill with tasks yet to be completed. Y/n is a... I don't want to say inventor she rarely invents anything...

Tinkerer let's say, and given she was meant to work down here in the morgue with Tim she often sneaks away to work in this little store room, on experiments and tests for things that would be the hospital, the room littered with everything you could imagine bottles, bags, stands, tubes, all with the floor well mopped and fixed, the wallpaper peeling and a hole in the boards up to the ward been hastily repaired... 

Yeah, I don't know what she had been working on but whatever it was erupted out the contained and blew a hole in the floor. 

she's a bit out there but she means well.

Even if she -

"Ohh crumpets." she sighed as she fell over her own skirt and landed on the wooden floor with her knee smashing one of the bottles she had in hand as she did, 

Yeah... she can be a little clumsy, but... she's kinda funny like that, I find her sweet almost childlike. You can't get mad at a kid for trying to bury her teddy bear to make baby bears grow I feel that kinda way about her, she's just trying to help even if she's not exactly harmless. And she's a damn good nurse... when she actually remembers to do her job. 

So I... admit I cover for her sometimes, when she blew the hole up to the ward I explained it away as someone knocking over a bucket of acid that ate through the wood, not sure if someone believed me but still. 

I rushed over and helped her up, "You alright,"

"Fine, thank you," she smiled getting back to rushing around and doing various things not sure what, 

"How did you hurt your leg?"

"...I may have... tripped over a box."

"Are you ever going to get that dress hemmed?"

"Are you ever going to get a waistcoat that fits you? or are you forever going to walk around the hospital flashing your suspender clips every time you lift your arms?" 

"Touche," I sighed,

"Aww, you can say stupid stuff in two languages," 

"Fine I'll go," I laughed, "Got work I need to do anyway," I told her but I only got as far as the door, "What are you working on?"

"I thought you were leaving?"

"I was. What are you working on?" 

"an experiment."

"what sort of experiment?"

"I am trying to work on a wound cleaner."

"Right?" I nodded, "How's that going?"

"Well if I got this right it should be perfect," she said as she filled a bottle, and pulled back her bandage to reveal a cut on her arm,

"Y/n! Where did that come from!"

"...I may have been testing is kolara like oranges."

"Do they?"

"...they do not." 

"So you got attacked trying to make another animal friend?"

"At least I did better than when you try to make human friends,"

"That's just cruel." I laughed, "Don't you have enough friends with that wombat you had living in your room?"

"Mr Brick loved me very much, you're just jealous." She smiled before she poured her homemade cleaner on her arm 

Her Face! said it all.

"Did it work?" I smirked,

"....it does not..." she complained as she hopped around in pain before tripping on her skirt and landing on her butt in a pile of boxes, I laughed but went to help her and saw how much worse her wound now was, "Ohhh Bloody crumpets that hurts!"

"Uhhh what is in that?"

"witch hazel, eucalyptus oil and carbolic acid."

"C-Carbolic acid!" I yelled, "As in the stuff we use to clean the bodies!" I quickly started to clean her up before she got too bad of an acid burn, 

"I figured, the bodies are clean. don't get infected and gross so I thought it would work on alive people too."

"it might. that doesn't mean pour it on your arm and find out!"

"Well, how else am I supposed to test it?"

I sighed, "You worry me you know." I told her rebandaging her up, 

"Ohhh?"

"I'm serious. You do worry me."

"I know, I'll be fine."

"Alright, I've got surgery. But be careful." I told her,

"I will I promise," she nodded,

I headed back up to the hospital and got prepped for today's surgery, Hetty brought the man in and I didn't waste time getting to work but soon enough the Prof came in drunk and full of ego he ordered me to stand aside, I didn't want to but I didn't have a choice so I handed my blade over and stepped aside. He went at it like a mad man and I tried to correct him but he made a wrong move and blood went everywhere, Immediately I pushed him aside and took over doing everything I could and working away as hard as I could to save his life and managing to get him stable but after all the blood-soaked work. Just as I finished up.

He died of shock. 

I threw my tools on the table and ran a hand through my hair, I sighed and I marched out to the steps sitting there in the sun trying to get my breath. I leant my head back and tried to get my mind steady even if it ran at a million miles an hour with a hundred different ways of catastrophe, 

I heard the door open. 

But I didn't worry about it, I just tried to hold back the tears. 

I felt Y/n wrap her arms around me, she didn't say anything she just wrapped her arms around my torso and shoulders, she pulled my head to rest on her chest, and set her chin on my hair, her hand stroked up and down my sleeve, for a moment I let the tears slip letting them fall onto her apron, there was a silence between us, the only sound the wind blustering the sheets hung outside, and the sound of horseshoes and carriage wheels on the street to the side, her arms felt warm, her dress scratchy, but I didn't care. I wrapped my arms around her tightly holding her as close to her as I possibly can, blood coating the both of us. 

We sat together for a good while before I spoke, "Thanks."

"It's okay. I can't imagine how hard this sort of thing is." she whispered, "It's not your fault-"

"Who else's is it? I'm a doctor. My job is to save people."

"But you're human." she said, "You can't blame yourself for these things." she whispered, "You did all you could and in the end that's all you can do," she said kissing the top of my head, 

"Thank you y/n. Really... Thank you." 

"You're welcome." She smiled, "Take as long as you need Jack." she said before she got up adjusted her dress she headed back inside leaving me alone. 

I headed on with my work through the halls as usual when I heard a clattering and banging making me stop looking into the storeroom, to see y/n in her usual dress bandaged up as usual having tripped her overskirt and topped a box of tools in her hand. "ohh Crumpets." 

I couldn't help but smile my cheeks flooded with blush for a moment, and as I looked at her.. I felt so homely, so cozy, so comforted, "Y/n." I rolled my eyes coming into the storeroom to help her up and brush off the dust from her, "You need to be more careful. What on earth are you up to know?"

"I think I've figured out the experiment with the acid."

"Have you. and how many burns have you gotten in your experiments?"

"... some."

"Alright, just be careful y/n."

"I will," she smiled grabbing her box and scampering away to her little experiment room, I watched her go and smiled as I watched her, I felt compelled to follow her concerned she'd do something foolish, and... partly because I just wanted her in my arms. 

Wait- I really do want her in my arms, I want to hold her close, give her kisses, tend to her insane amount of wounds, likely with some kisses, I wanted to follow her, keep her safe. For a moment I wondered why but I already knew why. I... I like her. I wanted her up in my room not just for one night but for as long as my arms can hold her. 

I heard her trip over her damn skirt again and go tumbling down the stairs so I rushed over and saw her at the bottom luckily not badly hurt, 

"Ohh Crumpets..."

"You need a hand?"

"I need a hemmed dress I think,"

"Yes you do," I laughed going down to help her up but she almost immediately lost her balance putting weight on her leg, so I rolled my eyes, "Will you let me examine you?"

"...Fine," she sighed,

"All of you?"

She glared for a moment,

"Y/n."

"...fine."

"Come on, I'll take a look at you" I smiled picking her up and carrying her back up the stairs to one of the rooms so I could examine her, 

[messers-moony]

Hope 2 | R.L

Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Potter!Reader

Summary: Life is unfair in numerous ways but it seems like it’s out to get the Potters in every way shape and form.

The huge eight-foot man who introduced himself as Hagrid was bringing Harry around London. It was amusing to see Hagrid turn his cousin - Dudley - butt into a pigtail after trying to eat his birthday cake. It was the first birthday Y/n, and Remus hadn’t shown up. Harry didn’t blame them. Of course, to be fair, they didn’t know where Harry was. 

“Um, excuse me, Hagrid?” 

“Yes, ‘Arry?”

“Where- Where are we going?” Harry questioned hesitantly, and Hagrids lips curled into a smile, “‘Er gon’ meet with som’ of yer folks.” Hagrid answered. 

Harry wanted to jump with joy, “Moony and Y/n?”

Hagrid nodded, and Harry smiled brightly. It took a couple of minutes and walking of a couple more blocks. But eventually, they were coming up on an old-looking building made of black stone bricks. In front of the door was a familiar sandy-haired male with green eyes. He was accompanied by his wife with h/c hair and gleaming e/c eyes. 

“Y/n! Remus!” 

Y/n turned to see her little nephew running up to hug her tightly, “Hey Harry.” 

Remus ruffled his hair while Harry hugged his aunt, “Hey there, mini Prongs.”

“I missed you.”

“Awe, I missed you too, Harry.” Y/n replied, pulling apart from Harry, “I’m sorry we didn’t show up right away. But we’re here now. I hope that’s okay. We wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world, okay?”

He nodded, “I know. I can always count on you.” 

“Good.” Remus stated, “Now c’mon mini prongs. Gotta get your school supplies.”

Walking into the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid, they were greeted by multiple people. Many people were flabbergasted by meeting the famous Harry Potter and were welcoming to see Y/n Potter. In the back of the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid tapped his wand against the brick wall, causing it to open into Diagon Alley. Harry’s mouth was agape at this new form of Magic. 

It was astonishing. The narrow alleyway was packed with people. Clusters of them walking in groups. Some were carrying animals, or brown-wrapped items Harry could suppose were books. Y/n smiled and intertwined her hand with Remus’. She could remember the first time she stepped into Diagon Alley. James was acting like such a prat. 

“Woah!” James gasped, “Look at all the cool stuff!” 

Fleamont chuckled, “Yeah. Isn’t it cool, sweetheart?”

Y/n nodded, completely entranced in the stonework in the alleyway. It was littered with different shops, and the roads were an uneven stone. Euphemia and Fleamont shared a look of pure glee. Their children were magical born, and they were finally experiencing it first hand. Of course, they had their incidents where Y/n would make lights flicker or James blowing plates. 

As they began walking, James began to run off, bumping into people left and right, “James! Get back here!” Fleamont scolded, but he was out of sight. 

Euphemia sighed, “He’s gonna be a handful.”

“Definitely.” Fleamont agreed, running a hand through his dark brunet hair, “Perhaps he’ll be even worse than me.”

His wife glared at him. Despite James disappearing, they took Y/n into Flourish and Blotts to get their books. They needed books such as The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and finally, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. 

They didn’t find James until they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies. He was already eyeing the new broom on display. His mouth seemed to be salivating at it. Y/n rolled her eyes at James, drooling over a piece of wood. Euphemia chuckled and motioned Fleamont to reel him back in. It seemed that Euphemia would never get a break, and her heart would be in a constant attack of worry. They had a mischief Quidditch player on their hands. 

“C’mon Harry,” Y/n beckoned, “Lots of stuff to get.”

His smile faltered just a tad, “But I don’t- I don’t have any money.”

Harry’s embarrassment made the tips of his ears red, “That ain’t true. ‘Course ye got money.” Hagrid replied bluntly, making Y/n nudge him harshly, “Hagrid!”

“What?” Hagrid queried, confused, “‘S not like ‘m lyin’.” 

“Yes, but you don’t just say that.” Y/n scolded, laughing lightly. 

“Oops?”

Harry looked up at his flustered aunt, “Come on, Harry. We’re going to Gringotts.”  

They began walking to the bank of wizardry. The goblin at the front allowed them to the vault, where Harry was able to pocket a couple of handfuls of galleons, sickles, and knuts. Hagrid made a separate trip for Dumbledore as the other three waited patiently. When they exited Gringotts, Harry began to buy all his supplies. 

Their first stop was getting him a wand at Ollivander’s. Harry pushed the door open, and it sounded a bell off, but no one appeared the be in the shop. Remus and Y/n stood behind him as he let out a hesitant, “Hello.”

It took a minute, but then an older male appeared with hair as white as snow and wispy as whiskers. Ollivander smiled brightly at the familiar people in his shop and at the little boy who resembled the older female greatly. 

“Ah, Y/n Potter.” Ollivander said, “James broken his wand again?”

Y/n released a shaky breath, “No, not this time.” 

“We’re here actually for Harry here.” Remus motioned to Harry, “He’s getting his first wand. He starts at Hogwarts this year.”

Ollivander's lips quirked, “He yours?”

“No, sir.” Y/n shook her head, “He’s James and Lily’s son.”

“Where are they? I’d love to see them, you know.”

Remus shifted awkwardly, “You haven’t heard?”

Ollivander shook his head, “My parents are dead.” Harry informed, “Someone killed them.”

Everything clicked into place in Ollivanders mind. How stupid could old age make him? He had just sounded terribly insensitive, “‘M so sorry. Pardon me and my old age. I didn’t mean-“

“It’s perfectly fine, Ollivander.” Y/n smiled reassuringly.

The older man smiled and began giving Harry wands. The first one was horrid. It made wands on the shelf fall onto the ground, making a vast clatter noise. The boy smiled sheepishly and placed it back in the box. The next wand caused a shatter of a vase which Harry cringed at. It took a couple of minutes until Ollivander came out with the following wand. It was 11 inches long, made of holly, and possessed a phoenix feather core. 

Harry waved the wand, and nothing disastrous happened. Remus and Y/n smiled with joy. Ollivander charged him seven galleons for it, and Harry placed down the golden coins with glee. Ollivander could remember the way James had done the same while Y/n beside him. Their identical toothy grins as Fleamont paid the man.

“My wands cooler than yours!”

“No way!” 

James nodded in triumph, “You’re just lame.”

“And you’re boring!”

“No way!” James gasped, “I am far from boring!”

Y/n crossed her arms, “And I’m not lame.”

Euphemia chuckled, redirecting her children to look at the counter while the two parents stood behind them, “Ignore them. They like to try and be better than the other.”

Ollivander grinned, “Ah, siblings. What amazing pairs they make.”

Fleamont scoffed, “Yeah, try having two at the same time. Felt like the crucio curse.” 

“What do you say?” Euphemia beckoned, and both twins turned to Ollivander, smiling gleefully, “Thank you!” 

“They’ll be a handful.” Ollivander informed Euphemia and Fleamont, “But they’ll change the world, and they’ll do it together.” 

The older man smiled at Remus and Y/n as Harry went outside to see Hagrid carrying a giant golden cage with a beautiful snowy owl inside, “That boy is something else.”

Remus chuckled, “We know. Little mischief-maker, just like James.”

“Perhaps he is,” Ollivander replied, “But he’ll change the world.”

The rest of the day went by blissfully. After getting all his school supplies, they retreated into the Leaky Cauldron to eat dinner. The tavern was practically empty as they sat at a long narrow table. Hagrid at the head, Harry to his left, Remus across, and Y/n beside Remus on the other side. They were eating in silence before Harry spoke up. 

“What happened to my parents?” Harry questioned, and before anyone could answer, he continued, “Truthfully. No lies.”

Hagrid and Remus turned to the female at the table who swallowed thickly, “Something horrid, Harry.”

“How horrid?”

“Harry-“ Remus began. 

“A death I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, even my worse enemy.” Y/n answered, staring at the soup in front of her, “The way they died doesn’t matter.”

Harry crossed his arms, “I believe it does.”

“In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t.” Y/n replied, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to stay calm, “It doesn’t matter how they died. They’re dead, and they aren’t coming back.”

Tears collected in her eyes when she muttered, “No matter how badly I want them to.”

Hastily Y/n wiped her face and placed her napkin on the table. She sniffled before standing and pushing her chair in. Y/n leaned down to kiss Harry on the forehead before retreating to the room they got upstairs. Harry sighed and stared at his bowl of soup that remained steaming hot. Remus rubbed his face with his palms. 

“Harry,” Remus called, and Harry’s green eyes met similar ones, “Your parents died at the hands of a very evil Wizard. He went as dark as one could go.”

Harry looked intrigued, and Remus continued despite his throat beginning to constrict, “His name was Voldemort, but most people call him ‘You-Know-Who.”

Hagrid flinched at the actual name being said, “James risked everything to try and save you and your mother. When he died, Lily tried to save you. In the end, it all worked out because you were saved. You didn’t die like you were supposed to.”

“Why did aunt Y/n leave the table?”

“Talking about this is still hard for her.” Remus replied, and Harry could see the tears in his eyes too, “It’s hard for me too, but- but you need to know.”

“What were they to you?” 

“James and Lily were everything to me, Harry. Everything and so much more. Your mother saw the good in people when they didn’t see it themselves. Your father? Well-“ He chuckled, “He was a trip and a prat. But he cared for those around him. Treated me like family and took care of me like a brother.”

Harry fiddled with the sleeve of his sweater, “James was a mischief-maker that one.” Hagrid said, “Always up to no good.”

“Him and that Sirius boy.” Hagrid chuckled, “Dynamic duo those two.”

Remus let out a tearful chuckle, “Yeah, that was Padfoot and Prongs.”

“Always up to no good.” Remus whispered. 

The following day Remus had waken up to what he swore was the most perfect sight. Y/n was still sleeping beside him. Her head was nestled under his chin, drinking in his body heat. Her hair was laid against the fluffy white pillow. Their legs were intertwined together. Gently Remus kissed her forehead before seeing the clock read about nine o’clock. 

Remus took five more minutes to admire her before waking her up. He began to kiss all over her face, and Y/n scrunched her nose, waking up as his lips kept attaching to a new place on her face. He smiled as she opened her eyes to meet his green ones. 

“Mornin’ love.” 

His Welsh accent was to die for, “Morning, Rem.”

“You ready to take Harry to Platform Nine and Three Quarters?”

Y/n shook her head, “No. Not really.”

“Hey,” Remus said softly, stroking her hair, “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“There are so many memories there, Rem.” Y/n replied, “Like- Like meeting Sirius for the first time.”

“Or seeing you come back after fourth year with an entirely new style.” Remus chuckled, “Or- Or seeing James almost fall out of the train. 

Remus caressed her cheek with his thumb, “We’ll make it through, love. Harry needs us today.”

“Yeah.” She replied breathily, “He does.”

They both ventured out of bed into the cool air of London. Remus, Y/n, and Hagrid walked Harry to Kings Cross. When they arrived, Hagrid had departed from them to do something for Dumbledore. Harry was bluntly confused when his ticket read Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Last he checked, that wasn’t a platform. 

As they reached the main floor of the train station, Remus and Y/n recognized the Weasleys almost instantly. Molly had embraced them tightly as they all went through the platform. Harry gave his trunks to the man at the end of the train and turned to the only family he had left. His eyes glistened with tears, and he tried to hold them back but failed. 

“Harry,” Y/n knelt to his level, “You’re gonna be okay. I promise. James and I made lots of friends at Hogwarts.”

He smiled at the mention of his father, “Do you think… Do you think he’d be proud of me?”

“They’d be beyond proud, Harry.” Remus replied, smiling, “You’re everything they wanted you to be.”

Harry turned back to Y/n and hugged her tightly, “Please make sure you write to us.” 

“‘Course, Auntie.” Harry replied as they pulled apart, “Love you guys.” 

Y/n stood beside Remus, “We love you too, sweetheart.” 

Harry smiled and wiped his cheeks before hopping on the train. He found a compartment alone and watched out the window as the train began moving. Y/n and Remus watched as the train hauled by. Kids who started waving their last goodbyes to their parents. 

“Mum, dad!” James exclaimed from inside the compartment, “We love you!”

Euphemia and Fleamont chuckled tearfully, “We love you guys too!” 

Truthfully James never wanted to leave his parents. They were his entire world. When Kings Cross was no longer in sight, he plopped down in the seat beside Y/n, who put her head on his shoulder. His left arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her tightly to his side. 

“We got this, sis.” James assured, “We always have each other.”

It didn’t take long for Harry to get in trouble. As a matter of fact, it made Y/n laugh that within the first month, he had already managed a detention. She had settled for a letter rather than a Howler. Remus had made sure to tell him his fair of scolding words (“Say hi to Minnie for me!”). Harry smiled when the letter arrived in the morning. 

Harry definitely made sure to say hi to “Minnie,” which made McGonagall smile like an idiot despite her usual strict nature. She could see and hear James saying the name when she gave them detention or Sirius’ pouty face begging her to have some form of mercy on them, for they had just turned the Slytherin robes red. Ever the dramatics that Black. 

When he arrived back at the Platform, he nuzzled into Y/n and Remus’ arms before departing to the Dursleys. But all was good because in just a month he’d see them again for his birthday, which he did. They took him to Diagon Alley to get his second-year stuff along with some ice cream to celebrate his twelfth birthday. 

He spent a week of his summer with them in their little house in London. It was far better than Privet Drive, and he felt a lot safer. But after the week was up, he was forced to return to the Dursleys. Within a week of being back, he’d managed to screw everything up. A thing named Dobby had quite literally dumped puddling all over one of the Dursley’s guests, and that got him trapped in his room. 

Thankfully, Ronald Weasley, who had become his close friend, had saved him. Harry went to the Burrow for the first time and met everyone else. Molly had notified Remus and Y/n of his entrance. Sadly, they couldn’t make it to the Platform for reasons. Molly wouldn’t tell Harry, but he was okay with it. 

Until Ron and he smashed into the brick wall, making them late for the train. It was then Ron had a brilliant thought of taking the flying car to Hogwarts. It did work until they got stuck in the Whomping Willow and then got caught by Severus Snape. A letter was sent home to Y/n and Molly. Both of which made two very different Howlers to their children. 

Molly’s howler was scolding them, and it made Ron’s ears turn pink. Y/n and Remus’ howler was a different story. The moment it opened, laughter rang through the Great Hall. Familiar laughter of Remus and Y/n. It made McGonagall furious and happy at the same time. 

“Merlin Harry!” Remus’ voice rang out, “You’re brilliant, aren’t you!” 

“Remus, we’re supposed to be scolding him!” Y/n retorted jokingly, “I’m scolding myself for never thinking of it!” Remus replied. 

Y/n chuckled, “Obviously, you shouldn't have done that, Harry; however, as long as you’re not harmed, we aren’t mad. Just be more careful next time.”

Remus was still dying of laughter, “Remus is still dying of laughter. We love you, Harry. Stay safe.”

Ron looked appalled with the coolness of the howler, “Bloody hell, you have a cool family.”

“They’re pretty cool.” Harry shrugged, smiling. 

Y/n and Remus would be lying if the whole petrifying thing didn’t scare them. They were worried for Harry’s safety but weren’t surprised when Harry ended up saving them all like last year. When they were on the Platform, Remus began getting on the train with him after kissing Y/n goodbye. 

He was grunting and groaning at every movement. The bags beneath his eyes looked more prominent than usual. Remus moved sluggishly, which was very unlike him. But Harry didn’t question it until he began to get on the train at Harry’s side. 

“Uncle Moony?”

“Yes, Harry?” Remus replied after sitting in a compartment, his cloak covering most of his body. 

“Why’re you on the train?”

He chuckled, “I’m your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

Harry smiled, and Remus fell into a dreamless sleep after a rough full moon the night prior. Hermione and Ron joined them not too long after as Harry began telling them about Sirius Black. The year went by as eventful as usual. Harry found out the accurate way his parents died along with Remus and Y/n. Peter Pettigrew being the culprit and then leaving before someone could catch him. 

Afterward, Sirius had been staying in the guest bedroom at Y/n and Remus’. He didn’t want to go back to Grimmauld Place. That was the last place he wanted to go. So despite not wanting to be a burden, he took the position that Y/n offered him. Ever so kind, just like James. When he walked through those doors, Y/n had hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. 

“It’s good to have you back, older brother.”

Sirius could’ve cried on the spot, “It’s nice to see you again, little sis.”

The next couple of years were a trip. Fourth-year Harry had managed to get his name pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, leading to a new adventure of challenges. After finishing his fourth year, Cedric Diggory had died, marking the return of Voldemort, which had traumatized Harry in more than one way. That summer, he decided to stay with Y/n, Remus, and Sirius. They were all fantastic help throughout the entire thing. Through his nightmares, Y/n would make him hot chocolate and sit on the couch with him as he talked. 

Fifth-year was dreadful. Delores Umbridge had come into the office as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and the Order of the Phoenix reformed. Her detentions were terrible and horrid, especially for the first years. They were just kids, for Merlin’s sake. It made Y/n fume when she saw the back of Harry’s hand. The night they ventured to the Department of Mysteries was almost the worst night Harry could have dreamed of. 

Sirius had almost died if Y/n wasn’t as quick as she was. Bellatrix was stunned to see her spell deflected but kept firing nonetheless. When they got home, it was silent. Remus had made tea for himself and Sirius while making hot chocolate for the other two. Harry had laid his head on Y/n’s shoulder and fallen asleep. 

Truth be told, sixth year wasn’t any better. Dumbledore had died, and Harry was left to find the rest of the Horcruxes. It was then Sirius learned the actual death of his brother, making him mourn him all over again. Seventh year Harry, Ron, and Hermione ventured out to find the rest of them. 

When Harry returned to Hogwarts through the passageway to the Room of Requirement with Snape as headmaster, the war had officially started. In the end, everything had fallen into place. When Harry used the resurrection stone, he saw them. He saw James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius. Harry almost wanted to laugh at seeing them all together. They looked so happy. 

“Where- Where’s Y/n?”

Remus gave a solemn smile, “She made it. She’s still out there. Waiting for you.”

“Does that mean…”

“Turns out my sister is a tougher cookie than I thought.” James stated, and Harry turned to him, “She misses you.”

James chuckled, “As I do her.”

Harry turned back to Remus, “Does she know?”

“She was there when it happened.” Remus replied, “I had to give her one last ‘I love you’ and kiss goodbye, right?”

A noise rumbled from a distance, “It’s time, sweetie.” Lily stated. 

Harry released a shaky breath before dropping the stone on the ground. He had to do this for Y/n, for Ron, for Hermione, for everyone. He was ready. When he stepped in front of Voldemort to die, all he could think about was his Aunt's eyes. The way they glittered with tears when she let him go for the first time. The way they creased when she smiled at his first Christmas. The way they gleamed with mischief when she gave the Weasley twins new prank material. 

His last words would be ones he’d never regret, “Thank you, aunt Y/n, for everything.”

Because through everything, she was the only constant. She was the only one to hold him through anything. Through every nightmare, every battle, every tear, every smile. She was there with her radiant smile and caring nature. 

When Harry defeated Voldemort, the world stopped. It was done. It was over. But the pain wasn’t gone. The trauma wasn’t bypassed. This was more than a war. Harry walked into the Great Hall to see crying parents, kids, and siblings mourning their dead loved ones. His eyes zoomed on Y/n sitting crisscross beside her husband, holding his hand tightly. 

Wordlessly Harry sat beside her and leaned his head against her shoulder. Y/n tilted her head onto his. No tears fell from her eyes despite everything she had gone through, two wars, friends dead, parents dead, brother dead, and now husband dead. 

“His last words were- they were,” She choked, and Harry rubbed her shoulder, “I love you more than Moony loves the moon.”

Harry smiled, “Dad said you were a tough cookie.”

Y/n chuckled, and Harry relished in the sound, “He said that if anyone could get through this, it’s you.”

“Damn it, James.” She said to no one, still holding Remus’ hand. 

“We’ll get through this.” Harry said, “And we’ll do it together.”

“Together.”

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Meant to Be (Soulmate AU, the end.)

:) I know it's been a lot of time in between each chapter, but I'm glad I saw it through, I think it's a nice wrap-up to this.

Pacing her apartment, the girl, covered in little bruises still, slapped a palm to her forehead. Stupid, stupid! She'd just let him take off before they could even work anything out, no place, no time—what had she been thinking? 

"I am such an idiot," she moaned into her hands. As Raphael had instructed, she had, in fact, called the police once her strange rescuers fled from the scene, but the procedures that ensued from an assault case had occupied her for a few days. Three, it was; too long for her liking. She racked her brain trying to figure out how to find him again. And if she didn't, all she could do was hope he was the smarter of the two and would find her. 

Raphael. The corners of her mouth dared to smile a bit despite her current issue. That name suited him. 

It appeared that he'd lived a rough life in some capacity. There were scars on his face from God knew what, and he carried weapons and tough stride. Though, his colleagues were all a little different in appearance and gestures. Where did they rest their heads, she wondered. Not in a place like hers, clearly. And his clothes…

Yes, Raphael was gruff. But maybe just a little handsome, in a way—she blushed at the thought. You can't not remember that character. He looked like he could bench a truck. 

She'd lately been taking a cab home due to the incident, but there was only one place they could possibly convene: the alley. A dank, kinda dirty, rat-here-and-there kind of place. Or the rooftop, if she could even get up there.  Who wouldn't want to get to know their prince here, she thought sarcastically.

What do people usually do when they're getting to know their one true love? 

On the window sill her phone chimed twice, calling her over. She wandered to her window and gazed out. On the sidewalk below, a couple strode down the concrete, both holding a bag of takeout between them. And suddenly, she had an idea. 

Where exactly was that alley again? 

He jumped past one, thought it didn't look familiar and went on to the next. It was about the hour that they'd crossed paths and he felt rushed like he was running out of time, impatient as he was. Until his phone vibrated from his pocket and demanded his attention. 

The screen lit, Donnie's ID. He pursed his scarred lips and picked up. 

"Need some help?" asked Don in his cheeky way. Raph could see the smile across the phone.He'd been expecting some kind of nagging or squawking over his departure, but it was just Donnie trying to be helpful as usual. He would have to pay him back for the solid. 

"Sure," answered Raph. 

"Sending the location now. It should show up on your GPS. Oh, and don't worry about you-know-what." 

"Say what?"

Studying the address, he opened his mouth to speak, but Donatello was already cutting him off. "Gotta go, bye!"

"Don?" Raph said. The call ended and he stared at the address, puzzled. This was four blocks over and not where he remembered it to be. He wasn't that unobservant. It was the only real lead he had to go by, though, so he set off toward the new destination. 

He flipped over an AC unit and landed on the lip of a roof adjacent to the one that marked the tiny red dot on his phone, skidding to a stop at what he saw. 

Little candlelights littered around a blanket with white boxes and a couple of plates, the girl in question scuttling around trying to get things prepared. There was a container of some kind of sweet. Raph watched as she multiple times relit the same candle, only to have the breeze blow it out, followed by her anxious groan. She went back and forth with it until she gave up and fell back onto her rear. 

You're kidding me, Raph thought, scooting to cover. The whole display was a bit pitiful. Now he understood the mysterious address. But how did she know to come up there? Don't tell me Don contacted her? 

A typical dinner date with a mutant, stuck onto the top of a building to accommodate his...conditions. She didn't really think that was how it could go, right? That they could just sit down and have a meal together like nothing was wrong with that picture? It all seemed so wrong, too casual for what it was, false comfort. All of the candles went out and left her sitting alone in the dark, making her dig through her bag for her phone. 

She rubbed her forehead and leaned back onto her hands, looking all around her as if surveying the cityscape for something. Her foot was tapping more and more rapidly. Cracking open one of the boxes of takeout, notably, no steam rose. Raph felt a pang of pity.

It was awkward and he just couldn't understand the idea of hers, but never had anyone do anything like that for him. Not like I ever had 'em lined up to take me out to dinner. But after some consideration, for someone like him, he supposed that it was the thought that counted. It didn't make the approach any easier. He stepped out into sight and whistled curtly, holding up his hands as if to say he wasn't a threat. 

No, this ain't awkward or weird at all. Couldn't be, he mused with sarcasm. His long strides had him there a little quicker than he would have liked. He felt lumbering and intrusive.

"You're not serious, are ya?" he asked from the distance, eyeing the setup skeptically. She closed the gap between them as she fixed up everything and made it neat again. He waited for her to finish, shifting around on his feet.

She responded, "Your...brother told me to meet you up here. I don't even know how he got my number."

"He's got the means. And the fancy little dinner was his idea, too?" he snorted. 

Her face fell almost imperceptibly. Back it up, put it in reverse, he sighed to himself. Why was he like this? Why did he always have to say what he was thinking? 

"'Cause it just...seems like something...he'd do," he added reluctantly, wanting to wince. "That's Donatello for ya." A few uncomfortable seconds went by. He started to panic when she gave him a questioning look. "But I know he didn't, I'm just bein' an ass."

"You're not," she let a breath out, mustering a hesitant smile, "I know it's kind of stupid. I just thought that…" 

He rose a brow.

Sitting herself down on the blanket, she looked up at him, and his heart started to quicken. "You ever had takeout from here?" she asked in a soft tone, forcing a laugh. He knelt down rigidly. The whole thing was uncomfortably small for him. "I don't know what you guys eat in the sewers, but I figured that this was the least I could do. For us." 

He'd been opening up one of the boxes and inspecting the contents when his eyes went wide. "'Us'?" he parroted, dropping the  container and spilling some of the noodles. 

"No, no, no, not 'us' us, I meant as in, getting to know us, we—getting us to know each other," she stammered. "Sorry. No, that's not what I meant. I just thought it would somehow be less weird."

"You're sittin' across from a mutant turtle freak, don't you think that's weird?" he said. 

Raph could have let out a sigh of relief, but felt he wasn't out of the thick of it yet. 

He wasn't expecting the smile, the warm eyes. The "I don't think you're weird." he heard. 

Needing something to occupy himself with, he snatched one of the cans of cola and popped it open. Before he started to chug, he replied, "Sure, ya don't think I'm weird." 

"Okay, then I'm weird too," she said, tilting her head to catch his eye. He glugged the whole can of cola. 

"Oh, you're weird, alright," he chuffed as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "I mean, look at ya. Putting together all this so you can eat cold noodles with a giant turtle ya just met. Is this what you call 'fun'?"

"They'd still be warm if you'd gotten here earlier. And for the record, I am having fun," she said, dipping into her own food. "Come on, eat, Raphael. Please." 

He started to refute it, tried to get his guard back in place again, but his mind couldn't find the words. How badly he wanted to say "you're not having fun, you're just tolerating me," or "you're kidding yourself".

After a moment of squirming and trying to find something to bite back with, he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat. "Nah," he finally said. Then mumbled, "No way." 

"Way," she chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. Raph shook his head. 

A silence befell them. The self-consciousness was somehow worse when he was only being observed, which he knew by the gaze he could feel on himself past the chopsticks feeding noodles into his mouth. She can't possibly like what she sees. Get real. I'm gross. 

"Can you stop your starin'?" he eventually snapped, narrowly avoiding crushing the takeout box on the concrete beneath them. "Didn't your mom or whatever ever tell you that's rude?" 

It was pretty dark around them, but between talking and eating, she'd managed to keep a few of the candles lit. The warm glow it casted on her face didn't miss him, neither did her sheepish expression that held the possibility of a blush. She uttered an apology and averted her eyes. She couldn't have been looking upon him with any kind of joy. That's what Raph truly believed, at least. So why did it feel bad?

"I think I just can't stop looking at you, Raphael, truth be told," she said. His heart did skip that time. Oh, how he hated yielding.

He narrowed his eyes, "Whaddya mean?" 

"You've got a lot of scars," she mumbled, leaning in. Without the disgust he'd imagined she would. "And your eyes are pretty." 

"Pretty?" he scoffed. He was getting up, now. She scrambled onto her feet as well and reached out, just missing his arm. 

He'd yanked his arm away. She corrected herself, "They're not like anything I've seen!" 

Well, you don't have any business looking at me that close. 

"(Y/N)." 

Her smile left. He stood square before her as if on display. But his brow ridges were furrowed in, creating the intimidating visage she recognized as the first thing she'd ever seen of him. "What?" she asked. 

Motioning to all the stuff at their feet, he questioned, "What's all this for, really?"

"I–I don't think I understand." 

"You, doin' all this. Over some silly birthmark?" he pressed. "I can't figure out what's goin' on in your head and it makes me—" 

She interrupted him. He went still as she slowly took his hand and balled his shaking hand, cupping it in hers. Lightly trembling, not from anger, not from fear. Those trepidatious shakes he'd felt many times before, but never with another person. Never like that.

 "Confused? Mad?" she finished for him. All the words he couldn't quite find found themselves in the flutter of his stomach. They were caught on his tongue. 

She was wrong. That wasn't it. "No," he could finally say, his voice low. "I don't know."

It took two of her hands to wrap fully around one of his, but she wouldn't let go. Raph wouldn't dream of trying to tear away from her delicate grip. "Do you think we can figure it out together, then?" she inquired softly. 

"I...I don't—" 

Lifting his hefty hand, she planted a light kiss on his knuckle, feeling the rough skin on her lips. Raph was absolutely stunned and could not move. 

"I hope this tells you all you need to know," she stated, drawing away. Her back turned to him. The longest ten seconds of his life passed and he only regained the ability to move once she started to walk back to the stairwell, lunging forward to grab her shoulder before she caught the door. Careful to not hurt her.

Turning her around to him, he swallowed, "We ain't had dessert yet."

Raph never wanted to stop seeing her eyes shine like they did. 

He prompted them to sit down this time, his hand running down her arm as he leaned back. Even then he was too shocked to smile, or make any other face, for that matter. She simply smiled at him. 

"Right. Dessert," she winked. 

In the end, Raph still couldn't totally shake his  tough shell off. But he suddenly had the patience to try, just maybe, a lopsided grin forming as she divided the cake. 

"...and two for you, because you're a big guy…" 

He let her continue for a moment before getting closer. "Ya know, think I want to get to know ya without these stupid birthmarks, (Y/N)," said Raph with a smile that he didn't bother to hide. She glanced up at him, wondering. "So let's do it over again. I'm Raphael, but it's Raph to you." 

Taking her focus off the cake, she slid his plate to him. "Without the marks?" 

"Forget about 'em. We're strangers." 

She laughed sweetly, "Then I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Raph." 

After that, they shook on it over dessert, and marked the night that the walls Raphael had put up began to crack.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I'm sorry but i'm addicted to our boy Spamton- I have a little unique request here. So this takes place where Spamton just moves in the Queen's mansion, he meets the reader and immediately falls for their kind words and gestures. Weeks pass, and he goes to see them, but catches them talking and hanging out with Swatch.. He gets really jealous to the point of changing his style to match Swatch's

"Oh [y/n]! Have You Met Our Newest Guest?"

"Uh, I don't believe-"

"He's An Interesting Addison Who Made A Big Name For Himself! Ohohoho!" Queen laughed joyously, pausing to sip her glass of battery acid. "I Wonder How He Got So Rich...No Matter. As My Peon, I Order You Greet Him......Whenever It's Convenient For You."

"Sure thing. I'll go now." With a respectful nod, you set off to the mansion's guest chambers to meet this newcomer. You've lived here for a long time--and somewhat reluctantly since Queen decided to make you one of her peons one day. But life was actually pretty good.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do, so if she needed someone to help her with plans that..didn't seem all-that urgent, you'll offer your assistance. She let you stay in the mansion for free and never made you do anything if you weren't feeling up to it.

For a tyrannical ruler she was rather kind.

Yet you didn't wanna take advantage of her hospitality, so you'd just listen to whatever she says. And if she wants you to meet this celebrity as part of her endless lists of requests, then you'll happily oblige. But you were eager too since you've seen his face on TV a lot. It felt like an honor.

After wandering the corridors of deactivated puzzles, Mona Lisa-esque portraits, and meticulously-placed pottery, you finally arrived at the guest rooms. You hummed a small tune as you passed by each one, stopping when you noticed one door was open.

Peeking inside, you saw the Addison still setting up things. A phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he moved a box whilst rambling to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yea! I promise I won't let you down, okay? Soon I'll be bigger than ever before! I know I'm already a big shot but....haha, yeah, I shouldn't get carried away. Okay. Right..we'll discuss more of this tomorrow. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone and returning it to the receiver, he finally noticed you and smiled. "Hey, hey! Haven't seen your face around here yet. But surely you know mine, right?"

"Yeah." You smiled, not wanting to shy away from talking with him. "Spamton, right?"

"Everybody's favorite number-one rated salesman!!" He laughed. "It's good you know me..'cuz soon ALL of Cyber World will know my name! It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

"[Y/n]. I'm one of Queen's peons." You shook his hand politely. The energy that radiated from him was so bright. Just as much as his pearly smile was.

Stepping inside, you glanced around at the luxurious furniture. He definitely got the higher-class rooms, with the addition of a large window that showed the neon green meridians that stretched across the night sky. It was certainly a beautiful view to fall asleep to. "Need help unpacking?"

"Oh--sure!!" At first Spamton seemed surprised by your offer, but he nodded. "If you want, be my guest. And while we unpack, I gotta ask you..how's it being Queen's peon?"

............

Weeks passed, and you've gotten to know Spamton more and more. You realized he was actually a sweet down-to-earth guy all around. Although he was on the phone a lot, he'd make time to hang out with you, so you two became fast friends.

He was truly living the best life. Posters of his car advertisements were littered all over the city, and the Swatchlings attended to his every need. Though one thing was hard to admit, even when it seemed like he had it all:

You were his only friend now that everyone else is intimidated by his status--as they would shy away from conversing with him--and the Addisons, well, abandoned him out of jealousy.

Obviously that made him worry about driving you away, especially when he's on the phone nonstop. But...the fact you've been so kind to him in every word and gesture, treating him like a regular person and not some untouchable celebrity, was quite endearing. Most admired him for his products, not his personality.

Your kindness made him fall for you hard and fast, ever since day one. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea; to let it get in the way of his business.

But what the hell? He was a big shot! He can afford to go a bit bigger and take more risks. Living in this mansion with someone who loved him would be the perfect dream.

There was a much bigger dream that his valued caller insisted he focused on, but that can come later.

So this morning, Spamton set out to find you to address these feelings once and for all. Yet he was rather nervous. Addisons were most confident in selling products, not so much...everything else. But he didn't wanna back down. He kept smiling no matter what.

As he checked inside the color café that he usually frequented, he saw you eating at the table. He noticed you weren't alone but with Swatch, talking and...

Laughing with them?

And just like that, his smile faded much like his hope.

Of course, the head butler had their ways to swoon people. He tried not to think of it as anything more than just their personality. It's just their way to entice returning customers.

That's all...right?

Spamton ducked behind one of the displays, listening in on your conversation to determine if he should proceed or not.

"By the way, we've known each other for a while and..I've always wanted to ask you something.."

"Yes? What is your inquiry?"

He held his breath. This is exactly what he feared. Knowing that you've been here longer, it's obvious you'd be closer to that damn bird-

"Your outfit."

Then he exhaled shakily, relieved. 'What are you getting so worked up for, idiot?' He thought in the back of his mind, but he continued eavesdropping.

"Did the Queen make it or give it to you? It's very stylish and really makes you stand out from the other Swatchlings."

"Ah, in fact I decided this look for myself." Swatch chuckled softly, raising a wing to adjust their glasses. "The tailor did marvelous work with my vision: black suit, tinted glasses. Very fashionable, is it not?"

"It is. I like it a lot."

"Why thank you. I see why our Lady Grace admires you. Just for that compliment, I'll give you a discount on any of our products in the gift shop."

"Should be every day if you ask me." You joked, earning another chuckle from them.

Seeing all of this and the way you two spoke like close friends was a jab in Spamton's heart-shaped object. 'So [y/n] likes people who stand out? Well I can stand out, too..' He thought bitterly as he stormed out of the shop without either of you knowing he was there.

Why should he settle with being a blank-slate Addison like the rest of them? He didn't consider himself one anymore.

Today, he told his valued caller, he was gonna be a whole new person.

It would help him get closer to both of his dreams, but there was only one on his mind now.

............

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You huffed in annoyance, assuming Queen needed you for something.

She had a knack for disturbing you at ungodly hours. But knowing better than to ignore her, you went to answer the door anyways-

To some strange black-haired guy in a black suit and white turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, um...can I help you?"

"[Y/n]? It's me."

"....wait....Spamton?"

"Yeah!" The salesman laughed, throwing his arms out and making a pose. "Whatdya think of me now?"

Perplexed, you looked him up and down. He ditched the lime-green pants, instead wearing white trousers. And his hair was slicked back. But what was most peculiar about him were his glasses, tinted with pink and yellow lenses.

Had you not known any better, you would've thought Swatch suddenly shrunk and became robotized.

"Cool but..you kinda look like Swatch a little bit. Was that on purpose?" You mused.

"...haha....yeah uh..funny story. Um.." He dropped the act, losing his trademark grin as he wondered how to explain himself and this sudden transformation. You could tell he wanted to talk inside the room, so you let him in and shut the door.

"I don't recall Queen mentioning any costume contest-"

"It's not a costume." He muttered, uncomfortably rubbing his hands together as he looked at you with sadness. "This is who I am now. The new me."

"..huh? You serious?" When he nodded, you frowned slightly. "I'm confused. You don't look like an Addison anymore-"

"That's the point...! I...I don't wanna be associated with them anymore. I decided to stand out, y'know? If you're gonna be a big shot, ya gotta stand out from the crowd!" He forced a laugh that sounded rather glitchy.

You didn't buy it. It wasn't like him to do this out of the blue.

"Spamton, why imitate Swatch of all people? And why out of the blue like this? I mean..I don't mind if you like their style. But I didn't even recognize you until you spoke."

Try as he might, he couldn't make any better excuses. So seeing that he was cornered made him finally admit his jealousy, overhearing your conversation with Swatch while he was browsing--when he really wasn't, but he didn't wanna come off as creepy.

His voice glitched further due to stress, accidentally blurting out some kind of...flirtatious term as he explained how much you meant to him since day one.

You weren't sure if he meant to say "hot single" on purpose. Though you were flattered that such a famous guy like him...actually had a crush on you, an ordinary Darkner who just fetched the Queen's stick wherever she threw it.

You found it hard to believe he thought of you that way..so you kept your own feelings buried. So to see that it's mutual was a relief, and it made you smile.

Spamton, on the other hand, was stressing the hell out. So much so he didn't even see your smile. He just saw himself being stupid the more he rambled on.

It was such a stupid, stupid reason to get insecure--to the point of changing his entire appearance without warning. All because you were friends with a butler who was doing their job???

How selfish can he get when he already had everything he wanted and more?

When he did acknowledge your small smile, he thought you were holding yourself back from laughing. But you had every right to laugh and call him a joke for thinking this will get your attention.

As he finished talking, he could see your smile fade and huffed. He waited for you to tell him how stupid he looks and to go back to being the plain old Addison you met.

Instead of ridiculing him you...hugged him?

At this point you were sitting on the bed together. Of course yours wasn't as massive as his was, but it was big enough for you two to share.

"Spammy, I'm flattered you like me in that way but...you didn't have to do all of this to get my attention. I promise there's nothing going on between Swatch and I. We're just friends. They're not replacing you or anything."

"I know, it's just.." Taking off the glasses, he set them aside before hugging you tightly, head buried in your chest. "I don't wanna lose the only person in this damn place who makes me feel like myself. Who loves me for me, not my success. And...I-I felt like I had to change something about myself to make sure of that."

"Well..you don't need to change anymore. I love you no matter what you look like."

He blinked, his face turning as red as his cheeks.

You could sense his embarrassment from the way he tensed up in your arms and chuckled, patting his hair softly. "Just..don't feel pressured to change for me..or anybody for that matter, okay? Or at least let me know if you're gonna change things up again."

"You don't think..I look stupid or creepy like this?"

"No. Honestly you look pretty handsome. Black hair suits you well."

Hearing those words made him breathe a small sigh of relief. He nodded and hugged you tighter.

His new looks were staying for good.

[heliads]

Rainstorm

Y/N and Newt have been best friends ever since she arrived in the Glade. However, she might find that her feelings over the blond boy have changed, especially after the events of a rainy day.

masterlist

There’s a great clamoring around you, the tearing and shrieking of metal. You feel like your head is being pounded by an anvil, and you clap your hands to your skull, desperate to stop the pain. You realize you’re moving, the floor beneath you swaying as it is dragged up by some unseen chain. There are boxes around you, crates of something that you can’t see in the dark. The worst part isn’t the echoing din, or the insufferable darkness lit by sporadic bursts of fluorescents. The worst part is that you have no idea how you got here.

After a couple of seconds, you force yourself to stand up straight and look around. There are boxes littering the ground, yes, but you’re in a larger box yourself. Is that what this lurching, moving metal room is? There are four walls and a ceiling that seems to press in on you with every waking second. Just as you come to this conclusion, the room stops moving with a sudden jolt that sends you to the ground. Panic crests over you and you throw yourself to the edge of the room, hiding behind the stacks of boxes just as the ceiling is lifted away.

Bright, overwhelming sunlight flows into the room like a wave. You squint, careful not to make a sound even as your eyes water from the sudden light. You can see the dim silhouettes of a group of people standing over the room, looking in on you. They must not see you, because you can hear dim snatches of conversation being tossed back and forth in the space above you. “Shouldn’t there be a greenie? Where’s the new kid?” You have no idea what a greenie is, but you do have a sickening feeling that they’re expecting someone, someone who will turn out to be you.

After another moment of indecision, a boy jumps down into the room, causing the floor to shake slightly from the impact. He peers between the crates. Your breath comes harsh in your chest as you realize he must be looking for you. Your hand closes around something in an open box, and as you pull it out slowly, you realize your fingers are clenched around the grip of a knife. It’s not much, but at least you have a weapon.

The boy calls out to you now. “Hey, we know you’re there. There’s always someone in the Box. You can come out now, we’re not going to hurt you.” He takes a couple of steps closer, and you realize there’s no getting out of this. Might as well use the advantage of surprise while it’s still in your court. You stand up suddenly, stepping away from the shelter of the boxes. You point your knife towards the boy’s throat. For a second, the two of you stand there- you with your blade, him with a look of surprise coating his eyes.

Now that you’re both standing in the sunlight, you can see more of him. This boy has light dirty blond hair and warm brown eyes. His hands rise by his sides the second he sees your knife. “Hey, there’s no need for that. We’re not trying to hurt you.” Then his brow furrows and he takes a step forward, surprise overwhelming his previous hesitation. “Wait. You’re a girl.” You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be a girl?” The boy glances up at the silhouettes of the others still standing over the box. “Back off, guys. She’ll be fine.”

He looks back at you. “Let’s start this over. My name is Newt. You’re in the Glade now, with a few other shanks. I’m just surprised because they’ve never sent a girl up before, that’s it. Now, can you please put down the knife? What would you do with it, anyway?” You keep the blade up, feeling slightly defensive. “I could use it.” Newt lowers his hands, humor outweighing any sense of self-preservation. “For what?” You gesture with the blade. “To, I don’t know, stab someone. It’s a knife, what else would I do?”

Newt grins. “Maybe not stab me? We’re going to be here for a while, I’d appreciate it if you didn't kill me immediately.” You lower the blade at last, reaching over to put it back in a nearby box. “I’ll consider it.” Newt offers you a hand to help you out of the Box. “Can I help you up? You can trust me, you know.” You consider him for a second, taking in everything you know about the boy. He looks at you encouragingly, smiling with all the peaceful freedom of a dove, and you relent. After a second, you stand blinking in the sunlight, turning in a slow circle to stare at the massive walls surrounding you. “What is that?” Newt comes to stand beside you. “That’s the Maze. Keeps us all stuck in here. Once a month, the Box sends up some new sap. This time it’s you.”

You glance around you at the other boys pretending to do their work. “There’s not that many people here. How long has this been going on?” Newt shrugs. “I’m not entirely sure. Maybe six months or so? Alby’s been here longest, he’ll have a better answer. Alby’s in charge here, by the way. I’m second in command.” You nod. “And you really don’t have any other girls here? That’s awful.” Newt laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I have a feeling you’re going to fit in just fine around here.”

Newt, as it turns out, is right. You talk and laugh with the other Gladers like you’ve known them your entire life. Conversation flows freely that first day, and after a few hours, you already remember your name, taking joy in turning it over in your head like a smooth stone from the river. You make fast friends with Minho, the runner, after he hears the story of how you nearly stabbed Newt back in the Box. Alby talks Glade politics with you, Gally seems to tolerate you far more than the others. However, your closest friendship will always be with Newt.

Maybe it’s because he was the first friendly face you saw, the reason you ever agreed to enter into the Glade at all. Maybe it’s because Newt hands away his trust like a gift, free of charge. You couldn’t stray from him if you tried. You exchange quick chats and stupid jokes in between shifts, and you find that you look forward to every minute shared with the blond second-in-command.

One day, Newt and his track-hoes are forced to give up their gardening to retreat underneath haphazard awnings from an encroaching rainstorm. Even the builders have hurried away, trading in their bricks and wooden slats for the dry cover of the few buildings in the Glade. You lean against a tree conveniently growing underneath a cloth shelter, eyes alight as you watch the rain pour down over the Glade. A faint smile plays on your lips. Newt walks up beside you, an eyebrow raised as he takes in your peaceful expression.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone look this happy over a bloody thunderstorm. We’re all forced indoors and we can’t do anything, and you look like someone’s just won you a million pounds.” You turn to face him, grinning. “I just think it’s nice. You’re the track-hoe, I thought you’d be happier about it. If it doesn’t rain, all your plants die. Honestly, we should both be celebrating.” Newt shakes his head in horror. “You’re ridiculous. I mean, look at Gally. He seems like he’s going to kill somebody just because of a few clouds.”

You reach out a hand, feeling the burst of the fat raindrops against your palm. “You want me to be like Gally and hate everything in the world? Not a chance.” Newt watches you, an amused expression entertaining itself on his lips. “I’m not asking for that, I’m asking you to stop looking so excited about a rainstorm. You’re making the rest of us look like miserable downers.” You grin at him. “Maybe you are. Have you considered that?”

You crane your head out from the awning, gazing up as the drops rain down upon you. “I’m going out there. Come with me.” Newt scoffs. “And be soaking for the rest of the day? Not a chance.” You look at him, a mock pout tainting your eyes with incredible sorrow. “It’ll be fun. Not everyone has to be a miserable downer, you know.” You reach out to grab his hand and pull him into the rain, but Newt dodges your grasp. Instead, your hand darts down to his pocket, and you steal his prized pocketknife, holding it up teasingly before him. Newt lunges for it, but you run out into the rain-drenched clearing, forcing you to run after him.

Newt’s carried this one knife around with him for what feels like forever. He uses it for everything- gardening, threatening greenies, lending it to Chuck for the boy’s latest carving project. It won’t rust in the rain, but it will be important enough to him so that he’ll follow you out into the storm, away from his shelter. You sprint through the clearing, Newt chasing after you. You can hear him shouting. “You’re a terrible friend, Y/N, you know that?” You risk a glance backwards, feeling a laugh bursting on your tongue when you realize he’s only a few feet away from you. “That’s just mean!”

Eventually, he catches up to you, reaching out an arm to stop you in your tracks. You come to an abrupt stop, still doing your best to hold the knife away from him. Newt laughs to see your last-ditch efforts. “You’re insane, you know that? Absolutely insane.” You beam at him, feeling the rain pour down over you. “Maybe so.” Newt lunges for the knife and the sudden shift in balance makes you slip on the soaking wet grass. Newt leans over, catching you, and for a second you feel like you’re frozen in that moment, his arms around your waist and the rain pounding around you.

Then he’s straightening up, knife held triumphantly in his palm. “Told you I’d get it back.” You grin at him. “That wasn’t the point. We’re both out here now.” Newt looks up, as if finally realizing that you’ve goaded him into leaving the tent. He tosses a playful glare your way. “I thought we were friends.” You laugh. “We are. That’s why we’re having such a good time.” You tilt your head up towards the sky, taking in the crisp, clear freshness of the rain. Newt groans, but you can see the smile he’s unsuccessfully trying to hide. “Maybe it isn’t that bad. Not all of it.”

When you look back, you see his smile, the rain pressing his hair against his face. You can feel your own breath coming sharply in your chest after the running, the cool of the rain against the heat in your cheeks. You’ve never felt this way around him, and you can’t figure out what it means until that night, when you lie awake for hours, mind still turning around the storm from earlier. The truth comes to you after a while, letting itself in without so much as a knock. You love Newt, no matter how much you’d like to hide it. 

The only problem is that Newt would never feel the same way about you. He constantly refers to you as his friend, even his best friend, and that’s all you’ll ever be. The fault lies solely with you, for falling in love with such a sunbeam of a boy and expecting that he’d look back at a matchstick of a girl, someone who’d light up only to die out seconds later. The only thing you can do is try to get over your little crush, hoping you can snuff it out like a candle.

This proves to be more difficult than you’d thought. Your first attempt is to just forget the whole thing ever happened. This plan runs into the ground as soon as you look at him the next morning, and feel all of your heart’s pounding rush over you. Your only idea after that is to edge slightly away from him. Maybe the distance will keep your mind from turning to him, from falling in love so easily. You still sit with him at mealtimes with all your other friends, but you don’t run to him at every break. Honestly, this is for the best. He probably thought you were too clingy anyway, this is just making things even better.

Yet it still hurts when you feel his absence, like a phantom limb that should have always stayed by your side. Maybe you’re just kidding yourself, but you could swear that Newt looks for you when you’re not there, like there’s a one in a million chance that he just might feel the same way. After about a week of this, you’re sitting in a quiet, empty part of the Glade on a rest break when Newt approaches you. He doesn’t say anything at first, just sits down right next to you. From the second you saw him, you noticed the crease in his brow, the look of unhappiness that seemed to permeate his every movement. Whatever he’s about to say, it won’t be good.

Newt fixes you with a quiet stare. “Why are you avoiding me?” The question, so blunt and straight-forward, demands an answer. You’re not sure that you want to provide one, so you try to steer away from his interrogation. “What are you talking about? We sit at the same tables at meals. We talk all the time, actually. We’re talking right now.” It’s a nothing answer, and Newt knows it. “We’re talking now because I came up to you. We used to spend a lot more time together, and then you decided that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s not what I thought at all! I-” You break off, wishing you could hold your tongue for once in your life. You almost gave it all away. Newt sees this sudden silence and presses it. “You what? I was closer to you than I was to anyone else in the Glade, and now I barely see you a couple of times per day. There’s always a reason, Y/N, and I would like to know why.” You sigh, but keep your mouth shut. Maybe he’ll hate you right now, but it will be better than the disappointment and even disgust when he finds out that someone he sees as a sister has fallen in love with him.

Newt’s voice is quiet. “I guess this was a mistake. You what, regretted all of this? You’re trying to pretend that we were never friends?” Your eyes flash. “I never regretted a thing. I loved you, and it was a stupid mistake that I’m trying to fix. Is that what you wanted to hear?” There’s silence for one heartbeat, two. You look away, furious with yourself. Then there’s a hand on your cheek, guiding your face back to his. Newt’s lips are on yours now, and you stifle a gasp of surprise.

At last, he breaks away, a smile dancing across his face. “You could have said that a lot earlier, you know.” You stare at him. “You liked me? You actually-” Newt chuckles softly. “Have for a while. I was trying to tell you, but you made it so bloody difficult sometimes.” You feel like you can’t think straight. “I can’t believe I never figured that out.” Newt’s smile is intoxicating. “I’m glad you know now. Makes it a lot easier to do this.” When he kisses you again, it’s even more breathtaking than the first.

[seijorhi]

A Thousand Words

as promised, a Valentine’s Day fic 💕 

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

TW implied dub/non-con, cheating, minor choking/abuse, nsfw(ish)

You break up with Iwaizumi two weeks before Valentine’s Day, standing in the doorway of the apartment you share with him.

And you hate that it still hurts, still tugs at the wretched, broken strings of your heart to watch that rare, beautiful smile of his fracture like glass, confusion giving way to disbelief and then finally anguish.

Iwa’s never been the best with his words, but it seems that you’ve robbed him of those too as you tell him that your relationship’s over. He just stands there, wide eyed, agonised as you shove your phone – the proof – into his face, a hoarse, strangled whisper of ‘why’ leaves his lips. 

It seems that it’s all that he’s capable of.

There’s nothing for him to say anyway. You don’t want his apologies or his excuses. The pictures are evidence enough. 

A boys weekend, he’d told you, and you’d trusted him. You loved him. He wasn’t like your ex, Iwa would never deliberately do anything to hurt you. 

He knew what fidelity meant to you.

You’d thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him, but those pictures are enough to show you what a fool’s dream that was. Iwa, naked in bed, wrapped around some other woman.

Sleeping so peacefully, curled up by her side, like he’d done with you a thousand times.

And it doesn’t matter whether he was drunk or not. It doesn’t matter if he knew her or paid for her or found her at some fancy fucking bar downtown. He cheated on you, he broke your heart and he doesn’t get to watch you fall apart in front of him.

You save your tears until the door swings shut, collapsing onto the floor with a heartbroken wail as the man you love walks away.

—

Iwaizumi doesn’t remember much of that night. He’s never been a lightweight, but the drinks they were knocking back would’ve been enough to take out the best of them. And Iwa didn’t have to worry, not when he was out with friends. 

God knows they’d gotten him into so much shit when they were younger and stupider, but between the four of them they’ll stop each other from doing anything too damaging. They have careers now (most of them, anyway) and reputations to protect. And Iwa had you.

Out of everything; his career, his reputation, his livelihood, you were the one thing Iwa wouldn’t risk fucking up.

The night itself is a hazy, incomprehensible blur, but he does remember the girl. Not her name or where she came from, but he remembers her. A pretty face with a sultry smile, wearing some short, tight, shimmering dress. He remembers her sitting on Oikawa’s lap, fingers carding through his hair, red lips kissing at his jaw.

And he remembers Oikawa lounging back in his seat, barely paying the poor girl an ounce of attention, even when her hand started to run teasingly up his thigh, those same sinful lips whispering into his ear.

How the girl managed to find her way from Oikawa’s lap to his hotel bedroom is beyond him, but the pictures don’t lie. It’s his arm wrapped around her waist, her skin littered with love bites and fingerprint shaped bruises.

It was her mouth he’d woken up to, trailing a slow, teasing path up along his chest. He’d shoved her aside, snapped and snarled until the pretty thing welled up with tears and all but fled, leaving him to fall back into the sheets full of self loathing and disgust, wondering how he could possibly have fucked up this badly.

And when he threw up later, hurling until there was nothing left in his stomach, he knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d drunk.

Iwa hadn’t known that anybody knew, hadn’t thought that there was proof – not until you were shoving it in his face, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep your tears at bay. And what could he say? 

It was a mistake?

He was drunk?

Iwa doesn’t make excuses, you deserve more than that. You deserve more than him.

He should’ve fallen to his knees and begged – begged you through tears if he had to – for you to give him a second chance. But the words stuck in his throat, because the look of absolute, utter heartbreak on your face felt like a fist driving into his gut, and he wasn’t sure if he even deserved it.

You break up with him two weeks before Valentine’s Day, entirely unaware of the ring he’s been carrying around in his pocket for almost a month now, and Iwaizumi doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

So he does the only thing he can, and calls Oikawa.

—

Moving your things out of the apartment you’d spent the last year and a half sharing with your boyfriend – your ex-boyfriend – takes less time than you think. The life you’d started to build with him, packed up in nice neat little boxes in only a few hours.  

And you’re grateful that he’s not there. He’d messaged you to tell you that he wouldn’t be, the only contact you’d had with him since breaking up. 

It’s not the pictures on the nightstand, Iwa’s strong arms wrapped around you, a dopey little grin on his face that gets to you – it’s the World’s Best Boyfriend mug he’d bought you as a joke one day, the old hoodie of yours that was actually his, the one you’d worn half to death because it was warm and smelled like him. 

It’s hard enough to do this without him hovering over you, but stupidly you’d forgotten that while Iwa had promised not to be there, he wasn’t the only one with a key to your shared apartment.

The lock clicks and the door swings open just as you’re finishing up in the bedroom and for one single, split second, your heart jumps into your throat.

But the brunette that saunters in isn’t the one you’re still in love with, and you’re quick to brush away the tears on your face before he can see.

Before he can mock you for it.

Oikawa, ever the charmer, merely grins when he catches sight of you. 

“Did Iwa send you to supervise?” you say in lieu of a proper greeting, the words slightly more bitter than you intend – even for him. 

He isn’t bothered by it, his grin widening just a fraction as he turns and settles down on the bed, long legs stretched out, ankles casually crossed over. He looks entirely too comfortable there and it’s an effort not to bristle.

“Well hello to you too,” he says, his voice a teasing lilt. “Are you always this fun in the mornings?”

Your brows draw together in a frown, but just as you open your mouth to snap a retort, his palms come up in a gesture of mock surrender. “No, Iwa did not send me to supervise you. He doesn’t know I’m here, actually.”

“Then why are you here? To gloat?” you spit.

Oikawa’s eyes glitter, amusement tugging at his lips. You love Iwaizumi, and for his sake you’ve spent the past few years tolerating the constant, overbearing presence of his best and oldest friend. Oikawa, on the other hand has never made all that much of an effort to hide the fact that he doesn’t exactly approve of your relationship with his friend.

Oh, he’s never outwardly rude or hurtful. He doesn’t sit there and spew abuse at you, and as far as you know he hasn’t tried to sway Iwa into leaving you since the very early days of your relationship, but Oikawa doesn’t need to be overt to make his feelings clear.

He treats you like a one night stand that hasn’t quite gotten the hint that it’s time to fix your dress and move right along. 

You still haven’t forgotten the night you all went out to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, how he’d slid into Iwa’s empty seat the moment he’d slipped out to get another round of drinks and spoken so casually, as if it was nothing but a friendly conversation. Small talk. 

“You know it won’t last; you and Iwa.”

And you hadn’t said a word, not wanting to be baited into fighting – into ruining Iwa’s night. You hadn’t even scowled at him, just sat there, pretending that he didn’t exist as you waited for your boyfriend to come back to you. 

“You’re cute together, I’ll give you that much,” he’d mused, swallowing the last mouthful of his beer. He’d studied you from beneath long lashes for a moment; a sharp, lingering look entirely at odds with the easy, relaxed tone of his voice. “But you two aren’t a good match. You don’t belong with him.”

You never did figure out exactly what you’d done to make him dislike you so much, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. 

Not when he’s finally proven himself to be right. 

“Please,” he says with a scoff, rolling those pretty eyes of his, “as if I’d be so immature. I’m just here to make sure you don’t steal the coffee machine – it’s so much better than the one I have at home.”

He spends the next half hour trailing you from room to room, looking entirely too delighted at your misery. It’s almost a relief when you slip into the bathroom just for a moment’s fucking peace, brushing angrily away at the tears that still haven’t left you.

You almost – almost – reach for your phone to message Iwa and tell him to call off his stupid, infuriating friend, except you’d left it lying on the kitchen bench.

—

His head hurts. An incessant pounding, throbbing ache that makes him want to hurl.

Rationally, he’d known that the cure for the monstrous hangover he’d given himself wasn’t going out for a run at five in the morning, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was either that or keep drinking, and considering it was the alcohol that had gotten him into this fucking mess in the first place…

“I need to fix this,” he groans, dropping his head into his hands, letting his fingers roughly run through the tangles of his hair. “I need to fucking fix this.”

He looks like shit, feels like shit, but he can’t bring himself to care, not even as a solid weight drops itself onto the couch beside him. 

“You need to give her space, Iwa,” Oikawa comments with a sigh, passing him a glass of water that he gratefully chugs. “Give her time to figure things out. She’s hurting, and you constantly harassing her won’t do you any favours in trying to win her back.”

He wants to see the truth in his friend’s wisdom. He knows he hurt you, he knows he fucked up, but–

You’d already moved your things out.

He’d known that, of course he had, but coming home to see every trace of you just gone was like a gut punch. He was gonna marry you, get down on one fucking knee in front of everybody and– and now you’re gone and he’s crashing in his best friend’s spare bedroom because the thought of going home without you there is too fucking painful for him to bare.

And he only has himself to blame for it. 

But you’re his future, the only one he really gives a damn about, and he’s not one to just give up and walk away. Iwa doesn’t care if it takes weeks or months, he doesn’t care if he has to spend the rest of his life making this up to you; he will. 

He can’t just let you go. 

Oikawa continues to try and talk sense beside him, but he’s barely paying attention, only offering a small grunt of acknowledgement when he feels the brunette’s eyes studying him. He knows that he’s only trying to help, but he can’t honestly remember the last time Oikawa bothered to introduce him to one of the girls hanging off his arm. He knew as well as his friend did that there wasn’t much point – they wouldn’t be sticking around for long. Fuck, he doesn’t think that Oikawa’s ever had a serious relationship in his life, so excuse him if he’s a little hesitant to take his advice as gospel.

And Oikawa doesn’t know you like Iwaizumi does. He doesn’t understand you, doesn’t see what Iwa does when he looks at you. You’re like… sunlight. There’s no other way he can describe it. It’s cheesy and stupidly sappy, he’d rather be shot than admit it out loud, but he’s never met another person so–so… radiant. You burn bright, and Iwaizumi can’t help but be drawn to you – your warmth and your softness and everything about you. You’re beautiful and caring and you’re home and he’s terrified that if he waits too long, somebody else is gonna see that and snatch you up for themselves and he won’t even be able to blame them for it.

He knows he fucked up, knows that you probably (rightfully) hate him, but he has to try. 

So he ignores the way that Oikawa huffs and rolls his eyes when he reaches for his phone, opening up your last conversation.

Please, can we talk? I know you don’t want anything to do with me right now but I’m begging you. Just ten minutes?

And his heart pounds against his ribcage so violently that he thinks he might be sick as he waits for it to send. Waits for the little ‘Read’ notification to pop up.

And waits.

And waits.

Error. Message failed to send.

He tries again, distinctly aware of the Oikawa’s watchful, curious gaze peering over his shoulder.

Error. Message failed to send.

There’s a sinking feeling in his gut and in his panic, he presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear with a sick feeling in his stomach.

It doesn’t even ring, there’s just three beeps and the line disconnects.

You’ve blocked his number.

—

You second guess yourself with every step, but you don’t stop and you don’t turn around. 

The radio silence from your ex had been a little unexpected, but you’d been the one to tell him in no uncertain terms that the two of you were done.

You were the one to make a point of moving out, keeping the few messages you’d exchanged short and to the point. Were you expecting him to fight you on it? Blow up your phone with messages and voicemails begging you to come back? Maybe show up at your door demanding that you hear him out and give him another chance. 

Were you maybe just the tiniest bit disappointed that he hadn’t? 

It wasn’t remotely fair to expect that of him, you know that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart had leapt into your throat the moment his message had come through after days of nothing.

Can we talk face to face? I need to see you. 

Two sentences, that was it. And you’d spent the better part of an hour debating whether or not you should reply.

Because you love him still, despite it all. 

The last person you’d given a second chance to had used that chance to walk all over you. He’d broken your heart, your trust, and any semblance of self worth you’d had. Iwaizumi had been the one to build you back up afterwards. 

And now he’d done the same thing. Knowing what you’d gone through before, and it gutted you.

The date on the calendar hasn’t slipped your attention. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you’d spent all morning trying to forget that if things were different, you would have spent the day with Iwa. He’d been secretive about his plans, tight lipped for once in his life, and there’d been some part of you that had wondered, hoped even… but instead you’re sitting alone in a hotel room, feeling miserable for yourself. 

If you were stronger, maybe, and if today were any other day, you might have ignored the message, the way those two brief sentences made your pathetic heart ache, but–

But… perhaps you had been a little too hasty when you’d broken it off. Iwa hadn’t said a word to defend himself, but you hadn’t really given him the option, had you?

Agreeing to meet with him wasn’t agreeing to brush it all under the rug. It wasn’t a promise of forgiveness, or even really an olive branch. It just meant that you would go to hear him out, that’s all.

Just to hear him out.

Yet your stomach’s twisting into knots as you walk up the familiar steps, your heart beating out an unsteady rhythm. You love him, despite it all.

You love him, but that doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you raise a fist to knock.

The smiling face that greets you when that door swings open, however, is not the one you’re expecting.

“Hey there, cutie. You’re early.”

Oikawa.

For one single, floundering heartbeat, confusion grips you. Why was he– was Iwaizumi not coming? Had you misunderstood the message, or… or had he changed his mind, backed down at the last second and sent his friend to hammer the final nail into the coffin of your failed relationship.

You didn’t think Iwaizumi would be the type, though. He’d never been cruel, he’d never been cowardly, either.

“I don’t… understand,” you breathe, wide eyes darting around as if you’re expecting your ex to suddenly pop up behind his shoulder and shove him aside with a growl, telling him to butt out of your relationship the way he had countless times before.

Yet Oikawa offers no explanation, that same stupid, infuriating grin widening as he steps back to let you in, and you, somewhat robotically, follow him inside. Your eyes flicker from his back to the apartment around you – it’s exactly how you left it last week, not a single thing out of place. 

“Iwa said–” but your voice falls silent as you realise that no, that’s not true. 

The door to your bedroom is ajar, soft, flickering light spilling out from the crack, but that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the rose petals on the floor, the dulcet music playing so quietly you’d missed it entirely. 

Your brow furrows, breath catching in your throat as you stare at the scene before you, utterly frozen. You don’t register Oikawa stepping closer, nor the dark hunger brewing in his eyes. None of this makes any sense, you don’t understand–

“Iwa’s not coming.” Long, delicate fingers grip your chin, tilting your face and before you can even draw breath his lips are pressing against yours. It only lasts a second, long enough for your lagging brain to register that Oikawa is kissing you, here, in the middle of the apartment you’d shared with his best friend.

Oikawa, who hates you. Who’s cupping your cheek, gazing at you with an expression so eager and wanting, so unnervingly wrong that it makes your heart clench in fear and your blood run cold.

His thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone,  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

And then he’s grabbing at your hand, fingers entwining with yours as he tugs you towards the bedroom, and finally the shock wears off enough for reality to kick in.

“What the fu– Oikawa, get the hell off of me!” you snap, trying to wrench yourself free. But he’s stronger than he looks, and his grip merely tightens.

“Tooru,” he calls back, glancing over his shoulder with that impish, wicked little smirk. “I want you to moan it for me tonight. You can do that for me, right cutie?”

You’re not a violent person, you’ve never been the type to lash out with fists and blows, but something inside of you just snaps at his words, and before you can stop yourself, your open palm flies towards his face. 

Quick as lightning, Oikawa spins, catching at your wrist and slamming you up against the living room wall. A small burst of pain radiates through your skull from the impact, your breath forced from your lungs in a pathetic squeak as he boxes you in. There’s not a moment for you to catch your breath, though, not with his forearm pressing down on your throat just hard enough so that you can feel it. He’s always been taller than you, but you’d never considered him to be intimidating – not until he’s looming over you, teeth bared in that feral smirk.

“Oh, baby. If you’re not going to play nice, I won’t either.” His fingers tighten on your wrist, squeezing until a choked whimper slips out and he kisses you once more. Not soft or sweet, but bruising, teeth clacking, nipping and biting and harshly sucking at your bottom lip until you return it.

And when he pulls away, there’s blood on his lips – yours – and he licks it away with a satisfied little hum. “I put effort into this, you know,” he says, his tone almost conversational if not for the slight pant, the shivering undercurrent that laces every word. Oikawa leans closer, and you can feel the outline of his cock, hardening already as he presses it against you, rutting his hips ever so slightly. “Set the bedroom up nice and romantic for our first time together.”

He kisses you again, a sweet, tender peck, smiling when you part.

“But if you want me to fuck you here first, up against the wall, all you had to do was say so.”

—

The girl had been easy enough to convince to play along, which probably should have disgusted him. 

She looked like you; a cheap imitation, of course, but close enough. Oikawa could kid himself that it was for Iwaizumi’s sake, to sow the seeds of doubt in his head, but he knows as he forces her face down into the pillow, slamming his hips against her ass like a man possessed, that that’s not the whole truth.

But she served her purpose well enough, letting him fuck her, mark up that pristine skin with the same kind he’d seen littered across your neck and collarbones, your thighs–

And she’d still tried to kiss him the moment before slipping out of her robe and climbing into his best friend’s bed. Given him that playful wink, biting her bottom lip seductively as if she were anything but a means to an end for him. 

As if he hadn’t forgotten her name the moment he’d gotten those pictures.

Oikawa knows all about your ex and how that asshole treated you, out of all the possible scenarios he could have engineered, this would be the one that’d hurt you the most. He’d thought that you would fly off the handle, kick Iwa out for a few days and leave the door open just wide enough for him to weasel his way in, but you’d gone one step further. 

You’d left him.

Broken his heart completely, the way he’d broken yours. Oikawa couldn’t have planned it better himself, and oh what he would have killed to have been there to see it. 

And it’s not that he enjoys his best friend’s pain – truly, he wants Iwa to be happy, he does.

Just not with you. Not when you’re his.

It was easy enough to bully Iwa into revealing when you’d be coming over to pick up your things. Easy enough to rile you up to the point you’d run and hide just so he wouldn’t see you shed all those pretty tears.

Leaving your phone unattended. And really, it’s your own fault for choosing such an obvious passcode – how could he possibly resist?

You were none the wiser, his poor, unsuspecting little idiot. 

Yet for all your posturing and your badly concealed hurt, he’d known that you’d show up today. You’re a romantic at heart, and you’d let yourself be walked all over again if you thought it meant that somebody loved you, wouldn’t you?

You would’ve said yes when he’d gotten down on one knee, and when he’d come back to you with tears in his eyes, drowning in regret and you saw what a mess Iwaizumi was without you, you would have forgiven him – even if it meant giving him the power to break you all over again.

Oikawa honestly doesn’t know whether he should admire or pity you for it.

It hardly matters now, he supposes. Not when you’re so beautifully wrecked, lying nestled against his bare chest with those tears he adores spilling down your flushed cheeks. Every thump of your heart echoing his. 

He wonders if he should send Iwaizumi a picture. 

[ukeishin]

💌 - karasuno + hands

— note: i have a problem. <3 some of these are h word some are not.

— ft. karasuno excluding narita & kinoshita

— warning: cursing. nsfw. contains mentions of choking, dacryphilia(?), over-stimulation, fingering, finger sucking, daddy kink.

— k. tsukishima

❧ he has big hands and long lithe fingers.

❧ he wraps his fingers together with athletic tape whenever he plays volleyball.

❧ his fingers are mhmm a crime tbh. they’re long and skinny. his knuckles are super prominent and his hands are just kind of bony as a whole. 

❧ and he knows how to use them. 

❧ tsukki crooks his fingers at just the right angle so that they barely graze against your g-spot. he knows exactly what he’s doing when you attempt to grind down further on his fingers, whining for him. you’re on the verge of tears, frustrated with how close you are, but it’s just not enough stimulation for you to get off. he wants to hear you beg him to let you cum and once he’s had his fun teasing you, tsukishima’s fingers speed up, hitting your g-spot with pinpoint accuracy until you’re gushing around him. his fingers don’t stop moving even after you cum. tsukishima won’t be content until you’re crying from the overstimulation.

— t. yamaguchi

❧ my sweet boy. his hands are normally soft.

❧ they’re bigger than average, but not overly-so.

❧ they can get kind of clammy because he gets so nervous sometimes. you can tell they’re getting clammy when he begins to wipe them onto his pants every few seconds. he gets embarrassed by it which just makes it worse.

❧ he’ll get blushy if you make him compare hand sizes with you. you already know his hand dwarfs your own, but you live for the way his ears turn red when you comment on the size difference and just how big they are.

❧ yams is so cute, he’ll interlace your fingers together while he’s fucking your brains out.

❧ you’re just a mess below him, babbling about how it feels so good and how you love him so much as he continues to thrust into you. he loves when you turn stupid from his cock, thinks it’s adorable, truly. he dips his head to press a wet kiss into your neck as his hand tangles with yours.

— s. hinata

❧ it’s not unusual to see his hands bruised up with small cuts littering the backside of them. when you ask about why they’re bruised, he sheepishly tells you about how it’s from hitting the ball hard one too many times. you’re just happy he didn’t get hit in the face again. he has no clue how his hands got cut up though, he’s so clueless sometimes.

❧ you lecture him while wrapping small little bandages on the cuts so they don’t get infected.

❧ his hands always find their way to yours. it’s not something he’s even conscious of. he’ll be talking to someone and his hands will just search around until he can lace his fingers with yours. 

— t. kageyama

❧ kags has really nice hands.

❧ i don’t think he’s aware of just how nice they are. he takes super good care of them and just thinks that everybody else does the same. 

❧ his hands are medium-sized and his hands almost look dainty? in a way. they’re pretty, but it’s evident how strong they are when you watch him set.

❧ he moisturizes them often, but the pads of his fingertips tend to be a lil rough.

❧ he’s adorable !!!! he’s so stiff and awkward when he holds your hand. it takes him forever to relax into it.

— y. nishinoya

❧ similar to hinata, noya’s hands are quite frankly, a mess. splotches of deep purple splattered across the back of his hands.

❧ he doesn’t take care of them at all. noya’s mind moves so fast that he doesn’t really realize how bruised up his hands are until you bring it to his attention.

❧ his hands are so small, it’s adorable. it doesn’t bother him at all, he takes pride in every part of him, including his cute lil hands.

— s. daichi

❧ his hands are rough and heavily calloused.

❧ his hands are big and his fingers are thick.

❧ daichi is well-aware of how much you love his hands. even if you don’t voice it, he notices the way your eyes linger on them when he’s fiddling with a pen while filing out paperwork or drumming them against his desk as he works.

❧ awh he thinks it’s so cute how you shiver and let out a quiet moan for daddy when he kneads the soft flesh of your ass with his hands. he loves the contrast of how rough his hands are and how soft your skin is. thinks the way that the skin blooms red beneath him when he spanks you is oh so pretty.

— k. sugawara

❧ mhm fuck. suga’s hands are an actual crime. they’re not too big, but definitely not small. a perfect in between.

❧ he doesn’t do too much to take care of them, but he does enough.

❧ his hands aren’t quite as rough. his hands are so pretty, bordering on the side of dainty.

❧ his fingers are slim and slender.

❧ he knows how much you like his hands. you’re always telling him “koushi, your hands are so pretty, baby.”

❧ he wears a few rings - all gifted from you. a set of simple thin gold bands, nothing too flashy.

❧ when you’re good for him, he’ll reward you by letting you taste yourself on his fingers. he’s sweet like that and nothing gets the blood rushing to his cock faster than you wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking on them as if it’s his dick in your mouth instead.

— a. asahi

❧ obviously his hands are big and his fingers are thick. they’re really warm too.

❧ they probably get clammy when he gets really nervous.

❧ he’s hyper aware of his size in general so he’s very cautious and gentle when he places his hands on your hips and runs them slowly up and down your side. he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you in any way. 

— c. ennoshita

❧ his hands are firm.

❧ ennoshita is never rough with his hands but not gentle either. his movements are self-assured, his hands remain steady and unrelenting when he wraps them around your pretty marked up throat. he knows your limits well and never pushes too far past them. his hands are familiar with the contours of your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your mind hazy with lust where the only thing you’re able to focus on is ennoshita’s grip on you.

— r. tanaka

❧ his hands are rough - pronounced callouses line his palm. his hands are also dry because he doesn’t believe there’s a need for hand lotion.

❧ his hands are abnormally warm. you think it’s because he’s constantly waving them around wildly as he and noya scheme.

❧ his hands are bare besides for the small minimalist tattoos he has on the back of his hands. he got them as a result of a bet, but they suit him well.

❧ his hands are always wandering. he just wants to be touching you at every moment and he doesn’t care where you two are. typically, his hands are on your ass no matter how often you swat them away.

— k. ukai

❧ keishin’s hands are large and worn. the contours of his palm are deep.

❧ he has a few prominent veins running along the backside of his palm even when he’s not flexing them. when he does flex them, whether it’s because he’s lifting boxes in the store or gripping at his clipboard too hard coaching, the veins become much more pronounced.

❧ there’s always a cigarette resting in between his index and middle finger. 

❧ keishin’s hands are domineering, expecting you to bend to his will. you easily become pliant against him when he plays with your pretty lil pussy like he owns it. a cigarette in one hand while the other runs up and down your folds, collecting enough slick to rub against your clit causing you to moan for daddy’s cock.

— i. takeda

❧ takeda’s hands are covered in either chalk dust or pen ink from grading papers.

❧ his hands are so dry, please buy him some hand cream, he needs it desperately. he’s so cute, if you do give him some, he’ll carry it around with him and try to remember to use it, but he gets so caught with other things that he often forget, whoops.

❧ he’s just so cute, his movements get so nervous once he thinks his pump up speech for the team wasn’t as good as he thought it was.

❧ his hands dart every once in awhile to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose to keep them from falling off.

⤷ main page

[citrinesparkles]

cat part two.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,052 words. notes: part one here! (edit: part three here!) jason's having a really long night, okay. kids and crooks are one thing. cats are another. warnings: food is sort of discussed?

honestly? he felt a little stupid thinking anything was strange at this point, given the whole 'been dead done that' thing, but even he had to admit that running around cradling a jacket full of too-thin cat felt a little odd.

he'd walked the kids home, hearing the whole way about how clever and sweet cat was and how it liked tuna and chicken but do not give it turkey because it will walk away without eating and their mom said that onion was bad for cats, so none of that either.

when they made it to their apartment building, jordan ran upstairs and gathered up the last of their tuna leftovers in a little plastic baggie, bringing it back with another 'thank you' and a joke about finding a different park. then he'd scooped jazz up and disappeared back inside. jason caught something about sesame street reruns- which, if he was being honest, sounded pretty good right about then.

he took off with cat wrapped up neatly, tucked carefully against his chest.

and it meowed the entire way up to the convenience store three streets over.

it didn't seem to want to stop meowing inside the store, either, immediately catching the attention of the worker behind the counter.

"do you guys carry- uh," he adjusted cat carefully, "cat food?"

her eyes were bouncing between him and the bundle of yelling, and he was really starting to feel the absurdity of the whole situation.

"uh-"

she was interrupted by a particularly indignant meow that made him groan and hold the jacket out to look the cat in the eye.

"what do you want, huh?" he asked tiredly. "i'm doing my best here."

it meowed again.

"is... that your cat?" the cashier asked quietly.

"no." another meow. "but it is my problem."

"o-kay," she stood up and made her way around the counter, giving jason plenty of space as she passed him. "what kind of cat food?"

"the kind that will get this thing to stop screaming at me."

"have you tried, y'know, not calling it 'it' and 'thing'?"

"listen- i've had a long night, okay?" he pulled cat back to his chest- met with yet another meow- and tucked it into one arm, dropping the other hand to dig into his pocket. he emptied it, glancing down at the contents briefly before putting it on the counter. "i've got twenty five bucks and a wendy's coupon, a cat that somehow became my responsibility and just will not shut up, and- as i'm sure you'll be able to relate to, considering your customer service job- a desperate need for a nap that is growing by the second. will you, please, get me whatever cat stuff you can sell me and let me worry about what to call it?"

she leaned back around the endcap, raising her hands in mock surrender. "whatever, bat guy."

"bat guy?" he repeated incredulously.

she nodded at his chest, making him rolled his eyes. "the name's red hood."

she stared at him for a moment, squinting at his head. "that's not a-"

"i know! i know it's not a hood! why does everyone feel the need to point that out tonight! it's- it's symbolic!"

she scoffed, disappearing back down the row of merchandise. "symbolic of what, your childhood dreams of becoming a racecar driver?"

"you'll forgive me for not giving you my whole tragic backstory in the middle of a corner store at three in the morning while cat is still screaming?"

he heard rustling, and the sound of tin hitting tin. "did you just call it cat?"

he took a deep, slow breath and squinted up at the ceiling tiles. "are you really back to giving me shit about it?"

"yeah. that's not a name."

"it's not my cat, so i don't care. besides, you're one to talk- shouldn't you have a nametag on or something?"

"i used to. it got buried somewhere." she reappeared, arms full of cans. "you're so good at names, why don't you come up with something? cashier has a nice ring to it."

"very clever."

she nodded smugly with a barely noticeable eyeroll, turning towards the back room. "i do that sometimes. look, wait here, okay?

"i don't really have time-"

"i gotta get my manager, okay. trust me on this. two minutes, tops."

she was gone before he could respond, ducking into a back room with the cat food.

he reluctantly decided to give her sixty seconds before he just left and hoped the tuna from jordan would be good enough.

she came back with an older woman in tow about forty five seconds in, which was more frustrating than relieving.

he just wanted to be home.

"you were serious," the older woman muttered incredulously, staring at him before zeroing in on the bundle in jason's arms- which meowed immediately, as though it felt her gaze. "this isn't your cat?"

"no. it is not my cat. can i just get my-"

"do you have a litter box?"

oh, duh. "no."

she nodded thoughtfully. "how much did you say you have?"

"twenty five. look, not to be rude, but can we hurry this up? i have somewhere to be."

"twenty five," she repeated, leaning over the counter. "alright. run and grab a box and some litter for him, and-" she turned back to him- "are you on foot?"

this was getting ridiculous. "how does that-"

"one of those pool bags, too, the one with the long strap."

it took about five minutes for the two women to pack the bag full of a plastic bin, a box of litter, like twenty cans of food, and three different toys, before passing it- and his money- to him.

"you helped tony up the street last week, didn't you?" the manager grinned at his protests. "call it even."

if the money ended up on the counter anyway, that wasn't any of her business, he figured.

--

"alright, cat," he muttered as he shuffled through the window awkwardly, "we gotta be quiet."

which, obviously, earned a loud meow.

he sighed and slid the window back down with his elbow, balancing cat and the large bag in the other arm.

"so," your sweet, entirely-too-awake, way-too-amused voice called behind him, "your jacket meows now?"

so much for being quiet.

[mha-princess]

Let’s Play Ball

[Bakugou x Fem! Reader]

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

Genre: 18+ | College AU | Oneshot | crack

A/N: before you all ask yes Bakugousquad has to be friends in all of my fanfics i litterally can not help it also I am very upset that I’ve been slacking on writing but I still hope you enjoy ⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding, explicit language

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: a bakugou x reader college au where katsuki is new to the school and the football team, and he develops a little crush on his football captains sister. Who is definitely OFF limits.

“I just don't know where we can find another quarterback before the playoff game! Kaminari you idiot!” Akawa cursed, throwing a pillow at the injured male.

“Hey man, if you wouldn’t of overworked me at practice we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Kaminari said sending the pillow right back at your brother, who catches it easily.

“Plus I told you Kirishima has a friend who's transferring here soon. matter of fact he'll be here monday so you don't need to worry, I promise he's good enough to take my place for now .”

“He's good enough to take your place, but is he good enough to take us to the championships.’ Akawa beckons, you roll your eyes at their bickering.

“Football this and football that. Stop worrying so much It's not that serious.” Akawa and Kaminari scoff at you in unison.

“We’re going to bring this college a trophy. Its my duty as captain to make sure of it.” Akawa brings fist to his chest as if he were swearing to an oath and Kaminari follows in the same motion.

“Both of you. Leave. “ You shake your head as you open the front door. Kaminari reaches for his crutches as your brother grabs their bags.

“Don't you feel bad kicking out a cripple?” Kaminari questions, limping past you.

“Yeah! Don't you also feel bad kicking me out too!? I’m your brother!” Your sigh and shove them out the door.

“I know I tried to get away from you, but out of all the scholarship offers you had you decided to pick the college I wanted to go.” Your bother stops in the doorway.

“You know I have to keep an eye on my little sister. I gotta protect you from these racid guys.” Kaminari laughs at your brother’s teasing as you force him out of the doorway.

“Goodnight.” You say, slamming the door in their faces.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Now class I know this isn’t a high school course, but we have a new student today and I would all like for you to greet him formally and treat him with the same respect you give your peers.” Your administrator announces.

You elbow Kaminari, “She talking about Kirishima’s friend, right?”

Kaminari shrugs, eyes glued to his phone screen. You then snatch his phone from his hands.

“Y/N! There was only nine people left.” He whines reaching for his phone. You hold the phone far out of his reach.

“You know if your brother wasn’t a psycho I would’ve been accused you of liking me. Seeing how much you pick on me.” Your mouth drops in offense.

“Me ? Like you? Could never.” You roll your eyes giving him his phone back and before he can express how you had just hurt his feelings the door to your classroom opens.

“Ah, Mr. Bakugou, it’s nice to have a transfer from such a prestigious school.” Your administrator walks over and firmly shakes the boys hand.

You take a moment to take in the the male’s appearance. His uniform is disheveled, his ash blonde hair is unruly, his bangs are choppy, and his shirt is unbuttoned revealing his collar bones. He didn’t look like he was from a prestigious school. But even though his presentation could use some work his overall appearance wasn’t bad, he was clearly the athletic type.

“There’s a vacant seat next to Mrs. Y/N, so if you would seat yourself so I could get started.” The administrator gestures to the desk and the boy takes his seat.

After that the rest of the class went by as usual. Kaminari asked stupid questions and you struggled to stay awake during the lecture. Once the professor dismissed you all, you pack quickly up, but your stay was prolonged due to the injured Kaminari.

“Welp off to sit on the bench at practice.” Kaminari sighs grabbing his crutches. You try not to laugh, grabbing his backpack.

“I can take it.” Your turn to see that Bakugou hadn’t left, “I don’t know where the field is anyway.” You and Kaminari turn to eachother, but say nothing.

“I got something on my face or something? The hell you too lookin’ like that for?” You snap out of your confusion.

“Nothing it’s just your nothing like how Ejiro described.” You say letting him take Kaminari’s bag.

“Huh? What did that bastard say about me?” The blonde questions.

“He said your an ass-.”Kaminari starts, but you cut off his oxygen with a quick punch to the chest.

“He said your an amazing person.” Bakugou scoffs.

“Whatever, just show me where the field is.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“It’s so hot out here.” Kaminari whines from the bench.

“Maybe it’s because your not playing.” Kirishima teases sitting on the turf, poking at the cast around Kaminari’s injured ankle.

Bakugou and Akawa approach taking a seat next to Kirishima.

“Well look who it is! My replacement!” Kaminari exclaims with fake enthusiasm.

“More like permanent replacement.” Bakugou sneers as he watches Kaminari’s face fill with panic.

“Akawa, you bastard! You gave my spot away?!” The yellow haired boy yells in a questioning manner, throwing a crutch at the captain.

“Easy! For now your still our primary quarterback! But if Bakugou wants to challenge you for your spot, I’ll allow it.” Kaminari picks up another crutch, but Akawa is too fast and darts down the field before he can throw it.

“You’ve been here one day and I’m already getting booted.” Kaminari sighs.

“I’m an asshole, but not that big of an asshole. I’d just wait to take your spot next year. It’s almost the end of the season anyway.” Bakugou responds shrugging.

Kaminari raises a crutch but Kirishima stops him, “It’s too hot to be beat to death by a man with a broken ankle don’t you think?”

Kaminari huffs, sliding down the bench.

“I have so much homework. I shouldn’t be here.” The yellow haired boy groaned at the thought of having to use his brain.

“Just get Y/N to help you after practice.” Kirishima says, taking a sip of water.

“Y/N definitely tired of me. She’s been carrying my stuff all day I’d rather not bother her anymore.”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” Bakugou questions, taking the water bottle away from Kirishima and finishing the remaining amount of liquid.

“Y/N? You took my bags from her earlier.” Bakugou nods in understanding. “She was hot.”

Kirishima and Kaminari turn to eachother, an all too fearful glint in their eyes.

“What are you fucks looking like that for?” Bakugou furrows his brows.

“Bro Y/N is like the most hands off girl in this school. Akawa will kill you and us for even talking about his sister like that. As long as Akawa’s her brother your not getting even a little close.” Kirishima explains.

“Plus we wouldn’t let you use her like that.” Bakugou glares at Kaminari.

“You fucking dunce, I might be an asshole, but I wouldn’t use a girl like that. She’d be my girlfriend before I ever tried anything.”

“That’s nice to her coming from you that is .” Kirishima sighs in relief. Bakugou raises his hand to hit Kirishima but he maneuvers out of the way.

“Seriously man its good that you think that way! But good luck getting past Akawa, your gonna need it.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

To be frank, he didn’t need it. Well no let me rephrase you too just hadn’t got caught. After that day at the field Bakugou began to grow more talkative and more open. After a month he was no longer that transfer student, he was your friend.

After few more he was your boyfriend and suprisingly Akawa remained unaware. It’s was hard but you had to admit it was fun. From sneaking kisses in during and between classes to you occasionally stealing him and taking him back to your dorm for some alone time.

But to be honest it’s was growing tiring. Eventhough the adrenaline of being caught was a nice rush, but the more serious you and Bakugou grew the more you both wanted the world to know that you were together.

“But Katsuki the problem isn’t I don’t want to tell him! It’s that I can’t tell him, do you not know how mad Akawa will be at me?

“Well we can’t be a damn secret forever. So I think it’s in your best interest to tell him. Or I will.” Katsuki threatens, as he lay lazily on his back sprawled out in your bed eyes glued to his phone screen.

“Katsuki!” You pout grabbing hold of his arm, not feeling shocked when he pulls away.

“Katsukiiiii.” You whine throwing a leg over his body to straddle his waist. He doesn’t acknowledge you, rather he just keeps looking at his phone.

Feeling aggravated with his silence you lean down and press a kiss in between his neck and his shoulder blade. He pays you no mind. You then let your hand travel down his chest and to the waist band of his pants, causing him to briefly look away from his phone.

“Don’t.” You take your lip in between your teeth.

“You know that’s only makes me want to do it more.” You say letting fingers enter the waistband.

Slowly, you let your fingers trail over his pelvis. He tenses up but still continues to pay you no attention. As your fingers slide down further you take his length into your hand.

“Katsuki.” You whisper in his ear.

“Dammit Y/N stop it.” His breath hitched as you began stroking up and down his shaft. “Your not getting out of this.”

“Mhm.” You respond continuing to trail kisses all down his neck and to his chest, stopping when you reach his underwear.

“Katsukiiii.” You tease. Finally he adverts his attention to you. “Can I?”

He says nothing, instead he lifts up his hips so you can pull his pants down.

“I knew you wouldn’t say no.”

“Shut the hell up.” He mumbles, finally discarding his phone to watch you.

Your mouth falls open has you take his erect member into your mouth taking him as far into your cavern as possible, and taking what you couldn’t throat into your hands.

Bakugou exhales deeply as you swirl your tongue around his firmness. You moan around the thick cock filling your mouth. You could taste the salty taste of precum leak on to your tongue as you continue to bob your head and twist your wrist . A river of saliva beginning to pool over your hand.

Soon enough Bakugou is no longer composed. His hands find there way to your hair as he begins to buck his hips in a sharp motion.

“I-I’m gonna f-fuck.” He groans, not giving your throat a rest as he continues to fuck your mouth. Moaning against his cock only encouraged, him to thrust harder. Your hand eventually lost its purpose as his cock was buried deep in your throat, causing you to gag relentlessly.

Your eyes fluttered up to his face, which was tense from his upcoming release. His lips parted slightly as he let his cum pour down your throat.

Slowly, you let the blondes cock fall from your mouth, a line of spit dribbling down your chin.

“Shit Katsuki, your still hard.” You say eyeing the males hard on as you slip off your pants and underwear.

“I wanna ride it.” You move back up to straddle his waist, your pussy aching from arousal of the blowjob you had just given. Desperately you take two fingers and rub them against your dripping cunt.

“Then fucking ride.” Bakugou groans at your actions, unable to deny you. You smirk as you take hold of his length and position it at your entrance. Cautiously, you let him fill your insides. His cock dragging so good against your walls.

“Shit Katsuki.” You moan, placing your hands on his chest for more stability. He sighs as you begin to rock back and forth on his cock. The rocking eventually turning into steady bouncing, Katsuki’s hands finding your hips.

“You fuck me, so good.” He grunts, allowing his hips to fall into rhythm with your bouncing. The lewd sound of slapping and simultaneous moans fill the atmosphere. A familiar warmth building in the pit of stomach.

“I’m g-gonna cum on your c-cock.” You feel him twitch against our walls as his grip on your hips tighten. His hips thrusting up erratically, chasing his own release. The sudden change in speed hitting something deep inside of you.

“R-right there Katsuki. Right there. Feels so good.” You whimper, losing all rythmn as he hits that spot deep inside you. After a few more moments of abusing you pussy, you cum your walls clamping tightly around his cock.

“If you don’t move I’ll cum inside.” He groans, but doesn’t stop. You slump over on his chest as he continues to fuck you into overstimulation.

“Fuck, cum inside.” You breathe heavily against his ear. Your boyfriend’s cock twitches desperately inside you as he nears his release. You let your teeth sink into his shoulder as he pumps his load into your pussy.

After coming down from your high you roll off of Katsuki and pull the covers over you both.

“I’m going to tell him, just give me a bit more time ok.” You say, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Bakugou then runs his hands through your hair and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I was just being an ass, take your time. I’m fine with waiting to be with someone I love.”

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid (Part 2)

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

Notes: Violence, blood, gore, sexual inneundos

I didn't make a taglist for this story but I know @teamplutoforlife wanted to be tagged <3 And thank you @cheshirevalentine for editing

Part 1

Remus was falling, twisting onto his back as he plummeted towards the ground, the buildings around him nothing but a blur as he flew past. He could faintly hear the construction on the ground over the pounding of his own heart and the howling of the wind rushing past him, barely hearing the alarmed shouts of the workers watching him fall.

Virgil was nothing but a speck in the distance now, perched on the edge of the roof. Lifeless white eyes watched him fall, unfeeling and still.

Pain exploded in Remus’s back as he slammed into something sharp, legs hitting the ground when he finally stopped falling. He could just barely make out the rusty, blood stained spike in front of him, poking through his chest from his back where he'd fallen, blood pooling around the wound and into his suit.

-

“Hey.”

Remus jumped so hard he nearly fell off the roof, scrambling to his feet and reaching for his gun as he whirled around to face whoever the fuck was stupid enough to sneak up on him.

Spiderman was perched beside him, apparently fine after his near death experience last night, and holding… a pizza box?

“Hey,” Remus said carefully. “What the fuck?”

Spiderman shrugged and held out the box in his hand. “I have pizza. You asked for pizza.”

Remus stared for a moment, frozen where he stood with his hand hovering over his gun, trying to figure out if this was a joke. “You… actually brought it?”

“Yeah?” Spiderman said, like he didn’t understand how this was in any way strange. “Oh did you… were you joking? Did you not actually want it, or—”

“No, I did.” Remus stayed right where he was. What the hell was this? Was this a prank? Was he being pranked?

“Then… here,” Spiderman said. He held out the pizza box, close enough for Remus to cautiously take. “I didn’t know what you liked so I just got cheese. But cheese is good. Everyone likes cheese.”

Holy shit. Spiderman was a dweeb.

Remus carefully opened the pizza box, and when there wasn’t a bomb or some kind of spider-themed booby trap inside, just a freshly baked cheese pizza from some local place he’d vaguely heard of, Remus let his shoulders relax and barked out a laugh.

“Well shit,” he said, pleasantly surprised. “Thanks, Webs.”

Spidey was shuffling a bit, looking ridiculously awkward, and Remus was suddenly reminded that they were both just… people under their masks. “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

Remus hesitated, because he hadn’t been kidding about Spiderman owing him a pizza he just… hadn’t actually expected him to follow through. There was no way Remus was eating all of it on his own, he barely ate much as it was.

“Do you, like…” he paused, wondering if this was going to get him punched or laughed at. “Do you want a slice?”

Spiderman actually startled, like him being asked to lunch was just as rare as Remus asking someone to lunch. Jeez, he’d have figured people begged Spiderman to eat with them all the time.

“I, uh… I bought it for you, so—”

“Yeah, and I’m offering. Christ, do you want some pizza or not?”

Spidey still hesitated, and while it was annoying as hell Remus supposed he’d be a hypocrite to judge when he’d been half convinced there was a bomb in the pizza box two minutes ago.

Well, it wasn’t like it would have been the first time.

“Uh, sure,” Spiderman said, still visibly wary. “Thank you.”

Remus ignored him in favor of opening the pizza box and setting it down, motioning for the vigilante to take as much as he wanted.

It wasn’t until Spidey turned away slightly to hook his fingers under the bottom of his mask that Remus remembered- duh- they both had to pull up their masks to eat.

It wasn’t a problem, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to risk exposing their faces to each other, but Remus really wasn’t in the mood to be gawked at. A glance at his jaw might ruin Spiderman’s lunch.

“I’m not looking,” Spidey said, and Remus realized he’d been hesitating for a few too many seconds. “I can go, if you don’t wanna pull up your mask around anyone.”

Remus waved him off, even as he continued to fiddle with the leather. “I’ve got some scars, is all. Like… a lot. People think they’re gross.”

“Oh,” Spiderman said, and then simply shrugged. “That’s fine, I don’t care. Scars happen, dude. I’ve got a bunch.”

Remus still hesitated, a little caught off guard from Spiderman calling him ‘dude' while so nonchalantly eating his pizza just a few feet away, but he quickly pulled himself together and tugged his leather mask up just below his nose.

It was just a few inches of skin, and still enough to reveal a handful of scars littered across his jaw, and the one that stretched down from his cheek.

Spidey barely glanced at him, which Remus guessed he should have seen coming. It’d be a little out of character for New York’s hero to be an asshole about someone’s scars, but you never knew with heroes. Some of them were pretentious assholes.

They ate their pizza like common civilians, perched on their rooftop and watching the people of New York mingle below.

Remus barely ate two slices. He didn’t really eat much to begin with, and it was far more entertaining to watch in silent awe as Spiderman easily finished the rest of the box. The hero was a good two heads shorter than Remus, and looked like he barely weighed a hundred pounds. If Remus didn’t know better, he’d think the guy never ate at all.

“My metabolism is different,” he explained sheepishly when he caught Reus staring. “I eat more than… you know. You. Regular people.”

Remus scoffed, because this was definitely the first time anyone had described him as a ‘regular person’ but he let it slide with an eye roll and a thanks for lunch.

They parted ways, and Remus let himself relax at the thought of having one less enemy roaming New York.

Remus hadn’t meant to start hanging out with Spiderman.

Really, he hadn’t. The impromptu pizza date was supposed to be the end of it, just a slightly awkward peace offering that made it clear neither of them would actively try to kill each other in the near future.

Remus had saved Spiderman because he was bored, and Spiderman had bought him a pizza. That was all.

But then less than a week later Spiderman had swung (literally) by with takeout- coincidentally from Remus’s favorite place a few blocks away- and Remus hadn’t been able to say no to sharing.

They’d shared a meal together three times in the last two weeks, and Remus was starting to think it wasn’t an accident.

It probably wasn’t helping that Remus had started carrying snacks on him.

Remus wasn’t going to eat them himself, and Spiderman was always complaining about how hungry he was, so he’d just started keeping packets of gummies or granola for when he saw the hero swinging past. Chucking them at his head was good target practice, anyway.

That didn’t mean they were friends. Remus didn’t have friends, because being friends with Deadpool was possibly the dumbest idea anyone could ever have.

Remus had seen what happens when people get close to him. He wasn’t going to go through that again.

Apparently, Spiderman had other ideas.

It had been just another fight that Remus had happened to run into, watching for a moment as Spiderman took down what was probably his third armed robbery of the day.

He knew he probably could have just continued on his way and gotten lunch, but there were five of them, all armed, and Remus didn’t feel great about those odds despite Spidey’s reputation.

So Remus had decided to return the favor, Spiderman had introduced himself by butting into Deadpool's fight after all, and stepped in to finish the job twice as fast.

And it had gone fine. Spiderman had greeted him with stupidly cheeky finger guns and unfortunately insisted they keep all of them alive, which wasn’t Remus’s specialty but he’d manage.

It had been easy, some druggie civilians no match for New York’s hero and the merc with a mouth, three of them encased in webbing within two minutes, another on the ground with a bullet in his knee.

It had been fine, until Remus was shot in the chest.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t a big deal. He was shot in the chest all the time. It’d be a hassle if he didn’t get the bullet out before his skin healed around it, but it wasn’t like he could die.

It occurred to him a bit too late that he had forgotten to tell Spiderman that.

“No!”

The raw panic and emotion In Spidey’s voice caught Remus off guard as he stumbled backwards, pain he was unfortunately used to by now exploding in his chest as the bullet met its mark. There had been a fifth goon, hiding out and biding his time, which would have been a great plan if it didn’t end with a face of webs and a swift punch to the temple.

Remus lowered himself to the ground, the wind knocked out of him, dark crimson blood pooling around his hand and flooding through his fingers as he clutched the wound.

Spiderman was rushing over, and Remus could practically feel the worry behind that lifeless mask. He skidded to a stop and dropped to a crouch, hands hovering, frantic and unsure.

And maybe Remus was just an asshole, but this was fucking hilarious.

“Deadpool?” Spidey called, the vigilante leaning over him as Remus dropped to lay on his back. “Jesus- hang in there okay? You’ll be fine.”

Remus forced himself to cough, wet and ragged, biting back a smile. “This is it for me, Webs. I can see the light.”

“Deadpool shut the fuck up!”

“Everything’s getting dark—”

“I said shut up,” Spiderman snapped, and Remus gasped involuntarily, arching his back when gloved hands pressed down on the wound. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re… just- just stay awake, okay? Don’t close your eyes.”

Remus coughed again to hide a smile, blood splattering his chin, closing his eyes anyway and letting his head fall back on the concrete. He stopped listening to Spidey’s rambling, committing to the bit of playing dead- very obviously playing dead, for the record. He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and everything, waiting for Spiderman to catch on and tell him off.

“No!” Except Spidey still sounded genuinely distressed, only pressing harder on the wound. “No, no, no! Deadpool! Wake up!”

Well. This wasn’t any fun if Spiderman was too panicked to even pay attention. He sighed, opening his eyes again to sit up slightly and whack the vigilante’s shoulder.

“I can’t die, stupid,” he said, grinning when Spiderman scrambled back. “Cut it out. I’ve just gotta get the bullet out so it doesn’t heal around it. Those things hurt like a bitch, so—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Remus opened his mouth to respond, because there were lots of things wrong with him and he had a list at the ready. But he didn’t get the chance because suddenly Spidey was throwing himself forward, wrapping his arms around Remus and pulling him close, probably getting blood all over his suit.

Haha, what the fuck?

“You’re such a bitch,” Spiderman said, muffled since his face was practically buried in Remus’s shoulder. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“Aww, were you worried about me?” Remus asked, burying his shock. “That’s so sweet, Spidey.”

“Shut the hell up,” Spiderman growled. “I thought you were going to die.”

“You were so worried! It was so cute, oh my god!”

Spiderman finally pulled back, only to rear back and punch Remus square in the shoulder. Hard.

Remus barked out a laugh, now nursing two injuries. “Fucking- ow. I still feel pain.”

“Sucks.”

Remus crossed his arms, wincing when it pulled at the bullet wound still in his chest. “Rude.”

“I’m rude?” Spiderman asked, incredulous. “You thought it would be funny to play dead!”

“To be fair,” Remus argued. “It was funny.”

“No it wasn’t!”

Remus shrugged, already turning his attention to the bullet in his chest. “If you had known it would be funny.”

“Well I didn’t,” he said, the mask’s white eyes glued to Remus’s hands. “I thought you were dying.”

“I can’t die,” Remus said. “That’s not a joke, Webs. I don’t just regenerate fast, I can’t be killed.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?”

Remus shrugged, a little put off because this was not how he’d expected this to go. Damn Spiderman and his stupid savior complex.

He turned his attention back to the bullet wound, the pain already faded to a familiar numbness, but two gloved hands grabbed his wrists before he could start digging around for the bullet.

“Here,” he said, obnoxiously soft. “I’ve got it, let me help.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Remus said, tensing against his will at the thought of someone else caring for a wound. “It’s not too deep, I can get it.”

“Are your gloves clean?”

He took a minute to consider that, calculating the swords he’d been holding, the gun he’d reloaded that morning, coming up blank when he tried to think of the last time he’d properly cleaned any of his weapons. Not to mention he had to climb buildings with his hands, lacking Spidey’s abilities to walk up walls and propel himself across the city in seconds.

“Probably,” he lied. “What am I gonna do, get sick?”

Spiderman hesitated. “Do you do that?”

“No.”

“I can still get it,” Spidey said. “Let me help.”

Remus scoffed, trying to cover up his own uneasiness. “You wanna stick your hand in there? You know it’s gross, right?”

“I know how to remove a bullet, Deadpool,” Spiderman said. “I’ve gotten shot before, I can get it.”

There was no reason not to drop his arms and let Spiderman do what he wanted. The asshole was stubborn, but he obviously meant well. With how shaky Remus’s hands were, Spidey getting the bullet out would probably be quicker anyway.

And he was the city’s hero. He’d made it clear he didn’t mean Deadpool any harm, especially not when the Merc had so graciously dropped in to save his ass today.

Remus didn’t know why it was so hard to just relax.

“This is dumb,” he said, wondering if he could annoy Spidey into giving up. “I can handle it fine.”

“I know,” the vigilante said. “But I want to help. It’s like...returning the favor or whatever.”

Remus sighed, a little shaky now, but reluctantly nodded. The longer they argued, the faster the skin would heal over the bullet still lodged in his chest, and Remus would really like to avoid that happening. Again.

“Fine,” he growled. “Jesus, you’re stubborn.”

Under the mask, Remus was sure Spiderman was smirking at him. “Look who’s talking.”

Remus hadn’t expected Spiderman to be so gentle. He was digging a bullet wound out of Deadpool’s chest, there wasn’t really a way to make this a pleasant experience, but Spidey was taking his time, moving carefully as he dug into the wound.

“Could you hurry up?” Remus growled, teeth clenched. This would have been over in seconds if he was doing it himself. It was so much easier to just stick his hand in the wound, dig around for a second, and rip the bullet out. “I’m not exactly a fan of having someone else’s fingers in my chest.”

Spiderman didn’t even spare him a glance. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I got shot,” Remus snapped. “We’re well past that.”

Spidey didn’t respond after that and Remus for once stayed quiet to let him concentrate, breathing heavily to try to ignore the panic that came with being vulnerable like this. The vigilante couldn’t kill him, but he sure as hell could cause him a shit ton of pain.

But he wouldn’t. Remus had to keep reminding himself that he wouldn’t. Spiderman was insufferably good- he wouldn’t kick someone while they were down.

Eventually Spiderman’s fingers found the bullet and Remus gasped, forcing himself to shove the pain away and make a lewd sounding moan when Spidey’s fingers left the wound.

“Jesus,” Spiderman muttered, and Remus laughed when he tossed the bullet dripping in dark blood to the side. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Remus said, and he was. Physically at least. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a civil conversation with someone, let alone had someone willing to help patch him up. “See? All good. It’s already healing itself.”

True to his word, Remus’s chest was fusing itself back together, skin closing up over the still bleeding wound, the rest of the pain fading to a background throb. It’d be like nothing ever happened in ten minutes.

“Holy shit,” Spiderman muttered, leaning in close to watch. Remus tensed uncomfortably. “That’s...fucking wild.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Remus brushed it off, scrambling to his feet and ignoring the way Spidey moved to try and help. “Anyways. Are there any more fights you need me to hold your hand through, or can I go take a nap?”

“Oh please,” Spidey scoffed. “I was fine. All you did was get in the way and get shot.”

“I saved your ass,” Remus retorted, smiling behind the leather mask. “You’d be dead if it weren’t for me, Webs.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Spiderman mumbled, but Remus was willing to bet money he was smiling too. “Go take your nap, Deadpool.”

Remus gave a mock salute, sheathing his sword and turning away from the remnants of the battle and starting for his apartment.

Maybe Spidey wasn’t so bad after all.

[neo-culture-mafia]

Mafia!NCT 127 Reaction to You Coloring Their Tattoos

Hyuck + Mark in the Dream Reaction

not proofread yet

[ posted 09 / 10 / 2020 ]

Taeyong

He had no hesitation letting you color his tattoos. "Have fun, babe." He pinched your cheek and relaxed under the big tree you were both sitting under. Today was a cool and relaxing day as Taeyong had thrown all his plans away to be with you all day.

The dragon on his bicep was now stained in hues of purple and green with accents of neon yellow creeping up his shoulder. "So, besides today, how have you been lately?" His gaze swayed from you to the inside of his eyelids as he was drifting to sleep slowly. "Okay, I suppose. Work is annoying." You laughed and his heart twinged with love. "My students are definitely taking advantage of the wedding to slack off with their work." You chuckled and Taeyong took notice of the cool metal ring that laid on your left hand. It had never looked more magical than right now. The wedding was a fairytale story to think about in another time and place. It was the talk of the town. There wasn’t a reason the students shouldn’t be talking about it.

"They're kids. They're going to goof off for a while." He laughed and looked down at his arm. The color stuck inside the lines and stained your hands wildly. Your yawn brought his attentive eyes to your sleepy frame. "Tired, already?" He laughed as you could only shrug with a sheepish grin stuck on your face.

"Come here. Let's just rest for a little bit then." He pushed the markers into the grass and his arm wrapped itself around your waist as he pulled you down and into his side. You couldn't fight it as your ear was filled with the sound of his mellowing heartbeat. His fingers danced in your hair and danced along the curves of your cheekbones till he knew you were fast asleep.

He stayed awake just looking at your angelic features as the sight of his multi-colored arm shifted his focus. It was so meaningless to you but he loved it as he knew that it came from your heart and mind.

It was you-- perfect.

Taeil

"If I have to sit through one more of these stupid underboss meetings then I swear I'm going to go ballistic-" Taeil cut you off with a laugh. "I don't want caviar and fancy fish with wine! I want chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs with a coke!" You whined as he walked in the bedroom, one hand shoving the dress shirt underneath the hem of his dress pants.

"I know, cutie. Just a couple more meetings this week then I promise I'll take a week off and we can go and take a vacation." He pulled your hands and guided you to the bathroom where an elegant dress hung on the hooks of the door. Matching with Taeil was something you looked forward to with events like these. Yet, the event itself was throwing you off.

You got dressed and stared at yourself in the mirror. The thin red spaghetti straps danced on your shoulders as it contrasted with your dark black tattoos. The heels were uncomfortable as they carried you through the door and to the base meeting house.

You sat between Taeil and Johnny who decided to come alone and without his wife. 'lucky bitch' you thought. Taeil's hand protectively gripped the inside of your thigh. The stares of the foreign feeling underbosses littered across the room. Their aura made a shiver go down your spine as Taeil read out the news from Neo Culture's territory.

Your hand rested on top of his as your thoughts drowned out your husband's usually sweet voice. You traced the tattoos on his hand lightly with your finger. You grabbed an extra pen from Johnny's seat place and started to add onto Taeil's tattoos. The red and blue inks clashed with each other even though they laid right by one another.

Taeil gripped your wrist harshly to get you to stop but the spiteful feeling sparked in your head. You grabbed his hand with your other hand and forced it on your lap. You continued drawing and coloring the shapes and words with a vengeful attitude coursing through your veins.

A break was reached and all the underbosses were dismissed from the meeting room to the dining room where food was going to be served. Yet, once the room was cleared he grabbed your wrists once more. "What the hell are you doing?"

You automatically started to pout as you deemed that this wasn't fun anymore. "I was just trying to get your attention." You mumbled as you got up and walked out of the big wooden doors. Taeil sighed and took a deep breath. He looked down to see hearts of blue and red around your initials he had tattooed on his thumb. Tiny cartoon characters danced across his hand and he realized he was overreacting.

He got up to go after you and caught you walking slowly to the dining room. He came up behind you and slipped a hand on your lower hip. "I'm sorry, baby." Taeil sighed and kissed your cheek warmly.

You shook your head and leaned into him. "No, I shouldn't have kept going when you said to stop. I'm sorry." You confided as you both turned into the room where everyone was already seated. "Here, how about this," he whispered. "Eat a little bit of food then me and you can go out for burgers after everyone leaves." He said and the look on your face gave him the energy to get through the next hour and a half.

"Really?" You asked and he nodded. You grabbed his face and gently kissed his cheek. "Now you have my seal of approval." You laughed as you rubbed the faint mark of lipstick off of his face.

You sat down ready to shove down the nasty fish eggs and wine that was about to be served.

Johnny

Nobody understood how Johnny got you to be his wife. Everyone thought that the differences would've drowned out the connection. Yet, anybody who doubted was silenced when they spent an hour with you both. The strongness of Johnny seemed minimalized whenever you walked into the room. It was quite magical.

You and Johnny sat on the 127 squad jet, bound towards New York where you both would be staying for 3 months for protection. The family was threatened with the wives and partners coming under the harshest threats.

Johnny took you and didn't look back. You were working an 18-hour shift at the hospital and he came with no warning. Just grabbed you and left.

Jaehyun and his wife were on the way to Connecticut while Mark and his girlfriend were on their way to New York too. Johnny, Mark, and Jaehyun were to meet in New York in their respective spaces to set out a plan of action. After that, Mark would spend a month in New York, then go up to Toronto, spending his last months in Vancouver. Johnny is splitting the trip up into half in New York, the rest in Chicago. Jaehyun was taking his chances by staying in Connecticut. Yet, he said he wouldn't hesitate running West if needed.set out a plan of action. The sudden news threw you off guard.

You sat with Johnny in the back of the plane in dead silence. "I'm scared." You admitted. "Why?" He asked as he turned his phone off and threw it on the table in front of both of you.

You curled up on the couch next to him, latching onto his arm protectively.  "Nothing is going to happen, sweetie." He came up to twirl your hair calmly as your heart started to race more. It was too quiet.

"Here, let's find something to do." He sighed and stood up, rummaging through the closets and storage of the plane. In a moment he returned with a pack of markers. "No paper." He frowned and sat back down with a tired sigh.

You reached forward to bring the thin cardboard box into your hands. You felt his hand rest on the small of your back as you pulled the markers out and twirled them in-between your fingers.

You looked to him to see his head leaned back and eyes shut. You grabbed his suit jacket and tugged. His head snapped up and it took him a minute to understand what you were getting at. "Oh." He sighed and shook the material off of his torso.

A simple t-shirt had been hidden underneath his blazer as you laid your eyes on his tattoos. He didn't have any hesitation as he rolled up his already short sleeves and got comfortable.

He was preoccupied with his phone as you hummed to yourself. You traced the sunflower in green and made tie-dye art on his forearms. Johnny was content with the silence and the fact he knew that you were okay and occupied.

"Wanna listen to some music, babe?" He asked as he opened his music app. "Duh." He clicked the playlist you had made for him and laughed as he watched you sing terribly into the marker. He studied your figure and facial expressions as you got caught up in coloring again. "This dragon is now going to have whiskers." You nodded but stopped quickly. "Or a mustache?" You looked at Johnny and he shrugged. "He'd look cute with some whiskers." You took the idea and plopped whiskers on the face of the dragon.

An associate who tagged along for the trip came into the back room with refreshments for the two of you. You both gladly accepted and were left alone again. "Gummy bears?" These are perfect. He threw the package at you but it went untouched as you kept drawing.

He could only laugh to himself as he opened the package for you and pulled a singular bear out. Johnny held it to your lips and was happy to you take it without much thought. You finally were happy with your artistic decisions and showed Johnny the finished piece.

"It's so nice, y/n!" He smiled and it felt like your brain was mush. You sat next to him with a content smile and a small yawn.

"Tired already?" at which you could only shrug as a response. "Then let's just watch some videos and relax." He kicked his feet up and pulled you so you were on his lap.

Johnny's phone played random videos as you latched onto him and went to sleep. He took some photos to set as his wallpaper and ultimately decided to join you in a nice nap.

(rrruuudddeee)

~~~

Yuta

"Yuta!" You called as you stepped into the large house. "I believe he's in the gazebo or his office, Miss." One of the worked associates greeted you at the front door. He grabbed the bags from your arms as you bowed politely. "Thank you so much." You were off towards the back of the house to find your husband.

"Yuta-!" You called as you rounded the corner of the house and into the back yard. The gazebo that laid just beyond the wood bridge that sat above the koi fish river-- was empty. You stopped and stared for a moment. You were sure that this is where he'd be.

"Up here, my love." A voice made you jump as you looked up to see Yuta at his office balcony. "Oh. Hi!" You waved as his eyes squinted in a smile. "How was your day out?" He asked as he brought his teacup up to his lips. "It was wonderful! I have something to show you!" You called and held up a small shopping bag in your hand. "I'll be right up!" You raced back into the house and up the stairs to where he already stood waiting for you in the doorway to his office.

"What's so amazing that you found today?" His eyebrow raised and you opened the bag quickly. "But first-" He interrupted you as he grabbed your face gently and gave you a passionate kiss. "What's this for?" You asked as he continued to stare at your face lovingly. "Just happy to see you is all." He smiled as his hands found their way into his pockets.

"Now, show me." He motioned to one of your hands that was stuck in the bag you held. You were brought back to reality and pulled the plastic package out of the bag.

"...Markers?" He asked and his tone of voice made you laugh. "Not just any markers. They're tattoo markers. They're safe for the skin." You corrected him and he rolled his eyes. "You're still on this?" Yuta asked with an amused expression. "Of course I am! This was the deal." You said shoving them into his hands so he could inspect the box.

He read the back and he had to admit...you were right.

"You said I could color your tattoos IF I found tattoo markers. Safe for the skin and everything!" He knew you did it...and that he had to hold up his part of the deal. "Okay fine." He sighed as he handed the package back. "Yay! Thank you!" You jumped and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"We can do it later before dinner." He agreed and watched you skip happily down the hall.

---- "Finally! You take forever." You sighed as you moved your sunglasses up your nose. The grass tickled your bare legs as Yuta sat next to you. "I couldn't help it. Taeyong didn't want to hang up the phone." You stood on your knees and moved behind Yuta. Your hands gently rubbed his shoulders as his head fell in an exasperated manner.

"I hate to burst your bubble, Yuta. But, I called you out here for the deal. Not a massage." He whined as he flopped down on the grass, his t-shirt lifting on his back. His head rested on his folded arms as you silently cheered.

"If this stains, I will make sure to throw out all color in your life. Your life will be a dull kaleidoscope-" "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, you big baby." You laughed and opened your pouch full of the tattoo markers.

You lifted the back of his shirt more till the full picture was revealed. A full mural was printed on his back with black ink that curved and straightened out into different objects. A dragon with demons following was the full picture...a dark reality...that you were going to make colorful.

You sat on his lower back and got to work filling in the different parts of the dragon. Every once in awhile he would spasm and try to make you mess-up. Yet, with a tug on his hair, he would become limp and obedient again.

"I'm almost done." Was the phrase that almost made him weep with joy. "Finally." He let it slip and he felt a tug on his hair again. "Ow." He rubbed his head. He could feel you draw and move the felt-tipped weapons on his back.

"Finished." You cheered and grabbed his phone to take a picture. You showed it to him and ombre scaled decorated the dragon with the demon's faces were colored red and blue. It looked nice. He saw a couple of smiley faces hidden in there and felt like everything looked complete.

"Okay, my turn now!" He yelled and grabbed your arm. He pulled you to the ground and grabbed the black marker that was in your hand. "Yuta, no." You tried fighting him. "This wasn't apart of the deal." You thrashed but he pinned you under his body weight. "Excuse me? Sorry, I don't speak Japanese." His Korean rambled off quickly from his tongue. You decided to just deal with it as he took his time drawing a mustache on your face along with random doodles he could think of.

He finally stopped his antics and took a picture with his phone to look at afterward. "You look so cute, look!" He pulled up the picture and shoved it in your face. "I look gross man!" You ridiculed but he wrapped you up in his arms quickly,

"My gross man."

Doyoung

"I thought they were going to be here already." You whined as your head hit the wall behind you. "Oh, can you stop whining for once?" He groaned as he took off his bulletproof vest. The air seemed to be getting thinner as the seconds ticked past. He stretched his legs out so they touched the opposite wall of the tiny bank vault. The velvet flooring seemed sticky as it felt like your chest was getting heavier.

You stood up and went to the closed door. Kicking and banging seemed like the only viable option. You pounded and kicked as hard and as much as you could with no luck. Tears stained your eyes as you turned around to look for another option out of here. "It's getting smaller." You whispered and Doyoung took the opportunity. "You're right, y/n. I can feel the walls pushing in!" He yelled and started to thrash and roll around on the ground. You could swear that the walls were shrinking and coming closer together. You dropped to the floor with your hands over your head, ready to be crushed by the vault walls.

Doyoung was pissed and vengeful in the beginning but now he just felt bad. You sat there silently crying as you rocked yourself back and forth. Doyoung sat opposite of you and just stared, waiting for you to snap out of it, yet, there was no hope as he watched you bring your legs closer to your chest.

He pushed your shoulder and you backed away from him quickly. "Calm down. You're wasting our air." He deadpanned. You could only nod and wipe the tears away from your eyes.

"Wanna play tic-tac-toe?" He asked and you looked around, surprised he was asking in a moment like this. "Um-" He didn't wait for an answer and grabbed your legs-- pulling you closer to where he sat.

Doyoung reached into your vest you were wearing and pulled an assortment of permanent markers out. You wiped the rest of your tears and grabbed the orange marker out of his hand. He lifted the sleeve of his long shirt and created the grid in black ink. "Wanna go first?" He asked and you took the opportunity to land an 'X' in the grid.

He followed soon after you and in no time-- he won.

Another game and another and another till no space was left. An hour had passed and you were still stuck in the bank vault.

"Fine. You win this tournament. But, I know I'll win next time." Doyoung said laying back and closing his eyes. The sweat from his bangs dripped down the side of his face.

The bottom of his shirt lifted and you could see the familiar black ink on his side. "Stop staring at me like that, pervert. I have rights." He pulled his shirt down and you let a laugh rip through your chest.

"Chill. I was just looking at your tattoo." You said and he shrugged. "What about 'em?" He asked as his eyes closed once more. "Nothing. Just looking," you sighed, "I wanted to be a tattoo artist before all of this." You motioned around the velvet interior. One eye peeked open and he looked suspiciously at your figure. "Are you any good?"

You stood on your knees and lifted your shirt so he could see the piece you were in the middle of finishing. Dragon and koi fish laid on your ribs in red ink.

"Woah." He lifted himself closer and gently touched the healing ink. "You did this yourself?" You nodded as he inspected it for a good minute.

"Give me one!" He said and shoved the red sharpie in your hand. He didn't give you time before laying on his side in a straight line. He lifted the side of his shirt and waited patiently.

You shrugged, finding nothing else better to do. He already had black ink staining his skin so you decided to add on. It was another simple dragon but it fit his character and personality perfectly.

Time seemed to slow as he tried to take a sneak peek of the masterpiece you were currently working on. He planned to take a picture later and get it done, yet, it would have to be in secret.

All of a sudden, the door popped open and cool air filled the small compartment. "Welcome back to Earth." Chenle greeted. You capped the marker and grabbed your vest as quickly as Doyoung.

You both high-tailed it out of the bank and into the street where the van was waiting with open doors. Doyoung and you jumped and rolled onto the back-ground of the van and the door was slammed shut by Jaehyun.

"Sorry about that. Jungwoo spilled Sprite on the control panel." Jaehyun explained and a guilty-looking Jungwoo sat in the passenger seat, not making eye contact.

"Woah. You got a new tattoo?" Jaehyun lifted Doyoung's shirt up more to see the red dragon you had drawn.

"Eventually."

(tf is this?? i’m not even correlating the gif with the story...because what in the actual fuck is THIS????)

~~~~~

Jaehyun

He was a very demanding man with particular tastes. You sat by yourself in your underground shop when a swarm of men came in all at once. They lead the way for a man in a sharp business suit.

I'm about to get shut down...aren't I?

He looked at you for a moment before looking around and coming towards you. "Are you the shop owner?" His voice was smooth with undertones of threatening. "Depends on who's asking," I answered honestly, "If it's for ink work or compliments: me. If you have any problems then I'll turn you over to my manager, Lucifer." You wiped down the glass counter in front of you. His chuckle rang sliced through the thick tension.

"Lucifer." You sang and made kissy noises. A long black haired cat hopped onto the glass counter next to you, hissing at the men and laying on its back. His back stretched as his paws grew long and pointy nails only for a moment. "Oh be nice, Luci." You called and picked the cat up in your arms.

"So how can we help you today?" You smiled and the man looked at you and sighed. "This will do." He called over his shoulder and you heard a bang of your shop door. Men walked around you to your workroom and began going through your papers. "Do you have any affiliations with any gangs in the local or surrounding areas?" The man asked as you dropped the cat onto the glass.

"No." You blurted and it was met with a smile. "Well, you have caught the interest of Neo Culture-" "Oh hell no." You shook your head and came around the counter. You pointed towards the staircase that was capped with the 'exit' door. "Leave." You demanded, yet, he stood still.

"I don't think you understand how this works." His smile made you shiver. "You were picked. You can't just...refuse." He motioned to the room. "You are on Neo Culture property and territory. You will work for us in exchange for a pretty...hefty amount of cash-" "And a bullet in my head if another gang comes by?" You questioned with your arms crossed over your chest. "Well, you don't need to worry about that till they show up...do you?" His reasoning made you angry.

"I just want a simple fill-in today. And if you do well, then you'll be taken care of." He went into his coat pocket and pulled out a stack of paper. "Rent, bills, groceries, and spending money. Not to mention guaranteed protection from the most feared crime family in the Asiatic continent." He smiled as he handed over the piece of paper.

You looked at it and it was of a dragon that needed to be shaded and filled in. You knew that you needed to do this...or say bye-bye to your shop and dreams.

You sighed and looked at Lucifer who sat grooming himself.

"It's all clear, sir." One of the men popped his head out of the back curtain. The man smiled at you and stuck out his hand. "Do we have a deal?" He asked and you regretted the decision as you felt your hand reach itself out in front of you. "Deal." You sighed and you lead him back to the workroom.

He made himself comfortable as he draped his jacket across the waiting chair and unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt. He lifted his business shirt until a blank tattoo was shown on the front section of his ribs.

You got yourself ready off of what the paper described. Black and red shading with a black streak thrown across the dragon's eyes. 1-2-7 was bent across the dragon's stomach as 5 stars surrounded the head of the dragon mimicking a crown.

"Lucifer. Out." You called and the cat meow'd before walking out of the curtain. "Want to listen to music while I work?" You asked and he shook his head 'no' as he preoccupied himself on his phone.

You worked quickly and efficiently as he didn't dare look at your work.

2 hours went by and you were done. "Finished." You said standing up and disposing of the used needles. He stood up and looked into the body-length mirror on the other side of the room. "Woah." Was all you heard.

"This is good work." He said and you awkwardly smiled while coming closer to him with saniderm and healing gel. "Take off the saniderm underwater, so I suggest a shower and apply the gel gently. Change the saniderm at the same time tomorrow then after that you can wait up to 6 days after to change." You explained as you rubbed the gel on the tattoo and stuck a big square of saniderm on his torso.

"Why, thank you,-" "y/n." You cut him off and you could see him smile as you turned away.

"Nice name." He smiled, "Thanks...I guess." You shrugged. "Well, some other members will be in for some days to come. Money has already been left under your counter." He redressed as you cleaned up your station.

"I hope to see you soon, y/n." He smiled and walked off in an eerie aura. You heard your shop door open and close.

You rested your hands on your counter and let a huge sigh escape your chest. Meow.

You looked over to see Lucifer peeking his head in.

"I know. He was really weird."

(back tf up?? in the middle of a pandemic??)

~~~~~

Jungwoo

"Stop running away from me you tree!" You leaped from the couch and onto your boyfriend's back. "No! You'll never catch me!" He tried to shake you off of him, yet, you latched onto him as tight as you could.

"Damn your koala grip." He tried to swing his body around and throw you to the ground. Your hands went to cover his eyes as you began to panic. "Quit moving so fast!" You pleaded and he stopped abruptly. You scrambled off of his back and just sat with your legs outstretched on the floor.

You looked up at him with a look that could kill. "Just let me have fun." You pushed yourself off the floor and pointed a finger in his face. "You can. Just not on me." He moved your hand away from his face.

You groaned and sat on the couch in a huff. "You're no fun, Woo." You muttered and he couldn't help but smile at your pouty nature.

"Sure. Whatever you say, cutie." He said excusing himself down the hall. You heard the door to the bedroom close and you were left alone. You were going to color those damn tattoos even if it killed you. You turned on the TV and watched some shows. 40 minutes had passed and you knew that Jungwoo had to be asleep.

You snuck to the closet by the kitchen and threw the door open to find the bucket of markers. You grabbed your favorite out of the selection and were off down the hall.

The door was silent as you swung it open quickly. Jungwoo laid passed out on top of the sheets. His arms were folded underneath his head as you watched his chest rise and fall slowly...in a serene manner...but it was too calm. Chaos and fun were needed.

Tip-toeing was your best option as you swiftly made yourself over. You watched his eyes roam the inside of his eyelids as you realized he was completely knocked out.

You crawled on your space of the bed and uncapped the marker with a slight struggle. The pop made Jungwoo's eyelids squeeze and release quickly.

Your heart was filled with a mischievous attitude as you softly traced along the stars that were placed on his inner bicep. Pinks and oranges were plopped onto his skin as he laid unconscious.

A couple of cartoon characters and messages later you were bored. "Guess you are right. I really do have the mind of a goldfish." You mused quietly as you closed the marker and shoved them off the bed.

You laid across Jungwoo's torso and rolled onto him so he could wake-up. "It's like watching a toddler, I swear." He groaned as he grabbed you and didn't let go.

"I could've sworn that coloring would've kept you busy for at least an hour." He sighed and you just looked at him as if he had grown 5 heads. "I'm not stupid, y/n. Don't look at me like that." Jungwoo laughed and pinched your cheek.

He held onto your waist with one arm as he examined what you had drawn on the other. "Awe they're so cute." He mused and you looked at your work once more.

"Can I get a tattoo?" You asked and he only looked at you. "Do what you feel is right, but please...please think it through." He sighed and held onto you with both hands.

"Deal."

(ooo...fluffy looking jungwoo)

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 10- Peaches

“Here kitty, kitty. Come get your goddamn treats.”

Billy’s on his knees in the backyard, his face pressed into the ground as he reaches blindly under the shed for the orange and white cat who moved right into their yard. She had babies in their empty doghouse last spring, but even now that the litter was all grown up and wreaking havoc on the neighborhood elsewhere, mama kitty refused to leave.

It wasn’t like her being there ever particularly bothered Billy, she was outside, he was inside or not home at all, so he didn’t see why it mattered that she wanted to sleep on their porch every now and again.

At least not until Neil said he’d put antifreeze in the cat food Max left on the porch if he caught her digging up Susan’s flower beds again, and Neil Hargrove had never made a promise he didn’t intend to keep, so then it was absolutely necessary that Billy get to this cat first.

Everything else, he’d already tried, hiding the food inside, which Max, oblivious to Neil’s threat, had put right back the next morning, putting oranges and mothballs and everything else that was supposed to repel stray cats in the garden, but everytime, the cat came back. She wouldn’t stay away.

So this was his last resort, getting scratched to shit every time he got close to her, over extending his shoulder from reaching so far under where he’d cornered her, and getting covered in dirt, all just to catch some poor little flea bag.

It’s hot outside, he’s bleeding, and he just wants to catch this stupid thing so whatever Neil does to her won’t be on his conscious, but he’s done. He rolls over onto his back, out of breath and holding his hand up to assess the stinging red scratches all over it.

And what do you know, the moment he’s given up, the little shit crawls out and just sits right on his chest like she wasn’t tearing him to shreds a second ago.

He chuckles, something between frustration and genuine amusement, tipping his head back on the grass and sighing. “So you gonna let me help you now, kitty cat?”

He brings his hand up to her and she bumps her head against it, and already he’s starting to figure her out. Like him, it seems miss kitty here trusts on her terms and hers alone, and it’s claws out if you try to push her boundaries.

Actually catching her wasn’t really something Billy thought he’d be able to do, so he didn’t have a plan now that that had happened. He pets down her back, feeling every last one of her vertebrae as he does so, and says absently, “What are we gonna do with you now, pretty kitty.”

And that gives him an idea, as to where he could take her far far away from his dad, and that's Steve’s house all the way over in Loch Nora. A pretty kitty for his pretty boy.

He picks her up off his chest so he can sit up without her running away, her claws digging into his shoulder protected only by a tank top thin enough that she digs right into his skin. But even though she’s holding on for dear life, she’s not fighting him, so that’s a good sign.

He stands up with one hand, the other still supporting the cat, and he gets to work on getting her out of here before Neil can get home from work and throw a wrench in his plan.

Max had bought and borrowed from Dustin all kinds of food and toys and beds for the spoiled porch cat, which was part of the reason why Neil was so bothered by her so much in the first place, so he carries her inside and calls for Max to help him get all that stuff together so he can take her to Steve.

They get it all in a box that Max carries to the car for him. Before he gets in, the cat now standing on his shoulders, she asks, “Where are you taking her?”

“A friend.” He answers simply, and Max scrunches her nose, asking, “Why?”

“Neil’s allergic, asked me to do something about her leavin’ her dander everywhere.” He lies and, judging from the look on her face, Max knows it’s not true, but doesn’t really want the full story anyways.

The entire time in the car, the cat climbs on the back seats screaming her little head off, and Billy’s not sure if she’s afraid or if getting her out of the elements just unlocked some part of her personality he had yet to see. Either way, he feels ridiculous telling her every two seconds, “Okay, I get it.” and “Stop complaining, I’m taking you somewhere nice.”

When he gets to Steve’s, he leaves his car running with the cat still inside, just in case Steve were to hate the idea of having a pet and he had to take her somewhere else. He hopes not, doesn’t know where else he’d take her in that case except maybe Tommy’s, but they let their cats outside anyways, defeating the purpose.

He knocks on the door, partially forgetting how much of a mess he is after chasing her until Steve opens the door, his wide eyes as he reaches and grabs one of his hands, all scabbed over with itchy scratches. “What happened, Bill?”

“It’s nothin’ bad this time, I was catchin’ a cat.”

Steve narrows his eyes, not believing his cover because of the countless other bruises and cuts he’d shown up at his door with, and as many lies as he’d tried to cover them up with, “A cat?”

“Yep. Momma kitty was living in our backyard, and Neil wasn’t too happy ‘bout it.”

“Well? Did you catch her?”

“Mhm, she’s out in my car right now.”

His tone switches, having apparently grilled Billy enough to believe him, “And you brought her to me?”

“Is that okay?”

“Yes! I’ve never had a cat! Go get her!”

The second he opens the car door the cat jumps out and he catches her, swinging her up to hold her on his shoulders again, and this time, she doesn’t even claw at him.

Steve gasps all dramatically when he sees her and holds his arms out for Billy to her over to him. He pretends it doesn’t bother him when she cuddles right up under Steve’s chin, purring like he’d never heard her as if she wasn’t being a little hellion to him this morning.“What’s this little ladies’ name?”

Billy shrugs, “Didn’t give her one yet. Figured if I was dumping her on you you might as well get to pick it.”

“What’s your name sweet girl?” Steve coos at her, scratching he between her ears, “How about… Peaches!”

“Peaches? Stevie, that’s a little boring, don’t you think?”

“Nope!” He holds her up to his face and rubs their noses together, “Is your name Peaches, pretty kitty?”

The little shit meows, and Steve looks at him all smug like it means anything. Billy chuckles, and gives in, Steve always knows how to bend his will, “Alright, alright, Peaches it is.”

He reaches out to pet Peaches and she swats at him, making Steve bite the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh, and Billy’s wondering if he made a mistake bringing her here.

A pretty kitty for his pretty boy, but she turned out to be a spoiled little princess to the King.

[onlyfortheplot]

Joke? You ARE the joke!

➳ Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader

➳ Synopsis: 

“The Earth is flat.“ you said, emotionless. He looked at you like you were the stupidest person in existence. “And the Sun is a planet. Water isn’t a liquid. Plants can—“

“Sorry!“ he screeched, covering his ears at your ridiculousness, “I’m sorry for pouring the water on you. Just stop.”

➳ Warning: Slight language

➳ Word Count: 1.4K

A/N:

I had a writer’s block and I just watched my neighbor fall I cackled. And this is what came out. Hope you guys like?? Asks are CLOSED, but I’m most likely going to open them tomorrow, since Shiptember is coming. Anyway ENJOY! <3 ALSO. @omiswhore​ and @applepienation​ THANKS FOR GETTING ME OUT OF THE BLOCK. (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

“Open the damn door,“ you kicked door, irking at the muffled laughs from behind it, you sighed, slamming a fist against it. How dare they. This was the second — no third time you had been locked out. You pounded the door, muttering threats under your breath as your little brother let out a cackling laugh.

“Let. Me.In.“ Each word was a kick to the door. “Or I’m telling mom!“

“Or I’m telling mom,“ he mocked, as you kicked the door harder. 

“I’m older than you, you pea brained idiot.“ you huffed, sliding your pulsing hand down the door. Oh god. This was the worst. Not only did your clown of a brother lock you out, but you didn’t even have your phone. You groaned.

In fact that’s what you had ran back for. Your stupid phone that you had left on the windowsill of your room. You sighed, as you backed away from the door.

You hadn’t wanted to go out, or even leave your room. It was a new house, a new neighborhood. There wasn’t really anything you were excited for. Sure, you would be going to a new school in a few days. And sure, maybe going out and meeting new people might make high school more bearable. And, in your defense, you had tried to get to know your neighbor. But, that didn’t turn out as planned. 

You could still feel the chilling water, stroking your spine and running down your shirt. You shivered. 

“Go away, sis. Mom said too.“ You could hear the loud stomping as he scurried up the stairs. Probably to play video games. Lucky bastard. You huffed, crossing your hands over your chest as you stepped into the chilly air.

It wasn’t cold, or at least nothing she wasn’t used too. It was sunny, the sun streaming into your eyes, blinding you. But, it was windy. And you in a very thin sweater, were not lucky.

“What are you doing outside?“ you turned to side, a black-haired boy gave you a confused look. “In that.“ You huffed, turning your body towards him as he dropped the plastic bags onto his porch.

“I got locked out?“ you chuckled, he gave a lazy smile, “You?“

“Just some errands,“ motioning to the bags, “You wanna come in?“

You nodded appreciatively, walking towards him.

“Uh,“ he fumbled with his keys, “You don’t happen to be new.“ It sounded more like a statement than a question.

You gave him a teasing smile, “No, I’ve just lived under a rock, that’s why you never see me.”

He chuckled.

“New, huh, its an odd time to move,“ he offered, as he finally opened the door, “Ah finally— where did you move from?“

“From Miyagi— Do you need help?” you asked, gesturing for the bags he was carrying, “You’re inviting a stranger in, I might as well help.“

“One, I’m good,“ he said, flexing his muscles, “Two, you’re not a stranger. Not really.“ You smiled.

“Oh, and why is that,“ you batted your lashes. It was odd, you felt comfortable with him. Someone whose name you didn’t know, yet face you recognized.

“What’s your—“

“Kuroo Tetsurou, what in the gods name took you soo long,“ Oh well at least you have a name. He — Kuroo — looked at you sheepishly as he shook of his shoes, bending down to neatly place them to the side. You followed. Lingering as he stalked farther into the house.

“I’m home, pa!“ he shouted out, placing the bags on the table. 

You looked around in awe. It was such a neat and tidy house, barley anything was out of place. It was so unlike their own house, boxes still in need of opening, and litters of package paper in random corners of the house. 

“Neat.“ you muttered to yourself as you watched Kuroo’s back. Something about him was oddly familiar. 

“Tetsurou, did you kidnap someone?“ Kuroo looked at his father incredulously.

“Pa, this is our new neighbor. Y/N,” he motioned to his father, “My dad. Pa, Y/N.” It was a short ,an almost useless introduction. Certainly it was not enough for his father, who peered his eyes at you.

“Aren’t you the little lady, my boy poured water on?“ You gasped. So that’s where you had remembered him from. You whirled around, glaring at him.

“You never told me it was you,“ you accused him, he held his hands up.

“Its not a conversation starter,“ he exclaimed, looking from his disappointing father, to your accusatory glare.

“And throwing water on me is?“ you held your hips looking at him, “I almost got sick because of that.”

He fumbled on his words as he rubbed the base of his neck.

“Well, I made it up to you. My taking you in after you got locked out.“

“That has nothing to do with you pouring water on me.“

“It does!“ You raised your eyebrow, urging him to continue, “Ah,see, I helped you to build your immune system. Every time you almost get sick, your immune system gets stronger. So you can be healthier. It was a very basic study.“

You peered your eyes at the crap.

“Says who,“ you asked.

“Me.“

“Are you a scientist now?“

“No. But,“ he scrunched his eyebrows, looking for a reason, “science is science. No matter who says it.“

“The Earth is flat.“ you said, emotionless. He looked at you like you were the stupidest person in existence. “And the Sun is a planet. Water isn’t a liquid. Plants can—“

“Sorry!“ he screeched, covering his ears at your ridiculousness, “I’m sorry for pouring the water on you. Just stop.”

You grinned at your new found power. 

“Are you sure about that,” you said, a playful glint in your eye.

“Yes!” he hissed, uncovering his ears, “Yes!”  

“Are you two done?“ You both turned around, remembrance of the old man coming back to you. Blushing, you gave a low bow, apologizing. Good lord, it was your visit and you had already embarrassed yourself.

“Ah, sorry, sir — I mean Mr. Kuroo. Mr Kuroo sir,” you stumbled over your words, flushing harder as both Kuroo and the old man laughed at your antics.

“Don’t worry, L/N, he’s just old.“ he teased his father, who gave him an annoyed glance over, blatantly ignoring his comment. He leaned back in his chair, lifting a newspaper in front of his face, but you had caught the slight grin.

You smiled at that, looking to Kuroo who gave you an odd look.

“Miyagi, you said.“ he hummed thoughtfully, scratching his chin. You looked at him. Why was he thinking of what you had said minutes before, “Are you perhaps from Karasanou?“

“Yes, how did you—“ you gasped, realization hitting you. You had recognized him from, “Are you the one who Tsukishima complains about all the time.”

“Complain?“ he dramatically clutched as his chest, “I taught him the ways of a wise man and he complains about me.“

You rolled your eyes.

“He called you ugly—”

“I’m handsome to a fault.”

“And annoying,”

“I am a saint.”

“And rude.”

“I am always kind.”

You gave him an incredulous look, narrowing your eyes. 

“He’s right.” you concluded, “You are annoying.”

“I second that,” the old man called out, as Kuroo turned to him,betrayed.

“Pa, why would you — “

“Sir, how did you deal with all his complaining?” you interrupted him, instead looking at his father.

“He was such a good boy back then.” he sighed, at the thought of Kuroo’s younger days, “So quiet. But, look at him now.” 

“All talk, no bite.”

You laughed, as Kuroo glared at him.

“Pa, how could you betray me like that. And to a stranger.” he wiped fake tears from his eyes.

“Stranger?” he raised an brow, “Is that why you talk about her all the time.” You didn’t laugh this time, looking at Kuroo, who looked like he was going to explode.

“Pa!” he shouted, turning away from you, “Stop talking — “

“No, Mr. Kuroo, please do tell.” you grinned mischievously.

“Lets see,” he had propped the paper in his lap as he held five fingers up.

“He talks about pouring water on — “

“Pa.”

“And he talks about you never leaving your room,”

“Pa!”

“And he talks about you singing in — “

“PA!” he shouted, hands waving all over the place, “Stop, please!”

You cackled at his disheveled figure.

Oh this you could get used to.

“No, sir, go on, I want to know about him,” Kuroo whipped around to you a warning sting in his eyes.

Oh you would really love this.

The old man laughed, as he crossed a leg over another, leaning farther into the chair.

“It all started on an uneventful evening — “

“PA!”