#Paints & Sanitary

[screamn-robo-drawin]

I am a necromancer first and chef second.

[todaysdocument]

[View of Metropolitan Fair Building in New York City, April 14 to April 23, 1864.]

Record Group 111: Records of the Office of the Chief Signal OfficerSeries: Mathew Brady Photographs of Civil War-Era Personalities and Scenes

This item is a black and white stereograph card that shows two nearly identical images side by side.  The image is a long view of a large, temporary gallery with dozens of paintings on display.  Paintings are closely hung along a wall.  Opposite the camera is a display of the large canvas of Washington Crossing the Delaware.  A few smaller paintings surround it.  Benches are in the center of the room.  The double photograph would have been placed into a special viewer which would cause the image to appear in three dimensions.

[mjm-home-essentials]

Essential Home Products

At MJM Home Essentials, we offer a complete selection of quality products to make your home both functional and stylish. From cutting-edge electronics and durable hardware tools to vibrant paints and reliable sanitary items, we have everything you need for your next project. Our goal is to bring the best in convenience, quality, and variety right to your fingertips. Transform your space with essentials that last!

[abbasicreation01]

Architecture Consultants

RCC Door Frame Manufacturers

Paver Blocks Manufacturers

Steel and Cement Shop

Paint Shop

Sanitary Wholesalers

RCC Pole Manufacturers

Building Contractors

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !

part 2, part 3, part 4

"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.

When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.

To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.

So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?

He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.

"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“

He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.

After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"

You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."

You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.

When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.

When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.

Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.

With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.

So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.

"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."

Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.

You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.

"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.

Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.

"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.

"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.

Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.

Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.

[inkwell-god]

My notes say to talk about this so here goes.

If you see a young boy (0-47) holding a hand bag, either legitimately compliment the bag, his outfit, or say nothing. Enough of this, "Oh, NicE PnrSe NaEM" It's ridiculous. Whats wrong with purses? You carry one, why shouldn't he? And building off of that, stop judging boys for wearing nail polish.

Completely separate rant, but why do people think that sanitary products are inappropriate, and so boys are not supposed to know about their existence? It honestly gets pretty stupid. I mean, do you really expect a guy to live in a house with girls and never learn what the things are, and what they're for? YOU are the reason its awkward. I'm not scared of a pad, and I think you look dumb whispering and shooting furtive looks around to help your delusion that guys don't know what sanitary products are. I'll humour you, and pretend I don't know what pads are, and protect your precious bubble, but inside I'm done with you. I could have picked up that pile of spilled pads twenty minutes ago, but because you think I should pretend they aren't a thing I had to ask three different girls to do a four second task.

[tofuxtea]

𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍 | torture + non-con

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — art the clown x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, art the clown in general, torture, non-con, slight kidnapping (?), bondage, knife play, blood + blood play, violence, fingering (not sanitary knowing art, wash yall’s hands !!), slight dacryphilia

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — foreword, i do NOT condone anything in this fic ! david howard thornton himself actually said art would be against this and i find art a comfort character, this is just for kinktober purposes 😞 if you guys are NOT comfortable with non-con or torture please do not read this, spare yourself the pain please i beg 😭 i will not be upset bruh

you were a force to be reckoned with, that much was evident.

whether it was because you were drunk or with a friend group that made peer pressure feel good, it didn’t matter to the black and white clown you approached at the club. he had been standing there for the past hour or so, staring at you through the split in the crowd.

obviously he had a crush on you. that was what your friend whispered in your ear with a little nudge to your side and a drunken giggle.

your devil costume left very little to the imagination, faux red leather hugging your curves. that had to be it, without a doubt. you had already been getting attention throughout the night, so this was only more fuel to the fire that was your ego.

his costume was detailed to say the least. the fake blood on his costume looked rusty as opposed to the cherry coloring on everybody else’s clothes and faces. he must’ve made it himself.

it took a few more pushes of encouragement until you finally went up to him, wondering why he was unable to take his eyes off of you. it wasn’t flagged as creepy in your fogged mind, rather flattered.

“you’ve got a staring problem, don’t ya?” you shouted over the music with a giggle, leaning against the bar counter for support. your high heels definitely didn’t cheap out on the high part.

looking at him up close definitely made your mind wander a little more. he was much taller than you — likely over six foot — and seemed pretty lanky under that suit. his eyes were a brilliant blue, starkly contrasting the black makeup neatly circled around them, and they couldn’t seem to get away from you. his hooked nose, as well as his entire face, was painted white and had a singular black dot on the tip of it.

something about him piqued your interest, and it only grew when he didn’t answer you. instead, he smiled and tilted his head down, like he was feigning some bashfulness. it was cute. you respected the commitment to the act.

“i don’t suppose you want something from me?” those drinks you had earlier were kicking in, making your confidence soar to unnatural heights. “what’s your name?”

you expected him to drop his little facade and lean in and tell you. but he didn’t. he reached for your wrist and shifted your palm upwards. you were beyond curious, but allowed him into your space.

he dragged his finger across your palm a few times, you piecing the motions together. a-r-t. “art. oh, your name’s art?” the clown nodded with a wide grin.

that wasn’t his last trick, it seemed. from the palm of his hand, he revealed a fake red rose. the synthetic petals were slightly crumpled and stained with drops of something even darker than its natural color.

it was a little corny, but you blushed nonetheless. it was sweet. he gestured for you to take it, so you did.

“hey, let’s get outta here. the music’s making my head hurt.” the second part was a lie, but your motives were relatively pure. you thought that he was only silent because of the volume. maybe the fresh air would make him open up a little bit more.

art nodded a little too eagerly and started moving you towards the door. you could only give your friends a very brief glance, them offering you smiles and raised thumbs before you vanished outside. you would soon wish that they’d kept you inside.

you took in a deep breath of fresh air outside, observing the parking lot. there was not a person in sight. they were all inside. except for you and art.

art. you spun around to see where he had gone and found him hunched over a black trash bag. initially, you were going to pull him away from it, thinking he was digging through waste when he suddenly straightened up and turned towards you. his hands were behind his back.

words got caught in your throat and you found yourself laughing to fill the silence. a wave of anxiety washed over you until art revealed another fake rose. this one was attached to a plastic stem.

but while you graciously accepted his second offering, you failed to notice the bat he had brought down onto the side of your head.

—

you never had a concussion in your life, but you were sure this was what it felt like.

you awoke to a blinding headache and nausea bubbling in your stomach. your vision refused to adjust properly, but you couldn’t miss art’s black and white suit in front of you. your depth perception wasn’t the most reliable, but your body knew to start acting.

you went to kick and scream but found it futile. duct tape muffled your cries, though it was ripped off faster than you could register it was there, and thick rope around your limbs kept you still against the table you were draped over. a few blinks helped you understand your predicament: you had been moved to some sort of warehouse and were tied down to a cold, steel table that had goosebumps prickling on your exposed skin.

your clothes were intact, which made you sigh. one victory.

though you weren’t sure for how long. art hovered over you from the side of the table, his sick grin mocking you as he eyed you from head to toe. it felt like he had already undressed you just by the way he was sizing you up.

that came next. with his one hand that was free, he started to drag his finger down the center of your chest. the closer he got to the low-cut hem of your top, the louder your protests became. art was prepared for that.

he brought a thick chain with several rusted scalpels and medical scissors down onto your legs, creating multiple shallow breaks in your skin. you screamed out. he whipped you again. this time you bit back guttural cries and accepted his hand.

his face screamed disgust and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe that you would ever ask him to stop. the way his creased white face morphed was eerie. it rendered you silent while he unzipped your tiny red corset.

you flinched when it popped open, exposing your tits. you hurried to cover yourself but your arms only moved as far as the rope allowed you to. either way, art flung his chain at the arm closest to him and you had to choke back a scream.

blood seeped from countless wounds, warmth running down and onto the table. you squirmed and cried as much as art allowed you to. he seemed to enjoy your agonized writhing, running dirtied fingertips over your open cuts.

“please, please,” you whined. it was mindless rambling at that point because you knew he wouldn’t.

he had shifted his attention down to your pleather skirt, slowly undoing the zipper on the side. you wanted to kick and fight but you dreaded the idea of getting cut into even worse. so you let him peel it off of you, along with your panties.

“oh god, oh god,” you sobbed, clamping your legs together to keep some of your dignity. art must have been keeping a spare blade tucked in his hand because suddenly he sliced deep into the side of your thigh. you couldn’t help the scream that tore from you, which earned you another gash along your ribcage.

you started to think he was bleeding you dry as slowly as he could. but not after he had his fun first. your body shook underneath his gloved hand as it traveled down your stomach and towards your bare pussy.

part of you thought he was going to force your legs apart and jam as many scalpels inside of you as he could manage, so you resisted when he tried to pry them open. but when he did, after lashing you a few more times, he ran his blood soaked fingertips through your folds, making it slick for him.

it was nauseating at first. but after he pushed two fingers into you, the strange sensation of his fingerless gloves sliding inside, that feeling simmered into pleasure. you choked on a whine, your body fighting the urge to roll your hips into his hand.

your skepticism prevailed the second he slid his blade across your stomach. you cried out, and art felt your cunt squeeze around his fingers. the reaction was satisfactory to him and he gave you a few more markings before deciding you’d had enough for now.

the blade clattered onto the table a moment later and his freed hand went to your breast. you couldn’t deny what it did to you. the pain was beginning to make you delirious and you melted into his touch a few times. you pulled against your restraints but it didn’t get you very far.

for a while, he worked into a steady pace that had you crying out with more pleasure than pain. your cuts stung, but those sharp pains added to your rapidly building orgasm, that was only really accumulating with your eyes closed.

art didn’t seem to appreciate that, quickly finding his blade and carving something into your skin. it tore you out of your momentary tranquility and a scream ripped from your throat. as you did, his other hand curled inside of you and a moan fought to follow. pain and pleasure battled inside of you, and it was sick that the pleasure was threatening to win.

your body twisted to get away from the scalpel in your side but it was to no avail. he cut and sliced until he had crudely carved the word “CUNT” into the fleshy part of the side of your waist. blood oozed out of the deep gashes and art ran his gloved hand through it, smearing it all over your skin. crimson covered your breast as he came up to grab it again.

you got the message to look him in the eyes while you came, which came soon after he added a third finger. how he was able to do it with ease made you sick. you shouldn’t have been enjoying yourself in any way. you would probably need stitches and therapy after this.

but now, all you could focus on was his long fingers. the feel of his fabric white fingerless gloves inside of you, probably soaked with your blood and slick. your gashes burned every time your back arched off of the table but somehow, it intensified the growing fire in your stomach. that tensing of your thighs, the weak thrusts of your hips that attempted to match his.

it amazed you how he was still silent, blue beady eyes focused on you and only you. they started to widen when your moans went pitchy, like he was encouraging you to let go. he didn’t look so scary then. his face went closer to yours, and he was shocked that you didn’t immediately flinch back.

he offered you slow nods as his fingers continued their assault on you. your thighs parted in acceptance and defeat, your orgasm finally crashing into you. moans came out mingled with sobs because it was over.

your mind was spinning, and he granted you a moment to compose yourself before getting back to work. breathy pants quickly turned into raspy screams once more as he swiftly carved something else into the bloodied inside of your thigh:

ART WAS HERE

[diejager]

Saw your requests are open can I please please please ask for Pyramid Head? Any crumbs of him pls you write him really well. Size kink and belly bulging or gaping, or him eating the reader out if you need any inspo? I don't know if I want him to have just one long, slimy tongue under the mask or a whole mess of bloodied guts and tentacles tbh

Behaviour actually had a tongue for Pyramid Head’s model-

Tongue Cw: cunnilingus, bulge from tongue, tell me if I missed any.

Pain and pleasure were synonymous with Pyramid Head, his pleasure stemmed from pain and your pain brought him ecstasy. You were hesitant at first, looking at the sharp wires that made up his restraints and cages, fearful of pain, of hurt. They were all rusted, sharp barbes turned brown with age and dried blood of his prior victims, it was neither sanitary, nor was it secure.

But you’d learned to take from pain, every slash and every stab from a killer became something you expected, something you awaited with batted breath. You learned to use pain to further your excitement, your pleasure and your enthusiasm, you found pleasure in pain and it made your world much easier. It made Pyramid Head rumble, his body trembling with arousal and excitement to finally have you the way he wanted, an entity of pain and regret using what he was made of you bring you satisfaction.

You let him tie you up, wires wrapped around your wrists, keeping you still from his ministration, pulling and squirming under him. The barbes cut into your skin, small nicks and scrapes that bled the metal red with fresh blood. The pain pulsed down your arms, warming the skin under his palms and made your clit twitch, it made the knot in your core coil, throbbing strongly between your legs.

His hold was unmoving, the strong grip of his hands on your thighs, spreading you open to his slick and able tongue, pumping into you with deep and harsh thrusts. His fat tongue curled inside of you, pressing against the walls of your cunt and tapping your bruised cervix with hard hits. You bulged with his tongue, the pink muscle pushing your skin outwards with intent of watching you swell, searching for the tightness of your cunny when he makes you look at your navel bulge with every thrust, popping up when he pushed more of his tongue into you.

Although he was bruisingly rough, he was still mindful of your safety, often making sure you were all right, to be sure that your whimpers and cries were one of pleasure and not agony —he wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you too deeply, to scare you away from him. He would purposely loosen his grip from time to time, reassuring growls that would send you reeling, a rumble vibrating into your core and invisible eyes keeping track of your expression.

His tongue swirled, curling on itself before twisting and turning inside you, rolling the rough and asymmetrical texture of the ball to push at different, sensitive spots of your walls. You wailed, high keens with tears rolling down your cheek and drooling in sheer, mind numbing pleasure. Your body burned, toes tingling with pleasure and fingers curling in ecstatic pain, your eyes never left Pyramid Head’s face, watching him through dazed eyes, his hulking figure and nimble tongue.

You were so close, the unwavering heat and tight coil in your core becoming unbearably present as was Pyramid head and the sting of your wounds added to it, coursing through your veins in a hot flash. He groaned, feeling you grip his tongue, pushing more and more into you, admiring your writhing figure, back arched and hips buckling into his face, crying out his name over and over again. It was as addictive to him as it was to you, blinded by fiery, white pleasure, squirting over him, painting him in more than rusted metal and dried blood.

You mumbled lowly, expressing your gratefulness while your head rolled back, eyes heavy with exhaustion. He grumbled, a happy and satisfied sound, thumbs rubbing circles on the bruised skin of your inner thigh.

[vampzity]

snake bites | S.MG

“the kisses ain’t free, you gotta pay with your body.” — kissland, the weeknd

—✩ pairing: tattoo artist! mingi x f! reader

—✩ genre: tattoo artist au, smut, nonidol, one shot, explicit content mdni 18+, dom mingi, sub reader

—✩ synopsis: you decide to get your first tattoo with a well renowned artist in town, who is constantly praised for his detailed work. when deciding to get your tattoo in a vulnerable area, he can’t control his sexual urges and neither can you.

—✩ wc: 2.4k

[warnings]: *not proofread* nipple play, nipple sucking, edging, consented sex (wrap before you tap!), pet names (slut, love, doll, princess, baby), mentions of whimpering, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft to rough sex, he’s overall gentle with reader, slight choking, breeding kink??

a/n: i had this sitting in my drafts for a month just because i keep coming up with new ideas and never finishing the older ones, so here y’all go :))

You flinched with every jab the needles took at your skin. Keeping your eyes clenched for a majority of the time, you dreaded how long it was taking to finish your tattoo. However, you can’t blame anyone but yourself for that. You decided to trust your dear best friend and have your first tattoo be on your sternum.

That was your first mistake.

Mingi noticed your discomfort as he tried to work through your tattoo, but the more you squirmed, the harder it was. It annoyed him just a bit but he’s dealt with way worse situations from other appointments, this was simply another cakewalk for him. Nothing he couldn’t get through.

“You doing alright, doll?”

You opened your eyes to meet his own, face red with embarrassment as he noticed the squirming coming from you. You shook your head up and down, quickly looking away from his low gaze on you. He sighed softly, continuing on with the bits of tattoo that he had to finish.

You kept your eyes focused on him from time to time, taking note of the tattoos that covered his arms and neck. You noticed his piercings, making you feel a soft attraction toward him. The rings in opposite ends of his bottom lip as well as the small studs on his ears. Black and silver rings covered his fingers, only enhancing the veins that appeared on his hands from before as you smiled slightly at his painted black nails.

Truth was as cold and nonchalant Mingi seemed to be, he was just as nervous as you. He’s don’t plenty of tattoos, seen plenty of women in various places and positions, yet none of them compared to you. In his eyes, you were a model. One he’d love to use for his tattoos.

“I told you, he’s super chill and he’s well known in town, why would he wanna ruin that reputation by harassing some girl?”

You rolled your eyes remembering Wooyoung’s words. You felt stupid for even assuming anything was bad about Mingi. He wasn’t a bothersome at all, he rarely even spoke to you throughout the process.

If you hadn’t noticed, he closely observed your body; the way your breasts were positioned even if you held them back, the way your body curved, the way it proceeded to squirm under his touch, how warm you might feel if—

Jesus Christ, stay focused.

Mingi quickly snapped out of his thoughts as he began to finish up the final touches to your tattoo, soon grabbing a mirror in order to hold it in front of you.

“What do you think?” he mumbled, quickly turning away from you so he could clear his thoughts.

You observed your tattoo closely, moving the mirror around to reveal areas that may be hiding from under the cleavage. You smiled at the reflection, feeling a small amount of relief wash over you as you began to set the mirror down.

“It’s beautiful, you do such lovely work.”

You watched as his hands began to clean his area. He began to take some of his rings off in order to keep it sanitary and placed them to the side. Oh how you adored rings on a man, how heavily it turned you on. You felt your face flush red as the thought of him. He was right in front of you, and it seemed morally wrong to feel about your tattoo artist in this way. Didn’t it?

“Thank you. I’m going to finish cleaning and closing up shop. It’ll be $120 in cash alright?”

You nodded at his words, digging into your purse for your wallet. As you continued to shuffle for a few minutes, a small amount of worry appeared on your face when your wallet was no where to be found. You continued to shuffle, grabbing the attention of the young man as he was locking the door to his shop. He turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow at the worried look on your face.

“You don’t have the money, do you?”

His deep voice sent chills down your spine, causing you to stop looking for your wallet as he walked towards you. You nervously shuffled once more through your purse, refusing to meet his eyes as he drew closer.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.”

He placed his hand under your chin, bending over to meet your eye level. His eyes hung low as he admired you, his tongue playing with the snake bite piercings on either sides of his lip. Your face flushed red as you noticed the few amount of inches between the both of you. He smirked at you, moving his hand from your chin down to your inner thigh.

“What are yo— shh.. listen doll, I know you’ve been eyeing me the entire time. I felt your heart beat every time my face got close to you.”

Your breath hitched as his words, feeling embarrassed over his observations on you. You looked away from his heavy gaze, making him pout slightly at your actions.

“It’s okay if you can’t pay, doll.”

He leaned in to place a kiss against your neck, making you gasp slightly.

“You can pay with your body… if you’d like.”

He continued to kiss against your neck, following it with small nibbles that earned a small moan from you. His hand made its way under your shirt and to your breast, placing his thumb against your nipple. He began to fondle it softly, continuing to kiss around your neck.

Quiet moans left your mouth as he used his thumb to rub against your nipple, slowly picking up his tempo as you expressed the need for him. A part of you knew it was wrong to hook up with your tattoo artist, but to your body it felt so right. It was something you wanted so badly, all you wanted was to give in to his delicate touch.

“Do you like that princess? Or do you want something different?”

He placed one last kiss on your neck before lifting your shirt over your head and placing his tongue against your nipple. He moved his tongue in circle motions, sucking softly against it as he held you still from squirming.

He teased you overwhelmingly as you struggled to keep your body from squirming under him. You placed your hands against his head, raking your fingers through his hair as he continued to suck at your nipples, leaving them red and swollen with pleasure. Your face grew red, body filled with heat as he slowly pushed you to an orgasm you didn’t think was possible.

He undid the button to your shorts and rested a hand against your stomach, lifting his head up to look at you.

“Is this alright with you, doll?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes away from him. He sat up slightly and placed his hand against your cheeks, pulling you to look at him.

“Look at me when I ask you something love, didn’t anyone teach you manners?”

Your eyes widened as you met his. They filled with lust as he smirked slightly to your embarrassed response. He pulled himself to you, placing his lips against your own as he began to undo his own zipper. You sucked against his piercings, receiving a moan from him in return.

Mingi pulled away quickly, spit hanging from your lips as he hurriedly pulled your shorts down. Kneeling down he placed two fingers against your heat, spreading it slightly to admire the sight in front of him. He licked up it softly, sucking against your clit as his tongue swirled around it.

“Mm, fuck that’s so good.” you let out in a breathless tone.

Your head fell back as you struggled to keep your composure with his tongue exploring between your folds. His lip piercings only pushing up against your clit softly. He placed two fingers against your cunt, slowly pushing them in to see how comfortable you’d feel with him doing it. You slowly opened up your legs to him, clenching around his fingers every time he pushed them further.

“More, please give me more.” you begged.

Mingi laughed at your request, nervous as he didn’t want to hurt you. However, he did as you wished.

He began to move his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, all while his tongue danced around your clit. You moaned uncontrollably, arching your back slightly as he sucked the life out of you. With every moan you let out, he fastened the pace of his fingers, curling them slightly so they would hit your sweet spot.

“You’re such a slut. You’re seriously letting me fuck you like this, doll? So easily?”

Your hands clenched around the seat, eyes rolling back as he used his free hand to rub against your clit, two fingers still pumping in and out of you. Your moans grew louder and louder with each pump he gave, making his member rise slowly when it pressed against your leg. He tilted his head at you, watching you shake uncontrollably as you began to reach your high.

“M-mingi please.. I’m gonna..”

Did you really think he was going to let you off so easy?

He stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and placing them around your neck securely. You coughed a bit, as he dug his nails into your skin. Mingi gazed at you harshly as his free hand began to pull his pants down a bit, making you worry.

He’s tried long enough to be soft with you, but seeing how easily you fell apart under his touch awakened another side of him. His cock lingered in front of you, making you shiver at its girth and length. He rubbed the tip softly, letting out a gentle moan as he tapped it against your wet folds.

He looked up at your nervous expression, leaning over to place a soft kiss against your lips.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” he whispered.

He smiled softly at you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. You nodded at his reassurance, appreciating it but you were too far gone to just let this go. You grabbed onto his cock, his veins pulsating against your grasp as you shoved it into you. A loud moan came out of you, your walls clenching repeatedly around his girth.

Mingi’s eyes widened at tour actions, making him breath in slowly to get a hold of himself. He whimpered softly at how your walls squeezed him. He grabbed your hands, placing them over your head as he held them down. His pace began slowly, making sure you could get used to him before he dared to go at it.

“Fuck..” he groaned, throwing his head back. His eyes were low and full of lust as he focused his gazed back onto you.

“Let me know if I hurt you, okay doll?”

His pace was steady, feeling more and more aroused by the squelching noises that came from you. Your soft moans filled the room as he continued to fuck you. His hand came down to your breasts, fingers fondling with your nipples.

You let out a small cry of pleasure as his cold rings pressed against your nipples. Leaving a sweet stinging feeling against them. Without realizing, his pace sped up slightly, his cock now poking at your cervix.

“Mingi..” you mumbled, your hands holding onto his arms as he continued to play with your nipples. He raised an eyebrow to you, tilting his head as he fucked you relentlessly.

“Hm? You okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you felt his cock roam inside you. His veins poked at your walls, making you whimper under him as he fastened his pace more and more. Mingi’s groans intensified, sweat dripping from his head.

The feeling that lingered in your stomach from when Mingi had edged you returned, making you arch your back slightly. You could feel your high building with each thrust he gave to you, making you yearn for him more and more.

“Please..” you mumbled, barely able to speak.

He leaned over you, kissing your neck softly as his mouth hovered over your ear.

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

Butterflies soared in your stomach as he whispered to you, basically talking you through your high. Your face flushed red, whimpers still leaving you as he began to fuck you roughly. His cock pounded against your heat, spurts of precum dripping out of you as he hit your sweet spot.

“I’m.. please.. let me..”

You grip onto him tightened as your cunt squeezed onto his cock repeatedly, making him groan out in pleasure as he struggled to keep his pace. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer if you continued to do that.

“What’s wrong, baby? You wanna cum?”

You moaned slightly at his words, nodding quickly as you rolled your hips to his fucking, desperate for relief. Mingi’s breath hitched, earning a loud groan out of him that caused his pace to stumble.

With that, his hands were now on the sides of the ink bed, allowing him to pound you roughly as he got off to your whimpers and cries. His groans filled your ears as he let out a breathless “fuck” over and over. Your body became limp as the put in your stomach grew faster than you could prepare for, allowing you to finish so suddenly.

“Fuck, you’re so warm.” he mumbled, feeling your cum coat his cock as he overstimulated your insides.

His hand rested a top your clit, rubbing it softly even tho he banged into your cervix like no tomorrow. You cried out, practically begging him to stop as your walls pulsated repeatedly.

“I’m gonna cum in you… and.. and you’re gonna keep.. it inside, okay doll?”

His head was thrown back as he spoke, signaling the need to let go. He didn’t even bother to see your response, wanting to get off so badly in you. With a few final thrusts you felt his cum fill you, some of it dripping from the sides of your folds. His pace slowed as his high came down, making him pull out slowly. A stream of cum leaked from his cock, making him smile at the beauty before him.

“Look at you,” he started, placing small kisses against your chest. “You’re so pretty when you’re completely fucked out.”

Your face reddened at his words, making you turn tour face away from him. His hand came up to your chin, turning you back to meet his gaze as the lust that once filled his eyes, was now filled with admiration. He kissed your lips softly.

“I mean it, doll. Let’s get you cleaned up now. Wouldn’t want them knowing how you paid for your tattoo now, hm?”

—✫ taglist: @sundaybossanova @kittykat-25 @losrpark @vrtualsins @sanslovesblog

@scarfac3 @interweab @aestheticjoonie @hwasddeongbyeoli @yyaurii

@mingtinysworld @dvrktvnnel @honeyhwaaa

*comment to be added to the taglist!*

—divider creds to owner—

[lazycats-stuff]

Jason Todd x Wolverine reader!!!! It came to be is a dream~ *shitty whimsical movie voice*

Anyway we all know Wolverine is Trojan horse for trauma and is also have a soft spot for kids and also was experimented on! So basically the batfam pick up this same age as Jason reader into the family ish while he and Jason date (Damian has a fascination with his claws and thinks he’s a hybrid animal), Cass has painted his claws before but had to wash them off when they retract cause your know it goes into his body and all that have fun with this as you please!

Aw, sure, why not. However, I think I'll replace Cass with Tim, simply because I don't know anything about her character. But other than that, I'll have fun.

Summary: (Y/N) is dating Jason. No one really knew at first. But soon enough, everyone has fun.

Warnings: mentions of experiments, human ones, nothing graphic...

(Y/N) didn't have a good life. Being experimented on leaves a lot of marks and mental trauma that keeps you up at night, leaving you to distrust people. However, while hiding out in Gotham and helping the kids on the street out, he met Red Hood. (Y/N) was suspicious beyond belief, not trusting him in the slightest.

Red Hood, aka Jason Todd had the exact same attitude. Not trusting this new figure, someone who seemingly came out of nowhere into their city. Often called a city forgotten by God. That description, my dear friends, is a very accurate one. God has forgotten about Gotham.

At first, Jason thought that (Y/N) was the enemy, someone he would need to keep an eye on.

And that everyone is how Jason's feelings grew for (Y/N) and vice versa. Seeing the way that (Y/N) cared for the children that everyone forgot about, keeping them safe. Jason watched as (Y/N) would give them blankets, clean clothes, sanitary products for girls, warm meals so they didn't have to go dumpster diving for food.

Jason liked it. No, loved it.

It struck a cord with him. If it weren't for Bruce adopting him, he would still probably on the street. But he doubts that anyone would help him at the time. Rarely anyone helps the kids anymore, especially in Gotham. That's something that solidified Jason's feelings. To care for kids so much, despite all the trauma someone goes through.

Jason fell in love.

(Y/N) felt the same about Jason, since they are the same age, but he was struggling with trusting people. After being experimented on, trust in humanity, more so in people is difficult. But, kids are more often pure. Innocent. And unfortunately, they have no one in their corner to fight for them.

They are the most vulnerable ones, the ones who didn't experience the harshness of the world.

But now they had (Y/N) in their corner, someone who would fight tooth and nail for them. And the kids really likes the claws. They often say to (Y/N) that they are so cool.

(Y/N) would often smile at that. Something that made him so insecure and the thing he hated the most about him, kids loved it. That's why they would go to him for protection. Y

(Y/N) didn't have a good life. Being experimented on leaves a lot of marks and mental trauma that keeps you up at night, leaving you to distrust people. However, while hiding out in Gotham and helping the kids on the street out, he met Red Hood. (Y/N) was suspicious beyond belief, not trusting him in the slightest.

Red Hood, aka Jason Todd had the exact same attitude. Not trusting this new figure, someone who seemingly came out of nowhere into their city. Often called a city forgotten by God. That description, my dear friends, is a very accurate one. God has forgotten about Gotham.

At first, Jason thought that (Y/N) was the enemy, someone he would need to keep an eye on.

And that everyone is how Jason's feelings grew for (Y/N) and vice versa. Seeing the way that (Y/N) cared for the children that everyone forgot about, keeping them safe. Jason watched as (Y/N) would give them blankets, clean clothes, sanitary products for girls, warm meals so they didn't have to go dumpster diving for food.

Jason liked it. No, loved it.

It struck a cord with him. If it weren't for Bruce adopting him, he would still probably on the street. But he doubts that anyone would help him at the time. Rarely anyone helps the kids anymore, especially in Gotham. That's something that solidified Jason's feelings. To care for kids so much, despite all the trauma someone goes through.

Jason fell in love.

(Y/N) felt the same about Jason, since they are the same age, but he was struggling with trusting people. After being experimented on, trust in humanity, more so in people is difficult. But, kids are more often pure. Innocent. And unfortunately, they have no one in their corner to fight for them.

They are the most vulnerable ones, the ones who didn't experience the harshness of the world.

But now they had (Y/N) in their corner, someone who would fight tooth and nail for them. And the kids really likes the claws. They often say to (Y/N) that they are so cool.

(Y/N) would often smile at that. Something that made him so insecure and the thing he hated the most about him, kids loved it That's why the kids go to him for protection. (Y/N) never minded, always protecting them from anyone and anything he could.

And that's what drew this two traumatized souls together. They have agreed to date in secret, so that Bruce, aka, Batman doesn't know. Jason would have gotten and earful and would have been forced to break up with (Y/N).

And that's something he wouldn't allow.

Turns out, Jason didn't really need to worry. Just like him, Dick and Tim, (Y/N) was whisked away to the family by Bruce so Bruce could keep an eye out on him. Or so he says. Jason knew that Bruce wanted to adopt because they often joked that Bruce is a solitary creature who occasionally comes out to get an orphan into his lair.

Either way, (Y/N) has come to live with the family and Jason was happy. His boyfriend was living with them. Of course their relationship was still under wraps, since he didn't want Bruce to freak the hell out about it. Bruce wouldn't mind Jason being gay, but still. He could freak out.

But turns out that Bruce already knew that the two were together. He saw the glances, sneaky touches and kisses... Bruce wasn't stupid nor blind. He saw everything that has been going on, but has decided to keep quiet for now, since he wanted Jason to come to him to open up.

And the other 3 really like (Y/N). Damian was in love with his claws, saying how cool they looked. Dick adored them too and Tim was curious about the way they work. Bruce was curious about their mechanism too. Knowing that (Y/N) was experimented on, they knew that he probably didn't want to be experimented on.

But oddly enough, he allowed them to check how they work, since (Y/N) himself was curious. He guesses that they moved his bones, but he didn't know how it happened. So sheer curiosity got better of him and has decided to check it out.

Turns out that (Y/N)'s claws did push his bones out of the way. And it was captured on video. (Y/N) now understood what the feeling was whenever he pulled the claws out. Bruce was impressed by the fact that (Y/N)'s body could adapt to it, since it's not something that's natural.

Jason's jaw dropped at the sight of the video. Damian was thoroughly impressed by it and has decided to call (Y/N) by his first name. Dick was not that happy about it since he was still Grayson. Tim snickered at that, amused by how quickly Damian got around (Y/N). Jason was just happy that his beloved boyfriend was loved by his family and that he was accepted into the family.

Damian would often take him to the training room to see compare his blade to the claws. And yes, Damian used his claws to see how he could improve his blade.

And the reason why Damian likes him so much so quickly? He thinks that he is a hybrid. A human and an animal at the same time. And since we all know that Damian loves animals. Jason later told (Y/N) that, while the two cuddled in bed.

All in all, (Y/N) finally had a family, someone who would take care of him and would have his back. And a loving boyfriend who would fight the world for him, if he ever so asked.

[celestialprincesse]

I love poly 141 x (fem/afab)reader way too much, so what if reader finds out that she’s pregnant? Like me personally I love it when I’m reading a silly lil fic and the fmc hides her pregnancy until it’s a bit noticeable but like obvi they’d have really good trust in each other, reader would tell them after she misses her period and she’s taken a test etc etc :D

Too many thoughts on this so sorry if it doesn’t make sense LOL

-R

YES YES YES YES I especially love when her partner sort of notices something is up, but doesn't push until she's ready to tell, even though he probably found the test in the bin or something🤭🤚

The main problem with keeping secrets in your relationship? John. Captain John Price.

He's always been hyper vigilant towards your needs - towards every minute aspect of your life. He knows how stressful it can be to not only share your home with four people, but four stressed, grumpy, massive military men with a penchant for eating you out of house and home? In his eyes you're a saint for putting up with all of them.

Because of this, he tries to streamline your day to day life as much as possible. The fridge stays stocked, as does the bathroom cabinet, always supplied with nice shampoos and conditioners, your favourite body lotion, and practically the entire sanitary product aisle of your local store.

The first red flag is the fact that the window during which you usually have your period has been and gone, and none of the new boxes of tampons he restocked have been opened.

He doesn't think much of it though, rationalising that maybe it's just late, or that you'd had some leftover from last month that you'd used up. Later on though, when Kyle comes home to you bent double over the kitchen sink, hurling up your guts, concerns raise substantially. He'd only been coming in to grab the charger for his laptop when he'd heard the ruckus, and promptly called for a day off to look after you.

You soon realise what's up, and promptly shit yourself when you realise that you're carrying a baby with four potential dads. Like Mamma Mia but so much worse - and with far less wonderful Greek architecture and bright sunshine.

The boys all manage to work it out before you do, especially when you cry until Simon takes you to your local drive-thru for burger pickles and a milkshake. Just burger pickles and a milkshake. They're all surprisingly calm about the fact that you're pregnant, albeit slightly concerned that they should maybe nudge you in the right direction, seeing as you try to go about day-to-day life when you can't even smell cheese without barfing.

When you do eventually stalk into the living room with a pregnancy test in hand, and a sheepish look on your face, they try their hardest not to act surprised, even though they've already been going through paint samples for the nursery, wondering which one you'll like best - and they hope, for your sake, that it's a girl. God forbid there's any more testosterone in your house.

[ibadst]

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[watermelonlovershigh]

another sickfic/period prompt.. living together as friends/housemates and H finds her on the floor in the night feeling really sick from her period and sits with her + helps her out 🥲 changes her sheets for her, rubs her back and just holds her on the floor with a blanket round them. she's absolutely mortified with no choice but to be accepting of his help and all he wants to do is make her feel a little better :(

Period Cramps Are No Fun {part 1.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: thank you for this request. it's not exactly as the request said but i hope it's close enough. and i normally don't write harry as anything other than y/n's lover but made an exception with this story. please share your feedback with me and let me know how you liked it. enjoy. xoxoxoxo

This story contains: small period leak, severe period cramping, puking due to period cramps, crying due to pain and embarrassment, mentions of sex toys, comfort, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friend!harry - softrry - any harry era - au!harry }

word count- 1,956

You wake up in the middle of the night with severe period cramps and when your housemate and friend Harry happens to wake up for a glass of water, he sees you on the bathroom floor crying and has no choice but to be by your side and comfort you.

You were looking to be someones flatmate or housemate. You'd put offer after offer online and one day a guy named Harry accepted your offer. He had a pretty nice townhouse in London and from his brief description of himself, seemed to be an alright guy. You didn't want to move in with some lazy scumbag and you'd come to find Harry is the opposite of that.

He's probably the cleanest guy you've ever met. He enjoys keeping things organized and loves to keep the house smelling fresh with candles on every shelf and table. And you get along quite nicely. You'd even go as far to say over the six months of living in his townhouse that you've become friends.

Doing things friends do such as order take-out food together, watch movies on the couch, paint each others nails, share juicy details about your love lives (or lack thereof). Harry is a very fun guy to be around and if you're being honest with yourself, you'd say you've developed a slight crush on him. I mean how could you not? He has nearly all the characteristics of what every woman's ideal man would have. Physical characteristics and things through the actions he does.

Now even though you've became great friends over the six months of living here, there is still stuff you try to keep private. For instance, your periods. Harry's not dumb and obviously knows you get a period. Mainly from seeing your sanitary products under the bathroom sink or in the bin by the toilet. You don't try to keep your periods a secret, just private.

And though Harry knows you get periods, as do most females, he has yet to see the bad side of your periods. The periods that make you sob on the bathroom floor from the amount of pain your cramps are causing. The periods that make you nausous and throw up. Luckily those periods aren't a monthly thing but they do happen a few times a year for whatever reason and it sucks.

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

Late last night as you and Harry were watching a movie on his sofa, you began to feel crampy in your lower stomach. You asked if he could pause the film while you went to the bathroom down the hall and he agreed. And that's when you realized your period had came and you'd leaked. It's not a bad leak but it's enough for you to need to change your underwear and your shorts. Which the shorts barely had any blood on them but still called for a fresh pair.

Once you got yourself situated, you returned to the living room where the first thing Harry commented on is your changed clothes. "Did you change your shorts or somethin'?"

Quickly, you answered, "Yeah, my period started and I kinda leaked. Okay, you can press play on the movie."

Harry nodded sympathetically but followed your orders. He would have said something else to try and comfort you but knew you prefered to keep your periods more private. He doesn't understand why though. All women get periods. It's not something you should be ashamed of and he wished you'd understand that.

Now it's four in the morning and you're woken up to what feels like the worst period cramps of your whole life. Fuck, you scream in your head, it's gonna be one of those months. The longer you lay in bed the more nausous you began to feel from how painful your cramps are and that leads to you stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom down the hall.

After what felt like an eternity, you made it to the bathroom and literally crawled on the floor over to the toilet. Now that you're in the bathroom you feel less nauseous but the pain is still in full force. That's when the tears start flowing. With your back against the wall and your knees up to your chest, sobs roll out your body as you fight against the waves of your uterus contracting to release its lining.

Harry is a heavy sleeper and usually don't wake up unless someone outwardly calls his name or pushes him awake. What wakes him up right now though is a dry mouth and a craving for a glass of water. So he gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen. But before he can even make it to the kitchen, he hears what sounds like crying coming from the hall bathroom.

Rushing over to the bathroom door, the sight before him breaks his heart. You didn't have the strength to shut the door so from the hall, Harry sees you sobbing in front of the toilet, back against the wall, and a hand clutching your stomach. "Oh, Y/n," he steps inside, "what's the matter?"

You slowly lift your head and the first thought in your mind was you didn't want him to see you like this. This was too embarrassing and you were too vulnerable at the moment. "Harry, go. Don't look at me."

Taken back by your words, Harry retorts in concern, "Not until you tell me what's wrong. Are you sick? Why're cryin'?"

Realising it's no use to deny your housemates help in your condition, you answer through the pain and tears, "My.....my cramps are SO bad. It hurts so much, H...Harry. *sob* It's making me feel so sick."

Harry frowns sympathetically and kneels down beside you in just his boxer briefs, which is his usual sleep attire. He would have covered up a bit more if he'd known this is what he was going to be walking into on his trip for a glass of water. As soon as he kneels down, you get the real urge to puke.

You push yourself off the wall and hang your head over the toilet. A harsh dry heave leaves your mouth that makes him cringe but nothing more, yet. Harry quickly scoots behind you and collects your hair with one hand and runs his other hand over your back. He doesn't know if you want to be touched right now but knows that when he's getting sick he finds that if someone rubs on his back it makes him feel a little better.

"Shhh," Harry whispers gently, "it's okay. You're okay. I've got you." He patiently waits until your feel better or actually get sick. After a few more jarring dry heaves, you end up throwing up in the toilet. And though the act feels like hell and is gross, you hope it will also relive the sickness your belly feels due to your period cramps.

You slowly lift your head up, taking deep breaths, and start crying again. This time not from the pain but from embarrassment. Harry's quick to ask, "Hey, what is it, Y/n? The cramps again?"

A little more coherently then the last time you spoke, you answer, "No. Just embarrassed. I threw up in front of you." That has Harry throwing his head back with a laugh.

"Y/n, I don't give a single fuck about you throwing up in front of me. Everyone gets sick from time to time. Just want to make sure you're alright. I hate that your period cramps are causin' you so much pain."

While subconsciously rubbing circles in your lower tummy, you ask desperately in a near whispered voice, "H, can you please go get me some pain medicine. It's in my bedside table drawer in my bedroom. Once I have that I think I'll feel better. At least for a couple of hours."

"Of course." Harry agrees and gets up off the bathroom floor to head to your bedroom. Once inside, he walks straight to your bedside table and opens the drawer to find your bottle of pain medication. While rummaging through to find the bottle, Harry tries to ignore the assortment of sex toys you have in there; bullet vibrator, dildo, clit sucker. Shit, this is the wrong time for him to get all hot and flustered at the thought of you using those under his roof.

He finally finds the bottle of pills and heads back to the bathroom where you still are. Within the time it took him to grab your medicine, you've stood up off the floor, flushed the toilet of course, and now sit on a closed toilet seat. Harry opens the bottle and asks, "How many? One or Two or....?"

"Two please." Harry hands you two tablets and grabs a paper cup used for rinsing your mouths out by the sink and fills it up with tap water. You carefully grab the small cup from his hands and take the pills with urgency, just wanting to be out of pain as soon as possible.

Once that's over with, Harry annonces, "Well, I'll let you get cleaned up in here and I'll be out there waiting for you."

"Okay, thank you." you respond gratefully. Harry really is the best housemate you could have asked for. While he's gone, you change out your tampon and brush the taste of vomit from your mouth. Then you exit the hall bathroom, ready to try and get a few more hours of sleep.

As you step inside your bedroom, you're taken back. Harry has managed to change your sheets and duvet, claiming a fresh pair will help you relax and hopefully sleep better. He's also set an actual glass of water on your nightstand, as well as plugged in his heating pad for you to use. "Harry....... what's all this?"

Nervously, because he doesn't know if this is all too much to do to someone who is just his housemate and friend, Harry replies, "Um, just wanted to make sure you come back to a comfy room. Hopefully you'll get a few more hours of sleep. And if you get thirsty or need to take more medicine, there's a glass of water there. Then my old heating pad that you can use across your tummy to also help with your cramps. Hope it's not too much."

You turn around with a small smile on your face and reach out to hug him. He's startled at first but soon relaxes and hugs you back. You hug for a minute before you break away first and mutter your appreciation. "No, this is great, Harry. Not too much at all. Thank you for your kindness tonight. And thank you for putting up with me in the bathroom. I know that wasn't a pretty sight. So yeah, just, thank you so much."

Looking down at you, Harry gets the urge to kiss you, but instead, says, "Y/n, it's no big deal, really. I would have helped anyone in that situation. Just want you to feel better s'all. Now get back into bed and around ten I'll wake up and make us a brunch. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds perfect." You crawl back into your bed that now has fresh sheets and maneuver the heating pad over your tummy. The pain medicine has begun to work but your uterus is still quite achy. As Harry turns around and heads out your door, you yell out, "Night." even though it's five in the morning by now.

"Night, Y/n." Harry speaks as well before slipping back into his bed across the hall. Now laying in your separate beds, all you can think about is how much you would have loved if Harry was in your bed cuddling you. And all Harry can think about is how much he wishes you were in his bed, so he could cuddle you. Maybe one day that day will come. But for now, you're just silly housemates that's turned into friends.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

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My Masterlist Masterpost

Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)

[ellecdc]

hii i've got a halloween request if ur up for it hehe

so basically there's this tell tale story of a board game where u solve a jigsaw puzzle and once u solve it, it looks like the room you're in including you in it. it's like cursed or paranormal or smth

what about this as humour or horror (up to u) with james or reggie or whichever u find best fit

love ya thanks for all ur pretty writings 🧸

-🩷

hahaha aaaah so spooky! this is my first time trying to write something like this, so hopefully I didn't completely botch it? but because it's Halloween, I wanted to give it a try! thanks for your request <3

Regulus Black x gn!reader who work on a puzzle together [700 words]

CW: cursed puzzle, spooky ending? but idk if it's actually spooky because I've never written anything spooky before

“What did you say this puzzle was supposed to be again?” Regulus asked as he scrutinised the edge pieces he’d accumulated.

“I didn’t.” You laughed. “I found the pieces in a ziplock bag, I have no idea what it’ll turn out to be.”

“It’s not very colourful.” He mused as he started matching pieces together, causing you to snort.

“‘It’s not very colourful’ he says. Reg, babe, I love you, but have you looked around your flat recently?” 

Regulus looked up at you before letting his eyes fall to the rest of his living room. The walls were the same colour they were when he moved in (i.e., sanitary white), and every piece of furniture he had was black (because they wouldn’t show dirt, amour). You had succeeded in convincing him to buy some art for the walls, but…they followed more or less the same colour pattern.

“It’s called minimalism, amour. It’s very trendy.” He sniffed.

“Of course.” You agreed with a smile. “My trendy boy.”

You laughed again as he flicked a piece at you, picking it up from the floor where it’d bounce off your jaw.

“You’re a minx.” 

“I’m your minx.” You corrected. He simply hummed in acknowledgement as the two of you continued your project. 

“Oh, I almost didn’t see this piece on your table,” you commented as you pushed the offending piece closer to Regulus for him to inspect, “it’s practically the same colour!”

Sure enough, Regulus’ brows furrowed as he pulled the piece closer to him. “Wow, that’s actually sort of freaky.”

“How’s that for a colour match, hm?” You chuckled as you took the piece back. “Next time Sirius accidentally knicks it with his astronomical number of bracelets, you can just bring this piece in as a paint sample.”

“There’s not going to be a next time because he’s not allowed over anymore.”

“Regulus.” You chided.

“Amour.” He volleyed quickly.

“Try again.”

He let out a long suffering sigh that you knew was mostly for show (though certainly not all for show). “We have a bowl at the front door that’s-”

“-there to keep his bracelets safe whilst he visits.” You finished along with him with a beaming smile. “That’s right.” 

“Tu as de la chance tu es si mignon.” He muttered under his breath as he continued the puzzle.

The two of you continued in relative silence until Regulus eventually broke it. “What did you say this puzzle was supposed to be?”

You went to laugh at his repeated question again before you felt your brows pinch in confusion. “I…didn’t… wait, Reg-” 

You pointed to a portion of the puzzle he’d finished whilst you weren’t paying attention. “That looks like the painting on your wall, over there.” 

His eyes darted behind you where you’d just gestured to confirm that the painting matched. 

“It even looks like the same wall.” You continued apprehensively. 

The two of you paused as you looked at the rest of the puzzle and the pieces each of you had in your hands.

Slowly - as if worried something was going to jump right out of the image should you startle it - you finished the puzzle that now showcased this very room that the two of you were sitting in…including each of you. 

The image was a perfect match, from the amount of light the windows were letting into Regulus’ living room as the sun began to set, the blanket you had thrown over your lap earlier but was now bunched up at the end of his sofa, the jumper Regulus had been wearing when the two of you were at the market that he laid across the back of the couch, and the outfits each of you were wearing. 

Neither of you made a sound as you both considered the image in front of you.

“Amour?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’d you say you found this puzzle?”

You let out a nervous chuckle as you rubbed the pads of your fingers and thumbs together. “Uhm…I found it on your bookshelf.”

He was quiet as he considered your response, eyes still glued to the finished puzzle.

“Amour?”

“Yeah?”

“Go put your shoes on.” 

Well, you certainly didn’t need to be told twice.