#because what you had with them is still the only time you were ever First in anything. and even then! they chose someone-something else

[gothicfied]

(Squid game s2) Can you write a comfort fic about an insecure reader has past trauma and has endured Highschool bullying. When she joins the games and is in the group (Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Jun-hee & others) but once they meet Jun-hee she gets pushed aside and has to join another group in the second game. Feel free to change or add anything, the pairing could be Daeho x reader but it’s up to you <33

Never alone again - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x Reader

Summary: After seeing you almost die, Dae-ho swore he wouldn't leave your side ever again.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

A/N: hii! tysm for the request and I hope I did it justice.

You believed Gi-hun from the start. You believed he was right, no sane person would just say stuff like that, right? That they kill each player who gets eliminated? He seemed too damn serious for it to be a lie. And lo and behold, he was right. People. Shot dead. Right in front of you. Red-Light-Green-Light was a traumatic experience. You wanted to quit, you wanted to go home, go home and hug your parents and just be grateful to still be alive.

It was like the universe had turned against you. How wasn't everyone scared out of their minds like you? Was money really all that mattered to them? A heated discussion broke out during the first voting, angry voices yelling at each other, accusing Gi-hun of lying. You took all the courage you had left in you to try and stand up for him, at least make it known that you sided with him. Past experiences, especially your school time, usually made it hard for you to speak up, but that shouldn't really be an issue right now — You could end up dead, that's what worried you. After the voting, that didn't go your way at all, Gi-hun showed gratitude for your courage to say something and suggested you'd stick with him from now on.

Added to your group were In-ho, the last player who actually voted 'O', Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who were both former marines. While eating the lunch provided to you by the guards, those two immediately bonded over their former occupation, which you found endearing. Even though you were currently still to shy to join in on their conversations, you were content with just having a group you could stick to — Because you were sure you absolutely wouldn't survive in here alone.

"And, what's your name?" Dae-ho asked, as hd took a seat on the stairs next to you, happily eating his food. When you told him he gasped, almost chocking in the process. "That's my sisters name!" he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. You just replied with a little "Oh? No way." and then he began rambling about his life, about his four sisters, about how his father sent him to be a marine and so on. He closed his monologue saying "Anyway, that's a really pretty name." and then proceeded to ask you for your leftover food. He made you laugh, which was nice considering you all were stuck in this hellhole.

In Dae-ho's opinion, you two had a lot in common, even if you didn't at all. He suggested you slept in the bed right under his which was.. well, free now after the first game. At night, you couldn't help but overthink your interactions with not only him, but the other three guys, too. They were so nice and welcoming. All of them had a special attribute that will probably be useful in the coming few days.. and you? You had the feeling that you brought nothing to the table.

The next day, a vast majority of the players went into the second game with the impression that this will be Dalgona, like Gi-hun predicted. Apparently not. The female voice over the speakers ordered the players to form groups of five. "Ah, how perfect," In-ho smiled, "guess we'll be a group then." You looked between the men, nodding in agreement and just when you were about to say something-

"Excuse me, are you maybe searching for one more person-?"

"Oh, no I'm sorry, we're actually already five peo-"

"I'm pregnant."

The girl cut Jung-bae off, resting her hands on her pregnant belly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and no one really seemed to know what to do next. Oh, you felt bad for her. She must've been very desperate if she entered the games while being pregnant. You five were just looking at each other confused, until you took a deep breath: "It's okay, I'll find another group. She needs to be with people she can absolutely win with." You looked at the girl and she looked back, slowly giving you a grateful smile. "No it's okay I'll go-" Dae-ho tried to say, but you waved him off, shaking your head.

"Well.. No, you can't just.."

"Dae-ho," In-ho said in a low tone, putting a hand on his shoulder, "she's pregnant." he said, like Dae-ho needed a reminder of what was right in front of him. You weren't that important to the team anyways, and that girl needed your help. So, it was decided, and in the end you did find a team of three players who voted 'X', like you, and one who didn't. You felt fairly safe with these people and even if you didn't, you didn't have much of a choice.

The game was a six-legged pentathlon with five mini games you had to split between each team member to complete. Watching the first few teams go was an absolute adrenaline rush, given the small amount of time of five minutes, the first few players were shot on sight pretty early on. This made you nervous to the point where you could throw up. Your original group was sitting a few meters away from youd current one and you did lock eyes with Dae-ho quite a bit, him giving you reassuring glances or a thumbs up. You mustered up a smile, trying yo calm your thoughts down.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this-

Oh but you could. Your team, which came before Gi-hun's, barely made it over the finish line with three seconds to spare, making the crowd of waiting players roar and cheer and yell "Good job!". The most time you lost was at Gonggi, thankfully not your mini game. Being able to beat yours on the first try filled you with the confidence you needed, which was probably the only thing that kept you up on your feet. Speaking of which, the shackles, that bound your left leg together with the player next to you, were taken off of them and you were free to go. Well, back into the dorm area.

Anxiously, you sat on your bed and waited, for your team. Players streamed in, one after the other, just not the ones you were so desperate to see. You were biting your fingernails, your thoughts being flooded with the fear of them all just dying, being left alone to survive this shit.

Suddenly, you heard a voice call out for you. It was Dae-ho (who else?) who basically sprinted to you. Before you could even stand up to reciprocate his hug, he pulled you up into his arms, squeezing the air out if his lungs. "Do you know how scared I was?" he sounded really out of breath. You didn't reply, just hugged him back the best you could and watched Jung-bae laugh to himself, watching the two of you. "I'm so glad you're alive! I'll never let you do that again, okay? Next time, I'll be the one to find another group.. not you okay?" His word vomit just wouldn't stop.

"Let's hope there won't be a next time."

"Obviously there won't be, I won't ever let you leave again."

[crows4luna]

1,434 words. mature, explicit content ahead. reader is afab, no gendered pronouns used. first time body worship. nipple play. lots of groping because sylus is captivated seeing his beloved naked for the first time. | much thanks to @tbaluver @d4wnbreaker @ivohex for beta reading <3

“Don’t look.”—you huff, puffing your cheeks as you hesitate, hands clenched around your shirt bunched up around your midsection—“Not yet, at least.”

Your lover emits a playful chuckle, “Anything for you, sweetie.”

A few feet across from you was Sylus, happily relaxed as he sat on the edge of his lavish bed. Both of his hands were clasped over his eyes, as per your request. While you two were no stranger to more fleeting, intimate exchanges, your apprehension towards taking anything further was what held you both back from going full circle.

The miraculous part of it was that Sylus had no problem being patient. He didn’t bat an eye, nor did his jaw clench. He accepted it like it was something as simple as acknowledging the sky was blue.

That’s also the part that scared you the most.

It was a strange, foreign thing. Men were greedy, voracious animals, and with your career, you’ve dealt with plenty of them who were… interesting caricatures. Some worse than others, of course. And even though you covered yourself shoulder to toe on a day-to-day basis, you still hated being ogled at. Hated the gnawing anxiety that you were being mentally undressed and you didn’t even know it.

But Sylus helped you combat a lot of things. There was no pressure from his end to be as prudish as he was, flaunting his figure comfortably. It was his nature (his own words). He was used to it, and when it comes to you, he has no problem being his most comfortable self.

Finally, your shirt hits the ground. You bristle at the cold air pinching your bare back, shivering. You don’t want to delay this anymore than you have to.

Quickly, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your waffle-knit shorts, tugging it down. The only thing clinging to your body now was a simple pair of cotton panties. A pair that descends from a cheap pack you bought some months ago. It was a slightly darker shade of maroon, a little brighter than the muted shades accented all over Sylus’ main base.

Dwindling anxiety courses through your veins, almost like a replacement of your blood. You lift your arms to cover your breasts, gritting your teeth before letting out a deep breath to ease yourself.

“...Okay,” you finally say. “You can look now.”

Sylus lowers his hands.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes widen slightly in fascination, taking in the sight of your back. He observes the slight curve of it, then the way your hips naturally fill out, and the downward expanse of your thighs to your legs. A light smirk curls at the corner of his mouth, leaning forward a little to rest his forearms on his thighs.

“A breathtaking sight before my own eyes,” he muses. “You’re stunning, baby.”

You let out a stifled noise, unintelligible of any comprehensible emotion. You were getting flustered. More than you ever have before.

“You’re—only staring at my backside.”

“And I’m not complaining if this is all you’ll show me.”

His tone shifts from his teasing drawl to something smoother, comforting, “If this is as far as you want to go, then it’s alright with me. Don’t feel pressured to keep going just to please me.”

You stiffen a little, sighing, “I want to. Believe me, I… want this. I want to please you. It’s only fair.”

The shakiness in your voice begs to differ. Sylus raises a brow, lifting a hand to tap his bottom lip contemplatively. He knows you well—and one of your standout traits is that you’re stubborn as all hell.

He fixates on the shaky foundation for which you plead with him. Despite it all, he knows you’re being sincere. He just doesn’t want to scare you.

Sylus sighs, relenting, “Alright then. But I want to remind you that it’s your call. Always.”

“...Thank you.”

With an easing state of mind, you finally turn. It’s deliberately slow, but you feel comfortable as your eyes meet your partner’s. His gaze is ever captivating. The very same one used to intimidate and bend others at will—but it’s those eyes that welcome the sight of you like home. You can make out the subtle tenderness that extends to his adoration for you.

You allow him to take in the sight of you, now face-to-face. It’s not long before a blush slowly warms your complexion, standing out in the dim aura of the room. The moment Sylus smiles, you feel yourself tensing again.

He chuckles, his voice returning to a low drawl, “Are you getting shy?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The former stands, moving over to you in one stride considering the short distance and his stature. Resting his hands on his hips, he carefully circles your figure, observing you again—slower. Once he settles into a spot standing right behind you, you feel the curve of his palm sliding along your shoulder, up around your throat.

Sylus leans forward, lips barely grazing your ear, “Do you want this?”

A nod.

“...Yes,” you moan out softly, the sound a mere whisper. You gasp as his strong torso presses to your back, continuing your permission, “Yes—I—fuck… I want you, Sylus. I need you.”

This time, he lifts his arms to embrace you from behind. Tufts of white hair tickle your skin as he lowers his head to mouth the side of your neck. His lips latch on, beginning to leave feather-light kisses, descending a trail. It’s enough to invigorate you, making you more pliant in his arms.

His hands find yours, still covering your breasts. He massages the back of them, gentle in his grasp.

“Do you—”

You can’t take this anymore. You’re desperate, near the verge of tears as you whimper, “Yes—yes, yes. Gods, Sylus. Fuck. Please, you don’t—have to ask anymore.”

His deep laugh reverberates against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, sending chills down your spine.

“I’d be cruel to not ask,” he punctuates with a kiss. “It’s only fair.

“And… I want to be fair to you, always. Which means asking for your permission, before I may do as I please. Before I fully relish in you the way I dream of.”

A kiss to the area beneath your ear, then a soft tug of your lobe between his teeth. He soothes it with another kiss, whispering, “I intend to relish in you in the best way, as you deserve. As long as you’ll have me.”

You’re at more peace than you can ever imagine. No longer does the cold of his bedroom perplex you, as his words are carried by what feels like an undertone of a trance.

You let down your arms—and instantly, Sylus’ hands occupy the space they once did. His palms, calloused yet smooth with neverending warmth, cup your breasts. Your back arches, and as his fingers pinch and flick your nipples, it elicits boundless moans from you.

To him, it’s probably the most beautiful sound he’s heard, and Sylus groans in anticipation of the symphony he could create.

You whine as he suddenly shifts his grip, lifting you into his arms with ease to drop you onto the bed. He resumes the position you were both once in, turning you to lay on your side as his torso presses to your backside again. You intake a sharp breath, goosebumps dancing along your flesh as it prepares to embrace your lover’s warmth again.

His palms once more resume their squeeze on your breasts, as his lips work to leave a mark on the back of your neck. He takes his time, ensuring the sensuality and its intimate burn is the same as his lips trail down your skin. All you can do in turn is writhe and grind back into him, delivering a delicious mantra of sounds that only tightens the growing bulge behind his trousers.

“Sylus…”

“Mmh… just stay still for me.”

You roll over to lay flat on your stomach, grabbing one of the strewn pillows and hugging it tight. Sylus beams at this, slipping a noise that tethers between a groan and a growl. His palms leave your breasts, keeping a firm pressure as they slither down your stomach, anchoring into the shape of your hips. He kneads the flesh, bolder in his movements as he tongues the dip of your spine, occasionally moving back up, sideways, then downward again.

It’s an honor, he thinks. To be able to devour you like this.

The only one who will sink his teeth into your skin.

[randum-famdoms]

Something I have seen people complain about is when the story “stops” for a character to mentally think about their feelings regarding something.

I think that’s bullshit.

Like, okay. Think about it. How fast is your train of thought? Faster than your reading speed, right? Do your thoughts all happen in neat little sentences, or as more of a nebulous and/or choppy half-formed thing that *you* understand, but would sound like nonsense on a page?

Also, the character probably isn’t actually taking as long to think these things as you are reading it. “Character A feels xyz about this” isn’t taking ten seconds to actually happen, feelings coexist with action!

Now, there is a time and place for introspection. It is my personal philosophy to have the amount of introspection reflect the pacing of a scene. Fast battle scenes will be far more action-heavy and introspection-light compared to, say, a calm breakfast.

I think it balances the annoyance over pages of introspection completely breaking the flow of an intense section of the story (at least, from the perspective of the reader), while still maintaining some of that wonderful interiority (which is actually a new word for me, and I adore it).

I’m the first to admit that I am far from an experienced or professional author. I don’t have a professional editor, and my only education is via Highschool and middle school classes (and while I was always in the advanced classes, a few even college level, they were still restricted by being part of the American education system). I definitely can think of times where my grasp on the interiority slipped. Especially when it comes to describing things that wouldn’t necessarily be noticed by the pov character, simply because I as the author do know about it and think it’s funny or important.

I’d imagine a good rule of thumb regarding this would be to treat it like dialogue. People always say to read your dialogue out loud to notice any problems. Well, just act out the scene as though you are the pov character. Not necessarily irl, but in your head. (And maybe even irl if you can manage it, it can’t hurt!) What way are you facing? Would you be able to see that annoying dog? Would you focus on the person you are talking to’s face, or their hands? Is this activity one that you would space out during, or does it require laser focus?

Basically, all the things you would not think about if you imagine the scene like a movie as you are writing.

Picturing the scene as a movie can be helpful, particularly for things like imagery. But it does have its shortcomings, as op said.

It can work thematically for some stories, but when it comes to most writing that is not third person omniscient, it’s definitely something that can cause the reader to feel… distant, I guess. Less immersed.

It’s also something that, sadly, many writers will have to teach themselves and seek out to learn, because, as OP said, it’s becoming harder to find in modern works. This is doubly so do people who mainly read non-published works. I will sing the praises of fanfiction until the day that I die, and maybe even after, but the fact of the matter is that 99% of fanfiction authors are self taught. They may not know how to incorporate interiority. They may not even have ever read a work that had it.

I know a lot of people say that you should read the “classics”, and you may be thinking that could help here, but I for one am a fierce defender of not putting up requirements to be considered a writer, and that includes required reading. Yes it can help you learn skills, but so can more modern works. I learned a lot from reading Percy Jackson, and other lesser known books, and none of them are considered classics on par with The Great Gatsby or Shakespeare.

Instead, I propose this: if you want to get a better grasp on writing with interiority, try actually consciously focusing on your day to day life for a little while every day. Focus on your train of thought, on the things you focus on, on the things you see.

If you want to read something, great! Ask for recommendations, go to your local library and flip through books until you find one you think you will both enjoy and which has a good grasp of the concept.

First and foremost, however, in any writing, is to remember how we as humans actually live and interact with the world, and you’ve got a primary source of research at all times: yourself. Exclusively using other texts as sources will only ever end in a very broken game of telephone.

A lot of fiction these days reads as if—as I saw Peter Raleigh put it the other day, and as I’ve discussed it before—the author is trying to describe a video playing in their mind. Often there is little or no interiority. Scenes play out in “real time” without summary. First-person POV stories describe things the character can’t see, but a distant camera could. There’s an overemphasis on characters’ outfits and facial expressions, including my personal pet peeve: the “reaction shot round-up” in which we get a description of every character’s reaction to something as if a camera was cutting between sitcom actors.

When I talk with other creative writing professors, we all seem to agree that interiority is disappearing. Even in first-person POV stories, younger writers often skip describing their character’s hopes, dreams, fears, thoughts, memories, or reactions. This trend is hardly limited to young writers though. I was speaking to an editor yesterday who agreed interiority has largely vanished from commercial fiction, and I think you increasingly notice its absence even in works shelved as “literary fiction.” When interiority does appear on the page, it is often brief and redundant with the dialogue and action. All of this is a great shame. Interiority is perhaps the prime example of an advantage prose as a medium holds over other artforms.

fascinated by this article, "Turning Off the TV in Your Mind," about the influences of visual narratives on writing prose narratives. i def notice the two things i excerpted above in fanfic, which i guess makes even more sense as most of the fic i read is for tv and film. i will also be thinking about its discussion of time in prose - i think that's something i often struggle with and i will try to be more conscious of the differences between screen and page next time i'm writing.

[jinhyun]

—lost in translation.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: a little angst, fluff, best friend’s little brother au, friends to lovers, pininggggg, miscommunication (gone right?)

word count: 5.2k

summary: hyunjin needed answers and he needed them now. even if it meant showing up at your place late at night with a few drinks in his system, ready for things to go either terribly wrong or incredibly right.

warnings: miscommunication, mentions of alcohol and drinking

author’s note: hellooo, and thank you so much for being so patient<3 this is part 23 of my social media au “heart out”. part 24 will be written as well, so don’t worry if there were a few things left unsaid in this one lol. as always, i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please don’t forget to leave an ask or a comment telling me your thoughts on it<3

Hyunjin was usually a very chill and spontaneous person. He did things when he felt like it, without really giving it much thought. If he wanted to do something and it felt right, then why would he hold back? He could always deal with the consequences of his own actions later.

When it came to you, however, he was the complete opposite.

Ever since he met you, he had been tiptoeing his way around your heart.

He wanted to do things right when it came to you, and, as a result, his interactions with you throughout the years tended to end up with him overthinking instead of doing.

Starting with him hiding his feelings and keeping his interactions with you to the minimum when he was still a high schooler, to him still hiding his feelings while trying to get closer to you when he entered university, to then still say nothing about them when you started dating Mingyu, up until now, that he finally got another shot at getting close to you, yet he still refused to confess his feelings until you were ready to hear it.

And that was the thing, if it were up to him and acting accordingly to how he felt in the moment, he would’ve confessed a long time ago — probably back in his first year of university, particularly when he found out you and Mingyu were dating and he felt like calling you up and letting it all out. But he wouldn’t, because although it would be a huge weight to get off his shoulders, he wouldn’t want you to deal with the burden of knowing he loved you when you didn’t love him back; not like that, at least.

He wouldn’t confess, because he didn’t want you to feel bad for not being there just yet, if ever.

He didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had because of a whim, and so he decided to deal with his feelings on his own. Until he knew for sure that you were ready to hear a confession from him, he wouldn’t say the words out loud to you.

Of course, that was up until this evening.

After coming to the conclusion that Dahye had followed her word and told you about his feelings for you, and having you distance yourself from him ever since, which could only mean you didn’t feel the same and were preparing to turn him down; and, furthermore, after hearing from Yeji that you wouldn’t mind going out with her twenty three year old coworker once you were ready to date again, there was no room in his head for him to think of the consequences of confessing to you anymore.

If you were turning him down anyway, if you were going out with someone else anyway… if he was losing you anyway, then what did he have to lose by finally letting you know how deeply he felt for you?

Maybe it was the alcohol he’d been consuming with his friends that night, or maybe it was just him simply not giving a fuck anymore — maybe both.

Whatever it was, it was giving him the final push he needed, for he was now standing outside your building, ignoring the freezing breeze of the night —as the black cotton sportswear he was wearing did little to nothing to keep him warm—, while he desperately texted you in hopes of you being awake and letting him come up, so you would finally get to talk and turn him down if that’s what you wanted to do in the end.

If you were turning him down at one point in the next two days, he would rather have you do it now.

He felt like he was going insane; like no matter what the outcome was, whether you turned him down or not, he would collapse if he didn’t get an answer within the next few minutes.

When you wouldn’t answer his texts and there were no signs of you being online, he decided to call you instead. He wasn’t giving up that easily that night, if at all.

It only took one missed call and ten more seconds waiting on the line for you to pick up.

“Hyunie?” Your sleepy yet worried voice was enough to quiet his running thoughts down. “Something happened? Are you alright?”

He stayed silent for a moment, staring up at your window.

“Hyunie?” You repeated. He heard you shift in your bed, and then he saw the light in your room turn on. “Are you there?”

“Can I come up?” He asked quietly.

Silence filled the line for a moment. “What?”

“I texted you… I think you didn’t see it” he explained. “I’m outside your building. Can I please come up? I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you now”.

“Y-Yeah… of course” you failed to hide how taken aback you were. “Help yourself in”.

“Okay…”

Hanging up, his eyes went to the front door to your building, and he suddenly felt the weight of what was about to come on his shoulders. But he was already here, and even if he turned around and went home instead, he knew he would not be able to sleep for the second night in a row as long as he didn’t clear things up with you.

He was already here and you were waiting for him upstairs, so he might as well rushed up to you.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Entering the passcode he knew by heart, he made his way into your place; taking off his shoes and putting on the slippers you kept by the door for your guests, which he knew were pretty much his by now.

As expected, all the lights were out except from the one in your bedroom, where he caught you coming out from.

He would never get tired of seeing you barefaced; and the slightly messy hair you were running your fingers through in a quick attempt to fix, along with the pastel pink silk pyjamas you were wearing, could only make him adore you even more. However, you looked tired, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for waking you up.

“Hey” he mumbled, suddenly feeling the madness inside his head calm down at the mere sight of you.

“Hey…” you softly greeted him back, leaning against your doorframe and resting your head on it. “Did something happen?”

He denied with his head, coming closer to you. “Just couldn’t wait anymore to talk to you, I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, slightly frowning when you got a closer look at him. “Have you been drinking?”

A small, surprised pout formed on his lips. What gave it away? His eyes? Was he reeking of alcohol? Or did you know him so well that a simple look at him was enough for you to tell when something was off?

“Just had a few drinks with the boys, it’s nothing” he brushed it off.

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“No, of course not” he was the one to frown this time. “I’m fine, though”.

You said nothing, but he caught the hesitation in your eyes.

“I’m fine, Y/N” he reassured you one last time. “I didn’t drink that much anyway”.

Just enough for his inhibitions to shut down; not enough not to realise what he was doing.

“Okay…” you decided to believe him.

With a light tilt of your head, you invited him into your room, where the lightning was better — although the dim light coming from the white lamp on your nightstand could only make him feel sleepier.

You sat down on the edge of your unmade bed, as you’d been sleeping up until he called you, and motioned for him to do the same. Once he did, silence was fast to take over.

“Um… I’m not—I wasn’t really prepared to talk about this now,” you messily tried to come up with the right way to approach the issue. “So I don’t know where to begin, if I’m honest…”

He understood what you were feeling perfectly. In all honesty, although he had come all the way over here to get the answer he so badly needed, he, too, didn’t know where to begin.

There was so much to say, so much to ask, so many ways to word his questions, that his mind went blank.

So, he said the first thing he could think of right then.

“Dahye told you, didn’t she?”

You looked distressed at the mention of her, and that was enough for him to get the answer he was dreading. “Sorry?”

“She talked to you?” He rephrased it.

“Mhm…” you nodded, looking down to your lap. “She did”.

“And is that why you’ve been so distant?” Hyunjin asked carefully.

You nodded again, silently. “I’m sorry, I just needed some time to think” your eyes went back up to lock with his. “How’d you know she talked to me?”

“She kinda threatened me with telling you, so…” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh… that’s…”

Crazy. She was crazy.

Hyunjin nodded, not needing to hear any words coming out of your mouth to understand what you wanted to say. “I know. I should learn not to underestimate her”.

“Yeah, I probably should, too…” you smiled weakly. “Good thing I realised something was off and didn’t believe her in the end”.

“Wait, what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

Something was off? You didn’t believe her?

“I didn’t believe her,” you repeated. “I was a bit shaken up at first, and that’s why I took some distance from you. I just needed to think about it with a cold head, but all along I didn’t want to believe it was true, so ultimately I didn’t. It didn’t sound like you at all”.

Was he tripping? Was he really way more drunk than he thought for your words to make no sense to him?

“You didn’t… want to?” Hyunjin’s heart ached, mostly hung up on those words of yours. “Would it be that bad if it was true?”

“Yes,” you replied in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if that was the case, Hyunjin”.

I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if Dahye will always be there and I knew you’d go back to her whenever you get tired of me; is what you meant.

It would be bad if it was true that you’re in love with me, because I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you and ever love you back; is what he heard.

Just like that, for the fourth time in his life, once again because of you, his heart broke.

Although he’d come here knowing well enough that getting turned down by you was a very high possibility, actually hearing you so tactlessly say those words to him right then, and getting every chance of ever being with you crushed into pieces just like that, had his heart hurting in a way it had never before.

Feeling physically ill and finding it hard to breathe, he stood up, pacing around your room for a few seconds before he looked for support on the wall by leaning his back on it.

This might’ve been his worst heartbreak yet, for unlike the previous times, he’d let himself be led on. This time, he really thought that there was something going on between the two of you. All the reciprocated flirting and touches… had it all been him? Did you really not realise what you’d been doing to him all along?

“Hyunie…” you whispered, feeling your own heart break at the sight of him and going up to him, unable to give into your own sorrow as he seemed to have just confirmed that what Dahye told you was indeed true.

He closed his eyes as he tilted his head up to keep the tears from coming out of them.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He defeatedly shook his head when you placed your hand on his shoulder, rubbing his hands on his eyes to wipe the oncoming tears before he tried to walk away. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t a good—I can’t, I should leave” he apologised.

“So it’s true then?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for him to stay.

He shook his head no, and for just a moment there you felt relief, before he finally turned around and looked at you with reddened eyes. “Of course it’s true” his bottom lip trembled. “Why wouldn’t it be? Did I really get it all wrong?”

Your eyebrows knitted together, understanding this entire situation less and less by the second. “Get what wrong?”

“This,” he repeatedly pointed his finger from you to him. “Us. Whatever it is that I thought was going on between us”.

“Hyunjin…”

“I knew I was getting my hopes up too fast, but I thought,” he paused for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief over his own delusions. “All this time I thought what kept holding you back was our age gap, but turns out the problem was never my age, but me”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’d be willing to go out with that one other guy who’s also my age, so it was clearly never the problem”.

“What guy?”

“You know what guy”.

“Felix?” You pinpointed, not really knowing any other guys his age. Not like you particularly knew Felix either anyway. “I’m not going out with him”.

“You said you wouldn’t mind him being twenty three, though”.

“Because I don’t care about age, not because I want to date him” you tried to defend yourself. “Weren’t you the one who told me to consider dating younger guys?”

“Exactly, I told you that. Me. I said it so you would at some point consider me, not so you would start looking at other guys my age” he clarified.

“Hyunjin, I’m not—Why does age suddenly matter so much to you?”

“Because if you’re willing to date a guy who’s three years younger than you, then why can’t it be me?!”

You froze.

During all the years you had known him, you had never seen him lose his temper. He was always calm, rational. Had he ever even raised his voice in your presence other than when he got excited about something?

This was a side of him you’d never seen before, and it broke you.

Seeing him look so hopeless and sound so defeated right then, made you feel like holding him and never let go of him.

Things were moving too fast, though, and when you wanted to reach for his face and wipe the tear that had just rolled down one of his cheeks, he beat you to it; harshly wiping his face with his hands, as he refused to look away from you.

“All this time I’ve done nothing but pour my heart out to you. I’m so… so fucking in love with you it hurts me, Y/N. There are times when it physically pains me to love you this much,” he confessed.

Right now, it was one of those times.

“I’ve done everything in my hands for you to stop seeing me like the teenage boy you met back then, for you to stop seeing me just like Yeji’s little brother, and I know you’re not ready for a relationship yet, but I was willing to wait for as long as you needed me to until you were, because I was delusional enough to believe that I could actually make you fall for me” a breathless, humorless laugh abandoned his lips. “And now it turns out you just won’t ever feel the way I feel for you, and this guy shows up out of nowhere and gets everything I’ve tried to get from you right away without even moving a finger, and I just… I don’t know where to go from here”.

Your heart squeezed inside your chest.

Of all the things you were expecting as the outcome of your talk, a confession wasn’t one of them. Not this kind of confession, at least.

You were speechless. Not only did you not know what to say, but even if you did, you were sure your voice would betray you by not coming out when you opened your mouth.

Hyunjin loved you.

It wasn’t just a crush like you thought. It wasn’t him looking for something casual like you feared. No, he loved you. He was serious about you.

Why did you feel so happy yet so afraid about his feelings for you being so strong?

He took a step towards you, and you felt your heartbeat raise when his face was only a couple of inches away from yours and his breathing began to mix with yours.

“I don’t wanna give up on you, Y/N, I don’t. But I just don’t kn—What do I have to do for you to consider me?” He asked, pulling you closer by your waist. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“I’m not going out with him, Hyunjin” you repeated in a whisper, hoping this time he would believe you.

Whether he believed you or not, he leaned in closer, faintly brushing his nose with yours. “What do I have to do for you to give me a chance then?”

“Hyun…”

“I’ll do anything,” he said, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “Just tell me what and I’ll do it”.

You slowly shook your head no, unable to get any kind of word out of your mouth. Was it not obvious enough already that you did feel something for him? Had the way you talked to him and how you acted around him not been enough for him to get that you liked him as something more than just a friend? As way more than just your best friend’s brother?

You couldn’t find the right words to tell him that. The only thing you could do was to stare into his eyes, and then down into his lips, feeling the tension between the two of you grow by the second.

Hyunjin caught up on that immediately, leaning closer, so he could brush his mouth on yours for a second, before he closed the gap that kept them from touching.

Only you beat him to it.

Had you waited one more second, he would’ve been the one to press his lips on yours.

But you did not.

Instead, you were the one to press your mouth on his.

You were the one to kiss him first.

You were kissing him.

And he froze.

His right hand was still cupping your face, his left one remained on your waist, and his eyes had naturally closed the moment he felt the heavenly pressure of your lips on his. But he froze nevertheless.

For the first few seconds, he was too stunned, too overwhelmed —in the best way possible— to even react. And, unfortunately, a few seconds was all the kiss lasted; for he missed your touch right when he was about to kiss you back.

“I’m sorry” you apologised right as you pulled away and covered your mouth with your hands, as if only then coming to your senses. “Hyunie, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—”

That was as much as you got to say, for in a second he had already removed your hands from your mouth and replaced them with his lips.

You’d be damned if you thought you could get away with letting him get a taste of your lips only to deprive him of you all over again.

You kissed him back right away, going against your poorly attempted apology, and driving him crazy when you wrapped your arms over his shoulders. His hands that had been previously cupping your face were now on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he tried to feel you as close to him as he could.

He kissed you like he needed you, like he’d been deprived of you for decades and was only now allowed to get a taste of you; and yet, he managed to be so gentle that you were left craving more by the second, whilst wanting him to kiss you just like that for a little longer.

After all, you didn’t know he had been dreaming of this moment for nearly seven years now.

Just like you, he, too, started wanting more. Pulling your hips harder against his and getting a small gasp of yours to part your lips, he took the chance to delve his tongue in your mouth — unable to keep the corners of his lips from curving slightly up when he felt your tongue massage his right back.

With your breathings becoming heavier, and without even dreaming of letting go of your lips just yet, Hyunjin made you take a couple of steps back, until your legs reached your bed and you instinctively sat down on it, allowing him to lean over you as he followed your mouth.

“You’re drunk…” you managed to whisper, right after you laid back on the mattress and his mouth sucked on your bottom lip once more.

“I’m fine, I’m fin—I’m perfect” he whispered in between kisses.

He was perfect. Being with you like this, with him hovering over you while your fingers gently dug into his hair and your mouths so deliciously sucked on each other, he could not be anything other than perfect.

Kissing you felt like a dream, and a part of him was afraid that it was one.

“No, Hyunjin…” you mumbled, only a couple of seconds later. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” He asked, pulling slightly away from you — not enough for your lips to stop brushing.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now” you confessed what his sister had told him earlier that night and, therefore, what he already knew. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have kissed you”.

“No, don’t be sorry for kissing me. Anything but that, Y/N. You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to kiss you all this time” he tenderly ran his thumb up and down on your cheekbone. “I can wait until you’re ready. Starting tomorrow morning I’ll wait all you need me to, but right now just… let me kiss you for a little longer”.

Having him whisper those words when his mouth was faintly touching yours, could only make you feel yourself give in to his plea.

“Hm?” He asked, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “One more and I’ll stop”.

Unable to speak, as it seemed to be the norm that night, you closed your eyes; and that was enough for him to take the hint and replace the thumb on your bottom lip with his mouth, sweetly sucking on it before he softly traced it with his tongue, for you to let him in and meet him midway.

The desperation of your second kiss was no longer there, as he now took his time to engrave in his memory every single second of your mouth sucking on his and your tongue massaging his own. He didn’t know when he would ever get to kiss you again, after all, and he wanted to take in as much as he could of it.

He wanted to take his time now; and kiss you slowly, deeply, lovingly.

When you were both left panting for air, he rested his forehead on yours, cupping your nape with his hand and digging his fingers in your hair before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, as a breathy laugh abandoned his mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy” he confessed.

“I should be the one saying that,” you chuckled rather sadly. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me anymore, Hyunjin…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re confusing me so much right now. You say you love me and you make me feel so special, but then you go and…” you sighed, feeling him slowly withdraw his face from your neck as he tried to understand your point. “I wish it was that easy, but I can’t let myself fall for you now that I know what Dahye said is true”.

“I swear you’re making me question how much I actually drank, because that doesn’t make any sense and—You can’t do this to me, Y/N” his piercing eyes fixed on yours, and the way his voice sounded so calm now could only make your body tense up under him. “You can’t just kiss me and then tell me that…” he sighed, attempting to collect his thoughts. “If you don’t feel ready for a relationship I get it, and I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to, baby, that’s never been a problem. But you can’t just tell me that you’ll never love me back and then kiss me only to turn m—”

“When did I ever say I’d never love you back?” You questioned.

“When we were talking earlier?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I asked you if it would be so bad if what Dahye told you was true and you said yes”.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Because I can’t put myself through the hell your messy relationship with her would bring me”.

His eyebrows knitted together. “What messy relationship?”

“You know…” you avoided his eyes, only then being hit with how much the thought of him with someone else actually affected you. “This whole ‘fuck buddies’ thing and you going back to her no matter who you are with”.

“That’s ridiculous” he blurted out, almost offended that such an atrocity had just left your mouth. “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s what Dahye told me” you said.

“That’s what…” the puzzle pieces finally connected in his head. “Is that why you said you wouldn’t be able to fall for me?”

“Yes?” You tilted your head questioningly. “Isn’t that what we were talking about all along?”

He should be mad at Dahye right then. He should want to scream at her for playing with the two of you like this.

Any other time, he would’ve been fuming. Right then, however, with your troubled expression as you didn’t get what was going on, with your pretty lips all swollen from how hard he’d been kissing you up until a minute ago, and having experienced such a wide range of emotions in a matter of minutes, he could only laugh.

Tilting his head back and letting a throaty laugh escape his mouth, he slumped back next to you on your mattress and covered his face with both hands, as he let his laughter take over him.

Nervousness, madness, embarrassment, relief, happiness; it was all mixed up into one loud, painful laughing fit.

He felt like a maniac, feeling you stare at him in worry and obliviousness, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You wondered when he struggled to catch his breath.

“She lied” he explained, finally feeling like his laughter was coming to an end.

“She lied?”

“She lied” he confirmed, removing his hands from his face and wiping a couple of tears off his eyes before he locked them with you. “I don’t like her at all, Y/N. We hardly ever even talk, why would I—” he took in a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he felt like he was going crazy. “Can’t believe I cried for nothing”.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth, both over his last remark and over how relieved you felt to know it was all been a misunderstanding, and that you had been right not to believe her in the first place.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough” you pouted, gently cupping his face when he turned to you.

He shook his head no, letting you know it was okay as he placed his hand on yours. “I didn’t specify either, so I was at fault, too” he smiled softly. “And we probably wouldn’t have ended up kissing if I hadn’t gotten so heated up anyway, so it was totally worth it”.

“You’re an idiot” you laughed once again, smiling when he leaned in and rested his forehead on yours.

“You still kissed me, though” he pointed out, bringing some heat to your cheeks. “Does that mean I actually have a chance now?”

“Was me kissing you not a good enough answer to that?”

“Kisses can mean nothing to some people, so…”

“I’m not one of those people, Hyunie” you let him know.

“Good,” he smiled, pulling you to his chest. “Because kissing you meant everything to me”.

You wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling the fabric of the black sweatshirt he was wearing and taking in his scent you loved so much.

“Shouldn’t we properly talk about what Dahye told us?” You mumbled.

“That, and about where we’re standing now, too” he agreed, sweetly tracing his fingertips up and down your back. “My head hurts now, though. I feel like I’m spiraling, I went through too many emotions in too little time”.

You giggled, looking up at him. “You want to continue this conversation tomorrow? When we’re both a little less overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” he nodded. “I can sleep peacefully now that I know you feel something for me, too”.

You chuckled, making his bottom lip stick out in confusion when you pulled away from him and sat up on your bed. “It’s late, you can sleep here tonight. I’ll take the couch”.

He grabbed your wrist before you could get up. “Stay with me?”

“Hyun…” you hesitated.

“I won’t try anything, I promise” he was fast to say, well aware of where your hesitation was coming from. “Just need to feel you close tonight”.

If he was honest, any other time, he would’ve offered to take the couch and that would’ve been the end of it, but tonight he really needed your closeness. He needed to know you were there, to feel you next to him. And, thankfully for him, you needed just the same.

Silently motioning for him to get under the covers, you let him know you agreed to his request. He smiled widely, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before he did as told — making you laugh wholeheartedly when you got under the sheets as well and he wasted no time to pull you to his chest again and to tuck you in with him.

This entire day had been a mess. Hell, the whole fucking week had been unbearable. But you had been able to talk it out at last. Although messily, you now seemed to be on the same page about everything; from your feelings, to what you were looking for, to where the whole misunderstanding had originated.

This may not have been the conversation the two of you were expecting to have, but it was coming soon enough. Tonight, you could just go to sleep in each other’s arms, knowing what each other’s lips felt and tasted like, and with the certainty that your feelings were reciprocated.

Neither of you would have it any other way.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin

[jjscrybaby]

first dates <3

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (friends to lovers, just pure adorableness tbh, sexual jokes, kissing, smoking weed.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“So, what does a date with JJ Maybank look like?” Your arm was linked through his, the two of you walking down the beach; the gentle breeze had goosebumps spreading over your bare skin. Sue you for wanting to look nice.

About 97% of the days you’d spent with JJ were in a bikini, pyjamas or just some old denim shorts and a crop top. You never tried to look nice for him, because you didn’t have to. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he was your friend. Ever since Sarah had started dating John B your circles had merged and the two of you had become particularly attached at the hip. Maybe you should have realised sooner you had feelings for him, but the line between friendship and romance is difficult to differentiate sometimes.

Surprisingly, you weren’t confused when he asked you out. It felt normal, felt right. You’d given him a sweet smile, kissed his cheek and told him to pick you up at seven.

“I can’t say I’ve been on many,” he admitted, shrugging his jacket off to put on you. “But, usually, I start with food.”

“You always do,” you tease, putting your arms through the hoodie with a grin. He linked his fingers through yours, throwing you a wink as he changed directions. You didn’t realise where you were headed until you were stood outside. “You want to have our first date at the Wreck? We eat here all the time.”

“You love the cheeseburgers,” he shrugged, holding the door open for you. The bell jingled above you, you looked back at him with a giddy smile.

Kiara, luckily, wasn’t working tonight so you didn’t have her eyeing the two of you like an overbearing mother. A waiter came over to your table and he ordered, knowing just what you wanted without you having to say a word. He’d decided to sit beside you instead of opposite, in a little booth in the back, you were pretty sure it was just so he could rest his hand on your thigh.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he complimented. You’d decided on a sundress, knowing he had a thing for them.

“You’ve told me several times,” you teased, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You look beautiful, too.”

“Aww, thanks,” he laughed, making you giggle.

First dates were usually awkward, you’d always need at least two glasses of wine to loosen up. You hadn’t even had a sip for this. You adored JJ, he already knew everything about you so there were no awkward conversations needed to be had. He’d held your hair back whilst you threw up in a bush after one too many tequila shots, so you couldn’t possibly embarrass yourself. You felt completely relaxed, it was the best you’d felt in a long time.

Your food and drinks arrived, his hand didn’t stray from your thigh the entire meal. He flirted with you nonstop, but you very quickly realised he’d been doing that since you met. The teasing comments, the unsubtle looks, it was nothing new; and yet you still blushed every time.

“What’s next?” You asked as the two of you left the restaurant, his wallet the only one feeling a little emptier.

“The nice meal wasn’t good enough for ya?” He joked, arm around your shoulders.

“It was exquisite, but I think you can do better,” you shrugged, reaching up to hold the hand he’d wrapped around you.

“We’ll see.”

The arcade was your favourite place on the island, not for the games, no, they were fun but they weren’t the reason you loved it so much. You went there purely to people watch. A variety of people came into the arcade, and you loved to make up fun stories about them. And, of course, JJ knew that.

“What ‘bout them?” The two of you were sat, sipping slushies and looking around the room. You’d played a few games, he let you win every time, and now it was time for the real fun.

“She’s pregnant but hasn’t told him yet, because it’s not his baby,” you replied. He gasped dramatically, making you snort into your cup.

“Who’s the daddy?” JJ asked, subtly pulling you closer to him so your back was leaning against his chest.

Your cheeks went pink, but you chose to ignore it and take another sip of your drink; even as he let out a chuckle. “That guy.” You pointed to an elderly man who was standing in the corner.

“Damn, he’s still got it,” JJ murmured. You giggled, turning to face him with an amused smile. Your faces were inches apart as he grinned back at you.

For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you; he cupped your cheek and gently stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, but just as you were about to lean in he brought his hand back, licked his thumb and then rubbed it over your top lip.

“Slushie juice,” he explained, licking his thumb before looking around the room again. “Ooo, what about her?”

You were on his back as you walked back across the beach, your feet were hurting because you decided to wear uncomfortable shoes that went with your dress and you’d refused to walk any further. He didn’t even flinch, just bent down in front of you and waited. He was carrying your shoes, babbling on about something John B had done.

“Where are we headed?” He asked, adjusting his hold on you. “The Chateau?”

“On the first date? Who do you take me for?” You smirked.

“Says the girl who slept with Brandon Gibbs after the first date. Am I not good enough for you?” He replied dramatically.

“Hey! You promised to never bring that up again,” you whined.

He laughed, suddenly stopping in his movements to drop you back down. Instead of giving you your shoes like you expected, he sat down on the sand and waited for you to join him. “There’s one part of a JJ Maybank date that we haven’t done yet.”

“On the beach? Dirty,” you smirked, sitting down next to him.

“Shuddup.” He pulled out a pre-rolled joint from his pocket, waving it in your face. “My speciality.”

“Did you grow it?”

“I’ve had enough of the smartass comments, baby.” You couldn’t come up with another one, not with the way the pet name left his lips. He’d called you baby plenty of times, but something about that moment just made it feel special.

You shared the joint, passing it back and forth as you talked softly to each other. By the time it was finished, you were sitting in his lap with your eyes half open and kisses being pressed to the side of your head.

“So, how’d I do?” JJ murmured, lips only inches away from your ear.

“10/10,” you replied, running your hand through his hair with a lazy smile. “Best date I’ve ever been on, hands down.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” he grinned. “You think I did good enough for a kiss?”

“Mhm, maybe,” you teased, turning your head so your lips brushed against his. He let out a shaky exhale, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands like he’d done earlier on; except this time, there was no juice.

His lips moved smoothly against yours, hands pulling you as close as humanly possible. His tongue licked over your bottom lip, causing a hum to leave yours.

“Do you want to go on a second date?” He murmured against your lips.

“And a third,” you grinned.

When you both finally pulled away, both your lips were puffy, your hair messy and cheeks flushed. Neither of you had ever looked happier.

“C’mon, you’re carrying me to the Chateau if you want that second date,” you stated, standing up.

“Am I gonna be the new Brandon Gibbs?”

“Not anymore, you’re not.”

[yjhariani]

Ghost X gn!reader (CoD X SCP)

You're an MTF soldier. They had to give you amnestics, but it went wrong and made you forget ever meeting your significant other. Was it actually just an accident or was there something more? (no promise of making this a series, but I'm trying).

Angst but not really.

Once Simon got the call, he knew something bad happened.

It was not your number. It was not your voice that called from the other side. Being in roughly the same field as you, he knew what this call meant.

Bad news.

Even though Simon personally had never made this kind of call before, he had been there a few times when his colleagues had to. Price dominantly.

All the calls were the result of one specific event. Death of a soldier.

So, Simon did not even let the caller finish their first sentence. He cut them off with a simple, “I’ll be there,” before hanging up.

Simon considered putting on his uniform, but he realised that where you work, everything was classified. It would be no use hiding himself because they knew who everybody was anyway. He was especially attached to you and he knew that meant the place you worked at probably knew what he ate for breakfast better than he himself did.

Once arriving at your base, Simon was not even surprised that one mention of your name got him rushed straight to the base hospital.

As of now, Simon had not decided what to feel. He just kept walking, following this person who took him to the dark part of the hospital. However, he accepted that he felt the slight confusion tugging at his mind when they continued walking pass instead of walking into the morgue.

Even so, Simon kept his words behind his tongue.

Soon, they reached a thick, barred, metal double door with two securities standing in front of them. The person leading their way only mentioned your name before the security officers—if that was what they were—unbarred the door and opened it.

Simon’s guide turned to face him and quietly, as if they were not supposed to make a noise here, said, “I don’t have clearance for this level, but you will see your partner’s Team Leader.”

With an understanding nod, Simon walked through the door into a short, dim-lit tunnel. At the end of it, a twin hospital door stood. From here, it looked like a regular hospital, only it was placed underground and had barely anyone inside.

Inside, stood awaiting, a soldier still in field uniform. She looked quite messy. It made Simon wonder if he had looked that messy when something this horrible happened to him in the field. Whatever this something was.

Seeing Simon, that older woman walked up to him and nodded, rubbing her hands nervously.

“Ghost,” she greeted. “Or do you prefer Lieutenant Riley?”

Outside his uniform? Both sounded bad. Simon was here for you. He could not care less what people address him with.

“Are they in one piece?” Simon asked right away.

Just after saying the question, it registered in Simon’s mind that he had been thinking that it must have been so bad that they had to bring him into this super-secure underground hospital just to ID you.

Connecting the dots, the woman scrunched her eyebrows as her head tilted slightly to the side.

“They’re not dead,” she said. “I tried to tell you in the call, but you didn’t seem to be taking any explanation.”

They’re not dead, Simon repeated in his head. A bleed of warmth grew in his chest.

“However,” the woman continued, “on our mission, something terrible has happened. Out of the five of us, only your partner and I made it out.”

Simon did not react. He did not say anything. He did not move a muscle.

“Your partner… needed amnestics administered in their system. We did—uh… we were in the middle of administering the amnestics when,” the woman took a deep breath and sighed, “we had a breach in the facility.”

There came a halt as the woman flipped through the words in her mind.

“We successfully administered the amnestics,” the woman stated. “Just… not the correct one.”

This time, a spasm came about Simon's forehead.

“Usually, we don’t share this detail, but your partner is very important to us and we respect them, so we are telling you this,” she paused before continuing, “What we initially intended to modify was the events of the last two days, but… with the breach happening, everything went, uh… out of our hands. Your partner has lost… the memory of all that happened in the past two years.”

It took a moment to sink in Simon’s head. Once it did, all he thought about was that he met you a little bit less than two years ago.

Simon was just about to meet the 141 at a pub when the whole area was suddenly secured. There were soldiers from the Foundations all over the place and they clocked them instantly. They asked for their assistance on a job that Simon did not have the memory of any more. One of the Foundations’ soldiers he worked with was you.

It was not the worst of missions that the 141 was able to not get amnestic administered—at least that they knew of. So, that meant Simon got to keep your memory. The two of you had not stopped talking since.

The thought of having himself removed from your memory at once made warmth that bled in Simon’s chest froze in an instant.

“I know how much they mean to you and we can offer to have you—”

Knowing what she wanted to say, Simon immediately cut her off with, “Where are they?”

With so, the woman led Simon to a room. She opened the door for him, but did not step in.

Stepping in with a heavy heart, Simon eventually saw you. You were sitting on the hospital bed, an IV plugged into the back of your hand, and several recent injuries were painted on you.

In your hands, Simon saw a familiar white envelope. Then, he saw that you finally looked at him. No smile. No recognition.

“Are you Simon?” you asked.

“I am,” was all that Simon managed to say.

“They told me,” you nodded before lightly waving the envelope in your hands. “Two weeks to go, huh? Guess you’d want to call off the wedding?”

Bullets in his flesh felt like nothing compared to what Simon just heard coming out of your mouth.

Stepping closer, Simon exhaled. He glanced at the wedding invitation in your hand, seeing that it was addressed to ORCA. You said it was your Team Leader, who Simon guessed was also the one to give you that invitation. The woman who Simon just saw.

“If you want to call it off, we call it off,” Simon did not even believe he said that, but refused to show that.

“You sound like you don't want to?” you asked.

Simon looked at you, lightly raising an eyebrow.

“I mean… I don’t know who you are,” you said. “I think?”

For a while, Simon only looked at you. What you had on your face was not your lying face. It was not a joke. It was real. You did not remember him at all.

There came the moment when the two of you said nothing, hardly looking at each other. Then, you stretched an arm out to the side table and lifted your phone.

“I read our texts, saw our pictures,” you said. “You seemed to be my everything.”

If he could, Simon would punch something so hard right now.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly said once seeing how Simon’s subtle reactions were. “I… I’m just trying to figure things out.”

“‘s all right,” Simon nodded, understanding.

You tried a thin, apologetic smile.

“Must be hard for you,” you said.

Another long pause came in between you both.

“Do you want to hug me?” you offered, arms lightly opened.

Usually, you did not even have to ask and Simon would just come right at you. However, it took a lot for Simon to hold himself back when you saw him as a stranger.

“You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” you cut him off. “Maybe it’ll feel familiar, I don’t know. If you want to.”

After a moment of consideration, Simon carefully approached you. Even though he moved slowly and with care, once the two of you got close enough, you attached yourselves to each other like magnets. Your arms lightly wrapped around each other before, as if there was a whirlpool in between you that pulled your cores, your arms tightened around each other.

The only reason Simon released you was because you let out a slightly uncomfortable exhale.

“Apologies,” Simon said, thinking he might have hugged you too tightly.

“No, it’s alright,” you replied.

Another moment passed with the two of you just looking at each other. It was apparent that you were studying him.

“At some point I’m going to have to be released from here,” you brought up. “Can I go home with you?”

“Sure you’re alright with that?” Simon asked.

“Are you?” you asked back.

Simon almost said ‘Totally!’ but then, he kept getting reminded that he was just a stranger to you and he was not always good with that type of relationship. Strangers tended to see him and avoided him, praying to never make eye contact with him.

However, you seemed genuine. He still saw the kindness and the shimmer in your eyes even though it was different from how you looked at him last–two weeks ago.

So, Simon said, “Yeah.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” you added eagerly. “If you don’t have the space, I don’t–”

“We just bought a house,” Simon almost excitedly replied.

“Oh,” you responded.

“We,” Simon hesitated to continue, “we adopted this devilish cat not long ago and he already pissed on everything.”

For the first time after Simon saw you laugh a couple of weeks ago, he saw you letting out a chuckle. For a second, Simon almost forgot that something bad had happened to you.

“I can help you clean up if you let me stay in your house,” Simon almost did not hear you say.

Our house, Simon wanted to say, but refused to.

“So… can I?” you asked.

“Already said yes,” Simon reminded.

“Okay,” you nodded.

No words were exchanged for some time after that.

“Are you staying here long? I wouldn’t mind getting to know you a little,” you said.

Simon let a small smile bloom on his face.

“You said that once,” Simon said, pulling a chair before he sat on it next to your bed.

[salparadiselost]

A random idea that I'm not ever sure I'm going to pick up and finish. AU is that everyone lives in a movie genre and the universe if governed by the rules of that genre. Bruce, fed up with being a failed lover interest, starts to adopt kids from other genres.

-----

"I don't get it," Dick says, standing at the top small set of stairs and looking down them. There's like six of them, hardly enough to actually call it a staircase. Dick could probably jump the full way down without hurting himself. It's definitely not a flight, just six steps to get from the raised dias of the bank's entry to the street. But Bruce is still hesitating at the top, staring at them like they are a snake curled up in the grass. 

The man who had assigned himself Dick's father (He doesn't need a father. He doesn't have parents. His parents are dead. Killed. For eight years, their case has gone untouched as cold as their corpses. He needs to solve it. He needs to find the killer. He has to. He has to. He has to...) drags his eyes from the stairs to Dick.

"You live in a *rom com*," Dick practically spat the words. He had been growing to hate this saturated colour, plastic world. There were too many people. None of the streets were ever empty. Movements from the corners of his eyes that his brain screamed could be someone pulling a gun, someone reached for a knife, someone passing a drug off to another, was usually just a woman dressed in LuLulemon pulling her yappy dog along. It was maddening the way that his brain wasn't built for this. He saw people doing things and his mind screamed that it was clues! It was evidence! You need to investigate it! You need. You need. You need.

But he doesn't. Because he doesn't exist here. The Graysons don't exist here. No one has been killed in this city for over 100 years apparently. The worse crime in the paper had been when Miss Betty accidentally stole cupcakes because her and Joe's orders got mixed up. They were getting married now apparently.

Dick shook his head trying to dislodge the part of him that was screaming that he was missing a clue. He tried to focus on the present. Him. Bruce. Stairs.

"This is a romantic comedy," he repeated. "It's all about love, so what's the fucking worse thing that could happen on the stairs."

"*It seems I've fallen for you*," said Bruce suddenly, his voice so devoid of emotion it startles Dick. Dick's eyes snap up to meet the other man's eyes, but Bruce is still looking at the stairs.

"That's the part of the script," he continues, his voice blank. It's disconcerting. Dick has only heard him peppy or bubbly or other words that paint him as a happy-go-lucky dog. He's never heard... this. "I fall down the stairs and I... I break something. I lay there until she's suppose to rush in. She's supposed to be a nurse or a doctor or maybe just someone with first aid training. She's supposed to treat me until the ambulance comes and I'm supposed to say *'it seems I've fallen for you'*"

Bruce finally looks at Dick and he can't even describe what's in the man's eyes. It's... he would almost call it haunted. The same glint that he has when he stares in the mirror.

"I've broken my leg from falling down stairs 48 times. I've broken one of my ankles 53 times. My left arm 18 and my right 26. Three times it's been my collarbone. One time after two flights, it was my back. I was paralyzed from the neck down. I couldn’t move a damn finger, so I just laid there in pain until the clock hit midnight and everything reset. And that’s just the staircase falls. There’s also the open manholes, the broken railings, getting hit by a car, a couple of times where a bridge gave out from under me. Any of them will do as long as I end up hurt and on the ground."

Dick stared. Coldness washed through his veins, fixing him to the spot. For the first time since he got here, fear settled into the pit of his stomach. The only thing he could think to say was: "I thought that nothing went wrong here?"

Bruce gave a harsh laugh that seemed more fitting for Dick's genre. "Everything works out if you actually have someone who wants to love you. If your love interest isn't interested or she just doesn't bother to turn up... well, the universe keeps trying to correct itself even if that means you have to lay in a crumpled, bloody heap at the bottom of stairs for a few hours."

He... he didn't know what to say. Say that he was sorry? That Bruce didn't have anyone coming to love him?

He looked back at the stairs and saw them how Bruce saw them. He tried to figure out what to say, but Bruce just turned on his heel.

"Let's go find the wheelchair ramp."

[loverboysturn]

✮⋆˙ newboy!matt and popular!reader have their first kiss !

read all newboy!matt writings here & find everything else here

note: this is obviously further down the timeline of anything else i have written for these two but i wanted to write something cute for them because everything else so far has been a lil angsty! after this the angst will continue tho..

for weeks now, you and matt had been spending more and more time together—hanging out after school most days, often spending time at his place with his brothers whilst you watched the three of them bicker, you’d take long drives around town, with no actual destination in mind, just the quiet hum of the car and the occasional glance between you. sometimes, you’d even sit in silence, both reading your books, each lost in them but still in the same space, just enjoying the presence of one another.

since you met him, there had always been something intense between you from the start, something neither of you had ever addressed. the lingering glances, the way it felt like the rest of the world was on pause when you were with him. you hadn’t said anything about your feelings for him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, afraid of the rejection because you know that would break you now, but you felt it, the pull towards him, you just prayed he felt the same.

tonight was no different, you were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, flipping through one of his books you’d grabbed off the shelf. matt was sat on the bed, his elbows rested on his knees, watching you as you read, his brow furrowed.

“you know” you say, not looking up at him. “i was thinking..you still haven’t told me what happened at your old school.”

matt winces, not because you asking him the question bothered him, but because he didn’t want to get into it all with you. not just yet.

“it got me to be transferred to your school, that’s all that should matter” he says, his voice casual, trying to play it down. “it’s not a big deal.”

you glance up at him then, a smirk forming on your lips. “yeah, sure. because people just get transferred to a new school for ‘no big deal’”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back slightly. “yeah, well i did.”

you close the book with a snap and set it down beside you, you were unconvinced. “i don’t buy it, pretty boy” you say, voice turning playful, almost flirty. “you have this whole mysterious tough guy act going on, and just give me a little time, and i’m gonna figure you out.”

“oh, are you now? what’s your plan of action then pretty girl?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

you smirk, slowly standing up. “i just want to see if all those rumors about you are all talk.”

he straightens himself up, catching the playful look in your eyes. “you sure you want to do that?”

you don’t hesitate, taking a step toward him, nudging his arm lightly. “come on tough guy, show me what you got.”

before he can react, you push him, gently but just hard enough for him to fall back on the bed. he laughs, not surprised, but impressed by your sudden act of confidence. the sound of his laugh sends a flutter through your chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“oh, it is so on now” he says, grinning as he moves quickly towards you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down onto the floor with him.

you let out a yelp, laughing, but quickly managing to squirm out of his grip, moving so you’re now on top of him straddling his chest, hands placed softly on his shoulders, pinning him down.

for a moment, you’re both frozen in place, completely caught in how the level of intensity in the room had switched, there was a feeling of something else, something neither of you had acknowledged yet.

you catch your breath as you instinctively lean in, your fingers curling against his t shirt, your eyes searching his face, your lips hovering just inches away from his, and you could feel your chest rise and fall quicker than usual. the playful energy between you had faded, leaving only unspoken tension that had been brewing for weeks.

matt couldn’t help it, he wasn’t sure who moved first, but before his mind could even catch up to his body, he was pulling you closer, lips crashing against yours. the kiss started slow, hesitant at first, like neither of you wanted the moment to end, it was soft, your lips brushing together in a way that felt more like an invitation than an action. as the world around you completely faded, the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this for a long time, and now that it had finally come, neither of you wanted to let go.

your hands find their way into his hair, tugging him closer. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, and he pulled you in tighter, deepening the kiss so it was slow and heavy. his hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing it lightly.

then, suddenly, the door swings open.

chris walks in abruptly, “matt, have you see—“ his voice cut off as he takes in the two of you, and he pauses, blinking in disbelief. “well, well…”

before matt could even react, chris was already calling down the hall. “nick! get in here, you gotta see this!”

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (4/?)

Purposely getting yourself kidnapped by the Autobots so you can persuade Ratchet to teach you some first aid, as you're worried that Megatron's escalating violence against Starscream will one day leave him with injuries you don't know how to fix.

There's more Ratchet in the middle (because I love him as well. I want to hold both of them in my hands with gentol totche.)

Mashup of timelines as usual, but I def realized that when I imagine Starscream he's visually the G1 or IDW design, and when I imagine Ratchet it's TFP. I love MTMTE Ratchet but I'm not quite caught up yet haha.

Since you and Starscream were now sharing a berth, it was inevitable that he would find out about the nightmares. Every time you jerked awake, you would take great pains to quietly settle back into berth even if recharge eluded you. The reason was simple - you didn't want to bother Starscream with it. He gets very little recharge as is, and probably sees things every solar cycle that are ten times worse that what you're faced with.

Starscream doesn't comment, if he knows - another bot might have rushed to console you, but his brand of comfort was to apparently grant you the dignity of being vulnerable in private, especially since you were more or less chassis to chassis with each other in berth.

However, he finally can't hold back when you begin zoning out during training. "Earth to cadet, as the fleshlings say," Starscream snapped, waving a servo in front of your faceplate. You jerk awake, optics cycling before they zero in woozily on Starscream's faceplate. Pinched with irritation, but was that... concern?

You lightly smack your helm in hopes it'll get your processor back to optimum function. No such luck, but it was worth a try. "Sorry, sir."

He narrows his optics at you, taking in the exhausted slump of your frame. For a long moment, no one says anything.

Then, Starscream abruptly turns heel, his back to you. "Dismissed."

But - but you've been here for barely a joor, and - "Sir, please, it won't happen again-"

"And waste my time and yours?" Starscream says bluntly. You flinch, but he just presses on.

"You're in no condition to absorb the information I am giving you, which, if I may add, is exceedingly valuable to your success as a seeker. Recharge properly, and perhaps your processor will be able to comprehend simple instructions such as 'stay awake'." He sniffs, but glances over his shoulder at you - and his optics are gentler.

"We will try our luck again then."

Your first response is to sag with relief even as you watch him stride away, because he wasn't giving up on you. Your second response, however, is that of pure consternation.

The nightmares have gotten worse.

Ever since you had to personally patch Starscream up as he bled out on the floor of his habsuite, the nightmares have gotten so much worse. There are momentary flashes of hate in your processor for Megatron, but they are quickly tamped down by fear. Even your mind is not a safe place, after all, with Soundwave here.

The memory of Starscream, broken and battered at your feet, replays over and over. In some of your nightmares, he is exactly as you found him - gouges in his frame, ripped wires, leaking energon. But just as you thought you'd gotten used to the memory (he's not like that anymore. He's alive and well. He's not like that anymore.), your processor decided to play tricks of the worst kind on you. Offering all kinds of ways Starscream could be hurt, in full technicolour detail, optics shuttered and frame unnaturally still. Worst of all, you could only watch as your processor conjured injuries beyond your rudimentary expertise, that Starscream could very well succumb to because you didn't know how to save him.

That night, the image in your processor is so bad that you bolt upright with coolant already leaking from your optics. You swipe roughly at your faceplates as the memory continues to remain fresh in your mind, fighting to get your trembling frame under control.

You turn to look at the bot next to you, if only to reassure yourself that he's okay, assuming he would be in recharge - but to your surprise, a pair of glowing red optics meet your frantic gaze.

"Sir," You manage to garble out, through the layers of static distorting your vocalizer. "I'm sorry for waking you."

Starscream says nothing. His optics flick to the coolant that drips from your faceplate even as you try to assure him that you're fine, and suddenly, he opens his arms to you in wordless invitation.

"I- sir?"

It's not the first time you would have recharged in his arms. But... this? You hesitate, unsure whether this is too much to ask. Evidently, you've hesitated for too long, because Starscream wraps a servo around your wrist and pulls you gently but insistently to him.

"I'm here," He murmurs gruffly, in low, musical Vosian. And it makes coolant spring to your optics all over again, because ever since Megatron had taken charge, he'd quickly ensured that all his soldiers spoke only standard Cybertronian - a quick and brutal 'show' had made sure of that. You slip into recharge with the gentle lilt of Vosian in your audials, and for once, no more nightmares plague you. You're even more surprised to awaken not to an empty berth, but still pressed up against Starscream's warm chassis.

"Oh, good," Starscream had rasped, vocalizer not quite activated after recharge. "You're awake. There are some things I must see to, so I trust you will stay out of trouble in my absence."

You barely had time to even nod before he was gone. Checking your internal chronometer, you whistle quietly. Was it that late already? Had... had Starscream stayed on purpose, so you wouldn't panic upon seeing an empty berth?

You feel more recharged than you have in many solar cycles. However, your newfound energy and the warmth thrumming through your spark for your commander has only strengthened your determination to do something. Starscream might have kept the nightmares at bay last night, but you knew it wasn't sustainable. The only way you can bring some semblance of peace to yourself and him is if you can become confident in your abilities to repair him without external help.

Which is, admittedly, a lot easier said than done.

You knew you were about to do something really, really stupid.

The Decepticons had traded tales about an Autobot medic named Ratchet, before. The way they spoke of him with begrudging respect was enough for you to believe that Ratchet could work literal miracles, and that was precisely what you needed right now. But how could you possibly approach him?

You've heard enough about the Autobots, observed enough about them to know where they differed from the Decepticons. One major difference was that even when they took prisoners, they were not cruel. What if...?

You're too deep into this to give up. There's too much at stake here - despite the risk, if Ratchet was willing to hear you out, you might one day have a fighting chance to save Starscream's spark from flickering out. Which is how you found yourself trekking along the side of a dusty, abandoned road along some dry, sandy plain, not making any effort to hide yourself as you hoped for an Autobot to come across you.

But at the same time, what if they didn't let you go after taking you prisoner?

Before you can continue to second guess yourself, the roar of a well-oiled motor engine sounds behind you, and you almost laugh at how obvious you're being. A seeker, walking? The Autobot scout, Bumblebee, skids to a stop behind you, and you hear the smooth clicking and whirring of his transformation.

"Looking for trouble?"

Not particularly, You think, turning round to face him, but as Bumblebee falters, you realize you've spoken out loud.

This is the first time you've come face to face with the scout. You're about the same age, and for a moment, you both regard the other with open curiosity, like bots being introduced for the first time by a mutual acquaintance. In another timeline, you wonder if you could have been friends.

Bumblebee squints, looking unsure whether or not to drop his fighting stance. You make no move to engage, and simply stand there, servos dangling limply by your sides. This idea is really, really stupid.

"Defecting?"

You reset your vocalizer. "Not exactly."

"Still enemies, then," Bumblebee says, and he doesn't bother to hide the note of disappointment in his voice. Enemies. He doesn't even know you. You wonder if the divide between you runs too deep, even if only in name for you. Is there nothing more to you beyond faction name?

The bubbling hope of confessing to Bumblebee your real intentions abruptly withers. Why, indeed, would he help you if he knew you wanted to help the SIC of the Decepticons? Still, you hated to say it, but it seemed that Bumblebee had the privilege of naivety for a few more stellar cycles at least, under Optimus' kind guidance. Within the Decepticon ranks, you'd quickly learned that some bots simply didn't deal in kindness. You supposed it was back to the original plan, then.

"I've been out here for a while," You say, pretending to stagger a few steps. You are in the middle of a scorching hot desert plain, after all. Casting your hook, you hope to Primus that Bumblebee buys the act, because even to you, it looks phony as hell.

"I think I'm lost." Bumblebee, who was originally looking suspiciously at you, widens his optics as his little antennae twitch upwards in shock. Line.

You stagger even closer, pressing a servo to your helm. "Bumblebee-" You close your eyes and pray to Primus that the Autobots are actually nice. You really haven't thought any further beyond getting yourself captured. Maybe you wouldn't even get the chance to talk to Ratchet. But you're too far into your little one-man show to back out now. You crash to the ground, and with your optics offlined, hear Bumblebee's yelp of shock, the scuff of dry earth beneath his pedes as he races over to you. And sinker.

"Oh, Primus," Bumblebee mutters. "Why couldn't it just have been a fight? I can do that."

You're honestly hating this war more and more. Bumblebee felt so much like a little brother - you're torn between fighting to keep the laughter from bubbling up, and the need to scold him for letting his guard down so easily. What if it was a genuine trap you'd set for him? He'd rushed to your side with no regard for his own safety. Then again, this was exactly what you'd been banking on - you count your lucky stars that it was indeed Bumblebee you'd run into and not anyone else.

"Ratchet," You hear Bumblebee say into his comm. "There's a 'con here, but not in good shape." Just to really drive it home, you groan weakly from where you're collapsed in a heap on the ground. It must have worked, because Bumblebee's voice pitches upwards in slightly panicked urgency. "Yeah, yeah, I'll bring them through. Thanks, Ratchet."

Huh. You really hadn't expected it to be that easy. The tales you'd heard of the Autobot medic were from when you used to sleep in the barracks with the lower-ranking Decepticons. This varied from his rough bedside manner, his surprising ability to fight ("He had green, glowing optics," One Decepticon said with a shudder), his past as the 'Party Ambulance' (what.) to his relative fame amongst older bots as a highly respected neurosurgeon before the war broke out. Most strikingly, he'd apparently patched up Autobots and Decepticons alike on the battlefield.

"It's some medic code he has," Snorted the Decepticon next to you. "Stupid, if you ask me. Why fix up the bots who are out to get you?"

"Lay off the medic," Another bot admonished sharply. "You might not like it, but quite a few of us owe our sparks to him."

A couple of low, murmured agreements resounded around the room. There was undeniably a begrudging respect for him all around, and a fair number of the bots clearly didn't want to be the ones to take him out, if it ever came to that.

You were thinking about Ratchet even when the lights went out. Even though you'd never met him personally, admiration swirled in your spark for the bot with such a strong moral code that he would never falter in his actions. You'd always dreaded having to choose a side. Being with Starscream meant that you'd 'chosen' the Decepticons, sure - but it was Starscream you were loyal to, not Megatron. You'd resigned yourself to eventually signing your spark away to the cause, because you couldn't think of any other way to survive there. But perhaps, you think, you could be like Ratchet.

And now - as Bumblebee carried you through the swirling groundbridge, your spark thrummed at the possibility of imminently meeting him for real.

As soon as the roar of the portal closed behind you, your audials prick up as a low, gruff voice speaks.

"Are you hurt?"

"Not a dent," Bumblebee says. "Not sure about this one, though."

"Just the one?"

"Yup."

"Huh," The other voice says. "I'll tell Optimus to keep an eye on that area. Never know if the Decepticons are planning something."

You feel Bumblebee shrug, even with you gathered in his arms. One of these days, you really have to tell him off for being too trusting. Enemy or not, he seemed like a decent bot and you didn't want trust to be the thing that destroyed him.

A deep sigh. "Put them in the med bay and go refuel first."

"Sure thing," Bumblebee chirped, and you felt the cold metal of a medical berth against your wings. A few nanokliks passed, and you continue to remain still, pretending to be unconscious. Should you...? Ratchet, however, beat you to it. "Alright," He groused, as soon as you heard the door to his med bay slide shut. "Get up. I know you're not actually unconscious."

Your eyes shoot open. "How-?"

The bot in front of you looks unimpressed. "I'm a medic."

"Right," You mutter sheepishly. Sitting up on the medical berth, you take in the sight of Ratchet for the first time. Red and white, built and stocky. Rounded helm, pointed chevrons. You finally work your way to his faceplate. Glowing blue optics stare exasperatedly back at you.

"Sorry," You mumble, and Ratchet sighs again. He seems to do that a lot. Then again, he seems very tired. You don't blame him.

"If you're done," He grumbles, "I'd like to know why you got yourself kidnapped on purpose." There's an air of mistrust in his optics now, a tenseness to his frame that you don't like. In a way though, you're grateful that he's cutting right to the chase.

"I wanted an audience with you," You begin, haltingly. Ratchet's optics narrow slightly, but he doesn't say anything and just waits for you to continue. "I heard that you fixed up both Autobots and Decepticons before, because you have a code. And I know you're an Autobot - " You glance at the polished insignia on his chassis, "- but I'm kind of... like that, too."

Speech was never your strong suit, and you were glad Starscream often did the talking for you. His silver tongue had surely gotten the both of you out of a few tight spaces before, but you never dared to ask about the details. Fortunately, a sharp in-vent tells you that Ratchet has understood what you were clumsily trying to get across. He crosses his arms over his bulky chassis, optics roving carefully over your faceplate as he assesses the situation.

"So," He asks carefully, "What's your code based on?"

Ah. He'd seemed receptive so far, potentially persuaded to your own one-man cause, but here was the detail that might make him eject you bodily from his med bay.

"Starscream."

You watch as a range of emotions flit across Ratchet's faceplate. Eventually, it settles on confused and mildly horrified. "Starscream? Are you sure?"

"Yes," You say, feeling oddly defensive. Ratchet seems to pick up on this, and he unfolds his arms with an even deeper sigh. "A seeker," He mutters, optics flicking over your form as if really just seeing you for the first time. "How old are you?"

You tell him.

Ratchet pinches the bridge of his helm, between his optics, a bone-deep weariness emanating from his frame. "I'm assuming you're one of Starscream's students, then," He says.

"The last one," You add quietly. The Quintessons launched an attack on the Vosian Air Academy, and I was the only one who survived."

"...Ah."

Another hum, and this time, his optics are appraising, as if something had clicked into place. You, a youngling like Bumblebee, would not be sitting before him with your paint in near pristine condition, had someone not taken you under their wing. Literally and metaphorically.

"So what is it you want from me?"

"Can you teach me some first aid?" You blurt. Ratchet's brows furrow.

"I could," He says, confusion evident in his voice. "But what for? Don't the the Decepticons have a medic?"

"Well, yes," You hedge, "But, you know. Starscream."

That part he understands - it was no secret that the Decepticons had a brutal system of hierarchy that relied on shows of power. It made sense that Starscream wouldn't want to be seen in a vulnerable state. But there's still something he's missing.

"As far as I know," Ratchet presses carefully, "Starscream has not sustained any major injuries at the hands of the Autobots in recent stellar cycles."

You probably shouldn't be revealing so much information about the inner workings of the Decepticons, but as your hate for Megatron simmers into exhaustion, you slump on Ratchet's medical berth and decide to tell him anyway.

"Megatron... punishes him. A lot."

Ratchet seems slightly taken aback by that. Anyone with functioning optics could tell that the Decepticons were kept in line by fear, and it was no secret that violence ran rampant within the ranks - but to hear it so plainly that even their SIC was no exception? And to have you, trembling before him, desperate to help him, clearly knowing that rudimentary first aid was not enough for whatever injuries Megatron had inflicted - it must be worse than Ratchet had ever thought.

He checks his internal chronometer - you've been here for about a joor. Soon, someone is going to come looking for you, and neither faction is looking particularly appealing right now.

"We don't have much time. Hurry up and get over here."

Your helm shoots up as Ratchet pivots crisply away from you, suddenly all business. You leap off the medical berth, following him to a large table where he thunks down a heavy med kit. This Ratchet, intense, precise, laying a series of tools in front of you with deft servos, is undoubtedly the war medic that had earned every inch of respect he got. Now you understand why the Deceptions were so begrudgingly impressed by him.

Ratchet hesitates for a nanoklik before pulling out some even more complicated looking tools. Is this really happening? At your wide, awestruck optics, Ratchet huffs, a light flush of energon on his faceplate at your bursting admiration. "Alright already. Stop staring at me and pay attention."

Two joors pass before you hear the sounds of a commotion outside. Ratchet's audials flick agitatedly before he glances at you. "You'd better go," He murmurs, low and urgent.

Go? Just like that? Ratchet must have seen you freeze up in disbelief, because he snarls and springs into action for both of you, ushering you out of medbay and towards the groundbridge.

"I'm sure you know how to get back," He says, quick and curt, typing in a set of coordinates. The groundbridge shimmers to life. "Go," He orders, in a voice that brooks no argument. I'll handle this."

You give him one last, lingering glance before you step through the glowing green portal. Ratchet's staring at you too, something hovering unspoken in his optics. "Kid," He finally calls, as the sound of the commotion approaches. "No matter where this war takes you, be true to yourself."

You give him a jerky nod, overwhelmed but endlessly grateful.

With that, the groundbridge warps out of existence behind you, leaving behind a cacophony of Autobot shouts and abruptly plunging you back into the silent, sandy plain where you first met Bumblebee.

For a nanoklik, you feel so very alone.

But leaving Starscream was out of the question. Amidst all the uncertainty in the war, this is the one thing you're sure of. You leap into the air, transforming into your alt mode. If you were lucky, Starscream would still be on duty and you could sneak back before anyone had realized you were gone. You spiral through the air, picking up speed as night begins to fall. The flames of your thrusters illuminate the purple dusk as you add another burst of speed, your form now a screaming blur in the sky.

But before you can reach your destination, your destination reaches you first. Your only warning is a streak that blitzes into your field of vision before something huge and heavy tackles you out of the sky.

The impact completely knocks your systems offline for a nanoklik. Unable to even scream, you struggle to force your systems to reboot, gain back control of your frame as you hurtle towards the ground - but strangely enough, you quickly realize that you're not freefalling wildly through the air. Battling against the screaming winds at your back, you force your optics open to see none other than a furious Starscream, his servos gripping your arms with deathly force as he drives you downwards.

"Where the Pit were you?" He hisses, over the shrill whistling of air in your audials. "I've just spent the last few joors hunting every corner of this slagging dirtball for your sorry aft!"

As you plummet downwards, you struggle to make sense of his words. He was looking for you?

"What if Megatron got to you first?" He snarls, denta bared. "I told you to stay put! Do you treat my words like slag?"

You didn't think he'd catch you sneaking out, but you never imagined he'd be this angry. Both of you rocket through the clouds, the green environment of Earth swirling into your field of vision. Was this it? Had Starscream finally decided you were more trouble than you were worth? You wouldn't blame him. Shuttering your optics, you brace yourself for impact. His servos, where he's touching your frame, are warm. That's how you'd remember him, before you go out. Stolen moments of warmth with him. After all he'd done for you.

But over the screaming wind in your audials, your don't hear so much as feel his engines screech as he pulls up at the last minute. The warmth of his servos abruptly leave you, and your optics fly open as you are dropped a few meters above a patch of open grass and promptly eat ground. As you push yourself up with a groan, not so much sore but still ablaze with adrenaline, the realization suddenly hits. What Starscream did... Was not unlike how carriers and sires dealt with unruly seeker sparklings when they refused to leave the air. You shake your helm in disbelief, spitting out another mouthful of earth soil. Starscream... had quite literally grounded you. Huh.

You roll over to the sight of him seething above you, his ruby optics alight with rage, intake twisted in a snarl.

"Imagine," He hisses, looming over you, "When I learned you were being held captive by the Autobots - have you no sense of self-preservation in that scrap-filled processor of yours? Have I taught you absolutely nothing?"

His wings shudder with barely concealed anger as he begins to pace. "And of all the bots, it had to be that pit-slagged femme who blocked my way!"

Arcee? You're not too familiar with the Autobots, but you remember Starscream had literally shrieked himself into stasis after a particular battle with the Autobots over an energon mine, where a certain pink femme had foiled his plans at the very last nanoklik.

Wait. Arcee had blocked his way? You stare blankly at him as it sinks in that the commotion you heard earlier... was in fact Starscream singlehandedly blasting his way through the Autobot base to save you.

"Oh," You say.

"Oh?" Starscream screeches, wings twitching furiously. "Oh? That's all you have to say for yourself?"

You still can't bring yourself to speak as you gaze up at him. And slowly, a smile splits your faceplate. You can't help it. You smile big and bright up at your commander. "What?" He demands shrilly. "What is it?" He does falter, rage dropping momentarily from his faceplate and muting into confusion when you start to laugh. Relief, adrenaline, admiration, all at once.

"It was worth it." You gasp, through your fit on the ground. All this was worth it for Starscream, who'd against all better judgement risked his own helm to come looking for you, because he was worried. You'd carefully filed away every detail of Ratchet's instruction this afternoon. With the knowledge he'd bestowed upon you and extra bandages in your subspace, the gamble had paid off, because the chances of you preserving Starscream's spark had skyrocketed if the worst came to pass.

Starscream just stares at you, a hysterically giggling heap on the ground. "It was worth it!" You shriek, because Starscream is the one who found you and for now, you are safe.

You finally come back to yourself after a few cycles of wheezing almost soundlessly in your relief. You're sure there's coolant smeared over your faceplates and you look like a mess, but you don't give a frag - not when your stupid plan actually came to something. "Sir," You sigh to Starscream, who's still frozen above you, optics tracking your faceplate as you finally simmer down. "I'm going to have the best recharge of anybody today."

Unexpectedly, this douses Starscream's anger. He studies you carefully for a nanoklik. You take this rare moment to shamelessly drink in his handsome features - the sharp, defined ridges of his cheeks, the brightness of his optics, and the disapprovingly flattened line of his intake (okay, but still). Did he think that the nightmares, the war had finally broken your processor? It had happened to a few of the Decepticons. That would explain the flicker of worry in his optics - but he seems to find what he's looking for in your faceplate, so he simply sighs, all of a sudden looking more tired than you've seen him. He extends a servo to you.

"Get up."

You gingerly put your servo in his much larger one, feel his fingers close around yours as he pulls you up with much more gentleness than you're sure you deserve.

"I won't ask," Starscream begins. His optics flash. "But I will find out sooner or later."

You nod, trying for serious, but you must still have vestiges of a smile on your faceplate. Starscream stares at you and plants his hands on his hips.

"And don't think this will go unpunished. You think sneaking out is funny? Not when I'm through with you. You'll have done so many circuits of the 16-point roll that your wings will have dropped off by then. Sneaking off? Primus help you if it happens again. You think I'm coming to drag your sorry aft back home? Hah!"

I mean. He would come for you, but you wisely keep this to yourself as he gesticulates wildly to prove his point, even if both of you know it's more for show than anything.

Finally, he finishes his tirade with a huff. "It's dark," He says shortly, and glances at you. In the dark, his optics cast a soft glow on your faceplate.

"Eugh. Primus, wipe that stuff off your faceplate or it'll stain." Two large servos come down either side of your helm, and you can't help but flinch as Starscream swipes his thumbs over your cheeks to clean the coolant off. Still admonishing you, but his voice is forgiving and wraps around you like a warm blanket. "Stop squirming."

Finally, your faceplate relatively un-smudged, Starscream breaks apart from you. You try to soak in this moment as long as possible, wishing it could always be like this. Just the two of you, under a sky full of stars. This planet's view of the solar system could really be beautiful. You glance back to find Starscream looking at you, also looking reluctant to leave. However, he has to play the bad guy. He always does.

"Come on," He says, but it's gentle. "Let's go."

Previous

[mandarinmoons]

Fluff request incoming!

Spencer and reader being on a date going to an aquarium and Spencer telling her facts about each animal/fish and then when he tries to stop her off she asks him to stay because she has something for him and she gifts him her favorite rock/crystal and says he’s her otter. 🦦

Finally gathering his courage, Spencer walked towards you at work with shaky hands as he mumbled to himself what he was about to ask you. He had seen you in a different light for quite some time now and as said by the wise words of David Ross, “Shoot your shot kid or you’ll wallow on your deathbed not knowing what could’ve happened.”

And now here you were, Spencer smiled to himself as he watched your head turn from one side to the other in awe as the both of you were surrounded by an array of different sea creatures. Spencer remembered how he had heard you talking to Penelope and mentioned the new otter exhibit at the local aquarium and what a perfect place for a first date that would be, he thought.

On one side of the aquarium there were turtles floating through the water and on the other there were dolphins coming around to greet the people on the other side of the glass wall. Seeing everyone smile and chuckle at the actions of the animals only made your smile grow, which in turn made Spencer’s smile widen as well.

“Spence, look!”

You pointed to a school of clownfish, swimming towards an anemone.

“It looks like they’re getting ready to lay the eggs.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, clownfish and sea anemones have a symbiotic relationship which means they both benefit from it. The anemone protects the clownfish from predators as well as providing food through the scraps left from the anemone's meals and occasional dead tentacles and functions as a safe nest site for the clownfish. And in return the clownfish defends the anemone from its predators and parasites.”

“That’s really cool.”

“It is yeah.”

Spencer’s hand rested on your lower back as you stood and watched the fish swim by you, lightly leaning into his embrace as his arm snaked onto your side. Spencer’s eyes still stayed on you, smiling as you pointed at the fish in front of you.

After some time of admiring the assortment of fish, Spencer took you to a part of the aquarium he deemed perfect for you. Closing your eyes at his request, you carefully followed him along and your eyebrows furrowed when you heard a tapping noise get louder.

“What’s that sound?”

“You’ll see, hold on.”

The weird sound kept getting louder and louder, but you kept your eyes closed and trusted the man guiding you.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

The sight in front of you made your heart sore. There were an array of sea otters, hitting oysters against rocks to try and break them for food.

“Oh my god!”

Spencer chuckled as you kept watching the animals in wonder. Seeing you pout at the sight, Spencer poked your cheek and laughed as you swatted his hand away. He saw the light blush on the corner of your cheeks and felt his turn the same shade.

“What? It’s cute when you pout.”

“Not as cute as the otters.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

After a good while of watching the loveable animals, Spencer walked you back home, a smile on each of your faces from the activities of the day. You kept talking about how much you adored the otters you saw and Spencer listened eagerly, seeing your eyes glimmer from the love you had for the animals made his heart soar more than he thought it ever could.

“Oh wait before you go, I want to give you something.”

Spencer waited outside of your door as you quickly ran inside. A few minutes later you returned, taking Spencer’s hand in yours and placing an item in it.

“Something that otters do is give the prettiest rock to their mates, I think it’s adorable and thought of doing the same with you.”

The rock you placed in Spencer’s hand was an orange calcite. Spencer smiled as he thought of the meanings associated with the stone: helping to bring feelings of positivity and stability, bringing courage to trust yourself better, all qualities that exude from you.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Maybe we’ll get to do this again one day.”

“Definitely, I’ll make sure of it.”

Wrapping your arms around Spencer for a hug, a warm feeling flooded both of your hearts as you held each other. Spencer’s hand rested on your back, thumbs lightly caressing the area as you rested your head on his shoulder. You had only gone on one date, but something inside of you told you that you just might’ve found your mate for life.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[mysoftboybensolo]

Things I Don't Understand of Audiences Reaction of Nosferatu 2024

Complaints of how this is a ripoff of Dracula, and I am like, of course it is! The original 1922 film is the most famous ripoff in the history of cinema, but it is also one of the best ripoffs ever. Maybe know your history just a bit.

Why are people saying that Ellen dying was stupid or unnecessary? Firstly, that has been the ending in the 1922 and the 1979 film, this wasn't just anything Eggers pulled from nowhere. Secondly, people don't seem to understand that the Gothic genre never not one that allows it's characters to walk away unscathed, whether it is physical damage or mental damage. Blood is demanded, and hardly a truly happy ending is found, at best a bittersweet ending or at worst an ending where everyone is unhappy. I think not only is it true to the films this one is based on, but also the only satisfying ending. Ellen wouldn't have been truly happy if she had survived, because she still will be a seer, she will still have darkness looming inside, and Thomas is either incapable or unwilling to accept it. He's belief that killing Orlok will bring a reset to everything, even bringing Ellen back to how she was before, but the Ellen she was before was still suffered. He brushes aside her nightmares without comfort, he doesn't take into account how she views their marriage (when she insists that she doesn't need material things but he acts as if he knows better), and when she tries to express her suffering, he would prefer her to suppress it. She would never be truly free, but to die doing a good thing, to have control over her death the way she didn't in life, it's an empowering end, if bittersweet.

People complaining about the pace of the film, saying it starts off fine but then drags in the middle? I think the film flowed wonderfully, there was never a moment when I was thinking how much longer to the end or felt it rushed in the story. I personally cannot wait until we get the extended version, but I am happy with how it came out.

Where are people getting "Orlok groomed Ellen" from? Grooming is when someone goes after a minor and gets them to be emotionally attached to them for a long period of time in order to achieve some sort of goal (often times sex). People have been saying Ellen was a "literal child", but we don't know that for certain. Yes, Ellen described herself as a child, but it seems that the term child is used more as a synonym of "inexperienced" or "young". Also, we are not sure how old any of these characters are. If we were to go by actors ages as guidelines, Lily-Rose Depp was 24 when filming this, and all we get in between the first scene to the present day is merely "years later". That can mean two years or ten, we cannot be sure. And while Lil-Rose Depp can look younger than her age, no one better try and say she was playing a 12 year old or whatever in that first scene, because there is no way you can convince me she is as young as that. Also, Ellen hadn't been emotionally attached to Orlok between the years to make it grooming. I can make a better argument of grooming in another famous Gothic movie the 2004 "Phantom of the Opera" then I could with "Nosferatu".

Listen, this movie won't be for everyone, that is fine, but what I have an issue with is saying people are dumb or evil for thinking Ellen x Orlok is interesting/has romantic elements to it. One person commented on another's post about saying that the cast are dumb for seeing this as a love triangle, especially Lily-Rose Depp for not seeing Ellen as a victim. The director, who also wrote it, wanted this version to play up the Death and the Maiden themes, that was their vision, and I don't think it's right or fair to say they are dumb because the original movie wasn't a love triangle. If we were to be really anal about it, so many pieces of media we have we wouldn't be able to enjoy because it's origins are not the same. Sorry Disney's Hunchback fans, you can't enjoy the happy ending because the original was a downer. Sorry Wicked fans, it's nothing like "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", so it shouldn't be enjoyed. See how ridiculous it sounds? You can debate if whether or not they managed to achieve their goal, but you can't deny that was the intention and say people are dumb for picking up what they had intended.

I also feel that it's quite hypocritical of people to say that the relationship between Orlok and Ellen is evil and creepy, but then go off and say that the scenes where Friedrich has sex with Anna's corpse as "romantic" and Thomas' couch scene as "hot", when both deal with dubious/no consent at all. Just admit it, you are fine with dubious stuff so long as it's a hot guy doing it. The couch scene was quite uncomfortable for me, Ellen is clearly not in her right mind, even if not by some kind of possession, but emotionally, and it didn't sit right what Thomas did. I am not saying he raped her, but she wasn't in the right mind space to have this be a passionate moment. And he wasn't doing because of love or passion, he was doing it because he didn't like hearing Ellen say how he couldn't please her like the Count could. We had seen what they are like when they are in a good head space and the feeling mutual, as we saw in the den of the Harding's home. I feel like this scene wasn't meant to be a hot and sexy moment, but a incredibly distressing moment when two individuals are acting at their worst.

I don't understand how people feel that this film isn't a feminist film. I've seen people claim that the movie shames Ellen and that her not finding out how to stop Orlok is robbing her of her agency. Here's the thing, yes, many characters shame her for what she feels, but the narrative doesn't. As the audience, we feel sorry for her, feel bad for everything she is going through, and given the time period, of course there would be many people (mainly men) who will shame her passions or deny her darkness in favor for a more "womanly behavior". We are meant to see how the human world would never understand Ellen the way Orlok would understand her, why she would have called out a force that is inhuman, because humanity has turned her away. What's fascinating is that Ellen has control of Orlok, being able to call him, speak to him as an equal, and get him, a powerful centuries old being, to admit that she is his affliction, his weakness, and in the end, it's proven right. This mortal woman is able to defeat a supernatural being, all the while him loving her, how is that not awesome and feminist?

In regards to her finding the cure; true, in both the '22 and '79 film, Ellen figure out on her own what needs to be done to stop Orlok, but that doesn't mean '24 Ellen isn't smart or in charge of her own actions. We've seen Ellen say what the future holds multiple times, so it isn't crazy to believe that she would have seen what her fate would have been as it drew closer, and her need to talk to Von Franz read to me as her knowing the cure. When Ellen walks Von Franz to his home, she says that she knows what must be done, and they work together to make this happen, with him promising to keep Thomas away. Out of all the men, Von Franz had been the only one to take her feelings and thoughts seriously, and he does so here, including her in the plan (where Thomas had refused her to help), even giving her the chance to be stop Orlok without interruption. He isn't denying her agency, he's keeping others at bay so she can be the hero.

I like the moustache, just like a Romanian nobleman would have had, exactly what the director wanted. After leaving the theatre, my friend and I were discussing the film, and of course the design of Orlok was brought up, and she said "I liked it, especially the moustache, very Vlad the Impaler". She isn't a massive Dracula fan but she understood what was the inspiration behind it. Y'all are just uncultured swine.

In the end, I love this film, and wanted to just share my two cents.

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

The Sonic bois and how/why they respect women

(This is all just my crack headcannons pls don't take it seriously)

Sonic - Respects them out of fear. Every woman he has ever known can kick his ass and he ain't looking to jump into an early grave by being stupid.

Tails - Respects them because he has no concept of gender norms. Living on the go with Sonic most of his life Tails had no time to think over what society deemed as "appropriate gender roles". The only category that matters to him is weather you're a friend or foe.

Knuckles - Respects them as equals, though it's more in the sense that he just does not care about gender what so ever. He doesn't care what the hell you identify as, if you piss him off he WILL throw hands with you.

Shadow - Respects them because he believes they're superior to men. The most competent, level headed people in his life were ALL women. He does NOT like men and thinks they're all stupid.

Silver - Respects them because the future is just woke like that. Bro, you don't respect women?? What are you from like medieval times or something?? That's so cringe dude!

Vector - Respected them at first because it was the chivalrous thing to do but over the years began leaning more about feminism. Most likely raised to respect women because "men have a duty to protect them" and as the years went by he began educating himself on more complex feminist topics. He's still very gentlemanly towards them but he makes a conscious effort not to demean them or treat them like some sort of damsel in distress.

Espio - Respects them because he grew up in a matriarchy and assumed that was the norm for everyone else. His mother was the leader of shinobi clan, most of the people in her council were women, his teachers and sensei were mostly women, and women were expected to fight in battle just as much as men were. When he first joined Team Chaotix he was surprised that Vector was actually the one in charge.

Charmy - Respects them because that's what Vector and Espio do so he copies them. If Charmy would have been raised in a normal bee colony (also run by a matriarchy) he probably would have ended up like Espio. He admires and looks up to both Vector and Espio, thus will mimik their behavior.

Eggman - Does not respect women though really he doesn't respect ANYONE but himself. He looks down on everyone regardless of gender, with the exception of Sage because that is his precious daughter.

Big the Cat - Respects them because he's chill like that. Ain't got a hateful bone in his body. All his thoughts are about fishing and his pet Froggy.

[opheliachoi99]

Ocean Eyes ♡̷

MICHAEL KAISER X READER

ABOUT : A short scenery where you appreciate his beautiful ocean eyes, from lifeless, to full of life inside his ocean eyes.

note : this is a short one because I just wanna appreciate my love for Kaiser. Enjoy!

— You were only an elementary student during the time and you noticed the transferee in your class keeps on hugging his old, scratched, taped soccer ball, while curling in his desk, wearing a black hoodie almost everyday. You could barely see his full face.

When someone touches his soccer ball he immediately smacks the shit out of them, it's as if that ball was his lifeline.

You noticed his fists were filled with bandages, you felt worried. But there was nothing you could do, you were too afraid to approach him, he seemed scary-looking in your perspective.

A few days passed, and you noticed he hasn't came to class. You checked the attendance sheet and his present days were a total blank. You bit your lower lip, curious of what had happened to him.

You were walking home when you noticed a kid underneath the big bridge near you, trying to kick a familiar ball that bounces back to him in the face. You found it funny where he repeatedly kicked the soccer ball towards the wall and bounces back towards his face, causing him to groan in pain, but continuously repeats the same actions.

You approached this kid and you gasped as you were familiar with him "It's you! Transferee!" This kid turns to you "Huh?"

You gasped again when you saw bruises and scratches on his face. "W-what happened to your face?" You innocently asked.

"It's none of your business." He coldly replied. You were a stubborn one so you approached him grabbing your band-aid collection in your bag "Let me put these!"

"H-hey!" He could barely move as if he was traumatised when someone forcefully touches him. You removed his hood and you paused.

You stared into his lifeless eyes, but you adored how beautiful his eyes were. Those beautiful ocean eyes. You were mesmerized, your touch softens. You two were stuck in the same position, he was looking helpless so he gave up defending himself. "You're strong.."

"Y-you have beautiful eyes.." You stutter as you placed band-aid on his face one-by-one.

Soon after, you two started talking casually "Thank you.." "Does it still hurt?" He shook his head. "Not quite anymore.." You smiled "You know me right? I'm your classmate! You couldn't notice me because I was always in the back doing some doodles.." You pouted "I know you, but you don't know me.. I'm Michael, Michael Kaiser.."

You smiled "Michael... Can I call you micha?" He stared at you for a second "Sounds weird but okay.." You jumped for joy "You're my friend now! Come to school tomorrow okay? You've been absent for days now." You pouted. "I got to go, my mom might be looking for me by now, you should go home too!" You waved goodbye, leaving Kaiser fascinated about you.

Ever since then, you and him were inseparable. You knew he was abused by his father ever since his mom left them, and you knew why he had a soccer ball with him everyday, it was his only friend. His dream was to be a striker, so you were more interested in him and supported his goals all the way.

9 years passed since you two became the closest, but a year ago, he confessed. In which you and Kaiser are now a thing.

You realised, that Kaiser was a good-looking guy, ever since he dyed his hair tips metallic blue, and had a blue rose tattoo on his neck, and rose thorns all the way to his biceps and to his wrist, and a crown on his back hand.

Gosh he was divine..

It was his game today, which is a huge one, because if he wins they would be competing for FIFA, and one step closer, his dreams would come true.

And of course you were there, because without you, he wouldn't be motivated at all.

And obviously they won, leaving you so happy that you had to jump out from your seat, and the first thing Kaiser did was to run towards you. Everyone saw and it was viral online and it was on the news too! Everyone seemed to notice you were the girlfriend of their star player since he approached you and you were wearing his jersey "KAISER, 10"

As he was hugging you, you felt warmth "I'm so proud of you my micha.." You glanced in his ocean eyes.. "You're so beautiful schatz.. I love you.." He kissed you passionately, everyone in the stadium cheered.

His eyes from being lifeless, to being so fulfilling, because you loved him. All because you were drawn to his ocean eyes.

Fin.

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇʙᴏʀɴ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Celebrating Her.

Short summary: after spoiling you the entire day, Tom makes sure your special day ends in a blast.

Warnings: 18+ only! nipple play, fingering, slight degradation, choking, rough sex, unprotected p in v, ooc Tom but it’s okay because it’s my birthday.

A/N: leaving my teenage years behind. Today’s been super stressy, but I am happy to finally have time to post my birthday fic!!! Also happy birthday to my birthday twin, Severus Snape 🫶🏻

wordcount: 2,2k

celebrating him.

London. He has taken you to London. To your favourite restaurant to be exact, one that you have not visited ever since you moved to the wizarding world. Tom wasn’t the person to go to the muggle world, not if he didn’t have to at that. Too many bad memories have been made there, especially back in his orphanage days. So, for obvious reasons, you were surprised when he told you where you were headed to.

The clock strikes 9pm when he waves a waiter over and takes the courtesy to pay. Not that he would let you pay anyway, especially on your birthday, but you are still grateful. You feel people’s gaze on you as you both get up, your burgundy, crystal plated dress easily catching people’s attention as you stand out from the crowd on this seemingly so ordinary day. Ordinary for them, anyway.

Your eyes meet Tom’s, who is matching your attire with a black suit. The corner of his lips tugs up just the slightest bit at the attention you are receiving, and his arm wraps possessively around your waist. “Ready to leave?” he asks smoothly, and you nod, following him towards the exit.

However, he doesn’t take you back home like you had expected. No, instead, you are strolling through the city, finding your way through the crowd of people waiting to get home after another long Thursday. There are entire queues waiting for taxis, and suddenly you don’t miss your former, “normal” life in the slightest. London’s always been loud and busy, so when you received your letter for Hogwarts and got to know the most magical, hidden place in the Highlands of Scotland—you wish you could have lived there since your birth.

Being a muggle born isn’t easy. It’s come with its challenges, especially back in your first year at Hogwarts. It took time for you to find friends, to adjust to the change. And God, you missed your parents. Then, being exposed to all the hatred and bullying muggle borns had to endure definitely didn’t make it any better. Especially if you end up falling for your tormentor.

Being in love with Tom Riddle as a muggle born isn’t easy. But you two had somehow—after years of bickering and rivalry—made it work. It wasn’t until your seventh year that you got closer and essentially ended up being a couple. And no, you couldn’t believe it either. Not in your wildest dreams would you have thought the day would come that your strongest feeling for Tom would be love.

It’s always been hate, after all.

It was subtle at first, from stealing glances in classes to blatantly staring at each other, to—well. Him cornering you when you exited the girl's lavatory, whispering a soft “What are you doing to me?” as he leaned in. And before you could react, his lips were on yours, capturing you in a heartfelt kiss, pouring his feelings into it like he had to prove they really existed—firstly to you, but himself as well. Even when, in the end, of course you did love him too.

Tom’s love often is rough, distant. But you make it work, and when he does soften up—it’s like a plant sipping its first drop of water after an agonizingly long drought. You relish in it, your dynamics making you a perfect match for each other. And just like that, the boy you once hated with every cell in your body turned into your lover you wouldn’t even think about letting go.

That’s how you ended up spending your 20th birthday in London. Away from the wizarding world for once, back in your home city. You almost couldn’t believe when he apparated you both to the restaurant your parents used to take you to for birthdays. Tom Riddle, organizing a birthday dinner in the muggle world. A subtle smile brightens up your face at the thought. He leads you through the crowd, arms still around your waist. It’s not until he stops that you realize where you are headed.

One of the finest hotels in all of London, if you may. And he doesn’t just stop in front of it, no, you enter. Tom doesn’t respond when you ask him what you are doing here, instead withdraws a card from his pocket and leads you up the marble stairs. The setting feels special, too special to be true. It’s silent besides the clicking of your heels as you ascend the stairs, a chandelier dimly illuminating the hallway. There is no one around, no receptionist, no other guests. It seems as though you two are there alone, the property reserved for solely you two.

It’s not long until you arrive at door 464. As soon as he opens it, a smell of roses and lit candles floods your senses. The room, kept in an elegant vintage style, is illuminated by candles, the high ceilings decorated with baroque carvings. With you trying to take in the magic of the room, you don’t realize Tom stepping further into the room. Only when you hear muffled voices, followed by soft strains of classical music, your eyes flicker to where he is standing—adjusting a modern radio.

“Tom Riddle using a muggle device? This might be my best birthday present yet.” you snicker, walking towards the brunette. It’s then when he turns around, his deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“First and last time.” he answers, his voice low as his hands settle on your waist. Leaning in, he places a soft kiss on your lips. Without another word, Tom’s left hand intertwines with your right, the subtle notes of a violin and a piano resonating through the room as he guides you into a slow dance.

You can’t help but wonder how he’d learned to do that. At the two yule balls you experienced, he had never asked anyone for a dance. As you sway to the gentle tones, a memory plays in your head, taking you back four years to your 5th year at Hogwarts.

Being asked for a dance by one of the most popular boys in Gryffindor had its perks—you had been the center of attention the entire evening. Many people asked you for a dance, complimenting your looks as they took in your sapphire blue dress, adorned with tiny crystals.

In a brief moment of solitude, your eyes swayed around the hall, just for you to lock eyes with Tom. Merely a split second later, he averted his gaze, though the intensity of his eyes on yours lingered—and for the rest of the night, no one else asked you to dance again.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks you, and you are forced out of your thoughts, returning to the present. The dim candlelight casts a shadow on his sharp features, and you once again get lost in his eyes.

“Was it you? Back then, at the ball?” you murmur, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips at the question, and it’s almost as if you could see the memory replaying in his eyes.

“Nobody touches what is mine, darling.” Tom replies, and there is this familiar possessiveness in his voice, the one that you have grown to love. Another kiss later and he is tugging at your zipper as he leans in, his hot breath on the tender skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me take care of you now, just like you deserve.”

You don’t complain as he is leading you towards the bed, dress long discarded on the floor. Tom’s hand wanders, slipping under the waistband of your lace underwear as he settles down beside you. Finding your swollen bundle of nerves, the pad of his thumb rubs tight circles on it, having you take a sharp inhale at the sensation.

His other hand frees your breasts, pushing the dainty material of your bra to the side. His eyes wander up and down your almost entirely exposed form, muttering praises under his breath before he lowers his head to trail gentle kisses from your collarbone to your breast, gently wrapping his lips around the hardened peak.

“Oh— oh Merlin, Tom—“

His tongue flicks over the sensitive skin, drawing small whimpers and moans from you as your fingers thread through his silky brunette hair. You tug on it slightly, massaging his scalp as he continues his ministrations, nibbling and kissing your skin.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, firmly clenching around the fabric as two of his digits slip inside of your tight heat. “So wet for me,” he groans lowly, moving at an agonizingly slow pace as the heel of his hand rubs on your clit with every thrust of his hand. The sensations he is providing you with, fingertips massaging the one spot inside of you that has you grow dizzy with pleasure, the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter, and you are just there on the edge when—

“No, no please! I want to— want you to—“ you gasp, hand closing around his wrist, attempting to still his movements. His dark eyes lock with yours then, and he stops. “Use your words, sweetheart. What is it that you want?”

“Want you inside of me, please.” you murmur, and his lips curl into a knowing smirk at your words, shaking his head just slightly. He withdraws his fingers then, a small whimper falling over your lips at the loss. It doesn’t take long until he has undressed himself, parting your thighs before he positions himself between them, hovering over you.

“I really wanted to be nice to you today, darling.” he remarks, though his tip nudging at your entrance has all sane thoughts leave your mind at an instant.

“Merlin— you know I don’t want you to be. Please don’t be nice.”

Tom’s hand snakes around your throat at your response, mumbling something inaudible under his breath as he presses down on the sides of your throat, slowly splitting you apart on his hard length as you both groan. “This better? Want to be fucked like a whore even on your birthday?”

All you manage is a nod before he buries himself inside of you completely, not letting you adjust before he sets a harsh rhythm, his eyes darting down to his cock disappearing in your heat. Tom’s lips part slightly at the sight, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat.

The classical music playing in the background is a stark contrast to how he is fucking you, hips snapping into yours from an angle that has you see stars, your nails digging into his toned shoulders, sure to leave behind crescent marks.

“So— good!” you cry out, hands holding onto his biceps as he thrusts into you from above, the sound of your combined moans echoing around the hotel room. It’s not long until your pleasure is building again, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his tip brushes against your sensitive cervix.

“Eyes on me, darling. Let me see how good I am making you feel. Let me see you come,” he demands, hand squeezing down tighter on your throat. You do as he says, eyes fluttering open just for you to meet his stern expression, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his brunette curls stick to his damp forehead. His gaze burns into yours, the limited blood flow making you feel just slightly lightheaded, intensifying the feeling of his length slipping in and out of your sensitive walls.

You’re right at the edge, your cunt greedily clenching down on his thick cock. Tom seems to notice, his free hand reaching between you two, softly swiping over your needy clit with the pad of his thumb. “Tom— please!” you cry out, and he lowers his head, resting it in the crook of your neck. “Go on. Come for me,” he groans, and that is all you need to finally tumble over the edge, the intense feeling in your lower stomach leaving you a trembling and whimpering mess beneath him. Tom follows soon after, emptying himself deep inside of your warm, welcoming walls with a low grunt.

He collapses on top of you to catch his breath, though soon after pulling out of you, getting up to fetch a warm, damp towel to clean you up. It’s not long until he scoops you up in his arms, entering the bathroom where an already filled bathtub awaits you, lowering your spent body into the pleasantly warm water. He soon gets in as well, massaging circles into your shoulders as your head rests on his chest. It’s mostly quiet between you two, savouring the moment of intimacy you only rarely get to experience with him.

Before you drift off to sleep, he places a tender kiss on your head.

“Happy Birthday, love.”

[lucygraysboy]

“it’s a wonder how they do it, right? i mean, they don’t even speak our language and somehow they just know if you’re a good or bad person, and what your intentions are. do you think they can read it off of our body language? or what’s happening in their heads?” thinking out loud, pale blue eyes fixated on the back of her head as his hand continues to travel across her back. over her shoulder, along the bumps at the nape of her neck, inching closer and closer to her other arm. olive skin covered in suds. “mhm,” he hums softly, praying she doesn’t turn around. he doesn’t want her to see him blushing like a schoolboy. “when i first walked in here, i thought that you’d ran away, but then i saw reva blue and began to wonder why you’d ever want to leave her behind… and started to question my own sanity, asked myself if you were real or a figment of my imagination,” he admits, chuckling sheepishly because it’s embarrassing to a certain degree. “i will never cause you any harm, lucy gray. i just need you to know that, okay?” even if she won’t instantly put all her trust in him. “and if ever want to go your separate way, i won’t go after you unless you want me to.” he’s not his brother. “and your favorite dessert is blueberry pie.” noted, he remembers. but he still leaves enough room for her to correct him if he’s wrong. “but not all desserts make you happy? that doesn’t make sense,” he playfully argues, just trying to provoke her to convince him otherwise. “horses.” what an easy question, he thinks. “i love and respect all animals.” even the squirrel that became their dinner as hard to believe as it may be. “birds and dogs and cats and cows and butterflies, but horses are just so special. my mother’s friend, back at the capitol, had stables bigger than whole neighborhoods in district twelve. plenty of stunning thoroughbreds. most of them had probably been imported from district eleven or something. anyway, there was this one chestnut mare that i really admired, could watch her for hours. she could run so fast…” eyes alight at the memory, but then he realizes that he’s been rambling for a long time and must be boring her to death. “sorry, got a little carried away. um, what’s yours?” he inquires, meaning her favorite animal. too bad there are no horses in district thirteen. it’s been so long since the last time he was near one… “thanks for trustin’ me enough.” to show him the wound on her leg. thank god he had that jar of iodine with him. “and how will that be your fault? don’t blame yourself for things that happened because other people put you in a certain position. what were you supposed to do? grab a brush on your way out? you had more important matters to worry about. it’s really not your fault, lucy gray. it’s not like you’re a slob by nature and let this happen out of laziness. you’ve been through a lot. it’s only natural,” he softly corrects, reaching around her petite frame and handing her the soapy washcloth so that she can scrub her legs and torso. calloused fingertips sinking beneath the surface, getting wet before gathering her long hair with nothing but affection. “we won’t be cuttin’ it to your ears. if we can’t get all the tangles out, we’ll braid it and… well, maybe my mother,” the one who’s most likely sick with worry back in thirteen, “will find a way to help us.” but right now, he’ll focus on combing through these pretty locks with his fingers, careful not to pull too hard.

“i think they can definitely tell, who’s a good person and who’s tryin’ to bring harm. animal’s are intuitive like that.” lucy gray reassures, smiling softly as her arm stays around her bent knees, her free arm tracing circles in the water. “oh…yeah?” brow lifting, looking over her shoulder at him before eyes glance back towards the water. shying up momentarily again. “of course not.” leave him as a single parent. a twitch of amusement pulling at her lips before softening at the thought, thinking how she can’t run. but even it she could, would she? not… exactly. not when she doesn’t have a gnawing fear in her chest yet towards him. just like the animals they speak of… if she doesn’t have a reason or sense a reason, she won’t leave. just like deer and birds, she too has those same instincts. “sort of. i mean, i can choose a favorite dessert. i can choose a favorite month. but i can’t choose a favorite color, animal or flower. all flowers, colors and animals make me happy. hard to choose just one.” a soft laugh emits, gently shrugging her thin shoulders. “what’s your favorite animal?” questioning before hearing the awful story of the man he knew and before too long her face is contorting into disgust and stomach churning, vomit reflexes on the rise when he starts saying thing about smells. “lord, then, i sure am lucky you found me in time. i might’ve suffered the same thing. that’s sickenin’, bless his poor soul havin’ to suffer all through that.” feeling sympathy and disgust, quickly trying to think of something else. she definitely doesn’t want to suffer like that and scared up to keep watching her wounds. “i hope not, i really like my hair. but then again… that’ll be my fault, maybe i’ll learn.” scolding herself— to at least brush her fingers through it and keep it from getting so matted. “it’d be devastatin’ cutting it off to my ears.” that gives her the notion to quickly start trying with her fingers to start pulling some knots out, feeling a little panicky on needing the answer if she’ll get to spare it or not. the rubs on her back feel so pleasant, too. the most soothing feeling she’s felt in awhile but she can’t exactly relax with her hair on the line.

[windblume-wishes]

Obey Me Brothers - The Period Pain Simulator (HCs)

AFAB MC in this story!

TW: Mentions of periods, blood, and period pain.

𝕃𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖…

You decided to order a period pain simulator after seeing trends online of men giving them a try and suffering. As being the only AFAB individual in a house full of testosterone it only makes sense to see if it too works on demon men- after all, a man is a man regardless of species, right? Surely seven demons could withstand a mere period pain simulator…. Right….?

Lucifer

He knows about periods, yes, Lilith herself did go through them- however, as far as he was aware, they were not as excruciating. She just was a moody muffin who became overly blunt and would be extremely hungry. Yes, she did want to throw hands at times but he shrugged it off for the most part.

Yes female angels have periods too, he has been witness to some rather brutal ones where the female angels just get insanely emotional or start wanting heads to roll. Demon females too, he’s seen plenty at the local grocery store go bonkers over snacks and the hygiene products.

He had no idea exactly how painful these could get, oh boy would he find out.

Was hesitant at first, after all, you seem to be in agony during your monthly visitor but he decides to give this a go just to see how you truly feel. He’s seen plenty of females, angel, human or demon, go through them and each have their own unique emotional range and pains.

What can possibly go wrong? It’s just a silly human device that is made to simulate period pain. How could this ever hurt the great Lucifer himself?

How bad can it REALLY be? Sir, prepare to feel some agony.

“Is this even on? Hmph, this is easier than I thought.”

Sir, that is because it’s only at setting 1, be ready for worse.

Immediately eats his words the second you crank it up to about three, he refuses to admit it hurts and simply says he’s a demon, this is nothing.

Crank it up to about five and he is already sweating, he still refuses to throw in the towel and admit defeat. He must hold out for as long as possible.

“Y/N… you really feel this?! Every month?!”

“Yes, but imagine more pain and blood gushing out of your southern hemisphere- oh and tender breasts, followed by a fever, bloating, nausea, and insane cravings.”

“Remind me to curse Father out more for this- ahem- design flaw…”

You crank it up to seven and he caves. He is done. He has unshed tears in his eyes and is on the bed writhing in agony.

“Honey, want to try levels nine and ten? That’s how it usually feels for me on the first two days.”

He literally looks you in the eyes and says he will never do that again, however… he just discovered an interesting punishment device in this thing.

I feel bad for the sorry chap who has to suffer the simulator by the hands of Lucifer himself.

After experiencing the period pain simulation he will go even more above and beyond for you during your period.

He runs to the store faster than Mammon when he hears the word “money” to buy you snacks, pads, and anything really.

“You know, level 10 is the equivalent to early labor pains.”

Oh absolutely not, nope, and he thought level 6 was labor pain.

You are hereby exempt from taking classes in-person while on your period. You will become an online student those days and you will be required to relax and take it easy.

If his grudge for his Father wasn’t already big enough that grudge just skyrocketed so high it’s practically a missile to the Celestial Realm.

Mammon

He’s mildly familiar with periods, despite having a little sister he’s still an idiot as to how biology works in that sense.

He has an F (32.60%) in biology currently

He understands the b*tchy attitude and the craving part but the blood part…? Not really. Tell him about bleeding for a week straight and watch this man dial 666 (Devildom’s 911) for immediate assistance in getting his human to the hospital because of Father above you are obviously dy*ng and you need help.

The minute you tell him about this simulator and how it’s supposedly painful and can simulate a period he gets curious and thinks this is a great way to show he’s manly enough for you.

Mammon, you will suffer worse than any of the punishment Lucifer has put you through.

“Can’t hurt worse than any kick to the balls! Ha! This is simple! I’m the GREAT Mammon, I got this!”

Mammon, sweetie, a kick to the balls is nothing to this. It’s scientifically proven that period pains are equally as painful as a heart attack.

He whimpers as the simulator is strapped on

“Y-yo what gives?! It hurts!”

“Mammon, it’s not even on…”

You turn the dial onto the lowest setting, one, so far Mammon is holding strong, nothing too serious.

“Just feels like I gotta fart- like, not a big one but a good sized one.”

Turn it up to about three and he is already clutching his gut and whimpering.

“O-ok! N-now I feel like I gotta sh*t! But there ain’t any sh*t to sh*t! Y/N THE HELL IS THIS?!”

You crank it up to about six and he gives up. He is on the ground crying like a baby.

He swears that Lucifer gives less painful punishments than THIS.

“TURN IT OFF!! YO Y/N TURN IT OFF!! THIS IS WORSE THAN ANYTHIN’!! GETTIN’ KICKED IN THE NUTS IS NOTHIN’ TO THIS!!”

He will also swear that getting “the cut” was less painful than this simulator and will wholeheartedly d*e on that hill.

“This is like… my third lightest day in terms of flow, so yeah- this is painful but just uncomfortable.”

“TF YOU MEAN JUST UNCOMFORTABLE?!”

Man is ready to throw hands with your uterus and demand it stops hurting you.

Mammon feels even worse knowing he picked on his little sister when she was on her period and vows to never anger a lady on her monthly ever again.

“I-is it true ya don’t get this when yer pregnant…? If so, uh….”

Leviathan

He’s heard of periods of course, mainly from anime and manga. He knew of them a bit back when Lilith was around but never really thought much of it.

He is legit scared of them though because Lilith would bite and would get extremely moody on hers and he only ever was aware of the emotional aspect of periods.

Little girl chased him into his room and became very chihuahua like when on her monthly.

He thought the blood part was something only in anime and manga but…. Shh, Y/N, let him figure that out himself.

He’s familiar with the trend, he spends his time scrolling through FabSnap for trends or other things.

“LMAO what normie stuff! Putting themselves through pain from some measly human machine ROTFL!”

“Levi, that measly human machine hurts worse than getting kicked in the balls and is as painful as a literal heart attack.”

“Y/N, PLZ, that’s gotta be some normie rumor and they’re acting in front of the camera- that thing is so small that it totally can’t do something like THAT! LOOOOOOOLLL!! So yeah, my balls are fine, I’m fine, and I’m NOT gonna look like a normie whining on the floor!”

He lifts his shirt and puts the stickers on where they belong he sits in his beanbag chair and waits for whatever you have to throw at him.

How bad can this normie thing be?

He feels a small ounce of discomfort when it’s at one, just brushes it off and is slightly unfazed.

“Just feels like I ate something weird- lmao like that really awful Ruri-Chan collab I went to in-”

To shut him up you crank it to three.

“Ooofff! W-why does it feel like I really gotta sh*t? Is that all a period is? Feeling like you gotta run to the bathroom all the time?!”

Oh Levi, if only you REALLY knew….

You crank the simulator up to six and he screams like a baby, his scream is so high pitched it may have almost broke Henry’s fish tank….

You crank up one more level and oh goodness is he screaming even louder.

“TURN IT OFF!! TURN THE DAMN THING OFF OMG!! THIS HURTS!! OMG THIS HURTS!!!”

“That’s like- my second or third heaviest day, give or take. Sometimes it feels worse. That’s still doable but hurts.”

He will legit look at you with the face of ‘what the absolute f*ck’ while crying.

Like Mammon, will wholeheartedly d*e on the hill of “the cut” hurting less than this simulator- hell, that was wimp level compared to a period pain! Level uno!

Totally the tutorial for the game called pain.

Leviathan will want to throw hands with your uterus and will feel immense guilt realizing how he didn’t do enough for Lilith when she was still around.

“I-if anime has taught me anything t-then I um… t-then I’m gonna treat you m-much better, y/n…! W-wanna watch some anime now…?”

Please give him hugs after that simulator! He needs that desperately!

Satan

Oh he knows, he’s very well aware of how periods are painful, sometimes even more painful depending on the person.

Satan has heard of the simulator and is aware it’s supposed to be excruciating for men, however, that will probably not have any effect on him- he’s a demon. Demon males are stronger than human males-

What? Lucifer was in agony?! Lucifer caved from a mere period pain simulator?! Mammon and Levi too?! Challenge accepted.

You’ve never seen this man rip his shirt off so fast and strap on the simulator in your life. He was eager to prove he is stronger than that stupid Lucifer.

Level one? Really? Is that thing even on? This is NOTHING!

“This is easy, nothing, if this is what a period truly feels like then it’s not too unbearable. Perhaps the books were wrong.”

He eats those words immediately when you crank the simulator up to four.

“O-okay, this is uncomfortable. I feel like I seriously have to run to the men’s room… there’s nothing to release yet it feels like I have food poisoning… hhhnnnggg!!!”

You crank it up to six and he is in tears and gritting his teeth. Agony is setting in and he is digging his nails into his pillow.

“MOTHER F——”

A lot of swearing, not just modern swears, oh no, he will let out swears from the first ever civilizations and ancient peoples. If there was ever a swear word dictionary you best believe this man would have written it.

“SON OF A MOTHER [insert any swears you so wish here]”

Ok, please get one of those TV censored buttons in here. The bleep button will be going nonstop at this point…

“HOW THE [censored] CAN YOU [censored] EVEN [censored] TAKE THIS?!”

If you could tally every swear this man has said you may have filled an entire notepad by now and then some…

Please see your nearest Purgatory Hall for an angel’s blessing to your ears once this has concluded, thank you!

At seven he is still trying his absolute hardest not to break, he absolutely has to beat Lucifer, he needs to be better than him! He refuses to fail!

Please insert any swears from the 14th century here please and thank you! :3

You crank it up to eight and that is it, he is immediately caving, he yells in absolute agony into his pillow. He is sweaty and in tears.

“W-what the absolute f*ck was that?! That… the books never said it would hurt that terribly! How are you even alive, Y/N?! If it’s truly as painful as a heart attack you seriously need to take the week off!”

“Hm? A week off? Well, about that, we usually just suffer silently as we go about our days. Chocolate is a game changer truly.”

His jaw drops, he cannot begin to comprehend how the hell you are even able to walk after going through such a painful experience. Let alone how it even feels to have a full crimson waterfall for 24 hours seven days a week or less depending on the person.

“Oh and I’m also moody, nauseous, bloated, crave weird things and purposely read sad books or watch crime shows. In the mornings for some people it can mimic that of morning sickness and really make it unbearable. Fevers included.”

Watch this man begin to go through all his books to find ways to curse your uterus into never harming you again.

“Y/N…? Did I beat Lucifer? What level did he cave at?!”

You tell him he caved at seven and this man’s ego has skyrocketed. He is the most cocky man in the Devildom.

Congratulations, Y/N, you just literally made this man so full of himself he will probably not go back to normal for at least another 666 years at the least….

Asmodeus

Oh hon, he KNOWS about periods, he knows all the dirty details that come with it and literally everything about them. It’s kinda his thing.

Oh you didn’t know he tracks your cycle too? Oh hon, PLEASE, this man knows what’s up! Did you honestly think he did not know how to track these things? He helped his own little sister track hers and understand how to track them.

He’s heard of this trend going around and he can’t help but feel bad for every AFAB person who suffers period pains for real and without a simulation machine.

“Hon, you want me to try this out? Alright then~ a little pain can be fun you know~” *insert little winks and smirk*

Asmo, no, not THAT kind of pain…. *sigh*

Please don’t bonk him, he will make that hornkee jail worthy too…

He gets into some cute and comfy shorts from Victoria’s Secret and takes off his shirt. He makes sure to get on his bed so he feels at least some comfort.

Asmo is actually legitimately scared, he knows they are painful, he has seen you in agony and understands that there is undoubtedly pain in the package, he just does not know how much pain.

Can it be worse than the pain of getting his jewels busted? Definitely. Is it as painful as a heart attack? Science says yes.

He straps the stickers to his lower abdomen and braces for what happens next, he gets even more prepared by putting a pink fluffy headband on to pull his hair back in case he starts sweating… eew! Hon, no, sweat is totes gross and he cannot sweat and ruin his hair!

You turn it on and he winces, it’s not too painful, just uncomfortable. He understands this will only get worse and oh Diavolo is he bracing for impact.

“Y/N, hon, would you be a dear and hold my hand~?”

You comply hold his hand, he’s already squeezing it a little but not too tightly.

You crank it up to three and he is already wincing more and doing breathing exercises like he is a woman in labor. Admittedly, it is rather entertaining to witness…

“Oh goodness, hon, this… HHHNNNGGGGG…!!!! Oh this is certainly getting uncomfortable…”

You crank the device up to about five and he squeezes your hand tightly and lets out some swears. Sweat drips from his brow and he legit looks like he is a woman giving birth.

“Y/N, OH MY GOSH- OH F—! HHHHNNNGGGGG!!!! IT HURTS SO MUCH AND NOT THE FUN KINDA PAIN!!”

“You can do this, Asmo! You made it to level five and that’s incredible!”

“SHUSH!! OH DIAVOLO IT FEELS LIKE ITS AT TEN! AAAHHHH!!”

However….. RIP your hand and your ears as this man screams. A LOT.

The device goes to seven and he squeezes your hand even harder, honestly, you’re surprised it’s not broken.

“I FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO PUSH!! OH DIAVOLO THIS IS- AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!”

Push what? Nothing. Sir, you have nothing to push. You are definitely holding back your laughter as this is almost as good as the top Hollywood acting you see in films. Get this demon an award!

Breathing exercises continue and he continues to unintentionally look like he is having serious contractions and about to pop out a child- he’s not but… the simulator is doing a number on him for sure.

Don’t worry, he won’t spawn a random demon like a certain brother of his. Won’t mention any names… but… Lucifer…

You turn the device to about eight and that is it… he is done for.

His poor face is a mess with tears, some snot, and all red… give him a hug, a blanket, some chocolate, some skincare products, and a ton of kisses!!

“H-hon… how in the realms do you survive that agony?! How does anyone survive that?! Are we sure you didn’t strap a labor simulator on me?! Because if you hurt that much you are staying right here with me and I will make sure you feel incredible during your monthly visitor~”

“I feel all that along with the bloating, crimson waterfall of doom, the bizarre cravings, the mood swings, and the need to- ahem… fill in the blank…”

Say no more. This man is READY to go! Hon, you need only say the word and he is all set and ready to pounce!

“Before we do all that, hon, perhaps we can have a quick cuddle session~? I could use that after what you did to me~ and since you had your turn being in control…. Fufu~ you’ll be on the receiving end when we have our fun, love~”

Hello? 666 (Devildom’s 911)? Yes, I’d like to call an ambulance for Y/N when Asmo has finished his… yeah… Y/N may need a wheelchair…

Beelzebub

Oh? Periods? Like in Writing Class…..? No, Beel, sweetie… like the week of blood and agony.

He knows about them a little bit, he understands that there’s a super painful time for AFAB people but never knew it meant blood.

Beel remembers Lilith being very moody and hungry when she was on hers, he remembered how mad she would get if anyone touched her sweets.

He may have almost suffered a broken nose because she was really upset he ate her chocolate cupcakes and now understands that you need sugar to feel better.

Is it medicine…? Sort of, Beel, sort of like medicine, sweetie.

You have to hold his hand and explain the whole process and why it happens, he does get a bit confused but now understands why you smelled like iron those times- he just thought you are a big juicy steak and got all the juices on you somewhere.

“So you bleed for a week or a few days…? And you don’t… you know…. Go…?”

“Yes, for a a few days to a week, no biggie, it’s all part of the process. See? I’m alive, don’t look so scared, Beeley Bear!”

Give him some head pats and make sure he knows you won’t be d*ing anytime soon because of a period.

After promising to take him to a buffet for lunch he agrees to try the simulator, it truly did not take much convincing as he truly wanted to understand and also…. Food.

Beel will take off his shirt and get comfortable in a pair of workout shorts before putting the pads on his lower abdomen.

He is actually very nervous, while he can take pain and all he does actually get scared.

You switch it on to level one and he is confused, wheres the pain?

“Is this even on, Y/N…? Did I break it…? I’m sorry…”

“No you didn’t break it, Beel, this is just level one of ten.”

You crank it up to three and he is starting to feel something. Not much, but something.

“Feels like… hmm… feels like I may need to run to the little demons’ room but not too bad. Is this normal…?”

You nod and crank it up to about five and he has a hand over his belly wincing a little, he truly feels like he needs to run to he little demons’ room but knows there is nothing there.

“So all this is just the feeling of seriously needing to run to the little demons’ room…? So far so good I guess… just feels very uncomfortable. Like a tummy ache…”

“Yeah, it feels like that at times, I get it, but there is obviously more to it than feeling like you need to make a mad dash to the nearest available ‘little demons’ room’ as you put it.”

Crank it up to eight and he is legit starting to feel the pain.

“Y-Y/N… Y/N this r-really hurts now…. feels like when I ate a can of expired tomatoes from 400AD….”

Y/N, you made Beel start to cry, I truly hope you feel terrible now… he has tears in his eyes and is whimpering like a puppy.

You immediately turn it off because quite frankly seeing Beel upset was what truly did it for you.

“I’m sorry for eating your snacks during that time of the month, Y/N, for now on, you can have my custard and as many of my snacks as you want. Oh, and if you wanna go to a restaurant for lunch or something let me know! You’ll get anything!”

Beel is literally the sweetest guy ever, he will literally make sure that you get everything and more during that time of the month because you deserve it.

Belphegor

He knows a bit, not much but definitely enough, he understands that hormones play a huge part and make you an emotional mess, he also understands that there’s blood involved and that there’s weird cravings but the rest? Fill in the blanks.

He remembers Lilith being extra clingy with him when she was on her period, yes she would threaten to bite if he so much as moved the wrong way when she would hop into his bed at night.

One time Belphie made the stupid mistake of saying Lilith looked like she was ran over by a stampede one morning when she had a rude awakening with the crimson flow of doom and got slapped for it.

Like Lilith, you seem to have inherited the same attitude along with a plethora of others… lovely.

“So that’s why you’re always extra b*tchy- hormones and pain, huh? I get it, I’d be just as b*tchy if I were in your shoes- oh I can be in your shoes…?”

Belphie is a bit confused at first at what you mean, he first thought you meant a trip to Solomon to make a potion that would give him the sensation of a period but apparently not.

Oh thank goodness, gives him an excuse not to get out of bed and to remain in his pyjamas and cuddle you and his favourite pillow.

“So is it supposed to hurt or anything? If so this is weak as f—k.”

“Belphie, it’s not even on.”

“Oh… then turn it on before I consider forfeiting and taking a nap, nap time is about now- O-oh…”

Turning it on shuts him up immediately and he sits there a bit confused.

He looks mildly uncomfortable, still a bit confused as to why it’s not that bad- after all, you make it sound as if your insides are literally becoming outsides.

“That’s it? Y/N, not gonna lie, this is boring. I thought this was supposed to be painful.”

Turn the dial up to about four and he’s wincing a bit.

“O-oh sh*t… Y-Y/N I really feel like I need to run to the little demons’ room…! Hhnngg….!”

“It feels like that, doesn’t it? That feeling lasts about two to three days for me depending on flow and length of period.”

He just glares at you as you turn it up to six, he is clutching his pillow and swears just as much as Satan… he also breaks out the 14th century swears along with the first ever swear words of early civilizations.

“SON OF A [censored]! THIS [censored] [censored] HURTS LIKE A [censored]!!

That’s cute, Y/N, you thought Satan was the swear word machine. No, it’s Belphie. This boy can swear! And this little sh*t can get away with it too because he’s the youngest…

“Want to cave in, sweetie?”

“F—K NO! I WANNA BEAT LUCIFER…!”

Turn the dial up to seven and he’s starts crying loudly, this honestly hurts too much for him and it is not pleasant in the slightest.

“TURN IT OFF DAMNIT!! TURN IT OFF…!!”

He has sweat pouring from his brow and tears streaming down his face and looks like a hot mess, you immediately take the stickers off his belly and give him a huge hug.

“Y-you go through that…? Every month or so…?”

“Yes, but of course there’s blood, mood swings, cravings, waking up nauseous sometimes with a small fever, and even being bloated. Sore breasts too on occasion.”

“How the absolute f—k are you even allowed to leave the house and go about life with all that?! No, you are gonna stay with me and cuddle. No way you should have to go through that.”

Belphie will literally buy you any and all products you need from Akuzon while you cuddle because there is no way you should be made to move- well unless you need a new pad or tampon or something or to go…. But food? He will ask his twin to be the delivery guy with snacks and drinks.

“What the f—k was Father thinking when he made this? I mean- I know why it happens and all but what the f—k was his overall logic?!”

Like Lucifer, has plans of giving Father the what for with this “design flaw”.

“New prank idea- make a potion to use on Lucifer than makes him feel this pain for a week straight!”

Belphie…. No….

Belphie yes 😈

———

- Windblume