#do you ever think about how this was one of the coldest days of the year and yet Robert was just strutting around shirtless?

[cleopatragirlie]

One of the best looks of all time, Bonzo was serving

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[agnessintheocean]

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" asked Wayne one day to Eddie, it's been a week since he took him in, just a small boy with big doe eyes, he had that sad kind of look that no child should ever have. At first Wayne couldn't imagine taking a kid into his home, but when little Eddie looked at him all, he thought was, he couldn't let anyone hurt that small boy. He already had a hard enough life for someone so young, so he found himself taking an immediate liking to him, not hesitating to give him a better life, at least as much as he could. It's been just a week and it felt like he's been his kid his whole life, he couldn't imagine not loving him. His innocent toothy grin, his curiosity about every little thing, his bright eyes that light up so much when he smiles. He was just a small, beautiful boy whose childish giggle could make a man with the coldest heart melt. That boy who was laying on his couch upside down next to him, watching a silly kids show the name he couldn't remember, that prompted the question that fell out of Wayne's mouth "And what do you want to be when you grow up kid?". Little Eddie's mouth turned into a pout as he looked up at the ceiling in thought. "Kind." he answered after a moment. Such a simple and innocent answer that had Wayne smile softly. He couldn't imagine Eddie be anything other than just a kind boy. Silence took over them, just the sound of the tv on. Wayne just put his hand over the small one of Eddie's and gave it a little squeeze, the boys mind already focused back on the kids TV show, the topic flew out of his mind. And Wayne left it at that, turning his eyes onto what Eddie's pointing at on the TV screen.

Years later it's Eddie, his now boyfriend Steve (if someone said that he would end up together with Steve he would laugh at them), Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle, the best friends he made along the harsh way, sitting around in circle, beers in hand and an empty bottle in the middle, playing truth or dare, which no one remembers how they got to playing it. Once the bottle pointed at Steve, Robin asked the obvious question "Truth or dare?". Steve thought for a second "Truth." he said knowing his best friend might come up with an over the top dare, he chose a safer option. Robin, quite tipsy at this point, after a moment of silence asked "If someone asked you what Eddie is like what would the first thing you think of be?". Steve didn't have to think for long before he said "Kind.". Eddie looked up at him in surprise, his mind suddenly going back to that night with Wayne when he asked that one question when he was just a small child. He got filled with that nostalgic feeling and all he could think of as he stared adoringly at his boyfriend, who had no idea how much that one word means to him, was "Hey uncle Wayne, i did it".

[decayedgloria]

sundress szn

ft. Capitano, Dottore, Columbina, and Arlecchino

Summer’s finally come, so you decide to wear something that fit the occasion- much to your lover’s excitement.

Tags: First 4 harbingers x afab!reader (minus Pierro and Pulcinella), nsfw under cut, established relationships, Capitano may be ooc bc we have nothing on this man lmao, mdni

Word count: ~2.2K, not proofread

Capitano

Capitano was ever the hard worker. If he wasn’t in his office at Zapolyarny Palace, then he was off fighting in the name of the Tsaritsa, far away from your home in Snezhnaya. Naturally, you miss him dearly- and clearly he had observed how you seem to linger around him more often when he’s around, or how much more clingy and desperate you’ve become in bed. Arranging for a short trip to Natlan, his home nation, you had hoped to reclaim the time you lost with your husband.

The climate in Natlan was drastically different from Snezhnaya. It was warm all year round, and this time it happened to be particularly hotter than any other season. You had packed clothes accordingly, though it was hard as weather like that never shows itself in the coldest nation in Teyvat. Though there was one piece you purchased that caught your attention, and you knew for sure your husband would absolutely love it on you.

Capitano sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for you to get ready. His hands found themselves fiddling with the hem of the loose linen shirt he donned, which appeared to be tight on his massive, defined body, though he did not mind. He was proud of his physique, even more so at the fact you seemed almost obsessed with his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Chuckling to himself, Capitano finds it hard to resist you, his little wife.

“Dear, are you ready? We have the whole day ahead of us.” Capitano called out. You shuffled around in the bathroom, putting on the final touches of your makeup and making sure everything is in place before you emerge. Immediately, his eyes were on you- more specifically, the garment that you had chosen to wear. It was a sundress, of course. It was sheer, but not so much that it didn’t cover anything. It was perfect for the hot weather, especially its length, or lack thereof. Barely reaching over your ass, in fact.

Somewhat shyly, you give a little twirl in front of your husband. “Do you think this outfit is okay? I wasn’t sure it was my size so…” He had foregone his mask for the day, which gave away to his surprised face, blushing and staring as if he was hungry.

“You look amazing, my dear.” As you turn back to face Capitano, you were suddenly greeted with your husband’s chest. Leaning down, he places his large hands on your hips, giving them a light squeeze that illicited a giggle from you. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your tantalizing scent and grinning as you pull him closer towards you. 

“Irresistible, in fact. I think this is just the right size for you.” His voice was low, almost muffled as he placed light kisses on your skin. You sigh, running your fingers through his long hair, traveling lower onto his chest and then feeling the familiar shape beginning to form in your husband’s pants. You almost laughed when Capitano groaned at your touch, who unconsciously moved closer to you to relieve himself some.

“I thought we had plans for today?” Your honeyed voice only added to his increasingly needy gestures. He couldn’t help but let his hands roam across your body, touching and squeezing at your curves through the dress. Your small stature, so soft against his, in a dress that accentuated everything he loved about you…

Well, he did say that you both had the whole day, so why not spare a few more hours together?

Dottore

As his lovely lab assistant and partner, Dottore decided to bring you along with him to an expedition in Sumeru to collect some sample for his latest research endeavor. At first, you were hesitant and a bit confused as to why he didn’t just send one of his clones or subordinates to go fetch it instead, but he had insisted that the sample was of ���utmost importance” and that only he would be able to verify its integrity, whatever that meant.

So that’s how you found yourself in the sweltering desert heat, sitting in a tent that barely blocked out the sun. Your sweat had drenched your clothing since the early morning, so a change of attire was in order. As you sift through your belongings, you groaned as you realized you’d only been packed clothes that the Fatui deemed “suitable” for Snezhnayan summers- that is, clothes that were still too thick to wear. 

You sigh as your eyes scan the room for another solution, stopping at the shopping bag you had left on your desk. The little free time you had before entering the desert was spent shopping around Port Ormos, in which you had purchased a dress you thought was cute. You weren’t expecting to wear it so soon, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice…

Dottore worked on his paperwork, writing his report in a different tent from your shared one. Engrossed in his research, he barely noticed your presence enter the tent, nor did he notice the dress that barely clung onto your body. He hummed in response to your greeting, hearing you shuffle around and do the tasks you were assigned. 

It just so happens that the moment Dottore looks up happens to be the same moment you bend over to pick up some books on the floor, much to his wide-eyed pleasure. Your behind was deliciously accentuated in the new garment you wore, barely peeking out of the dress. In a flash, Dottore’s focus was taken away from the papers in his hands and instead was aimed at you, his cute little lab assistant.

With not much noise he rose, making his way over to you in silence as you gather all the books in your hands. You hadn’t noticed your lover’s presence until you feel a firm grip on your hips, suddenly knocking you against Dottore’s familiar legs. You let out something in between a gasp and a sigh as you crane your neck to look at him, slightly embarrassed as you felt his growing erection rub your ass.

“Now, you know I’m a busy man, darling.” Dottore’s husky voice sent a shiver down your spine. “So what’s with the distraction?”

“Look, it’s how outside and this is the only thing I can wear-“ A moan escaped your throat as you felt a sharp smack land on the plush of your behind. He smirked, shushing you as he pressed you closer against him. His hands grew erratic as they clawed at your dress, almost ripping it apart while he touch any and every port of your soft skin.

“A punishment is in order, don’t you think?”

Columbina

You sighed as you walked through the Palace greenhouse, on what seemed like your tenth lap of the day. Columbina had promised to meet you there after meeting with the Tsaritsa, but it had been hours- surely, a meeting wouldn’t take that long would it? 

You gaze dejectedly at the lily flowers by your side, blooming in spite of the coolness outside. The greenhouse felt like summer all year round, allowing for plants like the one you had in your hands to bloom effortlessly every year. It was quite impressive, such a large structure protecting plants from all over Teyvat from Snezhnaya’s cold. 

Given that, it really wouldn’t make sense to wear your normal Fatui uniform here, so you opted for a dress that you hadn’t worn in ages, and clearly it showed: the dress was a little tighter on you than you had remembered, accounting for the muscles you had gained while training, and it certainly was too short to comfortably move in, but the humidity of the room left you little to no choice. 

Your mind was somewhere else when you feel a hand snake around your waist from behind, relaxing when you catch a glimpse of magenta strands from the corner of your eye. Columbina made herself comfortable holding you so, nuzzling into your neck. Her quiet, melodic hums filled the air as you turned to look at your lover, a smile blooming on your face.

“What took you so long, love?” You gently tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear, admiring her beauty. She chuckled, pleasant and light, before burying herself into you once more. 

“The meeting is still going,” she purred, her hands now barely grazing your hips and waist. You blush as you realize what she’s doing, glancing around to make sure there weren’t any idle soldiers or officers. “it was too dreadful. Sneaking out to see my lovely wife was much more important than some trivial talk of war tactics.” Oblivious to your growing panic, Columbina pulls you closer as she moves her lips against your own, smiling gently.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to turn passionate, with gentle pecks now turning into harsh smacks as your tongues worked against each other. With each kiss, your hands clawed at Columbina’s clothes, shredding off layers as her hands tug at your hair. 

Haphazardly, you both managed to find a nearby bench to continue your liaison on more comfortably. As you breathe heavily through your swollen lips, Columbina places herself over you, smiling as she dips down for a kiss one more time.

Arlecchino

Ever since Arlecchino was dispatched to Fontaine by the Tsaritsa, her mind was utterly consumed by you. Not that it normally wasn’t, thoughts of you always permeated her brain one way or another, but at least in Snezhnaya she was able to have you physically there to meet her demands- wether it was an affectionate cuddle or something more intimate, your presence was always just a call away.

However, ever since landing in Fontaine, Arlecchino’s thoughts only consisted of two things: the mission at hand, and you. How she missed the way you would saunter up to her, tease her in a way nobody else would dare, and how your legs would stay quiver and shake around her cheeks every time her tongue explored inside you-

Ah, she was getting carried away again. Arlecchino groaned internally at the paperwork that was placed in front of her, glaring as if it were an enemy. Well, in her mind, anything that kept you away from her was considered an enemy to an extent…

A knock on her office door snapped her out of her thoughts. Sighing, Arlecchino commanded them to come in, placing her chin on her palm, bored as ever. Her face must have conveyed some sort of annoyance as the poor fatui agent that came in visibly shivered a little, lowering their head as they said their greetings.

“What is it?”

“There’s a letter from Senzhnaya, my lady.” She did not miss the quiver in their voice, “It’s from Lady (Y/N).” As the agent reached out to give her the envelope, Arlecchino all but snatched it from their hands, all of her attention now devoted to the piece of paper in front of her.

“Leave.” Her voice left no room for reply, with the agent thankfully getting the hint and scurrying away. Once the heavy doors of her office closed, her ruby eyes inspected the envelope intently, taking in every detail that you may have left her. Just as quickly as she snatched the letter, she opened it, revealing its contents: a neatly folded letter, and what looked like a thin sheet wrapped with something.

She wasted no time in unfolding the letter, taking a note of the way the package smelled just like you- sweet, almost sickening. Her lips curled into a grin as she read the words that danced across the page, her heart leaping at all the praise and sweet nothings you seemed to litter across the paragraphs that you had written. How much you missed her, and yearned for her; all of it made Arlecchino’s head dizzy with pride and delight.

She was too absorbed in reading and rereading your letter that she had forgotten about the other item that you had delivered. Tilting her head, she gathered the thing in her hands gently, taking off the wrapping to reveal a picture taken with a camera- a picture of you, clad in what Arlecchino could only describe as barely a dress. A sheer fabric that did little to conceal your cleavage or your thighs as you pose, somewhat scantily, in a move she was sure was made in order to highlight your curves.

Arlecchino’s fingers subconsciously gripped the photo tighter, a shot of warmth suddenly coursing through her body. She sighed heavily, pink dusting her sheeks as she felt the familiar sensation of aching in between her legs. Tentatively, she took off her gloves and slowly travelled her fingers to the zipper of her pants, breathing growing ragged as she frantically tried to relieve whatever spell you had cast on her.

What a tease.

A/N: here it is! writing this lowkey killed me :,) but i really hope yall liked it. its not full on smut (i dont trust myself to write those with the harbingers just yet for fear of mischaracterization) but its what i can manage. really, im just testing out the waters.

can you guys tell i have a favorite? lol. itll have to be split into two parts since its long enough.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[klausysworld]

would you write an imagine about thr reader x klaus and how shes insecure about herself her looks her weight maybe thinking she wont ever been good enough for him but he decides to show her

(Trigger warning for body dysmorphia and hinted anorexia / eating disorders.)

Complicated

Klaus had met Y/N in his living room. She and Hayley were sat on the couch with an old chest board of Elijah's between them, both looking up at him with wide eyes like two children caught stealing sweets.

His eyes had narrowed briefly, he hadn't wanted any body to know about his unborn trial and he certainly didn't need a helpless human in his home complicating things and being in the way but Hayley made it clear that Y/N wasn't leaving.

"I need someone here, Y/N's not just a friend to me. We're family. I don't know about you but we stick together." She snapped at him when he had began complaining. For once, his trap shut and he let out a huff.

"Don't expect me to protect her." He grumbled before going back upstairs.

He had meant it at the time, he wasn't going to consider her wellbeing, her safety.

However, she wasn't as annoying as he had assumed her to be. She didn't get queasy at the sight of blood, whine when she saw a dead body or anything. It was almost like she wasn't there, always quiet and leaving a room when he entered to be out his way.

It made him curious.

Klaus would purposefully start putting the bread and eggs on the top cupboard so she could not quite reach in the mornings when she was making breakfast for herself and Hayley so that he may come in and reach over her, giving it into her hands and helping her make the eggs differently each day. He would tighten the lids on jars to have her shyly come ask if he could help. She didn't ever want to ask Hayley, whilst she was pregnant, to do anything and Klaus quickly learnt that.

It was nice, having her need him for little things. He liked hearing her soft voice calling for him from the doorway whilst he painted, a jar of sauce in her hands making him get up and not only open the lid but come down and help her cook.

He cooked with her every day, at least one meal. Even if it were helping spread the butter on some bread for a sandwich.

When Hayley had gone to see the witch doctor, Y/n had gone alongside her. They had both been running through the woods away form them.

Hayley had stubbled out to Klaus and Rebekah but Y/N didn't return through the same trees.

Klaus had caught Hayley's limp body, laying her across the back seats of his car before searching the forest and finding Y/N curled up and injured within a bush.

He had to pull her back out, grimacing as the sharp wood scratched her already bleeding skin. She trembled, tears on her cheeks but no sounds leaving her as he held her close and encouraged his blood down her throat.

The two girls were safely tucked back into their beds and Klaus made sure to check on them, Y/N more than Hayley which surprised Rebekah seeing as Hayley was carrying his child.

When Elijah returned, Hayley's attention shifted and Y/N kept to the side, starting to find more and more enjoyment in those times she got to see Klaus.

When Hayley was taken by Tyler, Y/N was left unconscious on the hallway floor. Klaus had healed her and left her home before he and Elijah went to retrieve Hayley. When he was accused of using his baby to create more hybrids, he came home alone and angry.

Y/N sat with him, both her hands holding his until he had cooled off and sighed. He had to leave again shortly, something about Marcel but she felt something off.

She was right. He had returned a few hours later covered in blood with ripped clothes. "We're moving, pack your things." He had muttered, shoving past her up the stairs, as if she were nothing. It was the coldest he'd been to her since their first meeting.

He was distant to all of them for the first few months of him being 'king'.

Something new seemed to happen every day. Hayley had gotten to know the wolves, when hey'd turned human form and she found out she was actually betrothed to Jackson Kenner leaving her feelings with Elijah complicated despite Y/N's advice.

It was the same night that Genevieve had taken Klaus and Rebekah and revealed a buried secret of the past.

Y/N was chosen to nurse Klaus back to health and convince him not to murder his sister for her betrayal.

She sat beside him, his body weakly pressed against hers for support as he sucked her vervain laced blood from her wrist, both his hands holding onto her arm to keep her still so he wouldn't tear the skin. His eyes would glance up, taking in her slightly fearful, partly amazed expression at the interesting sensation. Her other hand rest gently on the back of his head, he could feel her fingers brush his scalp making his eyes heavy as he drank. Her taste filled him enough to give him the energy he needed. His mouth left her arm and he lifted his hands to cup her face, both palms against her cheeks. Her eyes were big, pupils expanding making his lips twitch as he pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you, my love." He muttered to her, his lip lowering to her neck. "But I'm sorry, for I must punish my dearest sister and I cannot have you follow me." He apologised before sinking his teeth into the flesh of her throat. The shock made her cry out but her sounds faded along with his vision as he drained her to the point of unconsciousness.

When she woke, Hayley was sat beside her, holding a syringe with a sniffling nose as their eyes met. "I'm so sorry, Elijah promised he wouldn't hurt you." She whispered, pulling Y/N close and hugging her tight. "You're healed now okay? It's gonna be fine."

Y/N wasn't so sure how to behave around Klaus. She wasn't scared of him or anything, just a little hurt. She had always done as he said in the past but he didn't even give her the option, he just made her do what he wanted.

After a little while she figured there was no point having a grudge, so she went to his room to forgive him properly and maybe talk. Nobody in that house ever seemed to knock before entering so the thought didn't even start to enter her mind.

Instead she opened the door, "Klaus?" she had called, taking a step inside before halting at the scarring sight of Genevieve on all fours with Klaus thrusting into her from behind. She left immediately, closing the door and rushing down the hall to her own room, locking the door and staring at the wood in front of her blankly.

It shouldn't have upset her so much, but it did. Y/N couldn't stop the stinging of her eyes and the tears that threatened to spill. Her sniffling nose. Her hands pulled at her shirt, her skin getting hot as her emotions quickly overwhelmed her.

Y/n stayed in her room for the rest of the evening. A few hours later a knock tapped at her door. "Y/N, love, come open the door." Klaus beckoned, it was the third time he'd tried. "Sweetheart, I can hear you. I know you're still awake, let me talk to you." klaus waited a moment in silence, a small sigh leaving his nose as he rest his forehead against the door. His fingers drummed lightly against the wooden frame and he slowly pulled away, ready to leave again but the soft thud made him stop.

The door opened and Y/N looked back at him. Her eyes were still a little pink, he could tell she'd been crying and it made him feel guilty. Klaus knew that Y/N felt something for him and he knew he reciprocated it. He knew he should have locked his bedroom door and he knew he should have chased after her the second she had seen what she saw.

He gently pushed the door open and stepped inside, his other hand finding the small of her back and leading her back over to her bed. Klaus sat down, waiting for her to sit beside him.

"I'm sorry" He told her and had Elijah heard those words leave his brothers mouth he may have passed out there and then. Y/N just glanced down.

"You don't have to be." She mumbled, holding back the need to sniff. "I should've knocked, I don't know why I didn't."

"I shouldn't have been in there in the first place, love. Not with her." His head shook almost solemnly, ashamed of himself for diminishing that spark she usually held in those beautiful eyes of hers whenever she looked at him. Her pupils didn't dilate the same and it made him ache inside.

His arms circled her, hugging her almost hesitantly before she leaned into him for some comfort even if he was the last person she could get it from under the circumstances.

At the faction party everything seemed to go wrong for Y/N.

It had started with her dress, she'd ordered it online in the same size she always wore but not even Hayley could help her get the zip up. It just didn't fit.

"Honestly, all companies use different size guides I swear!" Hayley scoffed, but one glance at Y/N's face made her swallow a lump. "It's the dress." She whispered, her hands taking it off Y/N. "It's not you." She reassured. "You can wear one of mine, any one you want." Hayley smiled but her heart was thumping. She couldn't let Y/N spiral again, not when she was finally healthy.

So they went through Hayley's wardrobe and chose a dress from there, Hayley doing it up and smiling. "See? Perfect, you're perfect." She told her, hands smoothing down her hair before Y/N stepped forward, face in Hayley's neck whilst Hayley's arms wrapped around her.

They headed downstairs and mingled a little before Hayley got swept away. Y/N spotted Klaus and started to head over, things had been better since he'd come to see her. She hadn't seen Genevieve again, until then.

Her hair shone beautifully beneath the dim light as her pale hand pressed against his clothed chest, her fingers toying with his tie playfully making him smirk back at her,

Y/N stopped in her stacks. She couldn't help but admire Genevieve for a moment, pick out every little thing about her that was better than Y/N. Y/N doubted Genevieve ever struggled to get into a dress.

When her eyes finally tore from the witch, she accidentally met Klaus's. His adams apple bobbed and he pushed the red-heads hand away.

Y/N turned quickly and hurried off, not giving him a chance to see which way she'd gone as he weaved his way through people to find her.

Hayley walked into Y/N both of them looked upset. Y/N softened first.

"What’s happened?" She asked, grabbing Hayley's hand and pulling her away from the crowd.

"Elijah, and Jackson. They're both so-"

"In love with you?" Y/N interjected and Hayley sighed.

"I don't even know. It's like they're trying to prove something." She mumbled and Y/N nodded in faint understanding. Her eyes flicked to the side, catching sight of Klaus approaching.

"We should go upstairs or something." Y/N muttered quietly and Hayley's brows furrowed, eyes glancing to find Klaus with a worried expression staring at Y/N whilst he got closer, moving around people.

"Guess we're both in sticky situations?" Hayley mused and Y/N shifted on her feet.

"Except two people want you and...I'm not sure anybody does me." Y/N uttered though Hayley's werewolf hearing let her hear as did Klaus's hybrid abilities. His stomach sank slightly and he finally got to her, his hands coming to her hips and pulling her back to his chest.

"I've been looking for you." He murmured against her hair, throwing a look to Hayley making her give Y/N's hand a soft squeeze before she left to face her own boy troubles. "You look absolutely gorgeous, you know that?" He smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek as he turned her to face him.

"It's Hayley's dress." She told him quietly and his head tilted a little.

"I didn't say anything about the dress-"

"You don't like it?" She questioned, it felt like a trap and Klaus blinked at her. His lips parted, unsure how to please her.

"I- I like you?" He stuttered, his face reddening in slight embarrassment.

"Is that a question?" She pressed, becoming more and more defensive. Klaus let out a breathless laugh.

"No." He answered, his confidence coming back as he took a breath and straightened his posture.

"You sure?" She jabbed and his eyes narrowed.

"You're being difficult." He murmured, lips pulling into his familiar smirk as he took her hand in his. "Almost had me, sweetheart but don't you worry, I've got you." Klaus assured both her and himself as he pulled her along with him, shoving past people and knocked Genevieve so that her drink spilled down her dress. Y/N's eyes widened at the action and she frowned.

"Klaus-"

"I don't care about her." He cut Y/N off, pulling her round and pushing her against the wall of the hallway.

She let out a breath of surprise when he pushed his lips against hers. Klaus wasn't expecting her to push him off, and she was gone again.

"Love-!" He yelled, speeding up to her room to catch her there. His arms taking her into a bear hug and pulling her inside.

"Shh- woa, easy sweetheart! It's okay, I'm letting go okay?" He slowly let her go, listening her her fast paced breathing with a small frown.

"You...you can't just do things like that." She borderline whimpered and Klaus softened, his hand petting her head gently.

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd enjoy it. I wanted to show you that I wanted you." He muttered, kissing the top of her head. "I'll give you more time next time, so you can pull away."

"You're too rough." Y/N whispered and he swallowed thickly. His hands stroked down her back and he lifted her, setting her down onto her bed and resting on top of her, kissing her cheek softly.

"Not always." He murmured, a shimmer of hurt in his gaze which he hid from her as he kept kissing down her skin, gently sucking the skin of her neck until her breathing was heavy. His hand glided over her stomach, it should've felt nice but it just made her aware.

Klaus couldn't see her without any thing on, he'd laugh at her. She wouldn't be anywhere near as perfect as someone like Genevieve.

He could feel her shift, her scent of arousal mixing with slight discomfort so he stopped, pulling her to his chest and leaning back against the headboard. They fell asleep there, interrupted the next morning when Hayley came in to see how Y/N was.

Nobody commented on the softness of Klaus's behaviour around Y/N, or the kisses he pressed to her cheeks whenever he saw her.

Hayley wasn't sure whether it was good or bad for Y/N. Sometimes she looked much happier, having Klaus's arms around her when they sat in the lounge. Other times, she could see how she'd stare at Klaus's arm around her midsection. Or when she'd start staring at other women, wondering if Klaus would prefer them.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Klaus but more that she wouldn't have blamed him if he wanted someone else.

Klaus could sort of sense the level if insecurity around them, it confused him sometimes how quickly she got uncomfortable and how she never quite seemed to get jealous but just sad.

He noticed she didn't want sex, despite her body showing signs of desire. However, as soon as he started to pull even her jacket off? She didn't want anything to do with him.

Once everything happened with Hope being born and taken away, Klaus got naturally distant from everyone. Y/N would come lay with him sometimes, just be there but Klaus was used to dealing with his problems through violence. He couldn't be soft and gentle and loving for her.

She left him alone, like he wanted.

Once things got a little better Klaus tried to make up for his absence. More parties were thrown.

Y/N thought it was a chance to be with him, dance and see Hope. But then there was the dress situation again.

She hated how tight bodices were, how her arms would stick out.

But she put it on and went down those stairs to find Klaus. He was dancing with Camille, the bartender. He looked happy.

Y/N glanced over to Hayley dancing with Jackson and sighed.

Without much more thought she went back upstairs to her room and got that stupid dress off. Having a full length mirror was a stupid idea, once glance in it with no clothes on and a meltdown was inevitable.

Klaus had felt immediately guilty when he saw her face, watching him with Cami. He knew it hurt, he'd just been going through so much lately that he wanted to dance. A ballroom dance was something he had learnt hundreds of years ago in a hundred different styles and it was able to transport him back to better times. Y/N hadn't come down yet and he needed to get his mind off of everything.

But she brought him back to reality.

He came up the stairs a while later, twisting the handle of her door to find it unlocked. Klaus stepped in, flicking the light switch on the wall and instantly frowning.

She wasn't in bed. His eyes shifted to the floor, looking at the scatter if glass from where the mirror had been destroyed. Her dress crumpled on the floor and all her other outfits in a pile outside her wardrobe.

Quietly, he left and went to his own room. She was beneath his covered, curled up asleep.

Klaus made his way over and gently pulled the blanket back to see her face but he could see her bare shoulder and his brows drew nearer. He pulled it back further and swallowed loudly, taking in her nude body for the first time. His eyes appreciated the view once before looking closer, paying attention to the visibility of her ribs beneath her breasts.

Gently the sheets covered her again and he laid on top, wrapping an arm over her body and nuzzling the back of her neck with a small kiss.

In the morning he woke to her small cries.

"Shhh...what's wrong?" He asked, voice rough with sleep as he pulled her closer. He cast his gaze down, seeing her now facing him, her chest against his. Klaus's hand felt her back through the sheet, giving no obvious reaction to the feel of her bones beneath the thin skin. His head dipped to kiss her lips, her eyes fluttering at the contact. He held her tight, his tongue gently pushing past her lips to taste her again.

A sound of surprise left him when her naked body left the covers, situating on top of him instead. One of his arms circled her waist encouraging her whilst his hand held her face.

Once their lips parted to pant for air, he could see the look in her eyes.

Gently he rolled them over, pushing her back onto the bed. He could see the shame colouring her features every time his eyes dared to drift down at her soft skin.

"You're beautiful." He whispered. "Forgive me for not reminding you as often as I should."

Her head nodded and he smiled faintly. His head lowered to litter kisses from her forehead to her chest. His tongue warming her nipples, encouraging them to harden in his mouth before he continued his decent.

Klaus paid attention to how she sucked her stomach in when he kissed her belly button. His hands held her waist.

"Stay here, sweetheart. Let me." He murmured, kissing every inch of skin he could. He praised her body until her heart could not stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks.

Klaus then kissed the tears away, his hands still caressing her skin, now at her thighs and soothing her cries.

"I can't have you feeling anything less than perfect." He whispered against her cheek. "You're mine, and I can't have you doubting it."

"It's just hard sometimes." She mumbled quietly, hiding her face in his neck.

"I know...but I do..love you and I don't want you to be so sad because of me."

"It's not you...it's me. I just can't feel comfortable in my own skin andI make it everyone else's problem-" She uttered and Klaus frowned.

"No, love." He pulled her fully onto his lap and tugged the blankets up to keep her warm enough. "You're not doing anything wrong, you're just feeling. I want to understand what you feel so I can be apart of this...journey with you."

"You sound like Hayley." She laughed and he smiled.

"We're both here for you, my love. Always-"

"And forever." She finished quietly and he nodded, kissing her head. Klaus recognised her as his family now and for all his faults he did love his family, they were everything to him. She was everything to him.

[darkbluekies]

jerry x idol reader (any gender but preferably fem reader)

reader is a super famous and beloved by many (including jerry) and this causes reader to have some stalkers (including jerry jajaja)

anyways jerry is walking home one day and sees someone getting kidnaped and was going to just leave and then *gasp* its her baby girl idol reader but oh nooo the person trying to kidnap reader had knocked them out so jerry saves the day (yippee!!) and help nurse them back to heath but oh no now that jerry has them why would she let them go??????

SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH also sorry if you have already done this

Starstruck

Female!mafia!yandere x fem!kpop!idol reader

Summary: Jerry gets to finally have her little kpop girl to herself and will never let her go

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of starvation, disordered eating, faking death, yandere, mafia, mentions of sexualisation, handcuffs, humiliation, self hate, loneliness, drugging

Word count: 4.2k

The earbuds are deep into her ears, blasting your groups new single. It must be her favorite comeback yet. You came back with a bright bubblegum concept for the spring, with the song being everything Jerry rejects. You’re the rapper, with the sweetest voice Jerry has ever heard. You’ve been called ‘siren voice’ on numerous fan accounts and in articles. She can’t help but grin ear to ear while fiddling with the phone. You’re her wallpaper, her profile picture on social media and her photocard in her phone case. She has been to your concerts, your fan meets, your birthday cafe’s and — thanks to her contacts — been able to find out where you stay for overseas promotions, your phone number, your siblings names and countless other things that Jerry loves to keep for herself. When she’s tired, she watches your variety shows and vlogs, often falling asleep to them when she feels lonely.

Everyone around her knows about her love for your group — and especially you — and no one dares to talk badly about it. Jerry, the gang’s coldest and rudest member is soft for a little kpop girl and they can’t help but let her have that. They even give her your merchandise on her birthday. 

You’re the same age but you couldn’t be more different. You are humble, sweet and full of charms … Jerry is a murderer, involved with a criminal gang and unpleasant. She has talked to you a couple of times during fan meets, but only for a minute at a time, and you’ve always been so nice to her. You’ve admired her tattoos and thanked her for gifts. You’ve held her hands and smiled at her. Not many people do that to Jerry. Most people give her disgusted looks and stay as far away from her as possible … but not you. You’re the best person Jerry has ever come across … and she’s just … Jerry. 

Unfortunately, she isn’t the only one that loves you. More people have figured out how wonderful you are and have started to follow you wherever you go. Jerry had believed that she was your only stalker, but was proven wrong when an article came out about a person breaking into your group’s dorm and scaring you and your members. The police caught him, but didn’t do anything about it. Jerry took things in her own hands and, together with a ‘friend’ of hers, killed him. She enjoyed the feeling of his blood on her hands and is certain to do it again. As long as you are safe, she will continue to kill for you. 

She’s next in line. Jerry can barely understand that she’s going to talk to you again. She has a small goodie bag in her shaking hands. Damn those hands, exposing her. She isn’t nervous when following enemies through dark alleyways, killing them ruthlessly … but she feels like she’s going to faint when talking to you. She doesn’t want to talk to your members, only you. But she doesn’t want you to think that she is rude, so she always manages some cold smalltalk. 

She talks with your members for a minute each before she finally reaches you. Oh God, you. Your pink hair makes you glow and your bright smile could melt Jerry’s ice cold heart. 

“Hi!” you gasp in surprise and wave at her, almost doing jazzhands. “I remember you!”

Jerry feels her heart stop. 

“D-Do you?” she asks and hits herself for stammering. 

She sits down in front of you. 

“It’s you with the tattoos!” you smile. 

“I wanted to give this to you”, Jerry says and puts the small goodie bag on the table. 

“Really? For me?” You pout. “You’re so nice. 

You open the bag and pulls out a little bag charm in the shape of a sun. You smile, touched at the sweet gesture, and meet Jerry’s eyes. 

“It’s so cute, thank you so much!” you say. “I love it, I will wear it all the time.”

You start to admire the little plush sun. Jerry stares at you with emotions she can’t explain. She feels guilty for looking at you, yet so very thankful. In her darkest moments, you have been there without even realizing, but she pities you that you have to be the one she’s obsessed with. You, who never wants anything to do with things Jerry does, and Jerry who involves you without you knowing. But Jerry is so happy that you exist, that you can give her a few moments of escape from her cruel and dark life.

You suddenly frown.

“Why are you crying?” you ask and hurry to take her hands. “Don’t cry.”

Jerry hurries to dry the tears she didn’t even notice that she was spilling.  Your soft hand comes up to wipe one of her tears.

“Don't cry, it's okay”, you smile. 

“Thank you”, Jerry whispers.

Fucking hell she doesn't deserve you.

She picks up her phone to see that you’ve posted a new selfie on Instagram. Your strawberry pink hair brightens up your face, making you even cuter than you already are. She presses the heart icon, but frowns. It’s near two am, you should sleep, not post gorgeous selfies on Instagram. The pic must have been taken earlier today, youre wesring the same clothes and hairstyle as you did during yhe fansign, but that gives you no reason to publish them now. If you could have waited until two am, you could have waited until the morning. But, nonetheless, Jerry smiles. It was as if you posted the picture specifically for her. She’s on her way home, walking the dark streets of Seoul all by herself. Maybe you knew that she needed a bit of cheering up?

Muffled screaming cuts through the headphones and Jerry glances up, seeing two men trying to pull a woman with them. The darkness hides their faces. Jerry decides to ignore them and take another way home, not wanting anything to do with other people’s business, but suddenly notices the familiar pink hair. She takes a few steps closer and freezes with realization that the pink haired lady about to get pulled into a black van is none other than her little kpop girl!

Jerry pulls up her gun from her belt and hurries over. She doesn’t want to shoot them in front of you, but she knows that it will be enough to scare them away. These men are just normal pathetic stalkers, not real criminals.

She wastes no time trying to talk or intimidate them. One of the men tries to attack her, but he isn’t prepared for Jerry’s many years of martial arts training. She's quicker, smaller, more precise. As soon as they're down, she grabs you by the arm and runs. You're crying as you run beside her. And suddenly, you fall.

 “Oh, shit!” Jerry gasps and hurries to catch you. “You can't faint here!”

She sinks down beside the building's wall with you in her arms, breathing heavily. Jerry has never seen you this close before and she can't stop staring. She knows that you are gorgeous, but you're unbelievable in reality. Jerry stands up and picks you up in her arms before starting to walk towards her apartment. She can't leave you alone in the middle of the street … and she most certainly won't give you back to your agency. They can't protect you like she can, she thinks, just watch what just happened and all the other times you've been close to harm. Jerry will make sure nothing ever happens to you again.

As soon as she comes into her apartment, she locks the door behind her and carries you to her bedroom, places you down into her bed, tucking you in. Jerry stares at you with wide eyes as she slowly backs away from the bed. You are in her bed …she never thought that this would happen … but here you are. Her little kpop girl.

Jerry scoffs with a smile and runs her hand through her black shoulder length hair. 

She fumbles for her phone and calls her boss.

“What is it, Jerry?” he asks before she has the time to say anything.

“You will never guess what just happened”, Jerry smiles. 

“What?”

“Let me turn on video chat …” she presses the little icon with shaking fingers and directs the camera towards your face. “Do you see that? Do you see who I have?”

Her boss breaks out into a smile.

“No fucking way you kidnapped her”, he chuckles. “You're unbelievable. Do you think she will fall in love with you? After you've kidnapped her?”

“I saved her, she will thank me.”

“I doubt that you will let her go.”

“Of course I won't. How am I going to be able to let her go back to her shit company? They don't even protect her properly and they mistreat her! Besides, I will save her from all of those creeps that she has as fans.”

“Are you really going to pull her into this world? How nice is that, hm?”

Jerry feels a spark ignite in her chest.

“Mind your own fucking business, will you?” she snarls. “I don't tell you how to deal with your private life.” With that said she hangs up.

Anger is still bubbling in her chest, but when she looks at you, it all disappears. She sighs sadly. I'm sorry, Y/N. I will make sure nothing happens to you. I promise.

She brings a chair to the bed and sits down on it, facing you to make sure that she can reassure you when you wake up, so that you don't have to be afraid. She has been knocked out and woken up in strange places multiple times and knows how terrifying that can be, especially if it's one’s first time.

She's awoken by someone poking her arm and hurries to sit up.

“Fuck, I fell asleep”, she mumbles.

She looks up and meets your terrified eyes. Your entire body is trembling.

“W-Where-?” you stammer.

“Oh, right!” Jerry gasps. “I saved you from those two men that tried to kidnap you.”

“You …” your eyes widen, and you look almost … relieved? “It's you! I'm happy to see a familiar face, at least …”

“You don't have to be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you … if that's what you think.”

You nod carefully.

“Where are my things …?” you ask carefully.

Jerry frowns. You hadn't had anything.

“I think you must have dropped them”, she says.

Which, if anything, is better for her.

“What time is it?” you ask. “I have to go back…”

Jerry freezes. It's still in the middle of the night, and she doesn't want to let you go!

“It's still night and you're shaken up, you should stay here … at least til the morning”, Jerry says. “Lat down again, get some sleep. Or are you hungry? Should I order some food for us?”

“I'm okay … thank you, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, o-of course.”

That fucking stuttering. She wants to hit herself.

In the morning, you meet Jerry out in the living room. Jerry has barely been able to sleep because of the extreme excitement, scared that if she falls asleep she'll wake up and realize that all of this is a dream.

“I realized that I never got to know your name”, you say and sit down in front of the couch. “I have talked to you multiple times but never known what your name is.”

“You can call me Jerry”, Jerry says.

“‘Can call me’? Isn't that your real name?”

“Well, I kind of changed it.” 

She clears her throat and picks up her phone, before quickly hiding it again. Your photocard. Too late. You've already reached for her phone with a smile.

“Is that me?” you ask excitedly. 

Jerry looks away in embarrassment.

“You weren't supposed to see that”, she mutters. 

“Oh, it's from this comeback! You have our most recent album?”

Jerry got herself seven copies to get your photocard. Damn your company only giving one photocard per album.

“Yeah”, she mumbles.

“Do you want me to sign it for you?” you ask.

“Shit, really?”

“Of course. You helped me.”

Jerry gets up from the couch. You follow her into the bedroom again. Jerry opens her wardrobe where your albums are hidden. She's afraid to be broken into and have someone realize her obsession with you. She wouldn't be able to handle the embarrassment.

“Look, you have them all”, you smile and bend down to pick up a paper fan with your face on it from your debut era. “Oh. You even have my merchandise! You must be a big fan.”

“I have been following you for a while”, Jerry admits as she picks up the right album. 

Both literally and figuratively.

“We are the same age”, she says. “I found you when I was still in high school.”

“That's years ago!” you gasp.

Jerry shrugs and hands you the album. While you sign it, she stares at you, admiring your bare face. You never show it on camera, always saying how ugly you are without makeup. That must be the most bullshit thing Jerry has ever heard.

“Here”, you smile, giving the album back.

“Thanks”, Jerry says and smiles slightly. She clears her throat, gathers herself. “We should order food.”

Jerry walks back to the living room. You follow. Both of you sit down on the couch and Jerry pulls out her phone. 

“Should we order some fried chicken?” Jerry asks. “Might not be the ideal breakfast food but who cares?”

“Oh, uhm … I'm actually on a diet”, you mumble embarrassedly. “My company wouldn't like me eating that …”

“Your company isn't here now.”

Jerry knows that you love fried chicken, and also know how much your company hates that you love it. 

The chicken delivery arrives twenty minutes later, no matter what you say. You stare at it with guilt in your eyes.

“I really shouldn't”, you mumble, forming fists to avoid taking one.

“Don't you want one?” Jerry asks, holding one crispy chicken sign in front of your face.

“Yes, I do, but-”

“Your company won't know. They have corrupted your brain. Take it, it won't kill you.”

You sigh and give in, taking the chicken wing. Jerry smirks and holds out a sauce packet.

“Poor little Y/N never gets to eat edible food”, she cooes. “They're starving you.”

“I know …”, you whisper and lower your eyes. “But I can't do anything about it. I will need to go back-”

“Wait a little more. I'm sure that there are a big commotion now, going now will only make things escalate. You will be bombarded by people.”

You sigh and nod.

The day goes by. You try to persuade Jerry to go back to your group, but she always responds with the same sentence: “Let's wait until tomorrow”. You've enjoyed Jerry’s company, to an extent. Something about her feels off, almost like the initial shock of having you here has been worn off and she has started to show her real colors. She doesn’t let you know what she’s working with or why she isn’t at home during the nights. Of course you’ve tried to sneak out during the nights, but she has locked the door from the outside and her apartment is way too high up for you to be able to climb out. You can see the entirety of Seoul from here. If only the people down on the street knew that you were trying to catch their attention. Jerry cut all internet connection. You have gotten to borrow her clothes, her bed and her shower products. You have eaten her food, drunk her drinks. 

Jerry comes home one night, finding you by the big windows in the living room, curled up against the glass, wearing her hoodie and sweatpants, crying. 

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” she hurries to ask and runs over. 

Baby girl. The word makes you even more terrified than you already are. 

Jerry sinks down in front of her, wearing those black clothes of hers. Her black brows are furrowed as her hands grab a hold of your shoulders. 

“What is it?” she demands to know. 

“Let me go home!” you scream, unable to contain your emotions for any longer. “Let me go!”

Jerry’s face drops. Her grip on your shoulders tighten. 

“No, not a fucking chance”, she says firmly. “I’m not letting you go.”

Your eyes widen at how dark her voice sounds, much darker than you have ever heard it before. 

“You can’t leave me”, Jerry continues in the same voice as her grip tightens even harder. 

“Stop”, you plead, voice breaking. “You’re scaring me.”

Jerry lets go off you and stand up, looking around for something. When she walks into the kitchen, you hurry up from the floor and throw yourself towards the door. You hear Jerry gasp and soon, her arms wrap around you. What feels like a dishcloth gets pressed against your face. The cloth have been drenched in something. Your legs wobble, losing control, and Jerry sink down on the floor with you in her arms. You try ripping her hands from you, but you can't seem to form fists anymore, can't grip anything.

“Don't try”, she whispers in your ear. “It's no use.”

“I can't breathe”, you manage to get out in a weak, slurred tone. 

“I'm not killing you.”

You sob one last time before everything goes black. Jerry wants for a few seconds before removing the cloth. She holds you in her arms, letting your unconscious head rest on her shoulder. Your tear stained face makes her heart sink. She's so selfish for keeping you. You don't belong to someone like her. You don't belong in the world Jerry lives in, but she can't give you back now that she has gotten to know you for real. Her life hasn't felt as complete as it has been these last few days. She has had a reason to come home, to not die on the job. She has a purpose now. And it's all thanks to you. For the first time in years, she has felt alive.

“I'm not letting you go”, she whispers firmly and wipes your tears with her sleeve. “There's no way.”

She picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom and tucking you in. Everyone is looking for you — you are all over the news. Everyone is worried about you … and here you are. It's not right … but she can't let you leave.

Jerry has handcuffs, and they have been intended for much different use, although for the same purpose. She handcuffs your right hand to the bed frame. The cuffs are surrounded by a pink fluff, and she finds it painfully ironic.

She pulls her chair to the side of the bed and sits down, watching you with her arms tightly crossed over her chest and burning tears in her eyes. The second they fall, she wipes them harshly. 

You're not asleep for long and when you awoken, you tug at the handcuff roughly.

“Stop!” Jerry demands and grabs your handcuffed wrist. “You will hurt yourself!”

Your terrified eyes shake as you look at her.

“Y/N, stop trying to get free”, Jerry orders. “You will hurt yourself. It will leave scars.”

Her perfect, untouched kpop idol. You have no marks on your body, not like her. Jerry's body is tainted — she has marks and scars from wounds, tattoos. You're a blank canvas and nothing can happen to you. Maybe, if she keeps you clean, she will be clenched of some of her own sins.

She picks up her phone and calls her boss. 

“You always call in the middle of the night”, her boss says before greeting her. “What is it this time?”

“I want to stage a murder”, she says surely. “I want everyone to think that Y/N has died. I can’t take this anymore. Everyone is looking for her and she knows it. It gives her … hope.”

“That isn’t hard. We grab a girl somewhat similar, color her hair and make sure that it will be hard to do DNA testing.”

“That is easier said than done.”

“If I manage to fix this for you, will you for the love of all fucking things, stop calling me in the middle of the night?”

“Maybe.”

She doesn't think that is is a good idea to leave you alone after that night and decide to bring you with her to her headquarters one day. You feel no courage to disagree. You sit in silence in the passenger seat of her sports car, fiddling with your fingers. She plays your song on the aux.

“So this is the little kpop girl you’re obsessed with?” a rough looking woman says as the two of you walk inside. 

The other people around try to get a look at you. You hide behind Jerry without noticing. Where has she taken you? Why does everyone look rough?

“Don’t touch her”, Jerry warns the woman. 

“Why are you bringing such a poor soul here, huh?” a man asks.

“Mind your own fuckign business, will you?” Jerry snarls and grabs your arm, pulling you past them. 

You’re placed on a couch where you hold your knees close to your chest, as if you don’t dare to move. A woman to your left has bought a pizza and is nonchalantly eating it. You glance at it, feeling hunger roar through you. Jerry seems to notice as she reaches forward to grab the pizza box. 

“Share with the rest of the class”, she says. “Y/N, eat.”

You hesitate. Jerry practically puts the pizza slice in your mouth. You want to ask why the other people in the house look dangerous, but their glazes towards you make you cold to your stomach. 

“Oh look, if it isn’t the news”, a man says as he comes into the room. 

“That’s my boss”, Jerry whispers to you with a half smile. 

The boss turns on the TV with the remote and what meets you make you freeze. The screen in front of you contain news filled with you being dead. Seeing your name in the sentence as ‘dead’ and watching people you have never seen before cry over you evokes an emotion you have never before felt. Your entire body has gone cold and never before have you felt such a nausea. You lean forward on the couch. 

“N-No …”, you whisper in pure panic and shake your head. “T-That's not me! I'm not dead!”

Your hand clasp over your hurting heart. It's going to rip in two, you can feel it ripping. All eyes are on you which, if possible, makes the situation worse.

“N-No … that's not—that's-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a chin on your shoulder. Turning enough to see Jerry's dark eyes fixated on the TV.

“The country will mourn you”, she says in your ear. “But they'll forget you. That's what happens with products. Someone else will take your place.”

“W-What- … who are you?” you ask with a trembling voice and look frantically between her face and the TV. “How could you…?”

“She hasn't told you what she works with, has she?” her boss asks.

“No …?” you stutter.

Jerry nods towards the TV. Your eyes widen.

“You kill … p-people?” 

A choir of mocking laughter echoes through the room. Everyone seem to take pleasure in your horror. You’re nothing more than the punchline in their sick joke.

“Every now and then”, Jerry replies as if she hasn’t heard them and strokes your pink hair. 

“Let me go”, you plead through new tears. “P-Please, I will do anything! I won't tell anyone what happened here. What do you want? Money? I-I can get you whatever you want!”

A new, even stronger, wave of laughter echoes. You see them bend in half, grabbing random furniture to not fall over. 

“I don't want money”, she scoffs. “I want you. That company isn't treating you right, your fans write sexual fanfictions of you on the internet and take pictures of you the second you bend down and you were almost kidnapped just a week ago! Is that what you want to go back to? Everyone sees you as a toy for their own benefits! Now you're free from it. I dont think that I have fucking saved you because I've pulled you into something worse, but at least now you’re not a product anymore.” 

Jerry runs her hand through her black hair and sighs. You feel naked under everyone’s gazes.You start to wonder if it really was you on the TV, because you can't seem to move, think or feel. You’re dead. In all senses, you’re now dead. Your blurry eyes wander around the dimly lit room, seeing too many mocking faces. You meet eyes with the boss and whimper at the realization that if Jerry is a killer, he must be something much worse.

“Well, welcome to your new life, Y/N”, he chuckles and gives Jerry a quick glance. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re in for.”

[azulaaaaaaah]

rating every zuko ship (cause that mf is shipped with everyone)

CLICKBAIT!!! this isn’t every zuko ship just the main ones i immediately lied lol. idk if any of these are hot takes or not but please don’t crucify me (might do a part 2 where it’s azula ships)

Jinko - Zuko/Jin

6/10

awwww it’s cute (for what it is)

and what it is was one singular date that was never really mentioned again

i really appreciate how jin is so unperturbed by zuko’s awkward angst and just genuinely likes him

howevvver she’s kinda one dimensional (as she’s only in like an episode) and i just don’t see this going anywhere longterm

less a ship, more a vehicle for zuko’s character development lol

Jetko- Zuko/Jet

3/10

jet being zuko’s first gay encounter is canon in my eyes

don’t ship them however cause i hate jet with the fire of a thousands suns

similar issues to jin as well where their interactions are extremely limited so personally have no clue how this could be a long term thing

Maiko- Zuko/Mai

5/10

i am so impartial on this ship it’s not even funny.

i get that it’s canon. i get that izumi looks suspiciously like mai so it’s endgame. i just don’t see HOW?? it feels as if the writers realised zutara was becoming popular and were like ‘OH SHIT WE GOTTA DEFUSE THIS SITUATION SOMEHOW’

their relationship is basically just mai being a cold asshole and zuko being an angry asshole and there’s no change or development between EITHER OF THEM

however when they’re cute they’re cute !!!!

‘i love zuko more than i fear you’ COLDEST LINE EVER

however again it’s like - you had a crush on him as a kid. he was BANISHED. you dated for like a month as teens. you argued the whole time. he left again- and shortly after you saved him from prison, but then you were imprisoned partly due to his actions. you get back together again, he becomes the ruler of a country, and then you’re surprised it’s isolating him/making him even more of an asshole???

on the other hand we as a society need to admit that zuko is weirdly possessive of her (ig that’s a positive if ur a booktok romance girlie but im not). like if i was mai i wouldn’t put up with that toxic shit either

at the end of the day, i honestly don’t care that they’re canon lol- but i think they’d probably best as a bitchy best friend duo

Zukaang - Zuko/Aang

1/10

not round here partner. not round here

my first issue is the age gap is objectively extremely weird if examined in canon. leaving it at that

i get that this is grumpy x sunshine in a way the other ships aren’t to me- but we’ve only ever seen these two characters interact with each other when there’s (again) A WEIRD AGE GAP

they are bros in the least homosexual way possible

the cherry on top of this situation is: isn’t aang the reincarnation of his great grandpa? isn’t that giving slight, uh, inc*st vibes??? imagine if people shipped korra and jinora isn’t that just WEIRD???

Zuki - Zuko/Suki

8/10

is this my most controversial take ???

i am a sucker for bodyguard x royal family dynamics guys

and the fact that this is girlboss x malewife is even BETTER

suki seems the most competent at handling his pissy ass in a way the other people on this list aren’t

like she’s real. she’s not sugarcoating his situation, BUT SHES COMPASSIONATE !!

i don’t like throuples typically but suzukki is even eliter than this, which removes the whole ‘going against the bro code’ element that arises from them being together

also i feel like if you haven’t read the comics this doesnt make sense At All so please do

-2 points for the lack of tangible reason to ship them lol

Zutara - Zuko/Katara

7.5/10

okay this one makes the most logistical sense to me within canon (solely examined as a zuko ship not overall)

it really seems as if they were gonna make this canon and swerved circa book 2

LIKE CMONNNN OG ENEMIES TO LOVERS WHERE THE GUY ACTUALLY HAS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND ISN’T JUST EVIL? FIRE X WATER? ITS INTRIGUING

something about this makes me uncomfortable though. (despite the age gap which again a little weird)

something about katara potentially becoming the fire lady is so… icky. she’s a waterbender. the fire nation tried to systematically erase her kind. her mother is killed by the fire nation because they think she’s a waterbender. and katara…. what, becomes part of the royal family? it just seems wrong, and like something she wouldn’t be into

also i feel like their arguments would be a little too NUCLEAR. there’s like, a 50% chance of divorce

she deserves a better ending than that is all i’m saying

to paraphrase the hunger games: katara has plenty of fire herself. SHE NEEDS THAT DANDELION IN THE SPRING MAN

(i’m a kataang truther)

Zukka - Zuko/Sokka

9/10

my zuko related otp!!!

bros to lovers guys, where zuko falls first but sokka falls HARDER !!!

ik this will never be canon and im happy with that. i know there’s not even a whisper of romance between them in the show, but i just think it’s c u t e .

sokka (like suki) is very likely to call zuko out on his shit, but less likely to lose his own shit (like katara)

this in my heart of hearts is 10/10 however is still problematic in a similar way to zutara

his mother is killed by the fire nation and he (presumably) becomes consort ?

however though, i would still say it’s not as ruhroh as zutara bc firstly, sokka isn’t a waterbender, and secondly, ‘consort’ is a lot more open to interpretation than i think fire lady is. in my opinion a consort ≠ a fire lady, just like irl a consort ≠ a queen. it kinda means he can still be ambassador to the southern water tribe/a leader of his own people, while just so happening to be married to the fire lord.

overall i can’t help but stan a friends to lover ship cmOn now

[starlightsreigns]

hold up | a lemonade story

summary ⇢ mellie's hanging on by a thread. how much longer can she hang on when one question coils deep in her? is roman... cheating on her? word count ⇢ 1.4k tags ⇢ minors, do not interact. implied cheating | two ; denial “What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you”

i don’t wanna lose my pride, but imma fuck me up a bitch.

“Melody, you’re going to drive yourself insane,” My friend Alyssa sighs. “Don’t you trust him?” 

That’s a great question. However, I’m past the point of giving a damn.  I’m literally driving myself to insanity with all of this and I’m not sure how to bring it up. How do you confront the love of your life about something like this without him immediately going on the defense?

“I don’t trust him, that’s the problem, and I don’t know how to get back to that point anymore.” 

Alyssa is my moral compass, she tries to keep me levelheaded when I feel myself slipping. She’s my best friend, but she’s a big fan of Roman and I’s relationship — Alyssa refuses to believe that he’s this person, that he can be a cheater when he’s been so caring. She sees the best in him. 

“Mellie, what has he done to make you feel this way?”

My eyes meet hers, “Don’t make me feel crazy, Aly, I’m already losin’ it here.”

“I’m not sayin’ that, I promise, I’m just tryna understand how you go to this point.” Alyssa sits up. “Just help me understand and I promise we can fuck his shit up tonight.” She offers a smile. 

While she’s the more levelheaded one of us, the thing I love the most about her is her willingness to support any and every decision I make — even if it’s the craziest shit she’s ever heard.

That’ll be helpful later. 

Somethin’ don’t feel right because it ain’t right.. Comin’ up after midnight

The house is the coldest it’s ever been in a long time. I’m pretty sure the only source of heat is coming from the anger seeping out of my pores when I hear his keys in the lock as I sit on the couch. A book sits in my lap untouched as he comes in through the door. 

“Hey, Mellie,” Roman throws my way lazily. He comes over to kiss my cheek and I can’t help but smell the perfume that radiates off his body. Chanel. At least the bitch has taste. “You up late.” 

My brain wants to cuss him out, but thankfully restraint still exists when I finally reply. “I’d say the same for you, baby, where you been at?”  

Roman glances in my direction while heading to the kitchen, “I went to the PC then had dinner with the twins.” 

“Oh, the twins are in town?” My eyes train on his back. 

There’s no way they can be in town. During a call with Trinity earlier in the day, she told me that her husband and his brother were doing house shows during the week, so, it’s impossible for them to be at dinner. Yet, he seems to think I’m the biggest idiot on planet earth. 

“Yeah, we went to that steakhouse on 85th.” Roman shuts the fridge and turns to look at me. “Then we got drinks at Tini’s and watched the game.” 

Of course, he has an answer for everything. A tinge of rage strikes me in my chest while watching how calm he is. 

“What game did you watch?” 

That stops him for a moment. 

But I continue, “I watched a couple on split screen.” 

Roman runs his hand over his beard then takes a long swig of beer. 

“Cowboys versus the Texans was good.” I bait with a small smile. 

“Yeah, that’s the one, we ain’t seen the results though.” 

Well, of course, he didn’t, maybe because those two teams didn’t have a game tonight. 

To not lose my cool, I let the conversation go. I can see him watching me from the corner of my eyes as I pretend to read my book. There’s nothing else I can say. I’ve caught him in more lies than I can count — and there’s a feeling in my gut that tells me he knows. 

Can’t you see there’s no other man above you?

Most people would judge me and I don’t blame them. Even with my suspicion, I can’t deny the love and affection I have. So, here I am under him. I can’t help it. 

“Look at me, baby,” Roman’s rough voice sharpens my attention. “you look so beautiful.” He runs his hand down my cheek. 

His eyes on me, for the first in a while, feels like how it used to be. It makes me forget all the pain that I’ve felt for so long. This is what I want back. 

My hand grips his wrist, pulling him down onto the bed, maneuvering so I’m on top. 

The gems on my acrylic nails catch some of the light from the moon. My hands are pressed against his chest, holding me steady, keeping the rhythm of our skin slapping together. I throw my head back with a moan, feeling the way he raises his hips to reach deeper into me. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” I breathe out, leaning down to kiss his neck. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” 

It was the truest thing I’ve ever said. It is the truest thing I’ll ever say. 

How did it come down to this?  scrolling through your call list

His phone is empty. She’s not on here, but I know she exists. How can I keep living in the paranoia where I know the ghost exists but there’s no proof of it? I toss his phone back onto his side of the bed with a huff just as he walks out of the bathroom. 

“what’s wrong?” He takes a look at my exasperated expression.

“You know how much I love you, right?” My voice is harsher than I wanted, but it catches his attention. “And we made our vows to be loyal to one another, i’m keeping my end.” 

Roman knits his eyebrows together, “I love you, too, Mellie.” He sits at the edge of the bed. “I’ll always be here.” 

The reassurance I was hoping to feel never comes. Instead, I’m slowly feeling rage. But, I don’t respond but nod. I can’t look jealous or crazy, that’ll only drive him away or make him sneakier. If anything, I need him to slip up. That’s the only way I can make sense of this — Lord, give me a sign. 

What’s worse? Lookin’ jealous or crazy?... I’d rather be crazy. 

Sleep was the last thing on my mind. Instead, my eyes fixated on the TV screen that flickered in the darkness. Roman was sound asleep beside me and my nerves had finally calmed enough for me to wonder if I was going insane. 

I’ve found no tangible proof. Maybe, just maybe, I’m convincing myself of something that isn’t true –possibly self-sabotaging and self-destructing. If I don’t stop now, all my hair will fall out from the stress. Three months of thinking these thoughts are slowly killing me. Not that he’s noticed, but I’ve lost 25 pounds in my mission to find out the nonexistent truth. 

My eyes are slowly closing when his screen catches my attention. It’s three in the morning, who could possibly be texting him? I’ve just come to an agreement with myself and now I’m plunged back into the uncertainty. I should just turn over and fall asleep, but I just need to look at the message and I’ll be over it. 

J: are you really not coming over tonight, baby? i miss you. mellie sees you more than enough. just come over and be back before she wakes up.

My eyes scan the message over and over again. I’m not sure what else I’m looking for, but I’m hoping that at some point the message would read something different — something that doesn’t confirm all my suspicions. I cover my mouth when the tears start to fall, not wanting to wake him up and find me in this position. My chest feels heavy and my feet are a ton of bricks when I make it out of bed. 

Out in the hallway, I slide down the wall with my hands still firmly covering my mouth to swallow the sobs. This isn’t what I wanted nor was it what I needed. My brain feels scrambled with incoherent thoughts. What do I do now? Should I leave? Should I take a baseball bat to his head? Yet, the only thing I’m sure of right now is that I might throw up.

It’s difficult for me to get back up to my feet. My body shakes uncontrollably in the darkness and my breathing is shallow until I’m taking deep breaths. I turn to glance into the room, feeling my skin heat up. This feeling isn’t sadness, it isn’t hurt, or disappointment. I’m past denial – what I’m feeling is scorn and hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. 

“But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know. Are you cheating? Are you cheating on me?”

please excuse the errors, classes are kicking my ass. hope you’ve enjoyed it 🫶🏽 very excited to post “don’t hurt yourself” x

[hazashiovo]

Hiiii! I just saw you’re taking requests could you do some bolin and/or mako relationships hcs with a badass/cool/badgirl kind of s/o please? Thx so much in any case!

I gotchuuu 😉

Bolin and Mako x reader (separate) with a badass s/o

A/n: keep the requests coming people

When Mako first met you he knew you were trouble. From the way you were talking to how you acted,he knew.

You're the kind of person that says ACAB,very loudly, near a police station just to piss him off,and don't deny it.

Becoming friends was unusual to him,only for him to realize you're a really good friend but have odd ways of showing it.

One time this dude went off on Bolin, yelling something about his cabbages,until you appeared in front of him.

He swears he never saw someone go quiet that fast before. That's the first time he felt something for you(or so he thinks).

Mako would be reluctant in confessing to you. He would be worried you don't like him back or laugh about it in his face.

But it was nothing like that, because he didn't confess. You did. During a fight with the equalizers.

It was sorta funny really,for a few minutes mako thought he got knocked out and he was dreaming.

"Hey mako?" A punch in one's face, "What is it (Name)?" He dodges an attack.

"I like you!" You wink at him,after knocking an enemy out.

Oh and the expression on his face 😭

Yeah after you got rid of Amon's followers,Mako looked at you like you asked him to marry you.

It wasn't a shock when you got together, everyone shiped you.

The two of you are an amazing duo,bad ass boyfriend and even more bad ass girlfriend.

When he joined the police department,you joined him.

Now Mako knows your beautiful,and strong,but he still hates the way his colleagues undress you with their eyes.

God forbid anyone to try to ask you out without knowing you and Mako date.

It would sometimes create arguments between you two, Mako would say some harsh things,things he didn't mean. Of course the next day you'd make up.

But if it was for a girl to flirt with Mako, you wouldn't get all defensive because you trust him.

Now, leaving that aside.

One thing Mako noticed is that you can take good care of yourself,so you never were in need of help in combat.

But if it ever happens ,his whole world would crash,like if you're a bender, imagine Amon taking away your abilities.

Even without your bending you would be confident and strong,which makes Mako admire you more than before.

On top of it,you're great together and most of the people would say so.

Now Bolin here? Oh Bolin, when he first saw you his pupils turned to hearts,and I'm not joking.

Like,you would be over there with your cool car or cool motorcycle,and Bolin would gawk at you from across the street. He almost fainted when you crossed the street to start a conversation with him.

Of course Bolin would be a flustered mess every time you flirted with him.

Frankly all you wanted was a soft boy to match with your tough personality. The people who don't know you would think you'd prefer a boy with the same personality as you,but no, Bolin is the perfect boy.

Some people think you're intimidating,but not Bolin.

He knows you're badass,but he could never see you as scary.

He likes when you stand up for yourself,and for him.

One time Bolin happened to trip over this guy's cabbage stand,and he just flipped! Started yelling at the poor boy and all.

Until you came,you gave that man the coldest glare which made him shut up so quick. He couldn't lie to himself that he found it really attractive, especially in you.

I like to think that he confessed his love to you while you were saving him from Amon with the Krew. Imagine him just jumping on you , bawling his eyes out and telling you he's in love with you after he almost lost his bending.

Of course you accepted and returned his feelings,wich got the two of you in a long term relationship that is still strong.

.

.

This one was cute 😽

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: lee chan

age gap (younger/older)

'open your eyes and see, i'm all you'll ever need'

'age is just a number.'

you sigh, turning to look at chan. 'how many times you're going to repeat that?'

'as many times as it'll take to stick in your head,' he responses easily, ignoring your flat tone and bad mood. 'age is just a number, it means nothing. so what that i am younger? does that make me less of a man?'

'lee chan, i just failed my economy midterm, how about we'll discuss the nuances of what it takes to be a man a bit later?' you deadpan, trying to keep a strict face when boy in front of you blushes.

channie blushes so prettily, you can't help but notice. he, in general, is a very pretty boy, something that you unfortunately also can't help but notice. his profile is worth painting a picture for, his smile makes you feel warm even in the coldest days and his energy levels never fail to surprise you. he also is, well, younger. much younger.

'it's just one midterm,' he soothes and moves closer, taking something out of his bag. 'it won't heavily affect your overall score, no? here, i bought your favorite croissants with pistachio from that bakery down the street.'

you frown. 'down the street? that's a really expens- channie, those croissants are really expensive.'

boy next to you has the audacity to simply shrug his shoulders like it's not a big deal. 'so what? you like them, right?' at your nod, he smiles. 'then it's okay that they are expensive.'

and it's- terribly sweet. extremely thoughtful. very kind. chan treats you like no one did before and you two are not even dating. he's finishing his first year in uni, works half-time in the library and has several basketball trainings a week but somehow always finds time for you. he is there when you're on your close-up duty in the coffee shop you work, always with umbrella cause he knows you don't have one and waits patiently for you to check all locks and then walks you back to the dormitory under the 'it's so dark outside, it's unsafe' excuse. he remembers your favorite everything from snacks to tv shows and always sends you funny memes about them to cheer you up during midterms/exams week or leaves something at your dorm for you to pick up. he listens to your endless rambles about what awaits you after uni as you're on your last year and lets you cry it out on his shoulder, never minding wet patches you leave on his shirts. chan could've been your boyfriend, really. but he's so young and you feel like you're robbing him out of experiencing this university at full even when your age difference is not that big. but why would a first year boy date forth year girl?

'you're supposed to eat them, you know,' he gently nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of sad thoughts. 'have they already gone cold? we have microvewave on our floor, if you wait here i can quickly run-'

'no need,' you interrupt, barely breathing due to how tight your chest is. exactly how much this boy is ready to do for you? 'i'll eat it like that. thank you very much, channie.'

he beams at you and he really has no business in being this cute, it does something weird to your heart. you both sit in comfortable silence as you think about all the instances when chan barelled you with his 'age is just a number'. he got hooked on you pretty much the moment you two met and for the last six months you've been hearing the same 'age is just a number' five times a week.

'are you really very sad because of the midterm?' he asks in a quiet voice. 'or is there something else?'

of course there is something else. uncertainty about the future, anxiety over the rest of the midterms, fear of failing - 'yeah, just that midterm,' you mutter, trying to fake a smile.

'why are you lying?' his tone is too harsh for you not to flinch. 'why are you lying to me right now? is it because i'm younger?'

'wha- chan, what?' you ask, baffled.

chan takes a deep breath and stares back at you with utmost seriousness. 'you think just because i'm younger i won't be able to take it? won't be able to be there for you and support you in your struggles? why are you lying to me? why you are not telling the whole truth about what's bothering you? you think i can't help just because i'm not your age or older? is this it?'

he actually is upset, you realize in shock. chan looks like he's two seconds away from pulling his hair out or crying, whichever is more fitting. his eyes are pleading you to come clean to him, to let him be there for you and your throat constricts with unsaid words. no one has ever shown this consistent interest in you, no one ever made it clear about their intentions and this right now, coming from a boy who's much younger, who only now dips his toes in the mature world makes you want to cry. it must show on your face, because chan's face crumples and he quickly sits closer to you, mumbling 'please, please don't cry, i'm sorry!' and rubbing your back.

'i'm fine, i'm fine,' you say, wiping away few tears. 'sorry, i'm weirdly overemotional these days.'

'nothing to be sorry for,' he instantly says, frowning. 'are you okay? did i upset you?'

you shake your head, smiling a little. 'no. you just made me realize what douchebags i dated before you.'

'oh.' chan's eyebrows quirk in a cute way. 'uh- you're welcome?'

cracking up, you lean further into him and chan welcomes it readily, wrapping his arms around you. he's warm and solid and it feels good and safe to stay like that with him. age is just a number. 'channie,' you start and he hums a little, letting you know that he's listening. 'i don't want to burden you with my soon-to-graduate kind of problems, when you've just started your uni life here. you've got so much going on and i-'

'i'm very strong,' chan interrupts with voice full of determination. 'i can have my own problems and take care of yours at the same time, i promise.'

it's sweet. so terribly, horribly sweet, you think you're going to kiss him right now. and you do, smiling when he instantly hugs you tighter and kisses you back. god, it feels good to be wanted. when you lean back, channie is staring at you in awe, stars shine in his eyes so brightly that you can't help but kiss him again. 'okay, strong boy,' you mutter, cuddling up to him. 'you got me in the end. age is just a number.'

a/n: finishing up these series pretty soon, whew! how did you like this one? come say hi <3 - nini

my other works are here

if somehow someone reading this is into formula 1, then my works for it are here

[lecsainz]

Kk! So I absolutely loved your last piece about Carlos and the heiress!reader, and I have to agree I really really love those blended fics. Something about them just hits different ya know? And then I saw this post https://www.tumblr.com/monzabee/729167936518012928 and was like god I wish someone still wrote for kimi. And then off I’m scrolling through your blog and I see that ask were apparently you do?? Like holy shit bestie! This is like the greatest day ever! So all of that to say will you please please right something that involves the video from that post?? Pretty please??

MELTING THE ICEMAN

parings: kimi räikkönen x wife!reader

author 🗒️’s: my heart melted writing this, I hope it turned out as you want, love

summary: the one where you see your husband taking care of your son and feel that you couldn’t be happier as you are.

✩. . . masterlist !

Kimi Räikkönen, the Iceman of Formula 1, had always been known for his stoic and unemotional demeanor on the race track. But at home, in the quiet moments, he transformed into a different person entirely. There was a side of him that very few people got to see, a side that was incredibly warm, loving, and tender.

One sunny afternoon, the two of you sat in the cozy living room, surrounded by the soft laughter and gurgles of your 6-month-old son, Jake. Kimi held the baby in his arms, cradling him gently as he made funny faces to elicit the most delightful giggles from your little one.

Kimi leaned down, his lips brushing against Jake's plump, rosy cheeks. "Who's the happiest baby in the world, huh?" he cooed, his Finnish accent making it all the more endearing.

Jake's response was a chorus of delighted baby laughter, a sound that could melt the coldest of hearts. You watched in awe as your husband continued to play with Jake, making silly noises and pretending to nibble on his tiny fingers. It was a side of Kimi that you fell in love with all over again, a side that he reserved for his family.

"Kimi," you whispered, unable to contain your fondness, "you are the best dad in the world."

Kimi looked up from Jake's little face, his azure eyes meeting yours. A small, warm smile graced his lips, a rare sight for the world but a daily occurrence in the privacy of your home. "I learned from the best," he said softly, referring to you.

You couldn't help but blush at the compliment. Kimi's transformation into a devoted father had surprised you, but it had also filled your heart with an indescribable joy. His dedication and love for Jake were unmistakable, and you couldn't have asked for a better partner to share parenthood with.

As the day continued, you both took turns caring for Jake, feeding him, changing his diapers, and watching him drift off to sleep in his crib. Every moment felt like a cherished memory in the making, and you couldn't help but daydream about the future.

When Kimi returned to the living room after putting Jake down for his nap, he found you deep in thought. You looked up at him with a dreamy smile, and he knew you were up to something.

"Darling, what's on your mind?" he asked, settling beside you on the couch.

You took his hand and interlaced your fingers. "Kimi, I was just thinking about how wonderful this is—our little family. I love watching you with Jake, and I can't help but wonder… I want more of these moments. I want more children with you."

Kimi's typically cool exterior cracked, and he looked at you with a mix of surprise and delight. "More children?" he repeated, as if the idea had never occurred to him before. But the spark of warmth in his eyes revealed that he was just as excited by the prospect.

You nodded, your heart pounding with anticipation. "Yes, more children. I want to see you as a father again and again, to have more of these beautiful moments with you."

A slow, genuine smile spread across Kimi's face, and he pulled you into a loving embrace. "I'd love that," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you, and I love our family. Let's make more beautiful memories together."

The two of you sat there, lost in the prospect of a larger, even more joyful family. Kimi held you close, and you knew that your dreams were aligned. It was a beautiful day of laughter, love, and dreams for the future, all in the gentle embrace of your husband and your precious son, Jake. The Iceman had certainly melted, and you couldn't have been happier about it.

[bookyeom]

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 3.7k warnings: angst (she did it y’all!!!!), swearing, kissing, wet!vernon

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. Happy Birthday, Bononie!

kissing in swimming pools by holly humberstone

do you think we were made to last in the coldest of weather? maybe i don’t have to leave so soon you look heavenly in this shade of blue

Vernonie [8:48pm]: finally back from dinner

Vernonie [8:49pm]: everyone’s gone btw, so i’ll come get u now?

Y/N [8:51pm]: yeye! Just text when ur outside 

You hear his car before you see it. 

His parents must have kept his old, beat-up car from high school for when he came back for the summer, you muse, and it makes you smile. You’d spent a lot of time in that car, listening to whatever new indie band Vernon had “discovered” that week, or eating take-out in the department store parking lot after hours, or your personal favourite: with the engine shut off at the lookout Vernon had discovered on his way home from work one day, tucked away from most of the world as the two of you reclined in his car seats and looked at the night sky. 

You used to wonder if it was there that you fell in love with him, but the truth is that you loved him long before he showed up at your door at 1am, eyes wide with excitement over his new discovery, and brought you there in your pajamas. 

You still have the hoodie he’d leant you that night in the closet of your childhood bedroom.

Tonight, you shut the door quietly behind you out of habit, twisting the knob so it doesn’t make a sound. You’re long past the days of sneaking out, but your muscle memory won’t quit. 

It’s been eight months since you last saw Vernon. You only came home for two days at Christmas, claiming you couldn’t take that much time off from your part time job, and had managed to avoid him. You had still needed the space from him, then. December had only marked four months since he’d broken your heart, and you weren’t sure at the time if you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again. 

The months after Christmas break had finally begun to heal you. Your new semester had started, and you had decided to dive headfirst into both academic and social endeavors instead of wallowing away in your dorm room. You’d finally made new friends, your grades had improved, and while it still hurt to see his name when it popped up across your social media platforms, it wasn’t all you thought about anymore.

Right now, you kind of can’t wait to see him.

“Hi,” you say, breathless, and when Vernon meets your eyes, you know you’re not breathless because of the jog from your front door to his car. 

He looks good. His hair is a bit longer, curling at the ends and falling softly across his forehead, and you think his shoulders have filled out. His jaw is just as sharp, eyelashes just as long, and you immediately wonder how you’d gone so long without him. 

“Hi, stranger,” he says, and you’re terrified that the sound of his voice might tear you apart — but it doesn’t. You hold firm, despite the sound of your heartbeat roaring loud in your ears. It hurts, but it’s a dull ache instead of the sharp pain you’re used to. Seeing him sends a wave of relief through you instead of the dread you’d been half expecting, and you can feel the tension in your chest ease just the slightest bit. You can do this. Because it’s Vernon, and because life sucks without him. 

You stare at each other for a few moments, and then he raises an eyebrow as if in a challenge, and you can’t help it. You break into a smile, and then you’re surging across the middle console and pulling him in for a hug. He laughs against your neck, and you know he’s just as happy to see you as you are him. The hand that was on the steering wheel finds your back, and your eyes fall shut. 

“I missed you,” you say honestly, and you swear you can feel him exhale.

“Yeah,” he says before squeezing you tight, once. Brief, but enough for you to feel it, to understand, as he adds, “Me too.”

You pull back. Vernon puts the car into drive as you click on your seatbelt, and you fall into an easy, comfortable silence as he begins to make the familiar way back to his place. 

When you texted him a few weeks ago, your hands trembling but determined, you hadn’t been sure what he would say. You hadn’t spoken in months.

For a while, you didn’t think you’d ever get over the rejection of last August, but a year away at university had done you good. It was full of distractions; you’d even had a couple of flings here and there. Vernon had texted you a bit at first, because you’d insisted that you were fine, but it had hurt to see his name show up on your phone. You had responded slowly, using any and all excuses to explain away the days that passed without you answering. You’d texted sparingly throughout the year on birthdays and holidays, and you knew he watched your stories the same as you watched his. You knew he knew the real reason why you were distant, but he never pushed. After all, he’d broken your heart, not the other way around. 

Eventually, you had recognized that the distance was helping, and conversations between the two of you had become even more sparse after that. It had been hard — one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do — but you’d needed the space. So when his response to your text a few weeks ago had come quickly and enthusiastically, a Vernon-esque “bet :)” in response to your ask to hang out when you got home for the summer, you had been so relieved that you’d cried. Though you’d known he would never hate you, deep down a small part of you had still been afraid that you’d pushed him away for good.  

The silence in the car tonight is comfortable, and you’re grateful. Vernon is tapping in tune to the beat on his steering wheel while you hum along in quiet contentment. After a couple of songs that you recognize play in a row, you turn to him in surprise. 

“Is this the playlist I made you for your birthday two years ago?” 

Vernon simply nods, eyes on the road as he makes a turn. “Yeah.” 

“Oh.”

Vernon laughs. “Am I not supposed to listen to it?”

“Just surprised me, that’s all.”

”Okay, weirdo.” 

The conversation moves on, but you don’t forget about it, even as you pull up to Vernon’s childhood home. 

It looks almost exactly the same. You follow Vernon up the steps and to the front door, through the foyer and to the kitchen where you used to help his mom prep for their summer barbecues. He tosses you a bottle of water wordlessly before he’s slipping out the back door without warning, and you trail behind without question. His peculiar mannerisms don’t faze you, even after all this time apart, and that realization brings you a warm sort of comfort.

As soon as you step through the back door and into the warmth of the summer evening air again, you can’t help but smile. This, too, remains unchanged. The heated pool with its blue and white tiled sides; the metal table with its umbrella, a single tip bent out of shape so that it sags just in one small part; the overgrown trees whose leaves spill over the sides of the wooden fence. You’d spent many days and nights here, too. 

You join Vernon, who’s already sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs hung over the sides. 

“Damn, you didn’t waste any time, Sol.” The nickname falls out before you can stop it. It’s been so long since you’ve been around him, since you’ve even let yourself think of him as anything other than Vernon. If he notices your slip up, he doesn’t say.

”It’s hot out,” he points out, simple. “Why wait?” He takes a swig of his own water bottle, and you’re smiling again.

You join him without further comment. 

Quiet settles between the two of you again, which would be fine if you weren't suddenly itching to ask him a million questions. How was his first year of university? How are his parents, his sister? Is his favourite food still carne asada tacos? Does he still only own t-shirts and jeans? Is he… seeing anyone?

Is he happy?

Had he really missed you?

“I’ll be right back.”

You’re surprised when Vernon gets up, barely missing you with the water he sends splashing as he does. But you don’t question him, your legs swinging back and forth in the water. You watch the underwater lights distort in the ripples you make, distracted by the simple movements and your racing thoughts. When you hear him re-emerge, you turn to find him with two towels in hand. Your eyes widen and you frantically shake your head.

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit, Vernon.” And I am not getting into that pool with you in just my underwear.

He pulls something out from under one of the towels, and you recognize it as one of his favourite band tees that he’s had for years. He raises his eyebrows at you, eyes twinkling in a teasing challenge, and you narrow your eyes at him. The smile on his face briefly sends you reeling back — back to before that night last summer when everything changed. Back to when he was just your best friend who liked to tease you for fun, who brought you your favourite ice cream every movie night, who took you to your high school graduation dance even though you knew he would have rathered gouge his eyes out with a spoon. 

Back to when you were in love with him, but he didn’t know yet. 

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll get in.”

He grins, and your chest does a little flip-flop. You forcefully ignore it as you take the shirt from his outstretched hand. He turns around to give you privacy, and you keep your eyes on his turned back as you remove everything except your underwear and his shirt. Though he’s grown up now and wears things that fit him better — you had noticed the bomber jacket in his backseat, and the t-shirt he’s wearing that fits him just right — he used to love things that were three sizes too big. The old, worn shirt just brushes your thighs, but you don’t have time to think anymore about it when he moves to pull his own shirt up and over his head. 

You watch the muscles in his back contract, and you swallow. Don’t go down this road again, you tell yourself. It’s just going to hurt like hell.

If you’re honest with yourself, you’re starting to wonder if you’d ever really strayed from that path in the first place.

Because when he turns back to you with raised eyebrows and a smile, when he pulls you with him by the hand, it hits you with as much force as the cool water you jump into. And when you resurface and your eyes find him already looking back at you, his hair sticking up every which way and water dripping from his lashes down onto his cheeks, it hits you again.

That you don’t know if there will ever be anyone else for you but him.

You turn away from him, running your hands through your hair, trying desperately to keep your cool. You feel like you’re being punched in the stomach, like that sharp pain you’d felt since last August had never left. You thought you were ready to see him again, and you had been so, so wrong. 

You can feel all those months of mending, of trying desperately to get over your feelings for him so you could have him back in your life — you can feel them as they slip away. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he’d said that night, and your heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. You could tell through blurry eyes that he was hurting, too, because he loved you, you knew he did. Just not like that. He hadn’t said anything else, even though it looked like he wanted to, and you just didn’t understand. You thought for sure that he felt the same, because he’d kissed you back, because you knew him just as well as he knew you. 

And it really felt like you’d healed. Just an hour ago, you’d even been excited to see him again.

You will yourself to breathe.

“Hey. I’m sorry I pulled you in with me.”

You don’t respond.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t answer as his voice breaks through your racing thoughts, your back still turned to him. 

“…Y/N?”

He sounds concerned, like he cares. You know he does — know that he always has. And it hurts.

You can feel the water moving behind you when you still don’t respond. You can feel it as he takes a step or two closer, and you can almost imagine the look on his face as he tries to figure out what he did wrong. You feel like you’ve been burned when he reaches for you, when his hand tries to find your arm to turn you back to him. You can hear his inhale when you flinch away, your skin on fire where his fingertips just barely brushed your shoulder.

He tries again, because he loves you. Because he loves you — but not like that. “Talk to me?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you take a deep breath. You know you have to face him in order to get through this, to leave here in one piece even if it’s by pretending. You have to. You don’t want him to know, don’t want him to know that you’re still the reason you can’t be close to him, that you still love him, that you probably never stopped. 

But when you turn to find him right there, find him so close, when you see that his eyes are full of worry, you can’t find a single word. He looks beautiful in the dim blue light of the pool, and it makes your heart ache.

“Y/N.” Your name is nothing but a whispered breath as he says it, his eyes locked so intently on your face that you suddenly feel warm all over despite the slight chill of the water. His gaze pierces through you, and you watch as it travels across your face, down to your lips, where it lingers. 

You’re not sure you’re breathing, not sure what to do, not sure how to possibly move on from what feels impossible. Why isn’t he moving away? Why is he so close? 

“I…” He tries again, eyes still on your mouth. Then he snaps his gaze up again. “I’m… I’m really happy that you’re here.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You…”

“I missed you.” He looks hesitant before he says it, but he says it anyway, and your breath catches when you hear the tender, soft tone of his voice. It makes your head spin. “I really missed you. So much.” 

You take a steadying breath at the same time as he does. The air between you feels charged — charged with something you won’t let yourself name.

Then he’s stepping even closer, a hand lifting to your face, and you freeze. You can’t move — you don’t even know if you want to. You’re confused, but you don’t move, and all you can manage to say is a single word.

“Sol,” you caution.

He takes a deep breath in, and then he says, “You haven’t thought about it?” 

His hand is gentle on your jaw, thumb tracing lines back and forth across your skin. You feel goosebumps everywhere he touches. Your eyes search his, trying desperately to understand. You hate that you’re finding him extra hard to read right now — now, when you need to know what he’s thinking more than ever. 

“Thought about what?” Your voice is small, and you hate it.

Vernon’s other hand lifts to your face, tilting your chin up towards him. His eyes search yours as he speaks, his voice low. “Last summer.” He pauses. “Us.”

The words hit you like a truck. 

“What the fuck, Vernon?” You finally manage. You can feel the tears begin to well up, and you pull his hands away from your face. “Don’t you dare.”

He takes a step back, eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry.”

You stare at him incredulously, frustration bubbling to the surface the longer you look at him. “Don’t be an asshole.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and all you can hear is the water gently hitting against the side of the pool. You frustratedly tuck a lock of wet hair behind your ear before crossing your arms.

“Why would you say that to me?” You’re hurt, and he knows it.

“I just…” He searches your face for a moment before he breathes out, “I think about you all the time. I miss you all the time.”

You can feel angry tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. You blink them away rapidly as you spit out, “You were the one who kissed me back and then pretended like nothing happened. You—“

“Would you have gone?”

You blink when he interrupts you, and it takes you a second to try and understand what he means. You wrack your brain, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “What?”

“Would you have gone to school there if I had told you I loved you last summer? Or would you have chosen somewhere closer?”

You’re absolutely dumbfounded as you process what he’s saying. You’re blinking away furious tears, mouth agape as you try and settle on something to say. “Was that your fucking choice to make?”

“I was trying to make it easier for you. It’s your dream school.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “What the fuck? I was in love with you, Vernon!”

“I was in love with you, too!”

The silence is deafening. You stare at him with wide eyes, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it. Then you squeeze your eyes shut, your hands lifting to cover your face as you try and regain your composure. 

“I thought I was doing what was best for the both of us.”

His voice is quiet. You know he’s telling the truth. It hurts, but you know he’s being honest. That he thought he was doing the right thing. 

“I thought that maybe the distance would make it a little easier,” he continues, voice carrying softly across the water in the space between you. “But it didn’t. Not for me.”

Moments pass, and you realize you’re shaking. Your hands stay covering your face as you take deep breaths, waiting until you’ve recovered enough to say, voice low, “I have never been more upset with you than I am right now.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he responds. “I know, and I deserve it. I’m sorry that I made that decision for you. I really am. I shouldn’t have done it.”

You nod after a minute, after you force yourself to breathe, letting your hands fall from your face. You can’t look at him, though, eyes instead focusing on your fingers that begin tracing patterns in the water at your sides. “Okay.”

“And I'm…” He trails off, and you wait. He takes so long that you look up to find him looking at you, waiting, and something in his eyes has you stuck there. He searches your face, and then he says, “I’m sorry that I made you think that I don’t love you back. Because of course I do.” 

Your heartbeat has begun to roar in your ears again. “You do, present tense?”

Vernon freezes, eyes wide. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally settles on something. “Shit. Sorry, fuck, I—”

“Is that a yes?”

He inhales sharply. “Yeah — yes. I don’t expect anything from you, though. I promise I’m not —“

“You are such a fucking idiot.” 

He doesn’t hesitate. “I know. I know. I’m—”

“I spent so long figuring out how to put myself back together,” you say softly, and he cuts himself off. You can feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids again. “Without you.” 

Vernon’s shoulders sag, and he nods, looking down at the water. “Yeah.” 

Your breath catches before you steady yourself and you say, “It’s literally always been you, Sol. Even though you’re a fucking idiot.”

His eyes are wide when they shoot back up to meet yours. You inhale a shaky breath, watching as he waits, unsure. 

“It’s still you,” you add quietly, and you’re certain that you hear his breath catch.

“I’m in love with you,” he breathes out before you can say anything else. “I love you back. I did then, and I do now, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I wanted to, I swear. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m…” He trails off, a hand running through his hair as he finishes, “I’m just really fucking sorry.”

“I believe you,” you say softly, because you do. You believe him, and you’re not sure your heart has ever beat this fast. Because he loves you — the same way that you love him. Vernon looks down at the water again, and you think you can see the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks as he thinks. “Sol?”

Your soft voice makes him look up. He still looks uncertain, like he doesn’t know what he’s allowed to do. 

“Come here?”

You’re in his arms so fast you can barely process. He’s hugging you so tight against his chest that you can feel the warmth of him through your wet t-shirt, and it sends shivers down your spine. He doesn’t say anything else as he holds you, and neither do you. Your arms are wound around his neck, and you can feel the way his nose nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. 

You pull back, your hands finding either side of his face. He blinks, slowly, taking in every part of you in the same way that you’re taking in every part of him. You brush away a stray drop of water that falls from his hair down onto his forehead, and you’re certain you’re dreaming. He’s so beautiful, a perfect juxtaposition of sharp edges and soft lines, so… Vernon. 

And he’s gazing at you like you hung all the stars in the sky — because he loves you, in the same way that you love him. 

For the second time in a year, you kiss him first.

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the sixth of our Thirteen Valentines in honour of Bononie’s birthday. Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)

[tornado1992]

Miles doesn’t hate his tails.

No matter how much the people in his town told him to.

Even if every time he tries to play close by the village he gets chased and practically hunted down because some scary adults want to “hang out his tails on the wall”.

Even if the mothers pry their children away from him so they won’t “get cursed by the mutant”.

Even if his first memory is running from some big kids who chased him away from a store for eating some scraps from the garbage while yelling “Two tailed freaks don’t even deserve trash!”

The only apparent difference between him and the people who hate him being the number of tails, or rather, the not singularity of his.

It seemed like the reason why they all despised him was because of them, an abnormality, was the kindest way they called them.

They kept saying his tails were bad. But it didn’t made any sense. His tails weren’t bad. They kept him warm on the coldest nights, shelter him from the rain, and protect him from the town’s kid’s fists.

They were his only company and comfort, his blanket and pillow, and they were the only thing he had. He couldn’t hate them.

It didn’t matter if they were the apparent reason for his loneliness and the town’s rejection, Miles knew that even if he could cut one of them the townsfolk still wouldn’t want him.

His tails were big enough to cover him almost completely, protecting him by curling around him and not letting go even when the fur on them was ripped, torn, or burned. He could chew on the tip of their fur when his stomach hurt too much not to try and bite something, even if the matted fur on them might hurt sometimes. He didn’t have any toys or coloring books, but he could always play with his tails whenever he felt too lonely, he would chase them and they would not go away, sometimes they moved on their own when he was playing, he didn’t know why, but whenever it happened it made him feel a little bit happier, even if it meant as potential risk of him being found by his abusers if they moved when he didn’t tell them too, it still made him happy.

He could hug his tails while sleeping, pretending someone was actually there with him, if he concentrated enough, he could pretend the fur that was keeping him warm wasn’t his own, he could imagine it was maybe a loving mom, a caring dad, or… anyone, but he could feel loved.

He didn’t hate his tails.

Everyone hated him, and that might not have a solution, but everyone also seemed to hate his tails. He knows how it feels when everybody hates you, he doesn’t want his tails to feel like everyone in the world hates them too. So even if it’s just him, even if no one else ever likes them, and even if some day he dies because someone hated them enough to do something about it, he won’t hate his tails.

He doesn’t think anyone could love his tails ever, and he doesn’t know if he is capable of loving them himself, but liking them should be enough. He hopes his tails can understand.

He hopes that at least his tails could feel a little bit of love some day.

[devildomditzy]

Mammon SFW A-Z

🎂Happy birthday to my beautiful jpeg husband

🎂 I ain’t even gonna lie this is so rushed 😭 but I wanted to get something out for his birthday in time!

🎂 This is more so based off of OG game Mammon and not Nightbringer Mammon

🎂 SFW besides some cursing

🎂 A-Z template by tumblr user @/the-coldest-goodbye

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He has a very hard time showing affection in a public setting. Even in front of his brothers, he sometimes panics - getting all red in the face - which usually ends with him denying his feelings for you or outright insulting you (why would he want to be with a stupid human anyways?, etc.)

In private, he is the most annoying motherfucker you have to peel him off of you most days. Earlier into the relationship, it was shy touches mixed with blushing. Now that you’re comfortable with each other, you have 0 personal space. Because hey, what’s yours is his - and that includes your bubble, right MC?

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

We already know the answer to this one, as he was literally written in game to be the ‘best friend’ archetype. Mammon starts crass and rude, acting like you’re a bother and he’d rather be anywhere else but next to you. Your friendship starts once Lucifer assigns him to be your guardian. Though he acted like he hated it, Mammon quickly became fond of you. Now you’re his inseparable partner in crime.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

The minute you are home from RAD and you both have changed out of your uniforms, he’s pulling you into his room, on to his bed, and not letting go of you. Sometimes he doesn’t even wait for you to change. He’s clingy, okay! Why would you wanna be anywhere else but layin’ with him?

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Mammon already feels like you are. His home is the HOL, with his brothers. And now, his home includes you. It’s his ideal scenario.

Plus he doesn’t have to pay rent.

He can be good at both tasks if he actually applies himself, but only seems to do it if you specifically ask him to. If Lucifer asks him to cook or clean, the room still feels dirty and everything is burnt. You almost think he does it on purpose.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Listen-

He literally couldn’t.

Once you and Mammon are together, he can’t see a future without you. He can’t see his life without you.

If it was ever broken off, it would be a scenario where he means well, thinking you would be happier or safer, generally better off without him.

But he is greed and even the thought of it upsets him to no end.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The boy cried watching Cinderella ofc he wants to get married! But he couldn’t imagine to whom until you came into his life. Something just clicked for him. You’re his best friend, his partner in crime, you’re his. I don’t think it would be quick, as a matter of fact he’s way too tsundere for that. But he’s sure once he’s ready, it’ll definitely be you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

It depends! So we know he’s the second strongest, so in that regard if he wants to be he can be far from gentle. But when it comes to you and his brothers, he consciously trying to be softer. Emotionally? Boys a wreck. A huge softie. Please hold him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Once again, please hold him. Even if he acts like he hates it sometimes, your hugs are something he looks forward to. When he feels awkward in public he’ll give you one of those weird barely touching you side hugs. But in private? Have fun trying to get him off you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

So we know canonically when this happens (I believe it was around end of season one of the og game?) and we know he says it plenty after that. We don’t have an exact way to know how much time passes between episodes, but you can assume it took about a year as that was the end of MC’s exchange program originally.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ooooooooh while he may not be like Levi embodying envy, when it comes to you he’s ridiculously jealous. He’s your ‘first’, remember? If it’s something that’s making him jealous relating to his brothers (i.e. hanging out with someone other than him), he’ll pretend he doesn’t care to the point of being a giant dick about it, inadvertently showing he actually does care a lot.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Honestly? Most of the time they’re timid and shy. He holds you in the highest regard, he adores you though he may not show it very well. You still make him blush like crazy and his stomach still stirs every time he looks at you.

Other times they’re possessive and passionate, he is the avatar of greed after all. But really, his style depends whether or not you take the lead.

His favorite place to get kissed is the neck/collarbone area

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Another one we canonically know! He’s great with them. He probably the most emotionally intelligent of his brothers and actually cares greatly about the things that matter to him. His brothers and you are everything to him, but that little girl back in the human realm that he takes care of? She means the world to him too. He’d be devastated if something happened to her. Meeting you, the thought of having your own child pops into his head every now and again, and it makes his heart melt. But whether or not you have children is something he leaves entirely up to you, not pressuring or pushing you about it. All in all, he’s a natural at taking care of them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

If it’s a school day, most the times Lucifer forces you both to sleep separately in your own rooms. He’ll knock on your door at the same time everyday to walk you down to breakfast with the others, and then off to school. It’s very routine.

If it’s a lazy day, or a weekend, he’s clingy. Have fun trying to get him out of bed, and if he has anything to say about it, you won’t be doing anything productive either.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

School nights are spent having to be separated most of the time per Lucifer’s rules which Mammon says are ‘totally unfair’ and ‘dumb’ and whatever other negative thing he can think of. But he’s going to call you. Relentlessly even, if you don’t pick up right away. He’ll talk your ear off into the night until one of you falls asleep on the other line of the phone.

Weekend nights are spent out on the town, he wants to go to places like casinos and The Fall, so if you let him drag you along too, he’s elated.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Since he puts up such a front with his feelings, it’s hard for him to get really mushy or personal. Once he begins to trust you more (and fall for you) the speed at which he tells you everything quickens, and he becomes an open book.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He seems to be easily angered by his brothers teasing him, but knowing him as well as you do, you can tell he’s never really actually mad at them. He could never be. The only time you’ll see him actually get mad is if something happens to you or one of them.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’ll pretend like he doesn’t remember every single little detail you’ve told him, but mentally he’s taking notes every time you open your mouth. He hangs off your every word, so he knows things ranging from general facts about you to your most deep, personal secrets. And he won’t forget a single word (even if he may act like he did)

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Mammon’s favorite moment in your relationship was your first trip to Devil’s Coast together. He’s honestly not even sure if you considered that a date, since you were actively looking for Lucifer and Diavolo, but he certainly does. No. 2’s commentary didn’t help at all. He gets embarrassed when he thinks about it, but he loves it all the same. He keeps the picture you took together in his wallet.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He was literally assigned to essentially be your own demon bodyguard, so yes, he’s very protective of you. At first it was because it was an obligation, then it was because he was intrigued with you, and it quickly morphed into because he’s in love with you.

He’s shocked anytime you stand up for him or defend him in anyway. He’s not used to his brothers defending him in conversations, and is surprised to see you do it. Honestly, he feels like he doesn’t deserve it because of how much he looks down on himself. And you’re this tiny human stepping up to the plate, sometimes risking your life for him? Honestly he finds it hot.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

The most try hard that ever tried hard. Even if he tries to pretend what he’s doing for you is a favor, or the gift he got you was nothing special, it’s always something ridiculously couriered to you and your tastes, or something you physically said you wanted out loud. You could have said you wanted something three months ago. A year ago even. But he’ll always remember and always make sure you get it one way or another.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He’s literally the avatar of greed, so obviously there’s that. He can lose control sometimes when it comes to grim, or his obsession with both his belongings and with you.

But, I think Mammon’s worst bad habit is how negatively he thinks about himself. You’ll always need to check in on him from time to time to make sure he’s not spiraling in his mind. But when he does, you’re the best person to pull him out of it.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s concerned to a degree being a model and all, but definitely nowhere near Asmo standards of vanity. He’s the kind of person who always looks good without trying. The most effort he’ll put into anything is his outfits, especially if it’s an outfit he’s wearing to go out with you. Besides that, he’s not too concerned.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

His world would shatter.

Now that he’s met you, and now that he’s almost lost you countless of times, he could never ever see a future for himself that doesn’t have you in it.

He doesn’t want any future without you in it.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He goes through your things. With good intentions of course!!! Why would you think anything else??

Okay maybe at first it was to sell your stuff. But now that he’s with you, he only does it to see what you’re into at the moment so he can gauge the best gift he can get for you, or what date he can take you out to.

He lives for the sparkle in your eye that you get when he does that kind of stuff, so while not an amazing thing to do, his looking is not malicious.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like people who are assholes for no reason. Sure, he can see why someone would act aggressively if he knows the why they are, but if they’re just doing it to do it or for some self serving reason, he dislikes them.

And though he is a model, he also doesn’t like people who are too full of themselves. He’s already got an Asmo at home, why would he need another one of em’?

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He is terrible at falling asleep.

And even worse at waking up.

He becomes accustomed to staying out late or just talking to you late into the night, so his sleep cycle is horrendous.

Once he does fall asleep, have fun trying to wake him up. We all know how great that went for Levi when he was trying to get his figure back :)

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever started a project, thinking it was going to be a quick one-hour thing, only to have it expand into several weeks of complete misery? You haven't? Boys, get over here. We found us one of them replicants wearing a human face. Put them in the vat with the others.

Now that all the unpleasantness is over, we can dish about how awful our hobbies are. I've always been drawn to the small, intricate jobs in life. Fiddly stuff, things where you have to really be paying attention. Being awake enough to notice a strange sound, or a joint that doesn't quite go together right, is the only way to avoid an intractable crisis later. I think it's because I derive a lot of pleasure when it all falls into place and the damn thing works.

A couple years ago, I told a friend that I would really love to build a ship in a bottle. All that precision really appealed to me. Feeding parts one at a time through a tiny neck and assembling this beautiful work, made even more beautiful by forcing it to be pointlessly difficult.

He responded by telling me that nobody actually does it that way. What you do is you build the ship outside of the bottle, with the sail wrapped around it, and then you push it into the neck and use a piece of string to pop the sail back up once it's fully in there. I got really angry. So angry that I left the room, drove to the hospital, and "borrowed" one of their precision microsurgery robots for two rage-spittle-covered days straight to assemble a replica of the Emma Maersk inside a 500mL 7-Up bottle, but by the time I spitefully showed it to him he had completely forgotten about our conversation.

So, if you're like me and trying to stretch out a hobby to the point where it becomes no longer enjoyable, don't stop. Evaluate your motivations, though. Find a reason to do it out of spite. That'll keep you warm on the coldest nights of wondering what exact part in this billions-of-parts arrangement has decided to conk out long before you were even involved. And if you know a wealthy shipping magnate who wants to commission a bunch of weird-looking little boats inside pop bottles, you know where I am. Unless you're a replicant. That'll cost extra.