#i thought it was supposed to be pain relief that shit hurt so bad

[elytrafemme]

also look a lot of stuff went down when i was high and i should have expected some of it but was seriously nobody going to tell me about the pain because like that was INSANE to experience

[sweetimpurity]

☽༓･˚⁺‧͙ day 11! yayayy! I blacked out for this one 🥵

wc: 2.2k cw: bondage, breeding ;) enjoy!! ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Shit…” He sighs. Running a hand through his hair, the talons peeking out slightly. They’ve been coming out and going back in all day, little pin pricks aching at his fingertips. Sensitive when he touches anything, pissing him off. Like he can’t control it. He’s been cooped up in his office all day. 

“Lyla. Update.” He demands in monotone, brow furrowed and focusing on the levels and charts on the holographic screen in front of him. The hovering pixels refresh as the levels increase and decrease. Numbers calculating. “They’re on their way back… just finishing some cleanup.” She replies. Hovering over his desk before settling, ‘leaning’ on a coffee mug from a few days ago. He hasn’t done anything, hasn’t eaten or drank anything since you left on that damn mission three days ago.  He should have remembered. That this specific time would have him aching for you. And now you’ve been gone. It’s his own damn fault and he’s been beating himself up over it. Feeling heavy, feverish, angry. He’s been tracking his levels every hour. Hormones and brain activity. Why must his warped genetics plague him in this way?

“Lyla I…I thought the serum was supposed to help…” He sighs, brow twitching, eyes closing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It will… but you only took one dose. It’ll be more effective after a few more.” She replies. Watching him with a raised brow. His behavior. 

He sighs again, a slight growl in the back of his throat. Pacing back and forth on his platform and crossing his beefy arms, like trapping his restless hands under them. Finally sitting down in his chair. His legs spread wide. It’s the only way with the pressure in his loins. With the need to be released. He’s in rut. As embarrassing as it is. And you’re not here. It’s like the perfect storm. 

“Oh- just landed…” Lyla chirps, popping up by him and displaying the portal chamber surveillance footage right in front of his face. Too close to his face, lighting his angry features up in a yellow glow. “Lyla!” He growls, trying to grab at her pixelated form. His hand went right through. But his eyes finally land on your form. Walking through the main portal alongside some other spider people. The team he sent you with. You’ve just entered the building and he can already smell you. Your pheromones. You’re floors and floors down and he’s already getting hard. The pressure in his suit tightening. “Lyla. Go.” 

She giggles. Floating around, teasing him. She’s all too familiar with his behavior by now. She puts up with so much. “Have fun, bossman…” She snarks, her hologram dissipating in front of his frowny face. A huff of relief leaving him once she’s gone. Leaving him alone. Waiting for you. 

He groans. The ache. His cock hard and hurting for you. Glancing over his shoulder at the door. Not yet. His hands go down, cupping his erection, only to whine softly at the pain he inflicts. Just the smallest of touches and he’s keeling over in his desk chair. “Ay… Fuck…” He sighs. Sharp canines biting down hard on his lip.

“Heyyyy!” Your voice breaks through the silence of his office. Your scent is stronger than ever when you push the door open. The stimulation goes straight to his dick, like it’s begging for your heat. Begging to be soothed in your slick warmth. Desperate to fill you up. To mate. To breed you. 

“Oh my god, you should have seen me out there… I was pretty good if I do say so myself… got the bad guy and all that. Even got a few common crooks while we were staking out…” You explain, jumping up on his platform. Bringing the box of equipment to his desk and setting it down. It’ll need to be cleaned and assessed. Some pieces to be fixed before they go back in rotation. 

His eyes darken. Watching you walk by. He’s glad you’re back. Of course. He loves you. But his mind isn’t on that right now. Right now he’s thinking about how good you’d look swollen and full of his babies. Full of his cock. Dripping with his potent seed. 

“Ben was a perfect alternative, he stepped in and really helped us out… Peter thought so too…” You keep going. Going over everything that happened over the past few days. “That’s… good…” He manages to say. His voice low and hushed, a croak. Watching your back, your ass. Moving from behind the chair, standing a few feet behind you now. He swallows hard. 

You glance up at his screens. He must have been busy as always. Keeping himself busy. Your hands slow down as you place machinery pieces on his desk from the mission supply. Spider senses tingling. 

In a matter of seconds, he’s pressing up against you. His chest against your back and his nose burying in your hair, in your neck. Inhaling your scent. His hearing picks up on the rise in your heart rate. The way you react to him. 

“Missed me, hm?” You hum, smiling and leaning into him. 

“More than you know…” He huffs. Pressing himself into your ass. Letting you feel just how needy he is. Your suspicions were correct. It’s that time again. Your senses never let you down. 

“That’s good because I missed you…” You whisper. Coaxing him. Leaning your head back on his shoulder. Letting him grind into your ass. Rubbing his erection into the soft plushness. And you hear the releases of breath from his lips, like he’s been pent up so long. “I love you…” He whispers by your ear. One of his big hands wrapping around, splaying across your tummy, imagining himself burying deep, all the way to your womb. 

“I love you too…” You can’t help but smile, rubbing back against him, hearing the slight hiss at the back of his throat. “Remember that…” He hums, something of a warning. The words stir something inside you. And you know what’s to come. This kind of fuck only comes once in a blue moon. Because normal Miguel would never allow himself to be so cruel. 

“Remember.” He hums in your ear. Turning dials on his watch this whole time. Smashing the screen and your suit instantly retracts. The confrontation of the cold on your skin makes you shiver. It’s too much for him. Your scent is stronger than ever. His dick leaking and crying to be inside you already. A strong hand on your back pushes you down to the desk. Tits smooshing and tummy contracting on the cold glass surface. A shiver and gasp filling your body. His hands work fast. White stringy webs leaving his wrists. Letting them bind and wrap around you. Working them around your torso, across your breasts. His webs, decorating your skin, wrapping you up. He wraps them around your wrists like ropes, only stronger, harder to break. Beautiful web designs scatter along your arms, wrapped around your body like a fly in a spider’s web. Like you’re the spider’s final meal. A loud thwip and he’s mounting webs on two opposite walls, letting it connect to your arms and spreading them wide. You can’t escape, you can barely move. Hanging, dangling, ever so slightly. With only the desk under your belly for support. But then there’s his hands. 

His big warm hands, suddenly bare of his suit. His dark tanned skin, fingers running up your hips, down your ass and delivering a gentle smack. Making you whine. Your pussy aching for him at this point. And he can smell it. He can smell your slick, he can almost taste it in the air. Like a drug he knows by taste alone. It’s taking all his willpower not to pound into you just yet. But the rut does not cloud his judgment to that extent. He could never forget that he loves you and would never dream of hurting you. Tying you up in his webs, that’s a different story. 

His hand wraps around, fingers running up your slit, parting your folds and collecting your slick on his fingers. Bring the fingertips to his mouth to wet them further, tasting you and groaning. “Oh baby- fuck so good… so so good…” He mumbles, his hand going back down between your thighs and running along your slippery sex. His fingers teasing your hole before plunging inside. Making you shiver and shake. Pulling on the webs you’re restrained in. One finger, then two. Dripping down his fingers and onto the desk. His hormone levels are off the charts. His mind going crazy. Wanting to come. Wanting to spill his seed but needing it to be inside you. He won’t waste it. He needs to get you pregnant.

“Oh Miguel!! Ah! Mm-ngh…!” His fingers work their magic, bringing you to glorious orgasm. Your juices dripping down his knuckles as you moan and whine. The webs straining and tensing under the pressure of your pull. Panting for breath, your knees pulling up and hitting against the edge of his desk. Bent over, tied up and needy for more. 

When you come down from the high, his fingers pull free. Bringing his fingers to his lips. He’s quiet. In a trance. Hazy and half gone and he hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet. His eyes flutter and roll back at the taste of you on his tongue. Sucking on his fingers ravenously and you can only hear the sucking sounds mixed with his groans. Crimson eyes blowing wide, bashing his watch for his suit to disappear entirely. Instantly grinding his hard, pulsing dick along your puffy pussy. Teasing his tip around your entrance and sucking on his fingers like it soothes him. Pacifies his ache even a little bit. 

“Baby- babe you want… I want- you’re so good, baby, taste so good…” He murmurs incoherently, whining. Pushing his cock through your folds, up to your clit, making your toes curl, knees drawing up. Wrapping your hands around the webs binding you. “Ngh just take it all, okay? I’ll fill you up and-and… and… Dios…ah, te amo tanto… no puedo vivir sin ti…” He whimpers. The softness of your pussy against his needy tip makes him crumble. Keeling over and pressing his mouth to your shoulder. Massaging his dick through your slick. Savoring the feeling for a moment longer. “Ay mami…” 

He bites down on your shoulder. Using his fingers to guide his cock to your core and slipping in. His brain short circuiting at the tight wet pressure. “Fuck!” He growls, instantly spurting hot white. His voice hoarse and needy. Grabbing your hips in the front and pushing in all the way to the hilt. Pushing you up the desk, the webs straining as your arms pull. His body practically mounting yours. Stretching you out on his girth in one go. Pulling a shrill cry from your lips, moaning at the warmth flooding your belly. “Ngh-Miguel! Ohhhh….”

“Oh yes…” He hisses. Finding relief in final release. Who gives a shit if he didn’t get two pumps in before it happened. He’ll pump you with much more cum before the night is over.  

He pulls back, drawing aching whimpers from your lips. Trying to soothe you with kisses to your shoulder blades, your neck. Collecting your hair into his hand and gently pulling back. Moaning as he does it. And he plunges back in, molding you around his cock. Slipping in easier with his cum loosening you up. “T-todo lo que siempre he necesitado, mami…” His sweet words make your heart flutter. His face tucking into your neck from behind as he pumps into you.  

Moaning as he pulls back again and thrusts back in deep. Working up a rhythm, holding your hair back. His other hand wraps around to your clit, rubbing with tenderness in a stark contrast to his powerful pumps. Webs straining, the tension threatening to break the strands as you cry out for him. Legs shaking and trembling. His own moans are broken and hoarse. Full of need and desperation. All he can think of is filling you up. His cum, his DNA tainting you, mixing with yours. Making babies. Lots of them. The image of you full of his children makes him crazy. “You’ll be such a pretty mami, baby… so pretty, so so so…” He pants. His hips slapping your ass with every push, like wild animals in the jungle. His spider half taking over completely. Your soft whimpering moans fill his ears. His words shooting right to your core, making your eyes roll back and gushing on him. Crying out for him and the webs snap! Your arms dropping and you’d fall flat on the desk if he didn't grab you in time. Pulling you to his chest, pumping into you even faster. Climbing up on the desk and kneeling down for leverage. Pushing your body down to arch for him. Pounding into you with unending power. Even after you come, he doesn’t stop. Pulling one more trembling orgasm from you before he’s spurting once more. Filling you just like he promised. Finally stopping with a huff. His mind mostly gone but there’s part of him left, just for you. 

“You okay, mama? Look at me…” He whispers, turning you over gently. Admiring that look on your face. That fucked out smile. “Te amo… needa make sure it sticks…” 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[icejjfishesz]

009. ༺ALWAYS, ALWAYS༻∘

a/n: last chapter why am i kinda sad, lol😬

summary: after getting unexpectedly left by your roommate, you find yourself in need of a replacement.

contents: happy ending 🥳. smut (am i going to hell for this? idk probably). reader is damn near mute at the start. they're both so very down bad. l-bombs. this is almost double the length of the other chapters so y'all better love me.

previous. next. masterlist.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

she half expected you to shut the door in her face. she wouldn’t have blamed you if you did — but you didn’t. you opened the door and you’re listening. 

what she thought she could get from olivia, that same thing she’d been craving and fighting for years, she gets so easily with you. just by your eyes meeting hers. you’re looking at her again — albeit in annoyance and hurt — but it’s still you and it’s still her. how it’s supposed to be. and there it is again. that feeling she had been uselessly chasing with olivia –– that pull. a feeling she only gets with you. she’s addicted to it. the way her heart begins to beat faster, how her eyes seem to be fixated on your pretty face, the way her body reposes in the wake of you. she feels so alive when she’s near you. 

she whispers your name, unlike the last time you’d heard her say it –– guilt ridden and shameful –– she says it in pure relief. her shoulders visibly relax when you don’t shut the door on her. she visibly relaxes at just the sight of you. as if her time away from her took away her ability to breathe and seeing you again, right in front of her and beautifully you, gave her back her air. 

“she isn’t you…” paige repeats, longing for you to say something. anything.

“what do you want me to say, paige?” you roll your eyes. “you want her? go have her.”

“i don’t.” she shakes her head, stepping forward, close enough that she could almost feel that familiar warmth of your body again. “i want you.”

her gaze disrupts any calm you might’ve felt. her words cleave the quiet. it leaves you silent. completely silent. 

“you were right. i was running…because i was scared.” she swallows thickly and you pause. she was scared? “but i’m not afraid anymore. i’m done running. i’m here and i won’t leave again. never again.”

“scared of what?” you almost don’t recognize your own voice, too in shock to process your words before they leave the gap between your lips.

“of this.” she gestures between the two of you. “i’ve never felt the way i do when i’m with you before. i just want another chance. i want to be yours and i want to spend the rest of my life making this up to you.” 

you hold your breath, remembering just how much you missed her. you missed her touch, her smell, her face, and the way she looked at you. you’re frozen at her words, at the tender look of desperation she gives you but you shake your head despite yourself. “i can’t be with you if you aren’t sure…”

the statement makes her heart sink. she had brought this on herself, she knew that. but it didn’t make it hurt any less. she doesn't like that she was the source of your anguish, it pained her. she’ll do anything to take that pain away. 

the frown on your face said it all; that she’d hurt you, that you were upset, and that you cared about her. that’s what she had relied on. it gives her the courage to reach out and touch you, to give herself that closeness she’d been craving since the minute she left. she grabs your waist and smiles at the way your body recognizes her touch. “i’m sure.” 

suddenly your mouth felt dry. sure, you had played this exact scenario over and over again in your head but you never expected it to actually happen. so you stay silent, desperately searching for words that never leave your mouth. 

“baby, i promise. i’m so sure. please.” she stresses, she’s sure. 

you’re staring at her, in shock and heart pounding, having a mental debate. holy shit say something. anything. but you can’t.

“just let me fix it…” she leans in, testing to see if you’ll pull away. you don’t. “let me deserve you.” 

you nod, finally able to speak again. finding yourself unable to deny her –– to deny yourself. “okay..”

and then she leans in more, letting her lips take their place on yours. she pulls you even closer and you walk backwards into the apartment, paige shuts the door behind herself. she pulls away from the kiss to smile at you. 

“i love you…” she whispers and you pause again, body almost malfunctioning. she what??

paige takes your silence as discomfort and immediately backs away from you with widened eyes. “oh…um, i’m sorry –– i mean, it’s true but you don’t have to say it back or anything i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i just, fuck.”

you grab her hand, smiling softly at her. every hair on your body standing in the wake of her confession. “i love you too…”

at that moment paige feels almost every emotion; happiness at your words, anger at herself for running from this, guilt because she had hurt you. but you kiss all those thoughts away until her brain can only ideate one concrete picture: you. always you.

she can’t help it, she grabs your face and presses her lips to yours again. your kiss is hesitant. on one hand, she doesn’t deserve to taste you after what she’d done to you. on the other hand, she tastes so good. fuck, she taste like yours. 

she wanted to atone, to show you that she’d realized the error in her ways. she wanted you to forgive her completely for letting her fears hurt you. because you taught her something she’d never dreamed of learning before you. you taught her how to pay homage. 

“you know what else i missed?” she whispers in your ear making you laugh despite yourself. paige could always take the edge off. always able to make you laugh no matter the circumstances.

“i’m sure i could guess…” you let your hand reach underneath the hem of her hoodie so you could feel the bare skin of her waist.  she laughs too, with her whole chest and it’s beautiful. you’re just staring at her, basking in her euphoria and your heart swells. you’re in love bad.  “you’re so pretty…” you mumble, unable to stop yourself.

she smiles wide, all teeth and red cheeks. “stop…”

you shake your head. “no…you’re my girlfriend now so i can call you pretty as much i want to.”

her grin only seems to widen if possible and you can’t help but mirror it. “i love hearing that…”

“yeah?”

“mhm…i love hearing pretty much anything you say but especially that.” she kisses your jaw and you bring your hand from under her shirt to the back of her neck. “my girlfriend…” she whispers in awe and it makes you laugh again.

she starts to kiss your neck and your laughter immediately ceases. you also missed the sex. a lot.

you hold onto her for stability as your breathing quickens. “you never…told me what that other thing you missed was?”

“thought you were gonna guess?”

“i said i could guess.” you hum, pulling her face from your neck so you could hover your lips over hers. “but i wanna hear you say it.”

“well, you just forgave me so i wasn’t sure if it was a good time –– ”

“what do you have against makeup sex?” you tilt your head and she laughs. she doesn’t respond immediately but she places a chaste kiss on your mouth before she sucks in a breath.

“your room or mine?”

you don’t even answer her question. it doesn’t really matter, but hers is closer. you kiss her again as you back into her bedroom. 

she always liked being this close to you. close enough to hear your heavy breathing and to feel the warmth of your skin under her palms. she pulls you even closer. she gently pushes you down onto her bed, straddling you. “did you miss having me like this, baby?”

you shudder, nodding. “mhm…” and then you take a good look at her attire. “are you hot?”

she smirks. “you tell me.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re annoying.”

paige chuckles but nods. “yeah…normally it’s cold as shit in this apartment but for some reason it’s literally hell in here.”

“ac broke. and you’re kinda overdressed.” you lay back on her comforter, rubbing her thighs. “i’m surprised you didn’t say anything sooner. you love to complain.”

“i just got everything i want…i have nothing to complain about.” she smiles and then groans, not thinking twice about taking her hoodie off. “gotta get that fixed, babe…” she starts kissing up your neck and then tugs at your shirt for you to take it off.

you lift it over your head with a hum before laying back down so she can resume her kisses. “yeah. maintenance guy comes tomorrow.”

“good.” she nods in acknowledgement. “take off your pants.”

“i wanna touch you first…” you whisper but paige just shakes her head.

“no…i want to give you a proper apology.”

you chuckle. “well, i’m not gonna say no.”

you watch her body in anticipation as she climbs off of you and slowly takes your pants off. she settles between your legs, locking her arms around your waist to keep you pressed firmly down into the bed and your breathing quickens. she kisses your stomach and then both your thighs, sucking little reminders into the soft flesh so that you can remember how she felt tomorrow. it makes you squirm but her grip never falters.

“stop teasing.” you buck your hips but she holds you there. that’s another thing you loved about paige. she’s so strong. when she finally does put her mouth where you want it, she’s lazing about it. but still exact.

she eats you out with precision only a woman begging for forgiveness could have. you can’t help the sounds you’re making but you’re far too turned on to be embarrassed by them. 

it’s all you can do to slump in her hold and just watch her, the way her mouth devours you and the way her eyes watch your every reaction. the sight is so lewd you could cum from just watching her work.

“feels so good…” you mewl, clinging to the bed sheets so hard your fingers cramp. she looks up at you, reaching for your hand to lace your fingers with hers.

she knows it does. she learned exactly how to please you and she was proud of that. she knew exactly how you liked it.

she knows when you’re about to come. almost before you do. she makes sure to continue doing exactly what she’s doing because she knows that’s what you’d be begging her for if you could speak right now. but she’s happy all you can do is be pretty and take it. take her apology and cling onto her.

she rides it out for you, only pulling away when you’re too sensitive for her to keep going. she smiles at you. it’s smug.

“shut up…” your chest is heaving and there’s a thin layer of sweat coating your skin. she feels almost prideful that she did that to you. she gets the sudden, intense desire to touch you so she does. she reaches up to caress your cheek. 

“so beautiful…” her voice is starstruck again and you chuckle tiredly. 

“enough.” you whisper tiredly. “come here…your turn.”

she slowly moves closer to you, you lick your lips when you notice how red she is. how turned on she is just from pleasing you.

you help her out of her pants, and then you sit up so she can straddle you again. she hovers over you and you stare at her for a moment. “what do you want?”

she knows better than to be shy about it. she trusts you too much to be shy about it. “your fingers. please.”

you can’t help but snicker.

“please? when did you get manners?” 

“i’ve always had manners.” she mutters.

“you sure about that?”

she nods, eyes sparkling at you and you poorly attempt to bite back a smile. 

“cute…but save it for azzi or something.” you chuckle before you circle her clit with two fingers. she immediately groans and the sound is mesmerizing. “feel good?”

she nods again and you don’t even try to hide your smile this time. “how good?”

she sucks in a deep breath when you pick up your pace a little. “really good. don’t stop.”

“wasn’t planning on it.”

“i kinda expected you to get me all worked up and then leave me like this as punishment.” she half laughs, half whimpers.

“hmm…i didn’t think about that. maybe i should just –– “ you slip your fingers away from her and she whines but you chuckle softly. “i’m just kidding…i’d never do that to you.”

“and miss a chance to torture me? i don’t believe you.” she can barely speak in full sentences with how good your hand feels on her. 

“and miss a chance to see how pretty you look when you come?” you mock her tone of voice when you rebuttal.  “never.”

she moans, something she rarely does and this time it’s your turn to be smug. she hides her face in your neck, embarrassed by how quickly you can weaken her.

as much as you want to make her look at you, you don’t want to embarrass her further so you just move your fingers harder against her.

“you smell really good…” paige mutters in between soft moans and then she cringes. “sorry, that’s probably weird to say right now.”

you dismiss her, fingers never changing pace. “no…it’s okay. thank you. you’re really sweet when you wanna be.”

“i’m always sweet.” her voice is practically slurred as she starts to feel the knots building up in her stomach. “i’m so close…”

you keep going until her legs start shaking, pulling your hand away from her and kissing her sweetly.

she pushes you to lay down again so she can wrap her arm around you and cuddle you. for a moment, you’re both silent. just settling in the afterglow, kissing softly here and there and smiling at each other. until you speak.

“you know…” you pant against her lips, she rubs your thighs and hums as you pull away slightly to talk. “i’ve wanted you since you moved in here…”

“yeah? why didn’t you say anything?” she chuckles, pulling you impossibly closer.

“i don’t know. so many reasons.” you stare into her eyes, meeting her smile. she leans in to kiss your jaw and then whispers in your ears. 

“name a few.”

you roll your eyes, they’re all obvious. “olivia for starters –– ” she groans, hiding her face in your neck which makes you laugh. “plus, i didn’t wanna rock the boat.”

she shakes her head, pulling back to look you in the eyes. her voice is pure silk when she whispers softly, “from the moment i first saw you…that ship sailed.”

you snicker, putting a hand over paige’s face. “cheesy…”

“you love it.” she kisses your neck again. “you love me.”

you nod in agreement but that isn’t enough. most likely, it never will be. she lets her hands trail your waist exploratorily. “say it.”

you shudder at the command in her voice. even if you could deny her, why would you want to? 

“i love you...”

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Yoo I was wondering if you could write a fic with a FtM reader with a poly relationship with Felix and Changbin. It could be purely fluff but if you want it could lead to smut :> Of course take your time with writing it.

JUST THE WAY U R

Paring: Felix x Changbin x FTM reader

Genre: Slight angst, Fluff

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: Sorry for the delay, I wanted to write this as best as possible.

M/n, a member of the famous K-pop group Stray Kids, was curled up in the fetal position on his bed, clutching his lower abdomen in agony. His usually bright eyes were bloodshot from the pain, and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. He hated this. He hated the way it hurt, the way it made him feel weak, the way it made him feel like a freak. No one knew about this, not even his two boyfriends, Felix and Changbin. They loved him, he knew they did, but they didn't know the secret he had been carrying around for years.

M/n was a female-to-male transgender, and he had gotten top surgery. It was supposed to make him feel more comfortable in his own skin, but it hadn't helped with the periods. They still came, still made him feel like shit, still reminded him of the life he had left behind. And now, as he lay there in pain, he couldn't help but wish that he could just get rid of them altogether.

His two boyfriends, Felix and Changbin, were both in the next room, talking in hushed tones. They had noticed something was wrong and had come to check on him. They were so sweet, so caring, but they didn't know the truth. They didn't know about his past. And he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell them yet.

M/n's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of their voices growing louder. They were coming into his room, concern etched on their faces. "Love, what's wrong?" Felix asked, kneeling beside the bed. Changbin moved to sit behind M/n, resting his hands on his shoulders.

M/n took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for their reactions. "I-I got my period," he stammered. "It hurts really bad." There, he'd said it. The words were out in the open now. He braced himself for their judgment, for them to tell him that they didn't want to be with him anymore.

But instead, Felix and Changbin's faces softened. They exchanged a look before turning back to M/n. "Oh, love," Felix breathed, reaching out to gently stroke his hair. "I'm so sorry. That must hurt so much." Changbin nodded in agreement, his expression full of sympathy. "We're here for you, no matter what."

M/n felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't expect them to react this way. They didn't seem disgusted or angry or disappointed. They just looked worried and concerned. A tiny, hopeful part of him began to wonder if maybe they could still love him, even with this secret.

"Here," Felix said, carefully taking M/n's hand and pressing something warm and soft into it. "It's a heating pad. It should help with the cramps." He reached over and placed another object on the bedside table. "And I brought you your favorite food and drink. You should eat something, love. It'll make you feel better."

M/n looked up at Felix, his eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you," he whispered. "You don't have to take care of me."

Felix smiled gently. "Yes, we do. We love you, and we want to make you feel better. Now, why don't you eat something, and I'll help you with the heating pad?"

M/n couldn't help but smile back, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Okay," he said, taking the food and drink from Felix. As he ate, the warmth from the heating pad began to seep into his lower abdomen, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. It felt so good to finally be comfortable.

Felix and Changbin continued to hover over him, making sure he was okay and offering words of encouragement. They told him that it was normal for trans men to still get periods, and that they would always love him no matter what. M/n couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. Maybe this wasn't the end, maybe they could still have a future together.

As the pain began to subside, M/n found himself growing more and more aware of the affection they were showing him. The way they looked at him with such love and understanding, the way they touched him so gently, it was all so overwhelmingly sweet. He couldn't help but feel grateful to have them in his life.

The afternoon passed slowly, with the three of them curled up on the bed, watching movies and sharing bites of food. It felt so nice to just be together, to not have to hide any part of himself from them. M/n couldn't help but marvel at how comfortable he felt with Felix and Changbin. They were the only ones who truly understood what he was going through, and they never once made him feel ashamed or alone.

[seneitut]

omg, I adore your fic!! it was such a nice read. felt so bad for yoru though 😭😭 justice for him

“Redemption”

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Yoru/Reader] [Gekko/Reader]

Words: 2.6K

Tags: Fluff, Jealousy, Cheating (Sorry Gekko), Introspection.

(Okay, this is long overdue and my partner gave me this idea so im sorry for the gekko lovers out there!!!

This two-shots can be taken as individuals stories or a continuation if you'd like. Is up to you!

The third part will a lil bit longer and to spicy things up it will have the nsfw part for the yoru lovers! :])

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

Having no family, friends nor prospects of a lover in Yoru's life made things easier to deal with when the First light happened.

He expected to die, to burn with the rest of the world and disappear as if his life were the flame of a candle, snuffed out of existence and into oblivion—but none of it happened. There was crushing pain and muffled screams while his body morphed and reconstructed times and times again for a new host.

The alterations on his body were an afterthought though, too caught up with the sudden rush of memories from a time he doesn't remember living and powers only he could barely understand. 

There were samurais, there were katanas, people just like him riding horses into the woods and hollering in victory as another battle had been won. 

And then, he saw himself with a wooden mask, a reflection from a broken mirror and distorted with time, fusing until there was only one left: him, standing alone and heaving puffs of breath with difficulty while regaining consciousness.

The mask that was given to him, popping into existence and onto his bare hands, proves that whatever dreamspace he went into was real.

Was it on purpose, or an accident? Not having a clear answer as to the whys and whats, he decides to carry it and use it to chase after its purpose.

The powers that were handed to him, to his relief, compliments how he strides in life now: with carefulness and abrasiveness.

It keeps him safe, in some sort of way, to distance himself from the whole world and out of the spotlight with the many risks it holds. Despite feeling like the main character with the many shit that happens often in his life, stepping down from the top is refreshing, a weight lifted off his shoulders, if you may. 

Because from afar things are easier to deal with.

And it was supposed to be like this, for the rest of his life. Being a loner was his trademark, an asshole to the core and hiding his true colors from everyone’s sight. The purpose of the mask became a secondary thought after the many months roaming the world in search of a truth he couldn't see; and fleeing from everyone began to be his main characteristic instead of his abilities.

No one would be able to hurt him if he escapes from confrontation, and no one would be able to break through his self-imposed walls if he never faces them.

He would not be vulnerable in front of anyone for as long as he lives.

Until you came through. 

Is funny, though, how things developed until his feelings weren’t able to be fooled. Yoru has tried many times to distance himself from your being, impossible to do if you were often forced to interact thanks to Sage’s requests. Whether training or just doing some paperwork together, he inches closer to you despite the clash of his emotions and denial of his own affections.

But it’s not like he complains, although he’s made colorful nasty comments whenever you were in the vicinity as a way to keep you at arm's length, it was all a façade, a trick to keep you on your lane because, deeply, he enjoys your company to a fault.

And somehow, his actions never deterred you from striking conversation or just hanging out with him, despite the many obstacles he's put you through. Is almost like you don’t mind, like you understand the way he is without exposing himself, and he loves that.

He loves you.

You are not loud like Jett, nor as annoying as Phoenix. You are the middle ground where he can enjoy being with you without losing his composure and craves for your presence when you leave. And as much as he wants to avoid talking about what he really feels, there is a limit his emotions can handle until he bursts. 

“You are not the only one after them, rift boy.” 

Yoru should have taken those words more seriously if he wanted to pursue something with you. To approach you, to court you properly, to ask you permission to call you by your name in private, to ask for affection even if it embarrasses him.

Anything his culture taught him went straight down the toilet with one look at your eyes and soft smile, freezing him on the spot and making him unable to make a move on you. 

Whatever restraining he has is thinning the longer you talk to him, the more you worry for his well-being and look after him. You treat him with such care and love without disregarding or treating him as if made of glass, but with respect he thinks he deserves.

That only amos his need to kiss your stupid face until he feels like he can’t breathe anymore, perhaps take everything you can offer for him and give you everything that makes him Yoru. 

To give you the real person behind the mask, to give you Ryo, instead of Yoru. 

For heavens, he is smitten. He’s down bad bad. Phoenix would make fun of him and Jett would never let this die down if they were to know he’s been reduced to an enamored boy with your attention alone; but would understand where he's coming from. 

And with how bad he deals with his own emotions, Yoru thinks he would need all the help he can get to figure out how to transmit these feelings, and who’s better than his own comrades? Because, despite everything, they are his friends, right? He knows he doesn't need to say anything for them to notice how often he looks at you, how much he seems to crave your attention, how lost or upset he looks when you interact with others that aren't him.

But in the end, none of it was important anymore. 

You are Gekko’s, and Gekko is yours. 

When the news spread around the protocol, many reactions were found positive; some surprised him more than others, but the majority of the agents were encouraging of the relationship.

It was almost like the fraternization rule has been abolished or forgotten thanks to you two— but he thinks Reyna had something to do with it and her own relationship with Viper to make it advantageous for her protegé.

To his aid, and sympathetic as always, Jett was one of the few who didn't seem pleased with the newly couple, giving brief glances to his direction throughout the conversation unfolding at the meeting room and pursed lips whenever Gekko boasted about you.

Jett has made some sarcastic comments towards Gekko, but he knows she doesn’t wish him any ill and is only protecting Yoru from this enormous defeat.

She's pitying him, and it angers him that he cannot lash out and tell her to stop because he doesn't have the right. Jett has been nothing more than a good friend to him throughout the time he’s resided here, the least he can do is be neutral towards her reaction. There is nothing to be sorry about, and even if he was, which he isn't, it's entirely his fault for not shooting his shot on time.

However your relationship goes, it should be no longer of importance to him. And for that, distance should be made for him to move on and for you to go on with your life. 

Because from afar things get easier.

But you make things so hard to do.

“Yoru,” You call after him, waving slightly when he turns to the kitchen door, “I’ve made some dinner, would you like to eat with me?”

Is hard to say no to you. 

You chat to your heart's content, speaking about this and that with no restraint and running your mouth a mile an hour with no filter whatsoever.

That’s probably what he loves the most about you; the openness in your words and honest actions towards him, with no restriction.

It didn't help the fact that he knows you're not this open but with a few selected people in the protocol. And he, despite not caring at all about your relationship, knows that Gekko is not one of the few selected, but Yoru is.

He shouldn't feel proud of it because that is one side of you he gets to see but others don't. Gekko has the whole thing and it is a matter of time until your relationship develops to something more…intimate. Something beyond what he has with you.

Is painful to think about it. 

“Have you been good since our last mission?” you ask, blowing on your steamed rice. The duelist shrugs absently, toying with a piece of the stew on his plate. There is sadness in your voice, and he tries to suppress the guilt for ignoring you this long. “We…haven't talked since then. It's been quite a while.”

“I wasn’t injured badly,” he replies. “You, on the other hand, I don’t know how you’re standing without recoiling from pain.”

You laugh, a little nervous at his accusation, and his heart beats faster inside his chest, “Sage did a good job on me. But I still have some sore muscles and a few scars I won't get rid of. There is still some phantom pain, but I'm fine.”

“A few scars are normal.” He comments, eyeing your arm with the scarred skin. “It's hot.”

“Hm? What is?” 

Embarrassed, he coughs, “the food, uh, is kinda hot.”

“Oh! That can be solved.” Leaning in, you blow on the current serving on his fork, gentle, to not throw it off balance.

Yoru's breath gets caught on his throat, feeling his face warm at your actions. You smile at him, going back to your seat and wincing when a sudden burst of pain goes through your wrist.

“Sorry, I'm still not used to it.” You show him your arm, right where the worst of the wound had been healed. “The skin is still sensitive and sore, so it hurts a little sometimes.”

Grinning cheekily, Yoru leans, resting his head on his right hand. He knows this is a bad idea, “What, showing me this so I can kiss it better, little minx?”

Yoru wants to rip off his tongue, unable to keep his teasing for himself and regretting the words that came out of his mouth. The intention was never to suggest he do anything, but his mind twisted your action wrongly. You don't seem fazed, though.

“Oh! Can you do that?” Eager with the offer, you approach your chair next to his, invading his personal space and extending your arm to him. “I didn't know you had that kind of power.”

I don't, he wants to say, nervously looking between the offered appendage to your hopeful eyes. They are shining under the dim lights of the kitchen, awaiting for whatever miracle he is going to perform.

Yoru bites his lips, taking your hovering arm by the elbow and his hand intertwined with yours to keep it in place. 

This is wrong. This is wrong on so many levels, he fears anyone will walk in on this position and assume the worst from you, now that you are with Gekko. You don't seem to mind, acting as calm as possible while you wait for whatever Yoru is going to do.

It crashes on him how oblivious you can be sometimes.

“Yoru?”

Blinking owlishly, he leans in, lips brushing softly against the pulse of your wrist. You gasp when he kisses it, marveling at the delicate touch and swooning over something so simple like a little kiss from a comrade. 

When he backs away, he's met with your face inches closer to his, a soft blush spreading over both of your faces is impossible for him to not drown in the sight. 

Yoru gives into his wishes and closes the small gap, tasting your mouth against his for a brief second while chills run down his spine from the nervousness. Despite the food being salty, your lips taste like the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted in his life.

The kiss lasts like a lifetime, both of you melting into each other’s presence and taste, he can almost hear the fireworks bursting inside his chest when your mouths move together in this silent dance. You move your lips slowly and sensually, taking your time to map out every crevice of his mouth and giving him the chance to explore yours with the same intensity and want. 

Making some distance, he leans his head onto the other side, connecting your mouths again and deepening the touch until he feels his lips bruising. His hand finds your cheek, caressing your skin with tenderness, and holds you still. 

Your own hands travel up his neck slowly, feeling him shudder under your touch, and you hold his jaw gently to deepen the kiss. He shudders when he feels your other hand trace his arm slowly, from his elbow to his shoulder, rising goosebumps on its wake, and grabbing a fistfull of the clothing to ground yourself and deepen the kiss.

Is this what he's been missing out on? He questions himself, letting out a gasp when your hand tugs at the back of his hair. Is this what Gekko tastes everytime he kisses you?

Gekko...

Fuck.

Yoru takes distance so fast he thinks he might have gotten whiplash, finalizing the kiss begrudgingly and a panicked look on his face. His cheeks are still flushed after the make-out session, and that is such a sight for sore eyes in your opinion.

“Don't tell anyone about this.” he whispers, eyes looking down to your lips unconsciously. “I’m sorry.”

If you heard him, you don’t show signs of understanding. On the contrary, it seems that whatever trance he is under right now, it affected you as well.

Yoru backs away before he acts further without thinking; he's done enough of that already. 

Finishing the dinner is an easier task to do, to keep his mind occupied and not think about what the fuck he just did. Cleaning what's dirty is an excuse for him to not cross any words for the rest of the evening, too afraid you might ask him to never be close to you for his attempt. 

When he bids you goodbye, you smile softly and wish him a goodnight without mentioning what just happened. He is thankful for that, Yoru is not sure he is ready to process what he has just done.

The walk towards his room is quiet and quick, heart pounding inside his ribcage and a headache approaching with the promise of severing with how much he’s stressing over this.

Thinking about you, thinking about the issue with his feelings and the overall lack of restraint when it comes to teasing is giving him a hard time. The kiss made things harder to handle, because this act only severed things within your relationship with Gekko and himself.

Is it worth to keep holding onto this love when the person who should receive it is already in love with another man? Not to mention he just kissed you on purpose despite knowing you were taken already—no matter it was because of an impulse, the damage has been done and it was irreparable.

The answer used to be clear before this dinner. He was ready to give it up and move on, to embrace the fact that he lost despite realizing he didn't want to take that route.

The kiss gave him false hope and sealed his decision that he really didn't want to let go.

What a mess.

[hedgehog-troops]

Jegulus - Too Much.

“...I can be too much and I don’t want to subject you to that”

Just as James finished his speech Regulus leant forwards pressing a short, but strong kiss on his lips.

“I want to be subjected to that” said Regulus and James? Oh James might just pass out from the relief he feels coursing through his entire body.

“I want you when you’re happy, I want you when you’re sad. I was you when you’ve won, I want you when you’ve lost. I want you when you laugh, I want you when you cry. I want you when you’re first, I want you when you’re last. I want you when you’re innocent, I want you when you’ve just pranked the entire school. I want you when you’re angry, I want you when you’re calm.

I want you when you’re playing cards in the common room, I want you when you’re hexing Snape. I want you James, not just parts of you and don’t you dare think otherwise. I really like you, not just the happy you, not just the you that show everyone. I want the you which you are when in front of a whole crowd and i want the you which you are alone. And I’ll never stop wanting you, not the sad parts, not the angry parts, not the happy parts, none of it. I’ll always want you James, just so long as you’ll have me. Give me your heart and I’ll make it mine in a way you’ve never known before.”

Before James could register what he was doing he had ducked forward andstarted kissing Regulus.

Hands tangled in the other’s hair, they make up for all the lost time they spent loving each other but never expressing.

Or well, that’s how it was supposed to go in James’ head but of course life could not be so sweet.

“...I can be too much and I don’t want to subject you to that”

Regulus raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “Are you done now?” he asked, a bored expression on his face.

James feels tears rise to his eyes as he slightly nods his head.

“I did not even fucking ask and you just dumped that shit on me, i do not care whether you think that you can be too much sometimes because for me you’re too much all the time–”

James knew that.

Of course he knew that.

He’s been told to shut up enough times, but hearing it from the boy he loves hurts in a totally different way, it slices through his body and goes straight to his heart, effortlessly tearing it into pieces.

“–if it were up to me I’d never even want to see you again, let alone want to fucking be with you. I wouldn’t even want my worst enemy to be with you. The only reason that I tolerate you is because of Sirius. You and your dumb pranks get on my nerves, you and your habit of talking so loudly gets on my nerves. You and your ability to take whatever is mine gets on my nerves. You get on my nerves, so fuck off.”

James doesn’t know when he started crying, but he is now because it hurts so bad.

Having the love of his life tell him that he was such a bloody nuisance hurts.

James has never fallen for anyone the way he fell for Regulus.

Regulus is his it person.

But James? James is just a pain in the arse for Regulus.

Through his blurry vision he sees Regulus’ lips curl in a smirk and it makes him want to hide.

He remembers how he used to admire that smirk whenever it made an appearance on Regulus’ lips.

Now he just wants to hide.

“I'm assuming my brother doesn’t know. It truly would be a tragedy if he found out that his best friend, platonic soulmate, broke one of his strict rules of not dating family members.”

James starts shaking his head wildly because Regulus already hates him; he doesn't want Sirius to do so too.

Regulus lets out a malicious chuckle which has James curling up in himself, despite nearly having half a foot on Regulus, he was making James feel like he was the size of an ant.

Maybe that's how much he is worth to Regulus.

Probably even less.

“I guessed you wouldn’t want him finding out, stay away from me now or else i will not hesitate to let the entire wizarding world know.”

James nods as Regulus leaves.

James has read books which describe heartbreak and he always thought that they over exaggerated it but no, he gets it now how it feels like you soul has been crushed and you heart beaten to pulp with a sledge hammer and yet, yet you’ll give up your life for them to be happy.

Let them walk all over you for a smile on their face, hell James would let Regulus say all of that all over again and worse just to see him.

James’ knees buckle as he slips down the wall and down to the floor.

He hugs his knees close to his body and rests his head on his knees.

Silently crying, his worst fears have been confirmed now.

Life can be cruel.

So cruel.

[enid-rhees]

hi :) could you do a enid x reader where reader gets injured on a run and enid helps them recover? (you can decide the injury) thank you and have a good day/night/evening!!

oooo i love this. also this was way longer than i intended but i had a whole story in mind so i hope you don’t mind !

pairing: Enid Rhee x Fem!Reader

warnings: injury, bit of angst. one suggestive joke.

genre: angst and fluff

the abandoned supermarket was unfortunately littered with walkers inside. your face fell to a frown when you realized you would have to clear all of them out.

it was only supposed to be a short run with just you and Rick to find some food. Hilltop was running low on canned goods.

“how should we do this?” you asked Rick. he took a look back inside and stared into the glass, staying silent as he thought of what to do.

“lets try this; i’ll attract them to the door. i’ll open it and let one out individually, and you kill it. we’ll do that until it’s clear.” he explained. you nodded once, “sounds good.”

Rick walked over to the two glass doors. he raised his fist and tapped on the glass a few times. slowly, the walkers started to crowd the door. “ready?” he asked. you nodded once more and took out you knife.

he opened the door ever so slightly, letting the first walker stumble out. you grabbed onto its shoulder, driving your knife straight into its head.

you repeated that for almost 10 minutes, and the parking lot had been filled with dead walkers everywhere.

“okay, find whatever you can. any amount is good.” Rick told you.

the two of you separated in the store, hoping it would quicken the process so you can head back home. you carefully stepped over stray bodies, taking your time to examine every scrap of food on the shelves.

you managed to find only a few useful products inside the store, while he barely found anything. but like he said, any amount was good. you stuffed them in the bag he brought along.

“check the back room down there, maybe there’s still food in boxes.” he instructed, pointing in front of him towards the one door.

you made your way over to the door, slowly opening it. once it seemed clear, you walked in, searching for any boxes.

as you took a few steps forward, you felt something grab your ankle. you flinched upon first reaction, causing your ankle to twist in what felt like a whole 360 degrees. you let out a loud yelp as the pain coursed through your entire leg.

losing your balance, you fell back. your body landed on the cold, hard surface. your mind blocked out the pain from the fall as a walker started to reach for your broken ankle.

before you could try and kick it off you, Rick ran in. he rushed to lean down and kill the walker.

he didn’t waste a second in pulling you up so you could stand up straight. another cry left your lips as your ankle touched the floor. Rick looked down at your foot before looking back up at you with wide eyes.

“what happened?” he asked you. his voice wavered, you could tell he was trying to remain calm. “i think it’s broken.” you managed to get out. “the walker grabbed onto me and as i jumped back, my ankle twisted completely.”

“shit.” he hissed under his breath. “we need to get you back. Siddiq can patch it up.”

Rick slipped his hand over your shoulder and you grabbed onto him as he helped you get back in the car so he could drive back to Hilltop.

the pain worsened every minute and you tried your best to hide how bad it truly hurt. you bit your cheek to try and cancel out the pain until you got home.

the ride felt longer than it actually was. your mind raced with thoughts, anything to distract you from the pulsing pain.

“we’re back.” he informed her. she let out a breath of relief. thank fucking god. he got out first to run over to her side and help her out.

the people at the gate rushed to open it once they realized she was hurt. he brought you inside and immediately took you over to the small building Siddiq used to treat everyone.

“Siddiq!” Rick yelled. “we need you out here. Y/N’s hurt!” rapid footsteps started to approach them. but it wasn’t Siddiq’s, it was Enid’s. you felt her heart drop a little once you made eye contact with her.

you knew Enid had started to help out Siddiq in the office, but you didn’t think she’d be helping today.

“oh my god.” Enid choked out, looking down at your slightly crooked and swollen ankle. “she’s not- you’re not-“ she started, trying to think of coherent words.

“she’s not bit. her foot is broken.” Rick was quick to reassure. she took a deep breath and nodded. “i’ll take it from here.”

Rick left and Enid helped you into a chair. “what the hell happened out there?” Enid immediately asked once it was just turn two. her eyes were wide and frantic as she stared into yours.

Enid stood up and ran around the small building, trying to gather all the necessary supplies. Enid lifted your up and you hissed at the first initial touch. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. walker grabbed onto my ankle and when i flinched back, it broke. it had a grip on me and the way i turned my body caused it to just… snap.”

Enid picked up a roll of bandages, trying her best to be as gentle as possible with you. “this is why i should’ve gone with. fuck.” she mumbled to herself, concentrating on your foot.

“it’s okay, Enid. at least i’m still alive, yeah?” you cracked a smile, hoping it would bring one to Enid’s lips as well. she frowned looking up at you. “you’re right. but you’re still hurt.”

“how does it feel?” she asked you, lifting up your ankle again to test it. you winced, but it was a bit better than before. “better.” that put a smile on Enid’s face.

you watched with adoration as she put away the medical supplies she used on you. she looked so perfect doing this job. you knew she loved it - helping other people. you were more than happy for her when she told you she started to help Siddiq. it was a job that was made for her.

“i need to get you back inside. you need to rest.” she said, breaking you out of your trance. you looked up at her, your eyes staring into her green eyes. they were so mesmerizing to you.

before you could try and stand up yourself, Enid took it upon herself to lift you up in her arms. she was holding you bridal style.

“what the hell are you doing?” you laughed, wrapping your arms around her neck to hold yourself. “carrying you. you think i’m gonna let my injured girlfriend walk? what kind of girlfriend would that make me?”

you scoffed with another laugh. “okay, okay. whatever you say, love.” you watched her face turn red at the small nickname.

she got you inside the building and walked into your shared bedroom. she tried to be as careful as possible when laying you back down on the bed.

“i’m not made of glass, y’know. you’re treating me like that one guy from Spongebob.” she bursted out laughing, gently slapping your shoulder.

“you’re such an ass. i’m trying to be a good girlfriend here! would you rather me throw you on the bed?” your eyebrows raised with a teasing smirk.

her smile dropped, “i didn’t mean it like that!” she exclaimed profusely, waving her hands in front of her. it was your turn to burst out laughing. “just messing with you, Enid.”

she grabbed a pillow from the side of your head and placed it under your foot to keep it leveled. afterwards she placed an ice pack on top of it. you assumed she got it from the doctors building.

“do you need anything else?” she asked you. there was genuine concern laced in her voice, and it made you feel warm inside.

“can you lay with me?” you asked softly. she didn’t need to be told twice as she crawled into your bed next to you, wrapping her arms over you.

“thank you for taking care of me.” you said quietly. “i feel a lot better. genuinely.” she pressed a kiss to your head, letting her lips linger there.

“wouldn’t want to do anything else. i’m just so happy you’re okay.” she told you. she leaned her head down, connecting your lips. “i love you.” she whispered against your lips.

“i love you too.” you smiled, pressing one more kiss to her lips.

[hoiststowline]

aftermath

Roy Harper x reader

[a/n: a bit of swearing ahead.]

You should care a little more, since the relief basically pours out of you when the tell-tale sound of the front door opening resonates, then closes.

Instead of rushing to greet him, you continue sitting just out of his immediate vicinity, just to make him sweat a little.

Yet, your back was starting to hurt, and it was beginning to become very uncomfortable to be out on the fire escape for so long.

There’s a muffled shout, and it’s a fair assumption that he’s trying to untie his boots while standing, likely on one foot. There’s a thud, the another, afterwards he begins his lap around the small apartment.

“y/n?”

You hear him the clearest when he opens the bedroom door and sticks his head inside, but you wouldn’t dare turn around and give up your hiding spot just yet.

“y/n?!”

A little more frantic as he’s down the hallway, and you sigh into your palm, ready to stand up and give up, when the bedroom door kicks open and the redhead is running across to you.

“y/n!”

It’s warbled by the closed window, but faster than you’ve ever seen him move, he slides the pane upwards and begins climbing out after you.

“Did you not hear me yelling for you? What the hell, y/n, I thought something happened to you.”

He’s sitting on the sill now, just in his socks and the rest of his uniform. His hat was on backwards, red curls coming to frame his face, as he shoots you a look.

“Sorry, didn’t hear you.”

You shrug, shoulders jumping up, then down, as you turn back around, not able to see the look he’s giving you.

“Yeah, that isn’t gonna fly. What’s wrong?”

Your legs kick, as they dangle off the fire escape, unable to really process any kind of real sentence to articulate best what you were feeling. Roy joins you, in the obviously small space, shoulder to shoulder as his legs slip through the thin metal railing.

“I…oh. You’re mad at me.”

His chin comes to his hands, as he try’s to real back through what he possibly could have done to fuck up this bad. You didn’t seem livid, just very upset, so he isn’t quite sure what route to take here.

“S’not you, Roy.”

You shuffle, turning away from him even as he inches closer. You’re desperately fighting the feeling of pain your stomach, the metal of the grate almost becomes unbearable underneath you.

“I just wish you’d take better care of yourself, that’s all.“

“What’s that supposed to mean? I am, y/n, I’m not chasing after stuff I know I can’t handle.”

“Today is Tuesday.”

You finally gather the courage to spin around and stare up at him, not in the slightest bit feeling sorry as guilt overcomes his features.

“No it’s not! Today is Monday, today is—“

His eyes flick down to your phone, watching as it lights up with a new alert.

Tuesday, March 7th, 11:53 p.m.

His heart sinks, as you go to stand, you’re tugged back down to the ground as his words stick in his throat.

“I fucked up, I fucked up big time. I know sorry isn’t worth shit, but please, y/n, you gotta believe me. I thought it was Monday.”

Tuesday had become a holiday. Tuesdays to you, were like a celebration, the one day of the week where both of you were home to enjoy each others company. Lately, though, days had gotten shoved around, and there was little time to breathe anything other than hello, and goodbye.

So, when it had been a good while since a healthy Tuesday, you and him and planned for a long time to make today, a day for just the two of you.

You never would have imagined to waking up to an empty bed, and hours full of voicemails, wondering just where he ran off to, and why he wouldn’t answer your calls.

“It’s not about that you forgot, Roy.”

Sure, it still stung, and it didn’t mean you weren’t upset, but, you’d be able to see past it if it was a genuine mistake. However, it’s the fact that he’s crawling back in the apartment at nearly midnight on a ‘Monday’, is what makes your skin crawl a bit.

“It’s what I said before. You need to take better care of yourself, this isn’t healthy. You need better rest, you need time to breathe and relax—“

You are cut off by the sound of a siren not far away. To your surprise, his eyes remained on you, awaiting the rest of your sentence. You had expected him to try and break his neck as to locate the sound, but he doesn’t move a muscle.

“I know, y/n, believe me, I know.”

He sighs, picking at the skin on the back of his hand as he continues after you failed to.

“I wish it was different, I wish I was better. I can work on it, I promise. I can’t guarantee I won’t mess up in the future, but hell, you’ve dealt with my bullshit for far too long.”

“It’s not dealing with it. I’m here because I care, and I want to be,”

You stand, feeling your bones ache as you finally peel away from the cold metal.

“We can work on it, together. Let’s just get inside, yeah? I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, alright.”

When he stands, it’s very clear the size of the fire escape was made for no more than one person. He was practically on top of you, waiting for you to go back through the window, when you turn to face him one last time.

“I love you, Roy. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“I won’t forget. Love you too, all the time, all day, every damn day.”

His hand comes to nudge you inside after he catches you shivering, quick to get you into bed and into his arms.

[thanksitsatraumaresponse]

Time…

They say time cures all things. Time will heal you. They lied.

Time is against me and I am sick of waiting for “time”. The time in my life when I will be at peace. The time in life where I won’t be completely fucked up in my head and thoughts.

My trauma will never allow me to be in meaningful relationships without constant fear of being hurt, abandoned, used, or replaced. World disasters don’t scare me. Drones from aliens/our country/other countries don’t scare me (I live in NJ). Everyday relationships scare me. Giving people the opportunity to be able to hurt me scares me. Feelings scare me. Interaction scares me. Feeling loved and the fear of having it go away terrifies me. Having the fear of being used and not loved terrifies me. Giving myself to someone, what little bits and pieces of her I’ve managed to find and having that piece of myself shattered, terrifies me. Too many bad experiences, traumatizing and brain altering experiences.

And the sick part is that if anyone does something even remotely similar to remind me of a traumatic event, Sybil is in armor ready to charge and burn shit to the ground (Sybil is the name I’ve given to to the beast I become when triggered) and she usually does. Vigorously. Now that situation that was a mole hill? Bitch it is Kilimanjaro now.

Welcome to life with CPTSD, where your brain does funky shit in the name of trying to protect you 😬 I made this shit blog I think over a year ago in hopes of “sharing” my experience… you see how well that’s going with how many posts I made. Is it my brain running from acknowledging the fire I am tirelessly working to put out? Or is it undiagnosed ADHD? Or just momentary hyper fixation to distract me from the real monsters in my brain that would eat me alive?

Anyway, let’s fucking try this again. Who knows… maybe my rants will help someone not feel alone in their suffering, because today I do.

Today whooped my ass. The last 3 days have been whooping my ass. Even Sybil’s hands aren’t enough 🤣

Putting aside the fucked up humor/coping mechanism- I haven’t eaten in 3 days. I’ve been diagnosed with osteoarthritis and fibromyalgia and have to eat to take meds to be able to tolerate the pain I’m in. And for 72 hours, I’ve not been able to do that. I look and feel like SHIT. I’ve had several panic attacks and sobbing outbursts. Sleep is terrible due to the pain and nightmares. It’s impossible to get relief. And it’s the fucking holiday season (see my post from last year, you’ll understand the disdain real quick).

But I’m supposed to give it time. And grace. I’ve given it both and I’ve taken the punches and given them. I’m just exhausted from fighting all the time. I’m tired of only being good at being angry and jaded. I’m tired of making so much progress to just feel like shit after a triggering event. I don’t need time, I need a fucking lobotomy or medical induced coma at this point.

~Exhausted Traumatized Divine Creature

PS: Photo of my son, Magnus as payment for reading this rant. He is the goodest boy 😬

[simpleeshea]

On the clock!

C!Wilbur x reader

< previous chapter Next chapter >

Chapter 4.

Go to work, get paid, but not enough.

“It’s Wednesday, my dude!” I burst into the store door, an empty disposable cup of coffee in my hand.

“It is,” Wilbur confirmed, putting his phone down on the counter as he looked up at me. His face contorted into an odd expression before he gave a small smile. “Why does that matter? You religious or something?”

I give him a quick shake of my head. “No, definitely not.” I slide behind the counter and plop myself onto the stool.

“Really?” he muses, “then what’s with the dressy clothes?”

I look down at my attire, it was true that I didn’t normally wear anything this nice to work (not to say that my clothes weren’t nice in the first place.)

I find myself going quiet at his question. Wilbur didn’t mind, he just passively nodded before picking up his phone to check the time. That was something I admired about my and Wilbur’s friendship. We both had shit that went on in our lives, but neither of us ever asked about that. We decided nonverbally to keep our shit lives and our friendships separate. He didn’t know much about my life outside of work and I didn’t know much about his, and that’s how we liked it. So Wilbur didn’t pressure me to tell him how the rent was getting harder and harder to pay or how I had an interview for a second job during my lunch break.

“So,” Wilbur spoke up, “whose turn is it to restock the shelves?”

I looked over at him and groaned. He had a cheeky smile on his face because he knew whose turn it was.

Laughing he pointed over at me, “It’s your turn,” he said in a sickeningly sing-song voice.

“If you don’t shut up, I will literally kill you.”

“Can we get a threat jar too?” he asked looking over to the nearing full swear jars and poking at my head.

I scrunched my nose at him, “I will bite your finger off.”

He chuckled as he stopped poking my head. Wednesdays were Wilbur’s favorite because it meant he got to mock my pain. Wednesdays are the days that I dread.

“Better get to work stocker!” he said sounding far too amused.

I grumbled before standing up from my stool and heading toward the back storage room and grabbing a clipboard with the list of things that were supposed to be put out today. I glanced over the list before grabbing a few boxes and carrying them out of the storage room.

Wilbur was helping a customer whose card kept declining. I cringed and felt bad for the poor woman because she looked really panicked. Eventually, her card worked and with a sigh of relief, she took her drink and cigarettes and walked out the door.

I begrudgingly popped open the box in my hand, setting it down on the floor, and began to take the contents out of it to place on the shelves.

Wilbur propped himself up on his arm, his cheek resting peacefully on his hand. “You look so funny when you’re mad,” he said with a laugh.

“You just look funny.”

Wilbur reared back in faux pain. “I can’t believe you just said that! I mean I’m genuinely hurt.”

I took my middle finger and shoved it in his direction while my other hand dug through the box.

“Twenty-five cents.”

“It was nonverbal.”

“That still counts,” he argued.

I look up at him, completely fed up with his nonsense for the day and I hadn’t even been at work for an hour. “Wilbur… I am going to shove my twenty-five cents down your throat,” I smile passive aggressively.

Wilbur put a hand on his throat for a moment, seeming lost in thought before laughing. “Why can’t you be angry like this all the time?”

“Because then I have to deal with you being all smiley and sh- crap,” I awkwardly caught myself before swearing.

“Would you rather I be grumpy?” he asked with a smile spread wide across his lips.

“That’s how you normally are.” I crossed my arms and pretended to mope, “I’m Wilbur and I’m writing a book where I’m the main character,” I deepened my voice and mocked him.

He began to laugh and fall into a giggle fit, banging his hand on the counter as he laughed.

I shook my head as I tried not to laugh with him. His laughs were so contagious.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take that chance to make a jab at my height,” he said as he gained some form of composure.

“Nah,” I waved him off, “that’s too easy to make fun of.”

He shook his head, smiling. I looked down at the box on the floor; it was empty. I bent over to pick the box up and chunked it toward the trashcan beside the register counter.

“Careful where you're throwing that thing. You might take someone’s head off.”

“That was the goal, I just missed.”

“Loser. Get better aim,” he teased.

“There’s always the next box… and the next, and the next, and the next,” I shrugged as I turned on my heel, walking toward the storage room again.

This nonsense went on for a few hours. Wilbur poking fun at me and me just grumbling about it or threatening him in various ways. Wednesdays were a very different kind of day for Wilbur and I. Tomorrow it would be back to normal, I’d spend the whole day trying to find ways to make him laugh or listen to him talk about his book, or tell me about how he tried to cook some meal for dinner which almost burnt down his kitchen. I would never admit it to Wilbur, but Wednesdays were my favorite because those were the days he smiled the most.

—

“And what do you think makes you the most qualified for this position?”

I folded my hands in my lap, trying to keep my legs from shaking too nervously. “I’m a great fit for this position because you will never find someone as much of a perfectionist as I am. Those coffees will surely be brewed to absolute perfection.”

“Right…” the interviewer woman wrote something down in her notebook. “And do you have any experience making coffee? And not just the kind you brew at home.”

My breath hitched. “Don’t put too much creamer kiddo, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“But it tastes betteerrrrrr!”

“Yeah, I have coffee making experience.”

“Elaborate please.”

“Me and my parents make frappes and stuff at home.” I would have corrected myself and put all of that in the past tense, but in all honesty, I hadn’t made coffee with my parents since I was little. They never had time for that when I got older.

“Well,” the woman whose name I didn’t care to learn stood up, “It was a pleasure to meet you and you should get an email in about two to three weeks regarding whether you were excepted into the position.” She held out her hand. I stood up and firmly took her hand in mine, her skin cold like ice. I shook her hand once before letting go. Her expression gave me the vibe that she was the type of person to immediately go and sanitize her hands after touching anyone.

I exited the small back room and left the café. “That could have gone better,” I sighed as I sat down in my dingey Chevy truck and slammed the door. I put the key in the engine and started the vehicle as it revved to life (much too loud for my liking).

“Well,” I looked at the small stuffed animal I jokingly kept in my passenger seat, “Looks like it’s time to get back to work.” I blinked hard as I realized I was talking to a stuffed animal and pulled out of the parking lot to head back to work.

A/n

If you can’t tell, brain ain’t braining. It’s late at shit and I’m tired. Aslo if you couldn’t tell tehn I have absolutely no retail experience. I’ve never worked at a gas station so this is probably all super inaccurate.

Also I’m trying to keep things lighthearted with a few mild dips into your character’s background.

[swag696942069]

Late night clean up

A/N: This is the last thing I'm writing for this years Jegulus week. I know that I didn't mention it in my last two posts but those where both also written for Jegulus week. This is my second year celebrating, but first year actually posting something.

It's a The Amazing Spiderman based Jegulus AU one shot/drabble(don't really know what it's classified as) it's based off that on scene from TASM where Peter goes to Gwen's room and her dad comes and asks if she wants some cocoa.

Tw(s): Mentions of injury, description of injury, a wee bit of angst. I think that's all. Please tell me if it's not so I can add anything that I missed.

Special thanks to @transdorcasmeadows for being my beta for this(and anything else I write)

Now without further ado, I present "Late night clean up"

James had been hit bad. He had a huge gash acrossed his stomach and was bleeding out. Or at least, he thought. He wasn't quite sure, he was a little loopy from blood loss.

The villain had got away, but at the moment, James couldn't really care, he was in too much pain to focus on much else beside finding a way to stop the pain.

He thought about going to the hospital, but quickly realized that he was still in his suit and therefore would definitely be in some deep shit if he showed up at the hospital and had to strip out of his suit for the doctor's to be able to fix him.

So instead, here he sat, outside his best friend's little brother's window.

James wasn't sure what exactly he was doing here. James and Regulus weren't friends, but they had known each other for years. Since James was twelve, actually.

He also happened to be the only person who actually knew James was Spiderman.

So, gently, James knocked on Regulus's window, waiting patiently for Regulus to open it.

Regulus pulled back the curtain and jumped back slightly upon seeing James, who was still in his Spiderman suit.

"What the fuck?" He cursed, quickly opening up the window.

"Hey." James winced, the pain from speaking almost too much to handle.

Without thinking Regulus pulled Spiderman in the rest of the way. "Jesus, what the fuck happened to you?" He was looking down at his stomach, concern clear on his face as he saw the blood. He squatted down next to James on the floor.

"You should see the other guy." James grunted, attempting to sit up.

"God, James, how many times do I have to tell you to be careful? You could've gotten yourself killed." Regulus pulled off James' mask and began to help him pull off his suit, trying to be as gentle as he could as to not hurt James worse.

Once his stomach was free of his suit, Regulus gasped and fell back at the sight of James mangled stomach.

"Holy- oh my- James you have to go to the hospital!"

"I can't."

"Why not?!"

"How am I supposed to explain how I got this?!" James pointed down at his stomach, a purple, bruised, swollen open gash running acrossed his entire lower half.

Regulus was silent for a moment before he got up and walked into his bathroom for a moment, coming back out with a first aid kit and a blood stained towel. This wasn't the first time James had come to Regulus with an injury, it just so happened to be the worst.

Silently, Regulus began to attempt to stop James' bleeding. Which wasn't going so good considering how large the injury was, and how every time Regulus thought he had stopped the bleeding, it would just start back up again before he had the chance to do anything else.

After about five minutes, however, the bleeding finally stopped, and Regulus let out a breath of relief, then began cleaning the wound.

"Thank you." James spoke, breaking the silence between them.

Regulus looked up at him for half a second before looking back down at where he was still cleaning up James' injury. "Sure."

James knew Regulus was mad at him, he just couldn't understand why.

Regulus was always mad at him, but this time it felt different. It felt off.

Regulus continued to clean his wounds in silence until he was all done, then began to bandage him up.

After about a minute Regulus finished up and scooted back a bit to examine his handiwork.

"How does that feel?" Regulus asked, speaking for the first time since their argument earlier.

"G-" James cleared his throat, "Good. Really good. Thank you, Reg."

Regulus opened his mouth to speak, but before he got the chance to, a knock was heard coming from his bedroom door.

"Hey, Reg want some cocoa? Moony's makin' some cocoa." It was his older brother, Sirius.

"Shit." Regulus whisper-shouted before standing up and speed walking to his door.

James jumped up, his injury completely forgotten about, to worried about potentially being found alone in his best friend's little brother's room. Not to mention him being shirtless, his suit still draped down his legs.

James quickly ran to hide behind the love seat in the middle of Regulus' room.

Regulus opened the door with his usual frown on his face. "No, Sirius, I do not want cocoa! Honestly, I'm 16 years old!" He went to shut his door.

"Okay, I just thought I remembered someone saying last week that his fantasy was to live in a chocolate house." Sirius said with a knowing smirk.

"Well that's impractical!" He shut his door. And then opened it right back up to add, "And fattening!" Before slamming his door shut again and locking it before slowly turning back to James.

James peeked his head over the side of the love seat with a smile on his face. "A chocolate house?"

"Shut up." Regulus grabbed a pillow off his bed and threw it at James. Who, even though could've easily caught it, let hit him in the face.

[celebrated-amongst-the-gurneys]

Hello, could I request an angst fic with a male reader and Party (or Kobra!)? something like Y/N gets hurt in a fight between some Dracs and it's just patching him up to holding him while he's hurting? I don't have a preference for really how long it is, or between Party or Kobra :] I hope you have a nice day!

Keep You Safe Tonight

Pairing: Kobra Kid x Killjoy Male!Reader Word Count: 1824 Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Cursing, Uhh...I think that's it? A/N: Did I get carried away? Yes. Yes I did. But as an absolute whore for Kobra Kid, how could I not give this fic all the love? This is my baby, I love it and for being the first thing I've wrote in a long fucking time it didn't come out that bad. Hope you enjoy! Y/K/N = Your Killjoy Name

“FUCK!” Y/K/N hissed as he held his right arm, sinking against the passenger door of the Trans Am. He pulled his hand away, examining the wound from the raygun blast. The blood already began to seep its way through his jacket, the initial shock from the blast had since subsided and was now met with a sharp stinging. In the entire time he had been running with the Killjoys, Y/K/N never once was on the receiving end of a wound. But there is a first for everything. 

“You good?!” Fun Ghoul yelled, head still forward as he fired at the two Dracs that were still blasting their way. “Fan Fucking Tastic” Y/K/N groaned  as he pulled himself to his feet, grabbing his gun off the ground. Now he was pissed. He began firing at the Dracs, his vision going red and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Within minutes they both dusted the Dracs, breathing a sigh of relief as they got back in the car. “So much for an easy supply run.” Ghoul laughed as he started the car up, taking one final look back at the two bodies on the ground just to make sure they wouldn’t have any unexpected guests following them home. He began driving away, the California sun beginning to fade behind the hills. It was supposed to be an easy run, so easy in fact that Party Poison felt like only two people needed to go. It was safer that way, less people brought less attention. “Since when has anything ever been easy–” Y/K/N began before letting out a sharp hiss, grabbing his wound. The adrenaline rush wore off, the pain now taking it’s place. By now, a large amount of blood covered his arm. Ghoul’s face immediately turned into a look of panic. The sudden change caused Y/K/N to grin. “I’m not dying Ghoul.” He said with a laugh, still holding the wound. Ghoul gave a small laugh as he turned his head back to face the road. Y/K/N was calm despite what just happened, and that scared Ghoul even more. 

“Kobra is gonna kill me…” He mumbled. Knowing Kobra, he will absolutely lose his shit. 

—

Kobra was pacing around the diner, periodically looking at the clock. They should be back by now, supply runs never take this long. He was working on a new blaster glove to keep himself distracted, but the mounting anxiety and the ticking of the clock pulled him away from his project as he gave in to his anxious thoughts. 

“They’ll be back soon Kobra,” Jet Star said, his face still buried in his magazine crossword puzzles that he spent the last few hours trying to complete. “Hmm, a corpse reanimated by a supernatural force; an undead being. This should not be this hard.” He said, the aggravation with his puzzle clear in his voice.

“Have you tried Ghost” Party Poison said, reclined in the booth across from Jet, his eyes closed.

“No, this one is 8 letters long.” 

“Phantom?”

“That’s 7 letters dumbass.”

“It’s Revenant” Kobra said, looking away from the window to once again check the clock. Jet let out an ohh as he wrote the word in the little boxes. 

Kobra felt sick. He had a horrible feeling that something bad happened to Ghoul and Y/K/N. Ever since day 1 of Y/K/N being part of the Killjoys, him and Kobra have been glued to each other's side. They would spend hours together, practicing firing and talking about everything and nothing, spending countless nights laying on the hood of the Trans Am gazing up at the night sky, counting every single star. The bond they had soon grew into something bigger, their friendship blossoming into romance. 

At that moment, the sound of a car door closing caused all three boys to immediately stop what they were doing and look out the window, relief setting in seeing their friends get out of the car. But relief soon turned to panic as Kobra saw Y/K/N holding onto his arm. Kobra ran out of the diner and straight to Y/K/N. “What happened!?” He said, his voice a mix of worry and anger. 

“We had a run in with two Dracs on the way back here. We took care of them though.” Y/K/N said, giving an assured smile but knew this would not do much to ease the worry of the other killjoy. Kobra examined his wound, gently touching it and receiving a sharp hiss in return. “Shit- sorry..” He said, his attention immediately shifting towards Ghoul who was hiding behind the Trans Am. “What did I tell you before you two left?” He said, anger seeping into his voice. “Uh, Don’t destroy the car?” Ghoul said with a nervous smile, still hiding behind the car. “No. I said Try to come back in one piece” Kobra said, anger still very present in his voice. 

“And we are in one piece, see? We aren’t missing any limbs as far as I know.” Ghoul said, checking himself to make sure that in deed he was in one piece, earning a laugh from Y/K/N. 

“That’s not what I meant. I meant for both of you to be safe and come home safe. Y/K/N has a hole in his fucking arm!” The anger rising in his voice. Y/K/N put his hand on Kobra’s shoulder, causing him to melt into his touch. “Kobra, it’s really not that bad,” Y/K/N said, his voice calm, despite the pain he was in. Kobra turned his attention back towards Y/K/N, his demeanor softening and the anger in his eyes being replaced with that of adoration. Y/K/N was alive, and that was enough for him.

After coaxing Ghoul out of hiding, the guys went back inside to the safety of the diner, returning to whatever activity they were doing before the interruption. Y/K/N sunk down in one of the booths away from the others, exhausted from the events of the day. Kobra joined him, first aid kit in hand as Y/K/N took his jacket off, the extent of the wound now very visible. 

Kobra began to wipe the blood away, pouring rubbing alcohol on a towel and gently tapped the wound, causing Y/K/N to pull back with a wince. Kobra immediately pulled his hand away, his eyes full of worry. “Fuck-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean..” He stumbled on his words, the last thing he wanted was to cause any more pain. Y/K/N leaned back towards him.

“No, You’re okay, I just wasn’t expecting it to sting that bad. I’m okay now, you can keep doing that.” Y/K/N said with a gentle smile. Kobra got back to work, cleaning up the wound and wrapping his arm in bandages. After the dining room surgery was over, Kobra began packing up the remaining cloth and got up to put the first aid kit back. Y/K/N sat in a daze, fixated on the faded black and white tiles on the floor. 

Y/K/N’s mind began to wander as the reality of what happened sunk in: They could have died today. They easily could have been the ones laying on the ground where the Dracs now lay, everything happened so fast. The fact that this was the worst to come out of it was nothing short of a miracle, he was lucky to be sitting here. Tears began to fill his eyes as the fear he repressed during the fight came to surface now that he was surrounded by the safety of home. He quickly wiped the tears as they fell from his eyes, he did not want anyone, especially Kobra, to see him cry. He always hated crying in front of people, oftentimes saving his tears for the late hours of the night where nobody could see him in his most vulnerable state. But this time was very different, this time he couldn’t help it. His worst fear was becoming a name on Dr. Death’s traffic report, what would Kobra have done? The thought of the boy he loved more than anything falling apart at hearing the report of his death caused the ache in his chest to grow even more.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kobra said, suddenly appearing in front of Y/K/N. He sat down and gently wrapped his arm around the other, Y/K/N leaning into his embrace & burying his face in Kobra’s shoulder. “I’m here. You can cry if you need to.” They sat in comfortable silence as Kobra wrapped his arms around Y/K/N, running his hand through the other’s hair. After a few minutes of silence between the two, Y/K/N pulled away, rubbing his eyes. Kobra gently smiled at the other boy. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stain your jacket.” Y/K/N said, gesturing towards the tear stains on Kobra’s jacket. He laughed, his expression of adoration not changing. 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s just tears. You’re okay. What’s going on?” He said softly, rubbing the other’s arm. 

Y/K/N took a breath, “It’s just the reality of what happened today, the fact that Ghoul and I could have died. It’s…it’s fucking scary. The idea of not coming back home to you guys, not seeing you guys ever again, that feeling is scarier than facing any Drac.”

Kobra suddenly pulled him back into a tight hug, recieving an *fuck, ow!* from Y/K/N. “Oh shit, sorry,” He quickly said, “You’re okay now. You’re home and safe for tonight. I’ll keep you safe tonight. I promise.” He said, rubbing the other’s back and pressing a soft kiss on the top of his head. Y/K/N looked up and leaned in, softly pressing his lips to Kobra’s.

“And Tomorrow?” 

“I’ll do the same every single day.” Kobra said, kissing him once again, the two of them in their own little world, and they never wanted to leave. 

“Wow, you guys didn’t invite me to this cuddle session? That’s Rude.” Ghoul said, popping his head up from the booth behind them, causing the two of them to jump. 

“FUCK OFF GHOUL!” They both said at the same time, causing them to laugh. Ghoul rolled his eyes and got up to bother one of the other two killjoys. 

“You guys are missing out!” Ghoul said teasingly as he walked away.

Kobra and Y/K/N just laughed and went back to laying in each other's arms. Y/K/N looked around the room at the others, Party snoring away, Ghoul harassing a very focused Jet, and then looked back at Kobra with a smile before burying his head back into his chest. Everyone was home and safe, things were as they should be. 

[faofinn]

22. Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

Part 2 to a fic we wrote for our very own MediwhumpMay! Enjoy

Part 1 | Part 2

What he didn’t miss, though, was the familiar face of one of his amazing colleagues leaning over him. “Hey, Fao. Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon, thought we sent you home? Don’t worry, we’ve got you now. Only the best for one of our own. I’ve got some pain relief for you here - oxy, don’t panic, I know what you can’t have - because that paracetamol isn’t going to be doing a lot for you, I’ll bet. Then we’ll get  you checked out, get you to CT, and go from there. Sound like a plan?”

He sighed in relief. “Yeah, thanks.” 

There was a moment of quiet, the nurses' conversations stopping. "For the love of God, please tell me this isn't Fao."

Fao sighed. “I wish it wasn’t?”

"Fuck this. I'm done." Finn muttered. "I'm done, I've had enough of this shift. I'm done."

“Finn!” Fao called out, but it wasn’t like he could go after his brother. Fuck’s sake. 

He took a moment outside the bay to compose himself, swearing under his breath at every deity he knew. With a heavy sigh, he returned to Fao's side. 

"You know when I call you dickhead and that's just your nickname? I bloody mean it this time." He squeezed Fao's hand, stretching to press a kiss to his forehead, brushing the damp hair away. "You're gonna be okay, yeah? I promise."

Fao managed a weak smile, still soaked to the skin and freezing cold. “Nicknames ‘ave gotta come from somewhere.”

"You don't need to live up to them, though."

“Mm, sometimes. Not my fault.”

"I'm sure. Where's the pain at the moment? Still bad?"

“Mm. Getting better?”

"That's good. Did you pass out?"

“No, don’t think so.”

"You sure? You've got a bruise coming up on your forehead, and you're talking like you're concussed."

“Pretty sure I hit my head, but I don’t remember blacking out. Feel concussed.”

"You're gonna be." He sighed. "I can't treat, you know that. The cons is coming, he won't be long."

“Yeah. Is nice jus’ having you.”

"I'll call mum in a sec, too. She can come and be with you." He paused. "You feel absolutely frozen. Have we got a temp yet? Not reading? Why didn't anyone say? Can someone get the bear hugger, please?"

“Mum’s gonna kill me.” He mumbled, as they set up the bear hugger to try and get some warmth back into Fao. It worked, and he definitely felt more comfortable with the warm air on him. 

"I don't blame her."

“Wasn’t my fault.” He protested. 

"I know."

He shifted uncomfortably, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. “‘M sorry.”

"Hey, hey, no. No sorry."

“Mm, still.”

"Just hold on for me."

“Yeah. The person I hit?”

"What about them?"

“They okay?”

"I'm sure they will be."

“Find out?”

"You're my priority."

“Please? ’m fine.”

"No, Fao. You're the priority."

He huffed. “Fine. When’s CT? I want to sit up.”

"As soon as we can."

“Ugh.”

"Don't ugh me."

“Can if I want to.”

"I'll tell mum." Finn threatened. 

“She’ll be on my side, ‘m hurt.”

"She won't."

“Might.”

Finn softened. "Do you want me to get Hars?"

“Shit. I was supposed to be home hours ago.”

"Yeah, he'll be worried sick."

“I left late too. Can I call him?”

"You'll have to use my phone."

Fao realised then he didn’t know where his was. Probably still in his car. Hars would be going mad. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Finn dug round in his pockets, finally finding his phone. Harrison had already messaged him, and Finn said a silent apology to the other man as he rang, passing the phone to Fao. He balanced it by the blocks, loud enough for him to hear. 

Fao practically held his breath as it rang, waiting for Harrison to pick up, probably crazy with worry. 

“Hars? It’s me.” Fao got out, as he heard it pick up. 

"Where are you? What's going on? Why's Finn ringing me? Are you okay?" His voice wavered. "Please tell me you're okay."

“‘M okay, ‘m okay. Finn’s with me. I, uh, I crashed the car, I’m in ED.”

Harrison was silent, the phone failing from his hand. He'd known something was wrong, he'd just felt it, and he was right. This wasn't fair. 

Fao heard the phone clatter, and he winced. “Hars? Tomcat?”

Fao's voice snapped him back to reality. "I'm on my way. I'll be as quick as I can."

“‘M okay, I swear. A bit concussed but…”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "You're alive, we can deal with anything else."

“Yeah. Waiting on CT now, but not so bad. Drive safe?”

"I will. Do you need anything?" He'd already grabbed his Eeyore from the bed. 

Even concussed, Fao knew he wasn’t getting discharged that evening. “Uh, clothes and toiletries?”

"Yeah, I've got the hospital bag."

“That’s all I need. That and you.”

"I won't be long, promise." He said, fighting with the keys to lock the door. 

“Don’t rush, be safe.” He mumbled. “Weather is shit.”

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be careful."

“Thank you. Love you.”

"Love you too, Wolfie."

“Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

"It's okay, it's okay. You called me."

“Always.”

He turned the keys in the ignition. "Thank you."

“I’ll let you drive, yeah?”

"I've got you on speaker, but if you need to go."

“Nothin’ is happening quick.” Fao grumbled. 

"We're doing our best." Finn shot back.

Fao shot him a look. “Shit service here.”

"Don't be mean to us." Harrison managed to laugh down the phone. 

Fao managed a grin. “‘Cause you’re not working.”

"Oh, is that why?"

“Yeah.” He mumbled, fidgeting with his other foot, still uncomfortable. 

"Be nice to Finn."

“I am really. He’s good.”

"He's doing surprisingly well." Finn called to Harrison. "I'm not in charge or treating, but I'm gonna ultrasound your abdo while we wait. I'm not having anything happen because of the delays."

“Mm, ‘Kay.” He mumbled, knowing full well he didn’t have a choice. He just wanted this all to be over, or at least the scan done so he could sit up and get out of the blocks. It was so uncomfortable and he couldn’t stand staring at the ceiling. 

"You're doing really well." Finn praised gently. "I know it's shit."

“Yeah.”

"Let me know if it hurts."

“Mm. Is not good.”

"No? It's hurting?"

“A bit.” He admitted. The painkillers he’d had had helped, but it was still painful. Everything was. 

"When I'm scanning? Or just your leg?"

“Both? It’s sore.”

"Alright, I'm sorry." He said softly. "Can we get some more pain medication please?"

“Thanks.” Fao mumbled, feeling pathetic.

Finn hummed, distracted. "You're gonna be okay."

Fao frowned at him. “‘M fine.”

"Yeah, exactly."

“Consultant soon?”

"Yeah, he's on his way."

“Okay.”

Finn looked past the screen to the nurse. "Can you just chase them for me? Did we have an estimate for gensurg or ortho?"

Fao whined. “Gensurg? No.”

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Page them again. Tell them they've got two fucking traumas waiting." He grumbled, unlike Finn. 

“Finn.” Fao reached up for his brother. 

"What? Lie still, Fao, I'm nearly done."

“Gensurg? Talk to me.”

"Just give me a minute. Try lie still."

Fao made a frustrated noise. It was late, he was exhausted and sore, and now his brother wouldn’t tell him what was going on. It wasn’t fair. 

"Just a minute." He repeated. "Nearly there."

The pain meds they’d given him were starting to kick in a bit now, serving mostly just to make him spaced. It was still uncomfortable where Finn was pressing, but the pain in his leg was more bearable. He wanted to see what was going on, but he couldn’t, and trying to look around just made him dizzy. 

“Fine.”

Finn took a few more minutes, struggling to see what he wanted. He was convinced there was a lac, but it didn't seem enough to rush to surgery. That, and his pressure was maintaining. He gave a heavy sigh. 

"Can we get a space in x-ray?" He asked the nurse, shooting them a smile before moving back to Fao. "Hey, dickhead."

The nurse nodded. “Of course, I’ll speak to them. I just chased CT, they said there was just one more before him.” 

Fao looked up at his brother. “Finished poking me now?”

"Reasonably."

“And? What was the scan like?”

He sighed. "You've got free fluid in your abdomen. I don't know if you'll need surgery for that."

“Fuck, no.”

"You're concussed. You don't have the capacity to make those decisions."

“My capacity isn’t that impaired.” He grumbled. “But I’m not refusing. I jus’ want to talk it through. All you’ve done is talk over me.”

Finn softened. "I was just trying to see what you'd done. I didn't want to miss something and tell you lies. Your leg…your leg is probably going to need surgery too, but you've got reasonable response in the foot, so it's not top of the list.

He hummed. If he was honest, he’d sort of been expecting that answer for the leg. It hadn’t looked great even in the ambulance. “I know, an’ US is hard, but… it’s shit when I can’t see anything and all ‘m getting is half the story.”

"I'm sorry for talking over you. It's hard because you know the words we throw about, and - no offense - you're not quite in the right state to understand how we're using them right now. I didn't want to say anything you'd take the wrong way and kick off."

Fao knew that really, but being able to understand it meant that it was easy to take off the wrong way regardless. He nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah. It’s hard though.”

"I know. I'm sorry."

“It’s shit.” He grumbled. “I had a shit shift, too.”

"Yeah?"

“Didn’t leave until nearly ten.” He huffed. “Wanted my bed."

"That's shit. "

“Yeah. And now I’m here.”

"Now you've got me to put up with."

He managed a smile. “Yeah.”

"Fucking shit trade."

“Exactly.”

"You're not supposed to agree with me!" Finn protested in good nature. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

"Alright. How's that pain now?"

“Bit better.”

"That's good."

“Yeah.”

"Just let us know, yeah?"

“I will.” Fao murmured. “Will you find Hars when he gets here? Look after him?”

"He's an adult, Fao."

“And?”

"And I'll keep an eye out for him."

Fao reached for his brother’s hand. “Thank you.”

Finn took it, squeezing gently. "Always."

Not long after that, porters arrived to take Fao to CT. He really didn’t want to let go of Finn’s hand, but knew he didn’t have much of a choice, biting his lip as he let go. The consultant had arrived by then, and pulled Finn aside gently. 

“You’ve done great, do you want to step back now, let us take over?”

Finn’s anxiety had flared and reached levels he didn’t realise he had. He folded his arms roughly, his jaw set to make him feel stronger than he felt. 

"Am I going to have to leave him?"

“No, you don’t have to leave him. Just maybe take a step back from treating him. I’ll give you the rest of your shift off.”

"You'll have to find cover." Finn murmured distractedly.

“Let me worry about that.”

"Are you sure?"

“Yeah, of course. He’s your brother, we’ll cope.”

Finn sighed. "Thank you."

“Go on, you can go with him to imaging. Is Harrison coming in?”

"Can I go in with him?" He asked hopefully.  

“That’ll be up to them, but you can certainly go with him and ask.”

Relief flooded his features. "Thank you."

“Go on, go and catch up to him.”

"Thank you." He said again, rushing after them. 

They’d been quick to get things set up, awaiting Fao. They’d expected Finn to be there, but hadn’t seen him yet, and so carried on, chatting away to Fao as they did. He did his best to reply, slightly hazy from the meds and the exhaustion. With everything ready, they moved to transfer him across. 

Fao knew full well it was going to hurt, it wasn’t exactly the first time he’d done this, and pressed his lips together, trying to think of something else. It didn’t go well, though, as halfway between the trolley and the scanner he slipped, the slide sheet under him ripping and totally giving out under him. Of course there wasn’t anything he could do about it, and everything hit the bed of the scanner with a clatter, including him. His bad leg took the brunt of it and he couldn’t help but swear, the string of profanity a mix of English and Irish. It was a burst of pain that made his vision blur and his head spin. 

Finn had just pushed the door open as everything went sideways. He froze in the doorway, the nausea immediately overwhelming as it felt like the earth dropped from below his feet. He was frozen in place despite his brother’s outburst of pain, despite wanting to be by his side holding his hand and helping him. Even from across the room, he knew it was bad, beyond bad. Fao had already broken his leg, they knew that, but suddenly there was bone sticking through the skin, and blood everywhere from his pulled IV. He couldn't breathe. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real.

Fao hadn’t seen Finn, the angles just not quite right. What he did know was that the pain in his leg wasn’t getting any better, and there was blood everywhere where his cannula had been ripped out. The swearing stopped, trailing off as the initial shock died down. He felt sick to his stomach, though, his mouth dry with fear. 

“What the fuck jus’ happened?”

"We're going to get you sorted, I'm just going to get the consultant."

Fao whined, trying to exhale slowly and control his breathing, the pain just getting worse and worse. “Fuck.”

The consultant was quick to arrive, pushing past Finn. It didn't look good, not in the slightest, and he pursed his lips. "What the fuck happened?"

“I don’t know.” Fao mumbled. 

“I’m not sure.” One of the staff murmured. “Everything just slipped, I think the slide sheet went.”

"I need someone to page ortho yesterday, and I need as much fucking pain relief as we can get." He snapped.

“He’ll need a new cannula in.”

Fao could feel the blood running down his arm, tickling as it went, and he sighed. It had been a hard enough stick the first time, and now things were ten times worse. All he wanted was more pain relief. 

"You're fucking kidding me." He groaned. "Let's get some penthrox then, someone get a line in.”

“I’m a really bad stick.” Fao said, doing his best to focus on the consultant. 

He shot Fao a smile. "I was warned. We're going to get you sorted, I promise. We'll get that leg immobilised further, but I'm going to get you some sedation too, make it a bit easier for you."

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Fao asked. Whilst he couldn’t see, he could certainly tell. 

"It's not great."

“Fuck’s sake.”

"The surgery is going to have to be done tonight now."

“Where’s Finn?”

"He's…he's just sorting some stuff out." Fao didn’t need to know where his brother really was.

Fao frowned. That seemed fully like an excuse, but he didn’t have the thought processing power to work out what was really going on. “Hars?”

"I'm sure he's here."

“Can I see him?” 

"Let me go see, yeah?"

“Thank you.” He said, forcing himself to take another deep breath and closing his eyes.  

The voices outside were familiar, and more than just Finn and the nurses. He headed out to find Harrison, unsure how he was actually supposed to explain what had just happened. 

Thankfully Harrison wasn’t hard to find, outside talking to a rather pale and worried looking Finn. The consultant cleared his throat, heading over to them. 

“Hi, you two."

"Can you tell me what the fuck is happening?"

He managed a wry smile. “I’ll do my best. How much have you been told? Why don’t we find somewhere to sit down and talk?”

He shot a look at Finn. "He's not been much use, which means it's bad."

“It’s a lot to take in.” The consultant said carefully, glancing at Finn. “I’m sure you know earlier this evening Fao was involved in a collision on his way home from work. He’s appeared a bit concussed, and we’re concerned about a fracture to his right tib fib, as well as potential internal injuries to his abdomen.”

"It's now a fucking open fracture." Finn managed, arms folded tightly. 

The consultant winced. “Yeah, which was what I was getting to. Obviously we wanted a CT, which we’re still going to get. However it looks like there was an incident during the transfer across; I wasn’t there, unfortunately, but, well, there’s no good way to really say this. Essentially he was dropped during the transfer and as a result that fracture is now open. I’m sorry.”

"What the fuck." Harrison muttered to himself. "So, the plan now? Can I go and see him before you get started? "

The consultant nodded. “Plan is get this CT done, then straight to x-ray so we get a better idea of what we’re looking at. Then ortho will be down to see him, but likely he’ll be in theatre tonight. He’s asked for you, so you can go and see him now if you’re quick.”

"Right." He nodded, chewing on his lip. "Look after Finn, will you?"

“Of course. Come on, Finn. We’ll go and get a cuppa.”

Finn nodded slowly. "O-okay."

He put a gentle hand on Finn’s arm, shepherding him away to the staff room, to let Harrison in to see his boyfriend. One of the HCAs looked up as Harrion came in, smiling. “Oh, Dr Cunningham.”

"It's just Harrison." He said softly, moving to Fao's side. "Hey, I'm here."

“Tomcat.” Fao reached out for him, relieved he was there.

"I've got you." He grabbed onto Fao's hand, gripping it tight. "You're gonna be okay."

He hummed, feeling the effects of the meds they’d topped him up with. “They fucked up.” He said, but he was grinning. “Oops.”

"You're in a better mood than Finn is."

Fao frowned. “Is he ‘kay?”

"He's stressed, saw the whole thing, so it's taking a bit of a toll on him. He's gone for coffee with the consultant."

“Oh. ‘m fine.” 

"Your leg got a bit more broken."

“Hurt like fuck.” 

"It's open now. "

“Oops.”

"Oops is right."

“An… an accident.”

"Yeah, but you're okay." He stroked the hair he could. "You're okay."

“Mm. Scan soon.” He mumbled, looking around. “Finn was fussin’.”

"Yeah, soon."

“Bleeding.”

"From your iv you pulled out."He said softly.

He frowned. “I didn’t pull it.” He protested. “But not jus’ that. Inside, Finn said.”

"Ah, yeah. That's why they're wanting the scan."

“Mm. Was prodding me.”

"He's a dick, isn't he?"

“He is.” Fao agreed. “Am I still bleeding?” He asked, trying to see his arm. 

"Ah, ah. Lie still." Harrison said softly. "They've sorted it."

“Oh, okay.”

"Just relax."

“Yeah, relax.” Fao grumbled. 

"Don't grumble at me, Wolfie. I didn't do it."

“Hard to relax.”

"I know it is."

“Sorry.”

"Don't be."

He hummed. “Hate this.”

"I know."

“Can you stay?”

"I'd like to see them try and move me."

Fao managed a smile. “Good.” Then he paused. “How bad is it? Be honest.”

"It's not great. You've had worse, you've had a lot worse."

“The bar is kinda low with that one.”

"That's not my fault."

“No. The opposite.” Fao mumbled. “Can I get a hug?”

Harrison leaned over awkwardly, pressing a kiss to Fao's forehead as he did so. "Better?"

Fao smiled. “Much.”

"Good."

[thorin-baby-bear]

As someone who is a little and selfships with Ash, this blog makes me feel seen and valid because I imagine Ash as my daddy/little one. So, I was wondering if you could write AvED! Ash regressing for the first time, but feels ashamed and scared to tell a masc!reader because of his age and having to be the savior of humanity. But, the reader immediately after finding this out gives Ash their gear (paci, stuffies, coloring books) to use and takes care of him as his Daddy... like giving him a bath, making him dinner, and watching cartoons while cuddling and says how he doesn't have to be embarrassed, because no matter his big age, he'll always be Daddy's little one (I headcanon Ash's little age as 3-5)

🥺🥺🥺 I absolutely loved this ask, thank you so so much :)))) this was genuinely such fun to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it!!

Trust

An Ash vs. Evil Dead agere fic :3

Tags: regressor!Ash Williams, cg!reader, mentioned pablo, mentioned rose

Cw: involuntary regression, light swearing, mention of deadites, panic, baths (please let me know if I should add more ☺️)

Long days were always hard for Ash. His back always ached, and the place where his hand used to be pulsed with a dull pain that made him groan. He usually battled this with some pain medicine, but today there was none to be found, and he really didn’t feel like going to the pharmacy this late, so he would just have to suffer through it. The drive home was rough, every pothole seemed to hit a bit too rough, each stop had him smashing against his belt.  As your small home came into sight, he heaved a huge sigh of relief and pulled into the driveway. 

He stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, not even reaching for the remote just lying there catching his breath. You wouldn’t be home until later that night, so he knew had some time to rest and prepare to put on that good old Ash charm so you wouldn’t worry. My turn to cook tonight, too, he thought, groaning and burying his face in the couch. He stayed like that for a while, taking deep breaths and counting in his head. One one thousand… Two two thousand… 

It wasn’t stopping. In fact, now his legs were starting to pulse as well, making him hiss as a particularly bad wave hit him. Tears stung his eyes and he sniffed hard, shaking his head to stop them from coming through. I may be hurt, he thought, but I will not cry. No way, jose. But suddenly he was feeling very helpless, and the tears that were sliding down his face were hot, and the pain was all encompassing, and his brain was getting oh so fuzzy… 

“No.” He hissed through gritted teeth. “You are an adult, and you will face your issues like an adult, none of this shit.” 

But even as he said this, his teeth had begun worrying his bottom lip roughly, and he found himself reaching out for something to hold, something soft and fluffy and cute– 

He didn’t want this. He couldn’t want this. He was supposed to be the big one, the one who looked after everyone else, but now he was slipping so far, and he couldn’t seem to stop. He tried not to whimper as he sat up, his back aching, and reached for the remote. Maybe somethin’ big will make me big. He thought to himself as he searched for something suitably “big” enough to put on. He eventually settled on Poltergeist before laying back with a huff, ready to wait for you to come home.

>>>>

You walked into your house with a sense of relief, happy to be home at last and spend time with your partner. Then a crash sounded from the living room, and all of your relief was replaced with fear. A deadite? You thought wildly as you inched towards the room. No, Ruby and Pablo proofed the place. Ash made sure. Then what had that noise been? You peeked around the corner and saw a large lump of blankets sitting on the couch next to what looked to be a poorly hidden cracked lamp. 

“... Ash?” You called, blinking at the whine that sounded from the lump. That was decidedly odd. Ash didn’t whine (okay he did, but not like that), and whatever was under that blanket sounded more like a scared puppy than the Ash you knew. You stepped forward, tentatively reaching out and pulling the blankets apart until you saw a pair of wet, scared eyes looking back at you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, and Ash (and this was Ash) yanked the blankets back over his face. 

You frowned gently. “Ash? What’s going on? Did something happen?” 

The lump shook a bit before a quiet, “Mhm,” sounded from within. You waited for a minute before the blankets parted a bit and Ash’s hand poked out and pointed to the tv. “Scary…” He breathed, his voice shaky and pitched in a way that was new to your ears. You turned and saw the familiar end scenes of Poltergeist flashing across the screen. “Poltergeist?” You asked in disbelief. “Scary?” 

The blankets closed again and you heard him whisper a “sorry” before the blankets began shaking again. 

“No it’s fine, I’m just… confused. You love scary movies, especially ones as goofy as this.” You sighed, going to turn off the tv. Only after the sounds had stopped coming for a while did Ash dare to peak his head out of his cave of solitude, his hair sticking up like a baby chick’s and his eyes almost… ashamed? You didn’t think Ash even had the ability to be ashamed. Something was definitely up. 

You kneeled down slowly and held your hands up in a non threatening gesture. “Hey, it’s done, yeah? It’s all done. You can leave the blankets now if you– oof!” 

You huffed out a breath as Ash ran into you, knocking the wind out of you with a hug and burying his face in your shoulder. Hot tears began to soak your sleeve, and you wrapped your arms tightly around him. You might not have known what was happening, but you would be damned if you wouldn’t comfort your love.

“ ‘m sorry!” Ash bawled messily. “I tr-tried to stop, honest! Bu’ it hurts so bad, jus’ wanted… wanted to be small an’ not feel bads.” 

All of the pieces fell into place. Honestly, you could’ve kicked yourself for not seeing it sooner, of course he was scared, he was regressed.  

“Oh baby…” you murmured, kissing the top of his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Ash sniffled and rubbed his face against your shoulder. “Bu’ I’m s’posed to protect you. Every yous.” He whispered hoarsely. You just rocked him gently, knowing that whatever he was thinking right now, you should probably wait till he was big again to address it. Still, knowing all of that wait he was still carrying, even when little, made your heart ache. He deserved to be comforted and have a break just as much as anyone, even if was some kind of savior. And by god, you were going to make sure he got that comfort. 

You stood slowly, lifting Ash and making sure he had a tight grip around your neck before walking up the stairs to the room you kept for all of your little things. You set him gently on the play mat, rubbing some tears off of his face before grabbing a trunk and setting it in front of him. “Alright bud,” you started quietly, “I know this is going very fast, so please tell me if something is uncomfy for you, yeah?” Ash nodded, his eyes red and puffy. You opened the trunk and started pulling out anything you thought could help him be more comfortable. You handed him the soft, navy blue blanket first, smiling at the way he took it so gently before rubbing it all over his face. Then you pulled out a stuffed dog, and the way his eyes lit up just made your heart melt. You had plenty of stuffies, but this one, you decided, would be just for him (if he decided he wanted to regress again). There were lots of other toys in there, but the last thing you pulled out was a small case, which you sat in front of a now very curious Ash who was sucking his thumb a bit nervously. You popped open the clasp to reveal your small collection of pacifiers, watching as his eyes got wide. 

“You can choose any of these you’d like, and then after I sanitize it you can use it for the rest of the night.” You said, looking at Ash nervously. “Does that sound okay?” Ash hesitated, and you felt your stomach drop a bit. This was too much, he was going to go back to how he was before, this wasn’t helping at all, just making it all worse, really. You hadn’t been helping– 

“Dat one please.” Ash said timidly, pointing to a blue deco paci with a shark on the button. 

You sighed in relief and nodded, lifting the paci out of the tray and making sure it was properly sanitized before handing it to him, chuckling as he inspected it before putting it in his mouth and flapping his hands happily. 

The rest of playtime went well, though it only lasted for about an hour before Ash was bored. He pouted at you from where he sat and you looked back expectantly. “Well, what would you like to do then, boss?” You said teasingly, tickling his stomach to make him giggle. You let him go, and he thought for a second before pulling the paci out of his mouth and looking up at you with big puppy dog eyes. “Baf?” He asked. You grinned down at him. “Of course, bud. We can even do bubbles, if you’d like.” Ash let out a small, happy squeal, and lifted his hands out to ask for uppies. You laughed and carried him to the bathroom, rubbing your noses together and booping his forehead. 

The bath was good for wiping all of the grime and bad feelings from earlier away, but mostly it was lots of fun for Ash. You took great care in making lots of bubbles, and Ash looked like his head was about to burst from happiness. You made castles out of the bubbles, you blew the bubbles into the air, and, most importantly, you gave Ash fun hairdos with the bubbles. That was the best part for the both of you. Afterwards, you put him in his comfiest pajamas and set him on the couch with a new nest of blankets. “Movie?” You asked. Ash nodded, leaning against your shoulder as you sat beside him. The two of you decided on A Goofy Movie, something you had no idea Ash even knew about but was apparently his favorite movie. However, it didn’t matter how much he enjoyed the movie because he ended up falling asleep not even halfway through, snoring quietly as Goofy and Max sang about their doomed road trip. Noticing that leaning his head against you like he was couldn’t be good for his neck, you found yourself carrying him for the second time this evening, this time up to your bedroom. 

You lay him gently in the bed, tucking him in before laying down beside him, only pausing for a moment before wrapping your arms around him and sighing in relief as he cuddled into you. You were so glad he had been comfortable enough to even think about regressing in front of you, and now he was actively seeking out your comfort? You were over the moon. Ash made a sleepy sound and you rubbed his forehead soothingly. “It’s alright big guy, get some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up .” You whispered. 

“Okay,” he whispered, “Nigh nigh, dada.” 

You froze, a smile slowly forming on your face. This was definitely one of the best moments of your life.

“Goodnight, baby.” You murmured. He nuzzled deeper into your chest, sighing contentedly as you beamed down at him, absolutely unaware of how joyous you were about that interaction. You both fell asleep, warm, content, with the unshakable feeling of love and comfort enveloping you fully.

Again, thank you so very much for the request, this is one of my favorite things I've ever written for this blog ❤️❤️❤️

[blindedbythedarkness]

Man everything just feels so shit. I mean it IS so shit. Life is an utter dystopia and I'd like to say I can't imagine it getting any worse, but I'm sure it'll find a way.

This is just statewide eugenics and mass murder now. It's not even safe to seek healthcare. It's so incredible to me how we got to this point- I honestly half expect people to point out the hidden cameras any moment because surely so many people can't be this stupid?

That's what they are. Stupid. I'm not supposed to say that outloud or on any of the social media where I'm even halfway identifiable. It wouldn't be "nice" or "professional". But these people are stupid, selfish, inhumane, single brain-celled, murderous cunts. And that only goes about halfway to describing them. I never thought I could hold so much sustained hate for so many people, but it just keeps growing. I fantasize about hurting every one of them, to be quite honest- they have no qualms with actually hurting me.

Unlike most mass murdering-type scenarios I've heard about, in this case I can't even fantasize about moving away from it. Where would I go? More or less the whole western world has become like this (thank you Great Barrington Declaration etc etc) and I have no idea how I'd even begin to learn the language in the few good places left.

The only way out of this is through, if I'm lucky enough to survive that long. Time is the only parameter that might offer any kind of relief, since location seems off the table. Small steps are being made, I'm pushing some of them myself (though I can't really talk about them publicly), but its slow progress. It feels like one step forwards, two steps back. Maybe there'll be a better vaccine? Maybe places will properly clean the air? Maybe enough people will realise they hate getting sick enough to wear a mask? Maybe a whole new pandemic will arise and it'll be so bad that the protections from that will wipe out SARS2 in the process? Either way, more people are gonna die and worse in the meantime.

I really am so deep in depression now. It's not even depression, it's survival mode. It's just constant stress from constant threats to my existence, sometimes even without stepping out the front door. It feels like PTSD waiting to happen, only I wish it would happen because then at least we'd be "Post". I just feel totally numb and lonely and just in total despair. The pain and lumb in my chest never goes away. I'd say I don't know how much longer I can go on like this, but what choice do I have?

I'm so ready for this to be over. Properly, really, truly over. I'll never forget what people did and likely never forgive. But to be able to live a life feeling actually truly safe would be a dream. I long to be able to have the emotional capacity again to actually just feel happy.

I saw a post on here not long ago that said something like "'this too shall pass' but I really wish it'd pass a bit quicker". That is entirely the mood right now.

[sorrowful-hyacinth]

Pleasure in Pain #2

[ Previous / Next ] — {Masterlist}

I realized people are interested in vampire whump… and so am I. Therefore, I decided to make a second part to this Drabble because I need more whump in my life.

Contents: TW Burning Alive, Fear, Bound, Vampire Whumpee, Defiant Whumpee, Whumper Turned Whumpee, Torture, Hurt/No Comfort.

+++

Cordova didn’t sleep, the presence of the knife in his body was unnerving. The handle sticking out acted as a reminder of how easily he could remove the anomaly if he wasn’t bound by the silver bindings that had been burning his flesh. Every time he tried to relax the knife would brush against any organs near it, causing him to stay tensed.

The silver door scratches the concrete floor. For the first time Cordova looks away from the handle and stares at Rojan. His eyes flare a bright red and he bares his teeth. Rojan sighs as he walks in with some sort of a book.

“You do realize that you don’t look all that intimidating when you’re bound, right?”

“It would be an entirely different story if I was free, you would be shaking, screaming, begging me not to kill you.”

“Well obviously, but that’s not the case now is it. Here, let me show you something.”

Rojan pulled up a chair and sat in front of Cordova. He opened to the first page of the book.

“This is like my scrapbook. Every vampire I’ve ever killed is in this book. Now you’re going to be my 25th kill.” Rojan lifts the book so Cordova can see the page. “See, I put their name, their age, how many days it took for them to ask me to kill them, and one of their fangs. Like a little momento.”

“Do you think I give a shit about your weird custom human? If anyone’s going to die here, it’s going to be you.”

“Says the vampire with a silver knife in his body.”

Rojan stands up and places the book on the seat. He walks over to Cordova who, despite knowing how useless it was, was still trying to break out of his restraints. Rojan placed a firm grip on the handle and pulled the knife out with all his strength. The wound quickly sealed, along with the one on Cordova’s back.

Cordova sighed with relief, it was the first time he had relaxed since it was placed there. Rojan grabbed a handkerchief and wiped the blood from the knife before placing it back in his holster. Rojan slightly chuckles getting the attention of Cordova.

“Sorry it’s just, I mean I thought you vampires were supposed to be like apex predators or whatever, but it’s so easy to catch you guys. I mean all I had to do was wrap a silver chain around you and kick you into a silver box. For such strong creatures, you’re not all that impressive.”

“You dare insult me with your cowardice ways human.”

“Oh please, it’s more like leveling the playing field. Besides, you can live for hundreds of years. Speaking of which, how old are you?”

“Why, so you can put it in your book? Why should I give you the satisfaction human?”

“Because if you don’t then I have a fun activity we can do today. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but do you see that circular shape in the ceiling.”

Cordova looks up and sees it. “What about it?”

“Well, that circle opens up to the sky, and it’s the hour where the sun is at its highest and hottest. Would you like to bask in the sun for a little bit?”

Cordova’s heart skips a little at the thought of burning. He’s never been touched by the sun, but he’s heard other vampires accounts and they had all claimed it was the worst pain they had felt. It was bad enough getting burned alive, but to not be able to die after the excruciating pain is horrific. He tried to keep a poker face to not play into Rojan’s threats.

“Or you could just tell me your age.”

Cordova glared, not saying a word.

“Suit yourself.”

Rojan walked past Cordova as he pulled down on a lever on the wall. The circular doorway slowly opened, exposing the bright blue sky. Cordova’s body tensed in preparation. His chest rising and falling faster as the sky became more visible.

Finally, a ray of sunlight peered through, just missing Cordova’s feet. All he could do was stare at the light as it creeped closer to him. Rojan came back into view and sat in the chair holding the book.

The sun touched Cordova’s feet and immediately got to work at burning his body to a crisp. His eyes went wide with fear and panic as it took little time for the searing pain to cause his skin to dry up and practically bubble as if he was being boiled. His screams filled the room as the table shook violently from his thrashing. His dry skin flaked off, his blood boiled, and whatever was left would be charred to a crisp leaving the lingering acrid smell of charcoal and sulfur filling his nose. The sun climbed up his body as the minutes went by. Every time Cordova thought he would get used to the sensation, an untouched area would go through all the stages of torture, causing him to yell and cry. His lower body was burned, unrecognizably melted away. He hadn’t even noticed when Rojan stood up and walked to the lever, closing the opening in the ceiling.

“As much as your screams were music to my ears, I don’t want you to get used to the worst forms of torture so early. It’ll ruin the fun of breaking you.”

Cordova was breathing loudly, he stayed perfectly still, not wanting to feel his burnt flesh sticking to the table. He could feel his body healing, but at an exponentially slower rate than ever before. He dared to look down and witnessed his blackened skin that had also fallen onto the floor. He gagged at the sight, and the smell was enough for him to wish he couldn’t breathe.

“So, did you have a change of heart, or should I leave you to the sun’s will?”

Cordova shook his head, it was hard for him to get a word out. His throat felt thick from all the crying, and strained from the screaming.

“Well then, how old are you vampire?”

Cordova cleared his throat as best he could and quietly said, “120.”

“Wow, you’re the youngest vampire I’ve caught. No wonder you were so reckless.” Rojan wrote in his scrapbook. “Well, that’s it for today. I do hope you heal up fast, tomorrows going to be a special treat.”

Rojan stood up and left the room, shutting the silver door. Cordova had a constant stream of tears flowing. The stench of his own flesh consumed his nose. It was a smell he wouldn’t forget. It was getting harder by the day to stay strong, but he was still determined to find a way to get out, to find a way to kill that human.

+++

Date: February 27, 2023