#this opens up so many different doors....

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - The World Revolving

1 | 2

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

While exploring the ruins of Card Castle, Kris stumbles across a bound god of chaos hiding just under the surface...a foe way more formidable than any they've faced yet!

PHEW I swear, it feels like I've been working on this particular scene forever! Been distracted by many things...other comics, continued wrist troubles, winter break, etc... but finally, it's done and here! This one is probably the most gnarly one yet in terms of body horror, so heed the warning tags!

The latter half will be out tomorrow!

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - A wide shot as Kris, Ralsei, and Susie make their way through the card kingdom castle…a wrecked ruin, with half-broken towers and ripped banners fluttering in the open air. Lancer sits happily on top of Susie’s head. “Are we there yet?” asks Susie. Lancer replies with a simple “No.”

Panel 2 - Closer on Kris as they look downwards. Something has caught their attention. In the background, Susie and Lancer repeat the exchange: “Are we there yet?” / “No.”

Panel 3 - Kris notices what looks like a trail of parchment torn into different shapes, leading down into a lower level of the ruins. 

Panel 4 - Kris begins to follow the scrap paper trail across large stones, straying off of the pain path through the castle ruins.

Panel 5 - Ralsei notices that Kris has wandered away from them. Susie and Lancer also look on in the background. “Kris? Where are you going?” asks Ralsei.

Panel 6 - Kris points at the scrap trail leading down into the rocks, still focused on it. “The old shopkeep, Seam…they mentioned something about a path cut from pages…”

Page 2

Panel 1 - Side view of Ralsei as he watches Kris descend down, and cautiously holds up a hand in warning. “It’s not wise to wander too far off-course, Kris!” he says. 

Panel 2 - Kris doesn’t seem to pay attention to the warning. In a wide shot, we see them following the trail down a series of large stone steps that seem to be shaped into a spiral. At the bottom of the spiral is another stone with unknown markings on it. “They said there could be something useful to us at the end of it…” Kris says.

Panel 3 - Wider shot of Kris now at the bottom of the spiral. Ralsei, Susie and Lancer watch warily from above, back on the main path.

Panel 4 - Kris approaches the stone at the center of the spiral. It seems to be covered in moss, but something else catches their attention first–

Panel 5 - Closer on the stone, it shows that it has markings on it: a cross, divided up into the four card suits. Kris leans in closer to observe and brush the dirt from the stone. “There’s something here…” they say.

Panel 6 - From high above, Ralsei sees Kris focusing on the stone in the spiral. “Kris? Hang on just a second…” he says, holding out a hand in warning.

Panel 7 - Closeup on Kris’s hand as they brush against the marked stone. Their thumb touches a trigger hidden on the side of the stone, which gives a sharp ‘CLICK’.

Page 3

Panel 1 - Kris lets out a surprised yell as very suddenly, they plummet down beneath the stone–

Panel 2 - Their yell continues as they vanish into what is revealed to be a sudden trap door, opened right below where they were standing. 

Panel 3 - The remaining Fun Gang look on with shock and surprise, and call out as Kris vanishes. Susie gives a shocked “Woah!” and Ralsei cries out “KRIS!”

Panel 4 - A vertical panel as Kris plummets down into open darkness, their limbs flailing. Light from above shines on them as they fall.

Panel 5 - With a grunt of pain, Kris lands on what appears to be a sandy hill–

Panel 6 - And continues to tumble down the hill, sand trailing behind them–

Panel 7 - Very wide shot as Kris’s fall continues, showing that they are sliding down an enormous sand hill, like the inside of an enormous hourglass. Only a single shaft of light shines from where they fell. Otherwise the area is empty darkness.

Page 4

Panel 1 - Kris’s finally slides to a stop somewhere in the sand. They grit their teeth, and try to get back onto their feet. 

Panel 2 - Kris suddenly springs back up, eyes wide in shock, as a strange, bellowing laughter booms around them: “UUH HEE HEE HEE…”

Panel 3 - Kris looks ahead of them…at the very bottom of the sand pit, like an antlion at the bottom of a pit trap, sits what appears to be a bulb, or a closed circus tent. 

Panel 4 - Wider shot as Kris gets to their feet, very wary. “Who’s there?”

Panel 5/6/7 - Multiple panels as the enormous circus tent moves, and begins to unfurl itself…showing massive hands made of bone and stretched tent material, like sinewy skin. Each bony finger is tipped with an enormous scythe. The creature lifts itself up enough to show the a jester’s head, hanging upside down from the bottom of the tent. The jester’s face sports slit eyes, multiple hoop earrings on its pointed ears, and a smile of jagged teeth. 

Panel 8 - Wide shot as Kris stands tiny before the enormous form of Jevil - a creature of bones and tent skin and scythes, balanced precariously upside-down over what appears to be a bottomless pit. Jevil looks at Kris and declares, “WELCOME, WELCOME, LITTLE LOST HUMAN! YOUR FREEDOM IS WITHIN REACH!”

Page 5

Panel 1 - Kris looks up in fear and confusion at the giant creature, and tries to step back. “What are you?!” they ask.

Panel 2 - Focus on Jevil’s upside down face as he grins back at Kris, and says, “A GOD, LOST HUMAN! A GOD OF CHAOS, CHAOS!”

Panel 3 - Kris stands small against the chaos god as he continues to grin down them. “COME CLOSER, AND WE SHALL ENGAGE IN SUCH MERRIMENT!”

Panel 4 - Kris eyes the enormous scythes at the end of the fingers, and continues to step back, extremely cautious. “A god, is it? I think I’d prefer the rest of my party be here for any ‘merriment’,” they reply.

Panel 5 - Jevil twists his head to the side with curiosity and glee, and replies. “I INSIST! I SEE YOUR SOUL DESIRES CHAOS! WHAT EXCITEMENT, WE ARE KINDRED SPIRITS!”

Panel 6 - Focus on Jevil’s scythe fingers as they begin to move through the sand, creaking with the effort. He is beginning to spin.

Panel 7 - Shot from above on Jevil as he spins faster and faster, the tent body and splayed scythe fingers blurring into a hypnotic spiral. The wind howls around him with the spinning.

Panel 8 - Kris jolts forward as the winds pick up around them. The spinning is creating a gyre, drawing them in closer.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Kris tries to slow their slide as Jevil continues to spin and spin, drawing them in closer. The winds and movement are hard to resist. “LET US PLAY, PLAY!” Jevil cries in delight. “TRUE FREEDOM AWAITS YOU!”

Panel 2 - Kris looks up at the revolving god, unable to stop their slide through the sand. The winds whip their hair and cowl around them. However…

Panel 3 - “If I can get past those blades and make the jump…” Kris thinks to themself, as the scene shows Jevil’s smiling face through the whirlwinds.

Panel 4 - Closeup on Kris. They grimace to themself as the wind continues to buffet them and pull them in, and finish the thought: “...One good swing should sever the head and end this!”

Panel 5 - Kris pulls out their sword as they continue to slide closer to the edge of the gyre. Jevil looks on as they say aloud, “I don’t know that I trust a bound god’s concept of freedom.”

Panel 6 - Jevil tilts his head down at them, still smiling as always, and replies, “BOO HOO  HOOEE HEE! AND DOES YOUR SOUL KNOW IT?”

Page 7

Panel 1/2/3 - Multiple panels as Kris slides down the sand, holding their sword at the ready. They ready their sword in another panel, back to the camera, facing down a laughing Jevil. The final panel includes a closeup of their hand gripping the sword, although their hand is shaking. Across all panels, Jevil continues to taunt them: “IN THE BELLY OF A ROAMING BEAST, IN THE OWNERSHIP OF A DEMON PRINCE, IN THE RIGID RULES OF YOUR LIGHT WORLD? IS IT THERE?”

Panel 4 -  The scythe fingers swing by in a blur as Kris slides into the gyre, and pulls their arm back, ready to strike with their sword–

Panel 5 - A black and white abstract panel - something sharp slices through the darkness, and strikes home.

Panel 6 - Closeup on Kris’s face as they look shocked into silence–

Panel 7 - And the camera pulls out to reveal that their sword arm is gone, sliced off completely at the shoulder. They can only look down at the stump where their arm once was in horror.

Panel 8 - Kris screams as they’re thrown helplessly into the center of the whirling gyre, blood streaming behind them from their severed arm. Jevil faces them with glee and declares, “NO, NO! YOUR FREEDOM IS HERE!”

Page 8

Panel 1 - The panels are jagged now, coming apart along with the world itself. Kris is trapped in the searing whirlwind, orbiting around Jevil’s spinning head. The world is a blurred tornado. Jevil cries, “A SIMPLE CHAOS IS ALL YOU NEED! UNRAVEL MIND, BODY AND SOUL!”

Panel 2 - Kris is subjected to the god’s command. They scream into the void as their body is unraveled in the gyre, starting at the stump and spreading out to the rest of them in strips of cloth, flesh and bone. 

Panel 3 - A massive panel as Kris is completely torn apart at the seams. Their glowing soul is revealed as their body is peeled away in stips from them, leaving only a few bones and muscles trying to stay together. 

As Kris is pulled apart, Jevil’s voice rings out: “SEE, SEE HOW ALL THE RULES AND ORDERS HAVE TRAPPED YOU? HURT YOU AND KILLED YOU?” In the strips of Kris’s body pulled apart are scenes that seem to confirm Jevil’s worldview: Empire guards chasing down Kris as a young child. Toriel kindly shooing Kris away from a pie they were interested in. Asgore keeping Kris from plants he knows are dangerous. Kris on the altar as they are sacrificed to the demon. Kris giving up their soul to Ralei. Kris being devoured by Susie. Kris trapped at a door by Mr. Society and Mr. Elegance, keeping them from advancing with rules. Kris being revived, again and again, by Ralsei’s control over their soul. “BUT HE HAS SHOWN ME, IT ALL MEANS NOTHING, NOTHING!”

Page 9

Panel 1 - The panels continue to be jagged and harsh as the rest of Kris’s body is completely obliterated in the whirlwind, leaving only their soul spiraling in the gyre. Jevil’s voice continues: “NO RULES, NO HURT, NO PRISONS FOR YOU! SHARE YOUR JOY WITH ME!”

Panel 2 - Kris’s soul begins to break under the strain of Jevil’s version of joy: a swirling mess of eyes, teeth, claws, screaming faces, beasts and sinew and armor. They all close in on their lost soul in a mess of chaos and madness.

Panel 3 - As the winds turn to pure darkness, Kris’s soul begins to dissolve in the gyre as well, broken in the relentless chaos. Jevil’s voice rings out once more: “SHARE YOUR SOUL WITH ME, A TRUE CHAOS, CHAOS!”

Panel 4 - As Kris’s soul is nearly dissolved and lost in complete blackness, another voice cries out: “KRIS!” From the darkness, Ralsei’s glowing eyes and fiery claws reach out to grab Kris’s soul before it’s lost. 

[bloodstainedsapphic]

becoming ellie williams' personal nurse was absolutely not part of your grand plan. in fact, being ellie williams’ anything hadn’t crossed your mind until an unexpected run-in left you the only one available to patch her up after a rough patrol. you’d spoken fewer than ten times before that, but after that night, ellie unilaterally decided you were the only person allowed to help her when she got injured. you didn’t fuss as much as maria, or dina, or anyone else—and that was enough for her. or at least, that’s what she claimed. it certainly didn’t hurt that you were cute.

that's how you found yourself falling into a routine—ellie 'just happening' to show up at your door, flashing those worn green eyes and grumbling about how "it's not that bad" to garner enough pity until you inevitably caved and fixed her up, sparing her yet another lecture from maria.

tonight was no different. she lingered outside, shifting her weight like she was debating whether to knock. but since this had become clockwork, you were already pulling the door open, and she shuffled inside uttering a, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you sighed, already moving to nab your ever-growing stash of first-aid supplies as she dropped into your desk chair. ellie had tried to clean herself up beforehand, but it was fruitless—her green jacket, the one now being hastily shrugged off, had been covering the worst of it. a deep gash on her arm, the lingering traces of a nosebleed, fresh cuts along her cheek. she’d been through hell and back.

"ellie," your voice carried a warning as you approached, reaching out to cautiously inspect her wounded arm. "this isn't just some scrape." ellie exhaled sharply through her nose, taking the accosting while settling in the chair she'd visited many times already. "it's nothing. i don't want maria finding out and pulling me off patrols."

your lips pressed into a thin line, but you didn't protest further. you knew how much patrol meant to her—how she needed it. how ellie seemed to rely on it to feel like she provided something useful to jackson. so instead, you got to work, gently cleaning the cuts along her forearm. ellie winced as the antiseptic hit raw skin, her fingers twitching against her thigh. unfortunately, the cut had grazed her tatted arm. you made a valiant effort to be delicate enough to mend the cut without disturbing the tattoo—luckily, it had missed the chemical burn ellie said she'd gotten on that arm years ago.

"oh, stop whining," you chided over her complaints. "shouldn't you be used to the pain by now? little masochist. and what's with you aiming for this poor arm so much? you've got two to work with, you know.” ellie scoffed at your chastizing, biting the inside of her cheek as her expression shifted to annoyance but not full offense. "right, lemme plan my injuries better next time."

you dabbed at a shallow abrasion beneath her cheekbone. ellie's eyes flickered up, trying to capture yours, but you wouldn't budge from the injury. she bit her crimson-stained lip, like she was weighing her next words wisely. "you keep patching me up, though. makes me wonder... i mean, i dunno..." ellie stilted her delivery, partly out of nerves, partly to grab your attention. "maybe you like seein' me all banged up," her tone took on a pitchy lilt as she kept peeking up at you.

the way she said it—less of a tease, a tad second-guessing, trying to dare a reaction out of you—made your stomach do something stupid.

"a better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you shot back, deliberately avoiding her gaze while keeping with the 'strict nurse' facade. you couldn't suppress a hint of a smirk though, briefly wiping your mouth to try and shield the small break over her nervous attempt at flirting. you just hated how right she was—no one was forcing you to do this, to put up with her maddening stubbornness and save her hide time and time again. all ellie had to do was bat those ridiculously pretty greens, and your defenses crumbled.

ellie huffed, pleased with your accidental admission but now more determined to coax more from you. she shifted slightly—and that's when you felt it. the light press of her fingers against the dip of your waist, like she had just meant to steady herself but forgot to pull away. her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine. you said nothing, pretending not to notice. maybe she hadn't even meant to. you'd both insist, later, it was simply the sting of the antiseptic anyway, as if she hadn't weathered worse injuries before. neither of you moved.

ellie couldn't disguise her beaming when your strict charade allowed the gesture. she swallowed, like she was trying to decide whether to try her luck. her fingers tapped your side, hesitant.

“i think you're helping me all the time 'cause you've got a soft spot for me."

your breath hitched, warmth creeping up your neck, but you weren't about to let her win that easily. with a little head shake, you willfully regained your composure and lightly patted ellie's uninjured cheek before schooling your expression. "hush. you're being disorderly. i can't fix you up with all this blabbering."

ellie let out an exaggerated hiss, scrunching her eyes shut dramatically. your stomach clenched in brief panic, helper mode reigniting—until you realized she was full of shit, twisting her head like she'd been mortally wounded when, in reality, you had barely touched her.

"you're impossible," you muttered, smacking her good arm lightly in playful retaliation. "your life is in my hands. don't forget that." ellie leaned forward just enough to close the space between you, her voice dropping. "yeah, yeah, and every time i show up like this, i'm choosing to put my trust in you."

she wavered briefly, then added, softer still—only brave enough to say it now because she was already committed to the bit—"and that’s also why you won’t look at me."

you froze, and the second you met her gaze, it was over—long lashes framing those round green eyes, a smattering of freckles, some loose auburn strands that had escaped her barely-held-together bun sticking to her skin from the leftover sweat of patrol. with scraped skin and blood-streaked face, ellie was a proper mess—and yet, here you were, fighting every aching urge screaming at you to throw yourself on top of her.

you swallowed hard. the unassuming, bashful, loserish ellie was nowhere to be found. replaced by an ellie probably still riding the adrenaline of her close call with a horde of infected earlier, caring a little less about the consequences of her words and even further fueled by your easily cracked stoicism.

ellie seized your defeated, flustered silence to keep going. "also, as my nurse, i'm surprised you don't know the best cure for any injury."

you inhaled to brace for whatever nonsense was about to come out of her mouth. "oh, yeah? what's that?"

".....a kiss."

a drawn-out groan escaped you. "jesus," you muttered, cheeks burning. but fine—just this once. you weren't giving in completely, but you leaned in, pressing a fleeting peck to the tip of her nose.

the way ellie's face immediately split into a stupidly giddy grin was almost worth it. almost. her whole expression flushed a rosy pink, too.

"oh, on the nose? that barely counts," ellie teased, her voice dipping into something softer, more expectant. definitely hoping she hadn’t pushed her luck too much.

"deal with it, williams," you murmured, but your mind was already betraying you.

despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what it would be like if you really gave in. if you disregarded all medical safety and climbed into her lap and kissed her senseless, letting your hands explore each other in desperation and recklessly savoring the taste of metallic red left on her soft lips.

snapping yourself from that less-than-holy thought, you deflected under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for another small cut you had overlooked.

when you came back, ellie was still watching you, something unreadable in her expression. you hesitated for a moment, then finally gave her a little glimmer of hope to cling to.

"tell you what," you started. "don't be an idiot—which i know is hard for you—and let everything heal," you let the jab sit for a second to build suspense, "and i’ll grant you the other half of that kiss."

ellie's smile widened triumphantly, though her posture was beginning to laze as exhaustion from the day's chaos caught up with her.

"anything for the nurse."

"yeah, yeah. now hold still so i can finish fixing you up."

and, for once, ellie williams actually listened. pic creds @/elliesgalaxy

[leyavo]

Simon Riley adopting a stray cat, a lot like him. They co-exist like housemates, the odd scratch on the black cat’s head as Simon fills his pet bowl, but they mostly keep to themselves.

Just calls him Cat. Simon talking to him like he would Johnny.

When he’s on a long tour he’s get the old lady next door to feed him, hands the cat over before he leaves and doesn’t look back knowing the old dear will over indulge him.

But when he comes back from his latest mission, Cat smells different and there’s a little silver collar around its neck. The rough patch of fur by the side of its neck is smoothed out, he doesn’t know how it’s fixed itself.

No the old lady smells of mint and antiseptic, like she swallows tcp on the daily. This is sweet and heady, he’s not quite sure how to explain it. He can’t quite get rid of it, it’s how he finds out that Cat sleeps on his pillow.

It’s not till Simon spots you on the neighbouring balcony stroking the cat on the brick wall. The little traitor. He really needs to get a divider now that the flat has someone living it in now.

A few days later the old lady tells him she had to ask you to look after Cat whilst she was in hospital for five weeks, only just getting out a few days before he returned. She warns him that you’re forever in your night clothes and work from home.

So Simon’s knocking on your door not long after, standing back as you peeked through the gap of the door as you opened it. A sliver of a chain stopping you from opening it wide.

“Simon Riley.” He points to his flat. Your door closing and jingle of the chain sliding off its guard, opening it up for him to enter.

You leave the door wide open, a soft hello leaving your glossy lips.

He enters your small studio flat, looks like the landlord divided the previous one to make two small ones and double their profit. That floral and heady scent hits him as he steps over the threshold, leaving a trail behind you. Your body is shimmery, smooth looking and he tries not to look at your long legs on display. The small silk night dress and matching dress robe not leaving much for his imagination.

A meow pulls him away. Cat, the fucking little traitor, is stretched out on your bed playing with a fuzzy fish toy.

He realises that Cat is totally different around you. Apparently he doesn’t like heights, but he’ll climb all over Simon’s shelves and the top of doors, push stuff off. No the little fucker doesn’t knock off the little piles of girl stuff in bowls or the many trinkets on the sides in your flat. Content to play with the little fuzzy fish toy or nap on the blanket.

“I hope you don’t mind, he’s been visiting me ever since Mrs landry asked me to look after him.” You sit down on the bed, which is right by the patio window and the balcony. Simon thinks how’s his bed is on the other side of that wall.

“Nah, actually gotta proposition for ya.”

You looking after Cat whilst he’s away and him slowly starting to looking after you when he’s home.

[masterlist]

[kisses4themissus]

Mr, Mrs & Labour? | Hwang In-ho x Reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: I locked in and finished writing this!!

previous ¦ masterlist

Classic music filled your ears as you laid by in-ho who was wide awake as the lights began to turn on. You both looked at each other, knowing the next game; Mingle.

The others got up, groaning at the bright lights. In-ho leaned over to you and ran a hand over your bump before helping you up. 

“Don’t wake them up, all night long was filled with back pain and endless kicking!” You complained to your husband who chuckled and rubbed the lower portion of your back while you all waited to be led up the stairs.

- - - - - - - -

You stared at the soldiers as you entered the carousel themed room. You were too tired to really act scared, your back felt as if someone had taken a hammer and tried to break your spine, your unborn child was restless the night before and your braxton hicks seemed too real for comfort. 

Gi-hun noticed your pain and walked to a solider. “Does she need to participate? Look at her, she’s in pain.” He motioned towards you and in-ho who rubbed your back, trying to comfort you. 

“The appeal of the game is that everyone is treated equally, even if they have different needs.” The soldier said sternly, making gi-hun sigh before walking back to you all on the platform. 

“I’m alright gi-hun, I should be able to make it through the rest of the game…I hope at least.” You tried to joked earning stern looks from everyone.

You quickly apologized and waited for other players to step on the platform. Tuning out as the instructions were played out. You had left the third game up to in-ho after you had grown frustrated from in-ho’s comments about your ideas. In-ho held you close as him and the others went over a plan. 

“If it’s lower then five, we group apart and adapt.” Gi-hun informed you all. You smiled as the others began to place their hands in the middle, you joined in and smiled at in-ho. “One, two, three, victory!” You all quietly cheered before turning back to face the colorful doors.

As the players were all on, the lights dimmed and the platform jerked everyone, in-ho holding you and jun-hee up right. You sighed as children’s music played, before you could think the platform stopped. 

“Ten!” 

You all looked at each other. Gi-hun turned to the people next to you all. “How many of you?!” He asked, looking around panicked as players yelled over each other. “Four,” Hyun-ju looked around for one more player. “That’s makes nine, we need one more!” Jung-bae noted, as you all discussed a plan, another group of players walked over and held dae-ho by his shoulder.

“Your a group of five? So are we, come with us!” They yelled out. Before you all could step forward a different group rushed over and grabbed the other group of five. Hyun-ju looked around and sighed in relief and grabbed the shaman lady.

You quickly moved from in-ho grasp and waddled the fastest you could to the nearest room and held the door open as the others followed you, shutting the door in time. You winced as gunshots rang out outside the door.

“You’re all alive thanks to me, I saved you all!” The crazy lady announced rasing her finger as she looked at each of you. You scoffed at her.

She quickly whipped around and tilted her head at you. 

“We’re the reason you’re not out there being shot.” You sneered at the religious woman, she scoffed at you and stepped closer, everyone’s eyes bouncing between you both. “Just like a snake in the heavenly garden.” She spat down on your shoes, geum-ja and the others gasped at the lady’s actions.

Your eyes widen, stepping in her way you glared at the woman. “Talk about me again.” You challenged, straightening out, your hands curling up in anger. 

“Let’s not fight right now,” Geum-ja tried to defuse the situation, everyone joining in, trying to calm you down from harming the shaman. You sighed and turned to face the door, trying to calm down, feeling your baby kick around.

“Your child will be stuck in your cursed hands.” She muttered, there was a beat of silence before it had dawned on the others what was happening.

You had stood with your back to her, the next you were slamming a fist into her nose, your other hand holding tightly on her ponytail. In-ho quickly moved and held you on one side while the other blocked you away from her. “You bitch! I’ll snap your neck!” You yelled, trying to claw your way away from your husband and dae-ho’s grasps.

- - - - - - - -

Thankfully the doors unlocked, letting you all out. You glared as dae-ho softly pulled you away from the room. Once out, everyone looked around to notice the drop on the counter of players.

You sighed, shaking your shoe clean of spit. 

“Brush off that woman’s evil words!” Geum-ja told you and she ran he hands over your jacket as if she was clearing off dust.  “Your baby will be born in the hands of a wonderful mother.” She continued as she fixed your jacket.

You nodded at her words. “I would’ve killed her, bringing up my baby like that.” You muttered, in-ho cleared his throat and lead you back. “You can’t be doing that, not when your in a vulnerable state.” In-ho scolded as you both stepped back onto the platform. “Are you saying i should’ve let her run her mouth about our child?” You scoffed, crossing your arms at your husband. 

“I wasn’t saying that..” In-ho sighed and gave up as the platform spun around. You held hands with jun-hee, you both squeezing each others palms for comfort. “Four!” 

Gi-hun looked at you all and sighed, “You four go, me and jung-bae will find someone.” Gi-hun tried to separate you all but you quickly shook your head and held onto in-ho’s arm, “You four go, me and in-ho will go!” You quickly walked away with your husband as the others fled into an empty room. 

“We need two players!” In-ho yelled as you noticed the panic on players faces, people getting betrayed by their teams left and right.

A younger man scrambled on the floor by your shoes and held your ankle. “Please miss, don’t let me die here.” He begged, in-ho quickly helped him up as you found another solo player, you all ran into a room in time, the door close and clicked shut.

You caught your breath as you waited for the soldiers and workers to be done. The other two players caught their breaths, player 256 sighed and bowed to both you and in-ho. 

“Thank you for saving me.” He thanked, the other player quickly joining in. You and in-ho chuckled and shook your heads at them. “It’s alright, thank you for coming with.” You smiled at the pair.

- - - - - - - -

Once it was clear you walked out and looked around for the others.

“MRS OH!” Jung-bae yelled out.

“BROTHER YOUNG-IL?!” Dae-ho called out, him and the others frantically looking for you both. 

“Mr and mrs Oh!” Jun-hee smiled as you both joined the group, you holding your back with a smile as you waddled to the others who embraced you in a hug.

“Oh, i’m glad you and the baby are safe!” Jung-bae sighed in relief and hugged you the best he could. 

“Me or the baby aren’t going anywhere so easily.” You chuckled, quietly smirking at gi-hun and in-ho’s sweet reunion. “I’m glad you both made it, i was worried.” Gi-hun expressed, placing a hand on in-ho’s shoulder.

“Well, me and my wife are very charismatic, so it was easy to get players!” In-ho smiled charmingly at gi-hun. 

In-ho glanced over to jun-hee and checked on her. “You feeling alright?” He questioned, the younger girl nodded a smile on her face. “I’m alright, im glad you both are safe.” She grinned.

Nodding in-ho turned to gi-hun and placed his hands in his pockets. “Wait so if the number is eight, we won’t need other, correct?” He asked, making the other look at him confused, you groaned and cover your face.

“Why’s that?” Jung-bae asked confused, “And the dad jokes have begun..” You chuckled a bit, trying not to. 

“Oh, cause the ladies have babies in them!” Dae-ho realized, making everyone chuckle at the joke.

“If they both had twins we would’ve been good by ourselves for 10.” Jung-bae added, making you all laugh as you got onto the platform.

You held onto jun-hee who tried to brace herself for the stop. “Three!” You all stopped, looking around you all figured out a plan.

“You three go, we’ll go to a different room!” Gi-hun yelled out, both in-ho and him holding onto your arms as you all went to the nearest room.

As you approached the blue door the two let go of you to let you walk on your own but stopped as other players rushed past you, distancing you from in-ho and gi-hun who realized what had happened.

Beside you the older woman, geum-ja was left alone. You looked at in-ho and motioned for her. Without warning in-ho grabbed geum-ja and gi-hun and made it to a room. 

You sighed and looked around, it was too late for players to help you, quickly you snuck away and hid where the solider’s stood hidden for the duration of the game. You noticed the number on the guards back and tapped them. “011, cover me, i couldn’t find a room in time to hide.” You explained as the solider stood up and blocked anyone from seeing you.

You groaned as a cramp ran down your spine. You let out deep breaths, making the guard tense up, not turning around they spoke up. “I believe you’re in labour, gameplanner.” They informed you making you chuckle. “I don't think so, i have a few days before my due date-!” You rushed out the words and tightly held on the soldiers shoulders as a cramp tensed up once more.

“My daughter came a week before her due date.” They informed making you glance up at the triangle, you sighed as the pain calmed down for the moment. “If they get worse, have them call my number, but don't let anything slip to my husband!” You lectured, earning a nod from the solider before they stepped away, letting you slip into a group of players exiting the rooms.

“Mrs oh!” Gi-hun gasped out as you waddled over to the two men, the other also approaching. “I’m glad you’re safe.” In-ho embraced you, leaning into him.

You turned to see geum-ja comforting her son who began to cry as she held him close. “It’s alright, i’m here alive!” She muttered, running a hand over his head. “What happened?” You questioned, in-ho sighed and fixed your jacket.

“Her and her son meant to stick together but got separated when others took him.” In-ho explained, watching as you began to tear up at the bond. Hyun-ju turned to in-ho and gi-hun and thanked the men for keeping geum-ja alive and safe.

Wiping away tears, you all stepped on the platform and waited for the number. “Are you feeling alright, miss?” Player 246, gyung-seok asked as you held your bump. “I’m ok, thank you though.” You reassured before turning to see a worried look on in-ho’s face.

- - - - - - - -

The round had gone by smoothly, you had split apart and joined in-ho and the other men, stepping out and all gathering on the platform you all noticed hyun-ja’s depressive state and the lack of player 095. The platform spun as the song played out, the lights doing the usual pattern. You all waited for the platform to stop.

“How many do you think it’s gonna be?” Jung-bae asked. Leaning towards in-ho and gi-hun who stood in front of you all. 

Gi-hun hesitated, the game didn’t have a pattern to the numbers. “Hard to say-!” Gi-hun was cut off by in-ho’s stoic voice.

“Two.” 

Gi-hun and jung-bae looked confused at his confident answer. “How are you sure?” Jung-bae questioned.

“There’s only 50 rooms and hundred and something players left!” You lied, knowing your husband had a slip up. In-ho nodded along as you pointed to the player counter. 

The platform halted, you all waited as the lights dimmed and began to strobe,

“Two!”

With quick glances everyone grabbed a partner and took off. You and in-ho held hands as you both ran to the nearest room. Opening the door you stopped as player 100 and another man yelled at you to shut the door.

“Green door!” In-ho yelled, tossing a guy to the ground before following behind you into the room. In-ho braced you as a man cowered into the corner of the room. “We-we were here first!” He tried to defend, making in-ho widen is eyes in anger and walked over to the man.

The man swiftly avoid in-ho and backed into you. 

As in-ho went in to rip the man away he watched as you wrapped your arms around the man's neck and slowly moved to the floor as the man tried to let you release him. “Where did you learn that?” in-ho questioned, holding the door shut with his weight.

“the recruiter taught me somethings!” You winked up at your husband who tilted his head, his eyes having a tint of jealousy after all those years.

As the man patted around the room you felt a wet sensation go down your leg, making your eyes widen.

“Asshole!” You cussed twisting the man’s neck, watching as the heavy body lay limp on your lap. In-ho quickly pulled the weight off you and stopped at the wet stain on your pants. “I’ll signal a guard to help clean you up.” He reassured but you shook your head at him. The room door locking and gunshots rang out. 

“My water broke..” You muttered.

hwang in-ho taglist: @snowtargaryen @menabuser16 @azusdump @jspidey5 @annasnape7 @macnbriee @ookybatt @sasha-swftie @moonxnite @ninglovr @frontwomann

Mr & Mrs taglist: @colorwastaken @aphoenixnamed-angel @sooyasya @fries11 @lover-girl009 @skywalker0809 @fallout-girl219 @scarlettlupinblack

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

shots fired | s.r. x fem liaison!reader (inspired by 3x09. mentions of vomit, blood)

“nobody move! or a bullets going through this pretty head.”

you could feel large drops of sweat gliding down your temples, breath exhaling shakey as if that could pull the trigger of the gun that was digging into your skin. along with the fact many fbi agents were also pointing their guns towards you, many trying to get a shot of your capture without bringing you harm.

you scanned the room, emily and derek held their arms steady with laser focus, hotch was outside his office door with his arms held tight paired with his stoney expression. penelope and jj were hidden somewhere and spencer, spencer was staring at you with the most heart wrenching gaze. his mouth slightly agape with his thin brows pinched tight, a hand hovering over his weapon.

the hot tears warmed your cheeks, “spence…” whispering his name to yourself. you didn’t want him here, if you were to die tonight you don’t want this to be your last memory of each other and to traumatize him indefinitely. you wished it to be of the two just laying in your bed this morning as you watched him do his daily cross word in record time, you kissed his cheek as the reward.

“you don’t want to do this man,” derek spoke, “the repercussions for this will be severe. don’t do something stupid.”

the man behind you huffed, “not something for me to worry about. first i’m gonna need this one to get me access into the document room and all of you are gonna sit tight in here, unless they’re willing to have blood on their hands.” your capture roughly shook your body, “get mov-“

there was a loud noise then a warmth coating the the side of your face, a heavy weight dragging off your figure then down to the floor. with a ragged breath and stunned eyes you glanced towards your feet, dark red-

“sweetheart, hey just look at me.” hands cupped your cheeks and gently turned your attention away from the scene to connect with darting brown eyes. spencer ducked his head down trying to catch your dazed look. “just focus on me. take deep breaths.”

his words were muffled, his touch burning against your frozen skin. “spen-“ barely able to say his name before needing to run towards a trash can and throw up the contents from your stomach. heaves and whimpers mixed together as fellow agents walked around to assess the situation.

a hand caught up your hair and rubbed circles along your shoulder blades, “just let it out.” you had one more heave in you then you tied up the bag before allowing yourself to lean against spencer’s comforting body. he tucked your head into his neck while you tried to monkey hold him, wanting him close as possible.

“your safe now. your safe.” mumbling the words for your sake just as much for spencer’s. it feels different to be in this type of situation in your work environment, they shouldn’t be able to get past security and past multiple armed agents. while out in the field it’s the unsubs territory, their playground and your the outsider.

“i-i didn’t want you to-to see it.” stuttering through the panicked hiccups. spencer’s fingers carded through the hair beside your ear, “see what?” he whispered in your crown.

“my death.” barely audible, a whisper of air leaving your tongue. but spencer heard, his body shifted and he moved so he was directly in your eye-line, hands cupping your cheeks. he wiped away something wet, “it never would have come to that. we would have found an opening, thankfully his back was to the door and jj took her shot.”

you sniffled, “i didn’t want to leave you,” trembling fingers reaching to grasp onto spencer’s sweater. “i-i don’t-what i’d-“ your breathing picked up as your mind raced.

“sweetheart, don’t think about that. just listen to my voice and feel the fabric of my sweater. you need to ground yourself, the adrenaline is fading and you’re hitting a fast crash. okay, count to five with me.”

“one.” “o-one.”

“two.” “t-t-two.”

“three.” “…three.”

“four.” a deep exhale, “four.”

spencer inhaled, “five.” you exhaled, “five.” feeling your head dip from exhaustion. spencer kept you pressed to him, taking on your weight. praying to a thousand gods he doesn’t believe for this miracle they granted him.

[hrrtshape]

i am 34 years old (psychologically) and that is so chill of me.

seventeen years here, where the air smells like burnt espresso and a corporate merger. where the sun rises over a skyline of scaffolding and overpriced pilates classes. where my childhood is a stack of polaroids somewhere in my drawer, and my adolescence is something i’m allegedly still in.

seventeen years there, in my dr, where i was richer, sharper, better dressed, and seventeen. where the air smelled like old money and private school perfume, where my life moved in a different language, a different rhythm. a world where my name meant something.

seventeen plus seventeen is thirty-four. thirty-four years of memory. a number that doesn’t make sense because i am not thirty-four, and yet, i am. i have been alive for seventeen years, but my mind? my mind is double that, stretched across realities like a film reel with too many frames.

i was only there for fifteen days. but the brain is not a calendar. the brain is a hard drive, and when i shifted, it downloaded everything. seventeen years of memories compressed into two weeks. entire lifetimes absorbed like water into a sponge. when i woke up here, i didn’t just remember it. i had lived it.

i remember two lives with the same clarity, the same weight. i have twice the memories, twice the heartbreaks, twice the love stories, twice the moments of standing in a bathroom at a party, gripping the sink, thinking, this is it, this is the moment i will remember forever. i have lost twice as much, gained twice as much, made twice as many mistakes, laughed at twice as many jokes that weren’t even funny.

but it’s not just about the numbers. it’s about the feeling. it’s about living with a brain that is both young and ancient (sorry, old people). it’s knowing things i shouldn’t know, not in an oracle kind of way, but in a girl who has seen too much kind of way. it’s walking down the street and feeling like a ghost in my own life, because part of me still expects to turn a corner and see the other world waiting for me. it’s remembering places that no longer exist, inside jokes no one here would understand. it’s muscle memory trying to open doors that aren’t there.

and yet, i am still here. standing in this reality, holding a coffee, texting the same people, making the same plans, laughing at the same tweets. to anyone else, i am just a girl. but i am a girl with 34 years of lived experience. a girl who has already been seventeen, who has already been sixteen, fifteen, seventeen again. a girl who has been given time, taken time, stolen time, and still somehow has no idea what to do with it.

is this what shifting does? does everyone who shifts wake up feeling like they’ve lived twice? like they are something between a time traveler and an unreliable narrator? like they are a person split at the seams, two versions of themselves constantly overlapping? because i think that’s the part no one talks about. the part where you return and you are both more and less than before. you are wiser but more confused, fulfilled but aching, young but so old.

thirty-four years of memory should make me twice as wise, twice as tragic, twice as fabulous. instead, i’m just sitting here, waiting for my mom to get me a quiche.

[scoupsakakitty]

Please Don’t Leave Me pt.2 | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The phone buzzed against the car's dashboard, but the call went straight to voicemail—just like all the others before it. Mingyu let out a sharp exhale, gripping the steering wheel tightly before pressing the phone to his ear as the familiar automated message ended.

"Y/N, you're leaving me no choice," his voice was hoarse, exhausted. "I'm on my way to your dorm. I can’t keep waiting for you to answer. We need to talk. You can be mad at me, you can yell at me, but you can’t ignore me. Not anymore."

With that, he hung up and started the engine, his heart pounding against his ribs as he sped off towards the university. The rain drizzled lightly, the city lights blurring against his windshield, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by her. By them. By everything he was about to lose if he didn’t do something.

When he arrived, he parked haphazardly, not caring if he was in a student-only parking zone. He stepped out, pulling his hood up to shield himself, but it was useless. The moment he walked through campus, he could feel the weight of eyes on him. Whispered voices, subtle gasps—some had recognized him. But he didn't care. He had one goal.

Stopping in front of her dorm room, he knocked. No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. "Y/N, open the damn door." His voice was firm, unwavering. "I'm not leaving until you do."

A few seconds passed, and then—

The door swung open so fast he barely had time to react before Y/N’s hand gripped his wrist and yanked him inside. She slammed the door shut behind him, her eyes wide with disbelief and frustration. "Are you insane? Showing up here like this? Now people will definitely know you’re here! And then you knock like that? Desperate much?" Her voice was laced with panic.

Mingyu took a deep breath, stepping closer. "You left me no other choice. If you had just picked up the phone, if you had answered even one of my thousand messages, I wouldn't have had to come here."

She crossed her arms, her expression hard. "I don’t have to answer just because you call."

His jaw clenched. "Then I have to show up."

Silence settled between them, heavy and unyielding. Finally, she sighed, rubbing her temple. "What do you want, Mingyu?"

His brows furrowed, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean, what do I want? Isn't it obvious? I want you. I want us. I can’t do this without you."

She scoffed, turning away. "Mingyu, wanting something doesn’t always mean you get to have it."

He ran a hand through his damp hair, frustration evident. "I talked to my management. I told them I want to go public with our relationship. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care about the fans who won’t support it. If they love me, they need to accept that I love you. That I can’t live without you."

Her breath hitched, but she remained silent.

"You’re not happy without me, Y/N. Just like I’m not happy without you. I know it. You know it. So why are we doing this?" His voice cracked, raw and pleading.

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweatshirt. "Mingyu... the stress, the sasaengs, the threats—it’s too much. Even if we go public, that won’t change overnight. And you’re always traveling. I barely got to see you before, how will it be any different?"

"I’ll take you with me." His answer was immediate. "We’ll talk to your university. My management has connections—we can figure out a way for you to do your studies online. That way, you can be with me. I can protect you."

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "I can’t afford online tuition, Mingyu. I can barely afford my fees as it is."

His heart ached at the helplessness in her voice. Slowly, gently, he reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "That’s what you’re worried about? Y/N, come on. How many times have I offered to pay for your tuition? Let me take care of you. Let me give you the life you deserve."

"I don’t want to be a burden to you," she whispered.

"You're not a burden. You're my life." His voice was thick with emotion. "Stop finding reasons for this not to work. I can and will fix everything, but I need you to fight with me. For us."

For a long moment, she just stared at him. At the exhaustion in his face, the desperation in his voice. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Like he was drowning.

Finally, she exhaled shakily, placing her hand over his chest, feeling the steady, desperate thump of his heart. "Okay... you’re right." Her voice broke. "I’m sorry, Mingyu. I’m so sorry for making us suffer like this. Please forgive me."

A choked sob of relief escaped him as he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. "You won’t regret this, I promise."

She let out a watery laugh as he peppered kisses all over her face—her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. "Mingyu, stop! You're acting like a puppy."

He grinned, setting her down but not letting go. "Now that I finally have you back, I’m never letting go again."

His eyes flickered around her room, taking it in for the first time in person. "So this is your room, huh? I’ve only seen it on FaceTime. Cozy. I like it."

She rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. "It’s small, but it’s mine."

"Not for long," he mused. "Once you start online classes, you’ll be moving out. Either to my dorm or, better yet, our own place. And when I’m on tour, you’ll stay with me. We’ll share hotel rooms, wake up together, fall asleep together. Doesn’t that sound perfect?"

Her heart swelled at the thought. "I always wanted to go on tour with you, to be honest."

Mingyu’s lips curled into a soft smile. "Then it’s settled. From now on, we’re always together. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more distance."

He cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything. And I’ll spend every single day proving that to you."

Her heart melted as she whispered, "I love you too."

And as he kissed her, sealing their promise, she knew—this time, they were going to make it.

[loramystii]

Sevika with bartender reader?

ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ x ʙᴀʀᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀʀ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ ɢɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇꜱꜱᴀʀʏ ᴛɪᴘꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀɪɴᴋꜱ ᴏʀ ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ?

— ᴄᴡ; ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ, ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ & ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ, ᴀʟᴄ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ

You were counting up the money and tips from last night, getting ready to clock in for tonight. Most were regular tips, 20s-50 bills, especially if they were consantly flirting with you. Though, Sevika, your regular, oddly tipped you more than anybody else. You didn’t think much of it, just that she had money and was lonely. And anyways, it was good to be on Silco’s number two’s good side. You moved your hair away from your hair, sighing and placing your hands on your waist as you listened to some random customer’s order. As you turned around the grab the vodka, your thong was visible above your low rise jeans, a low whistle coming from them. Your eyes rolled but a faux smile graced your lips as you turned. Shaking their drink a while longer, you placed it on the counter. “Add it to my tab, sweetheart.” You tilted your head with a nod and a smile.

Customers came in and out, all of them boring you. Yet once the door opened and Sevika’s broad figure was in your line of sight, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face, your eyes lit up. You quickly adjusted your posture and fixed your low-cut shirt, unsure as to why you wanted to impress her so badly. She walked up to the counter, placing her gun down, intimidating others who were surrounding you on the counter. They grumbled yet walked way to the other side of the bar. “There’s my favorite doll,” She spoke throatily. Her eyes darted to your tits and stomach, then to your slightly disheveled hair from working. “Came a bit later than usual, Sev’” You stated, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with the bar supplies.

“I have stuff to do, still passed by to see you, eh?” You chuckled at her bragging, how she was oh so packed in her schedule yet made time in her busy day to eye you and leave you money. “Whiskey neat?” You asked, her usual order, a classy woman if you had to describe it. She nodded, settling down onto a barstool. As you spun to clutch a glass, her wandering eyes landed on the pairing of your jeans and panties, an uncalled for groan leaving her lips. You cocked a brow, only flipping your head to see why she did that. “Just— uh, just a bruise, you know.” You bought it, unaware of the way her thoughts traveled to the filthiest of things. She received her drink, lips placed on the rim to take a sip.

“So, missed me?” She teased, trying to fill the silence. Licking her bottom lip, watching your tits move with your body and hips turn to grab different items. “Not missed, was jus’ bored.” You clarified even though you yourself didn’t understand your desires and feelings towards her. She hummed in acknowledgment, perhaps amusement. “Good, it’s good I don’t bore you.”

Three more drinks later, Sevika was already inebriated. Her words were slurred and her movements were messy. It seemed everybody else in the bar was the same, intoxicated and scattered all over the place. Not many people were asking for drinks anymore, simply dancing, talking, making out, you name it. You were no longer behind the counter but leaned against it beside Sevika. Sevika’s filter was long gone, her heavily lidded eyes shamelessly eye fucking you. “Are you a slut for every customer, or just me?” A surprised gasp left your lips, eyes widening at the drunk words. A slight huff leaves your lips, crossing your arms over your tits. “Seriously? I’m not a slut.” Sevika rolls her eyes tauntingly, hands subconsciously wandering to your waist. Pressing you flush against her, Sevika spoke now, the music still making her hard to hear. “Your damn panties are out for everybody to see and visually ruin you.” One of your legs wrapped around her bottom leg, boot pressed against it. Her condescending tone making heat pool at the bottom of your tummy in need, and this time, you knew exactly what you needed.

A knowing smile came upon your lips, tracing your fingertips teasingly along her facial features. “Maybe I did it for you,” You commented, placing the idea of you dressing up at home in your little panties and bra thinking of what outfit would please her most. Which thong would get her attention. What top would make her wanna fuck your brains out. Which hairdo would make her tip you greatest. It had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, the alcohol making it harder to say grounded. “Though, I think you’re a bit of a coward.” You extended your botton lip, knowing such insults would set her off. She gripped on you tigher, growling besides your ear. “Why’s that?” Sevika questioned, slipping her knee between both of your thighs. There was ultimately no space left between you and Sevika’s bodies. “All you do is give me money and throw sneaky passes at me, why haven’t you just fucked me, Sevika?” She let out a hefty chuckle, licking her dry lips. “Stop testing me, little girl.” She says mockingly, just trying to intimidate you even though you’re not that far in age. “Think you’re the little girl, Sev’, can’t even reach for that zipper if your life depended on it.”

Your endless ridiculing made her grab your ass, squeezing it and lifting you onto the counter. Your back arched against her hands now, arms circling around her neck. Her hand rushed to undo your pant’s buttons, yelping slightly. “Sev’— are you seriously—“ She cuts you off wih a grumble, nipping at your neck. “You fuckin’ asked for it, now you’re complaining, make up your damn mind, doll.” Your hands came to her chest, trying to push her away but failing miserably. “Nobody’s watchin’” She reassured, hands running through your tense frame. She only got the confidence from the drinks in her system, her thumb coming to rub circes on your pulsing nub. Your cunt clenched around nothing, moaning her name into her ear. A few people’s heads turned, observing the slick from your pussy coating Sevika’s hand. A quick glare made them look away, yet you were still worried and turned on from being displayed. “Tell me how to move m’hand, doll.” She demanded, gathering all your wetness on her two digits and ramming them into you. Your legs circled her torso, head hidden in the crook of her neck.

She pumped them in and out of you, watching your every reaction and whimper. She was experienced, you knew that much, yet seeing it in action was different. “Cu-curl—“ Before you ended your request, she curled her fingers into your g-spot, your jaw going slack as she abused that spot. “Sev’, Sev’, too much—“ Her free hand grabbed your throat, ruining your pussy in plain sight. “Close, doll?” You nodded, tears dripping onto her neck from being embarrassed and babbling pleas. A white ring of cum coated Sevika’s fingers, cooing praises, and encouragement, and then sucking a hickey onto your pulse point. “Thought you weren’t a slut?” Her fingers left your sopping pussy with a nasty squelching noise, licking your cum off her knuckles. Your thighs squeeze shut, reaching to zip up your pants. “You’re a bitch.” You spat, legs shaky. “Promoted from coward, it seems?” She leaves 400 on your counter besides you. 150 from her drinks and the rest for.. well..

“I swear to god if you leave—“ you nearly chase after her as she waves her hand walking away. “I’ll be getting myself off in my car till you get off your shift, yeah? Don’ get your panties inna’ twist.”

ʀᴇqꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ 𐙚

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

A Madness Most Discreet | G.W.

feat. George Weasley x Malfoy!reader

summary: Draco's older sister arrives at Hogwarts for her final year of schooling, and sets her sights on a certain red-headed trickster.

cw: MDNI 18+, pov switching, making out and adult language, light angst (we're just getting started baby), pining, Malfoy family drama and blood prejudice, confident!reader

series navigation | masterlist | divider by @roseraris

Readers POV

No one knew what to expect when the Daily Prophet reported that you, the eldest child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, would be attending Hogwarts for your final year of schooling.

You'd been homeschooled your entire life due to your father's protective nature, but with Draco being 16, he felt you'd have adequate enough protection. Not to mention, he had more pressing matters to attend to than your schooling.

You were beside yourself with excitement. Finally, you'd see the outside of the walls of Malfoy Manor. Finally, you'd get to be around people that weren't Death Eaters twice your age, or your little brother. You loved Draco, but come on. A girl's gotta eat.

Draco and Professor McGonagall led you through the ancient corridors to the Great Hall, every portraits eye trained on you. The newcomer, the subject of many whispered conversations that passed by them less than an hour prior. It seemed even the castle itself was buzzing about your arrival.

You wanted desperately to ride the train with Draco, but your father insisted you be transported separately to minimize the scene you’re appearance would cause.

But you were not one for subtlety.

“I’m begging you to not make a scene,” Draco hissed in your ear, his Slytherin robes brushing your calves. You weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point your little brother grew like a weed and now stood a head taller than you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, D.” You looped your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were lying through your teeth, and he knew it.

“Seriously, y/n. There’s enough attention on us already.”

“Salazar’s tits, Draco! Would you relax? Everything will be fine.” The three of you reached the door to the Great Hall, closed firmly and unbelievably high.You swore you heard McGonagall curse under her breath, and Draco’s arm tightened around yours.

It seemed a scene would be made after all, and you fought the smile threatening to curve your lips.

“Ready, Malfoys?” McGonagall asked, turning to look over you both. The look in her eyes, almost pitying, made you hold Draco's arm a bit tighter, smile faltering.

What are they so worried about?

“As we’ll ever be,” Draco sighed.

McGonagall pushed open the doors, revealing the massive dining hall. Every table was filled with students, piles and piles of food over every surface, and more travelling on levitating trays around the room. Candles floated from the ceiling, the night sky clear and shining with stars.

Every head swiveled towards you, and you watched Draco’s demeanor change instantly. Suddenly, he was no longer Draco, but Lucius, and your stomach curdled, souring your excitement over a grand entrance.

Draco pulled you even closer to his side, casting a warning sneer to every eye that lingered too long while you walked towards Albus Dumbledore on the dais.

Your eyes ping-ponged from student to student, taking in the people you’d spend the next eight months with. You fought to keep your face neutral, an elegant mask of in difference like you'd been taught, but your heart pounded with excitement in your chest.

What a thrill to finally be seen.

The Gryffindor table was on your right, the maroon-clad students sizing you up with open disdain, but even that couldn't dampen the thrill tingling under your skin.

You spotted Harry Potter towards the center of the impossibly long table, flanked by some red-headed boy, Weasley, you surmised, and the girl you immediately recognized as Granger. Or so Draco called her, faux venom on his tongue.

His eyes flicked to her as well, and you suppressed the snicker that bubbled on your tongue. Despite your sheltered upbringing, you knew infatuation when you saw it.

You looked back towards the group, all of their eyes trained on you. But, your gaze snagged on one of them in particular, skipping over his twin beside him. His eyes were different, molten amber and sweet like honey, his hair like phoenix feathers, lips slightly parted like he was staring at a Great Wonder, but instead he was staring at you. Your heart gave an excited flutter.

Oh, there you are, a voice in the back of your mind whispered.

George's POV

Of course, George had heard that the eldest Malfoy was joining their class. Everyone had heard about your arrival. And Lucius made a point of telling Arthur shortly after the decision was made, something about ‘Keep those trouble-making twins away from my daughter.’

But, when the doors opened to the Great Hall and you entered on Draco’s arm, George had been stunned silent anyways.

You were beautiful, unfairly so. Which of course you were, you’re a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake. And George found that he couldn’t look away.

As you walked towards Professor Dumbledore, you scanned the tables, a curious glint in your gaze betraying your disinterested expression. George watched your eyes skip over Dean, then Seamus, then Hermoine, Harry, Ron—until your eyes locked on his. The air was sucked from the room, his heart hammering like a cornered hare as your gaze inexplicably held his.

Even as you continued to walk by, your eyes remained locked together, your head turning just slightly. A smirk sharpened your angelic face, and George’s jaw went slack. But then Draco gave you a nudge and you turned forward, a slight skip in your step.

“—pretty fit, eh?” Fred muttered in his ear. “Oi, look at ‘im,” Fred snickered. “George? Geooooorgie?”

Ron snapped his fingers in front of his face and George jolted back to reality. “Merlin, mate. Earth to George.”

“Sorry, what’d ya’ say?” George asked, looking around at his friends. They all stared at him with a mix of amusement and abject horror.

“Said she’s pretty fit,” Fred chuckled, bumping his shoulder.

“She’s a Malfoy,” Hermoine scolded.

“Yeah, so by definition, she’s hot,” Seamus replied.

“Exactly—”

George tuned them out as you were lead up to the stage, the Sorting Hat waiting on a stool to your right. Dumbledore was speaking, but George tuned him out as well, too fixated on the arrogant slant of your smile, the mischief shining from your eyes.

You had trouble written all over you.

McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat, and it looked like you were speaking to it, no, flirting with it, your dark lashes fluttering.

“What is she saying to it?” Harry asked, leaning forward.

McGonagall placed it on your head, and the hat gave a great laugh, rendering the hall silent. “What a mind you have, girl. Clever, cunning, mischievous—a troublesome combination indeed. Seems even a Malfoy can be more than they appear. But even still—” The room held it’s breath, and Draco looked like he might keel over from stress, even paler than usual. “Slytherin!” The hat cried, and Draco exhaled, shaking his head at the dramatic pout on your face.

Saints, that pout. George wanted to sink his teeth into it.

“You think she’s going to be as bad as him?” Ginny asked, watching as Draco escorted you down the stairs and over to the roaring Slytherin table. People were throwing themselves out of their seats to make room for you, and you basked in the attention like a benevolent queen returned to her kingdom.

“Worse, probably,” George muttered, forcing himself to look away from you and back to his dinner. Suddenly, he found himself without an appetite.

Reader's POV

Your first three weeks at Hogwarts had been a whirlwind of introductions, lectures, and parties. The world was at your feet, the lower classman wanted to be you, your classmates wanted to fuck you, and everyone else was terrified of you. You never had to wait for a drink, or a meal, and someone was always willing to do your assignments for you, not that you needed it.

It seemed your education under your father far surpassed that of your peers, in certain subjects at least. You could out cast them all with ease, and were looking forward to when dueling would begin.

And, you seemed to see your tall, red-headed boy everywhere you went. You'd learned that his name was George, a Weasley, Draco had sneered when he caught you ogling his tall, lean frame by the lake one afternoon.

You knew how your family felt about families like the Weasley's, but despite your father's best efforts, you couldn't bring yourself to hate someone for something as trivial as what ran through their veins.

An opportunity to speak to George hadn't presented itself until you'd escaped to the library one evening. The attention you initially craved was starting to border on suffocating, and you wanted a few hours of quiet to yourself.

It was a lesson your mother had taught you. You can withstand anything so long as you hold onto yourself.

But when you entered the library and started pursuing the stacks for the Potions section, you found none other than George Weasley stretched out in a window seat, a book in his lap, his head lolled against the window as he snored.

You tiptoed closer, taking in the state of him. He was dressed in trousers and a white button down, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his tie a little loose around his throat. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his fingers through it, and his socks were mismatched argyle.

You knew you shouldn't, but you found him extremely endearing, so soft-looking and cozy. Your fingers itched to straighten his tie, smooth his flaming hair.

Instead you lifted the book from his lap and read the cover. “Pyromancy and Magical Combustion: A Spellcaster’s Guide”

George stirred suddenly, his hands flexing around empty air.

You considered backing off and leaving him to rest, but where the fun in that?

“George,” you purred, but he didn't respond. “Geoooorge,” you tried again, poking him in the sternum. He turned his head, freckled nose scrunching. “George, darling. It's time to wake up.” You walked your fingers up his chest and tugged lightly on his red and gold tie.

“Hm?” He mumbled, brown lashes fluttering open to reveal his sleep-trodden, amber eyes. They locked on your face, widening for a second before he jolted upright. “Y/n? Merlin, where the fuck—”

“It’s alright, love,” you shushed him, using deft fingers to straighten his tie and fix his collar. “You're in the library, sleeping like an angel. Lucky it was me that found you and not Pince.” You glanced up at him, finding his jaw a little slack, his eyes round as he stared at you in shock.

You always were a little too bold for your own good. Reckless in the pursuit of what you wanted.

“I, uh, yeah. Lucky me.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “Sleeping like an angel, hm?” He asked, regaining some of that cheeky charm you’d witnessed from afar over the last few weeks. A trait that only piqued your interest further.

“You looked awfully sweet to me,” you said, batting your lashes.

“Said the rattlesnake to the kitten,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Rattlesnake?” You scoffed, feigning hurt with a hand over your heart. “I don't bite!”

“I don't believe that for a second, Malfoy.” His eyes skimmed over your face, down to your lips.

You flashed said fangs, and he smiled back.

“Why are you in the library?” He asked, glancing over your shoulder. “Alone? I haven't seen you without Draco or one of his goons since you arrived.”

You rolled your eyes. Draco had assigned Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini to watch over you when he couldn't, and it took a concerted effort to evade them and come here. “Was getting a little tired of the entourage,” you admitted.

“A Malfoy? Tired of attention?” He tapped a finger on your forehead, featherlight. “I think you might be broken.”

“You're one to talk, Mr. Weasley. Where’s your twin? Recently severed, are we?”

He chuckled, the sound low and honey sweet. “Hufflepuff party.”

“And you didn't go, because…? You love pyromancy so much?” You held up the book, teasing him.

“Wasn't in the mood to socialize,” he said, shrugging a shoulder.

“Well, George, it seems we may have more in common than we realized.”

His eyes warmed. “Seems so.”

“Could you help me find the Potions section?” You asked, cocking a thumb over your shoulder. “Draco never gave me a tour…”

George popped up, revealing his full height and sending you back a step, and your mouth filled with a saliva. The top of your head barely skimmed his collar bone, his limbs long and lean.

He offered you his elbow. “Right this way, Ms. Malfoy.”

You rested your hand on his bicep, the burgeoning heat between you flaring brightly at even the smallest contact, and he lead you through the stacks.

He was warm and steady beside you, his cologne fresh and clean smelling, his muscles flexing slightly as he steered you. Butterflies stirred in your stomach, pleased that your instinct when you spotted him had been correct.

He was a delight. Handsome, sweet, clever. A loyal Gryffindor, the opposite of all the other pricks that threw themselves at you.

When you arrived at the clearly labeled Potions section, you turned to face him. “You’re in my Potions class, right? Are you any good?” You asked, wanting to delay his departure.

“Pretty good, yeah. Why? Need a tutor?” He quirked an eyebrow, his voice coming out a little too fast to be ready as anything but eager.

“If you've got the time.” You shrugged. “I wouldn't want to keep you.”

“Nonsense. I'm happy to be of service,” he said, winking at you, sending a fizz of desire pulsing through your blood.

George gathered the books you needed and led you to a secluded table at the back of the library, recognizing the risk of anyone seeing the two of you together, even doing something as simple as studying.

“So, what's the trouble with Potions?” He asked once you were settled in, books splayed around the table.

“My father didn't see the value in it, and it's not like we have a laboratory in the Manor,” you said, dipping your quill in your ink.

“So you were homeschooled your entire life?” George folded his arms against the table, leaning a bit closer. “Why?”

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “My father had his reasons.” It was a practiced answer, a safe one, and it tasted bitter on your tongue. “He thought it wasn't safe,” you added, wanting to assuage the guilty feeling.

“Not safe?” George scoffed. “Hogwarts is the safest place in the world.

“Depends on who your enemies are,” you said, finally meeting his eyes.

“And who are you enemies?” He asked, sitting back on his chair.

You brushed the soft tail of your quill over you lips, mulling over your response. “Well, George. I suppose you are.”

“That's a shame, here I thought I was just your Potions tutor.”

You snorted, caught off guard by his joking. “Should be fine, as long as we aren't friends,” you chuckled.

“Definitely not friends.” He smiled. “Now, the thing about Beezors…”

George's POV

George watched you pour over your notes, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and you did that god-forsaken fucking thing with your quill again.

Dragged the feather over your lips with the barest touch, the movement unconscious, and it made his heart seize every single fucking time.

He could hardly believe he was sitting across from you, walking through the curriculum you needed for the first Potions exam in two weeks. You'd missed a lot being homeschooled, but we're clearly incredibly bright, and you picked everything up with ease that rivaled Hermione.

He'd been fascinated by you from the moment you walked into the Great Hall, and managed to snag his eye every time you entered a room there after. You occupied his mind too, so much so he was already behind in Charms, but he wasn't even quite ready to admit that to himself yet.

You were a Malfoy, after all. It didn't matter that you were interesting, or clever, or beautiful. You were a Malfoy. End of story.

He should get up and walk away right now.

What right did you have asking him for help? You had everything. And you were smart enough to do this on your own. You didn't need him. And he shouldn't want you.

Oh, Merlin. And he didn't want you….right?

He couldn't. He barely knew you beyond your reputation and the whispers he'd gathered in the halls, but it felt like he did. Like he's known you for ages, the quiet between you comfortable despite his racing thoughts.

But no, surely not. He didn't want you. Nope.

You dragged you quill against your lips again, sighing softly, and he nearly melted to the floor like a lit candle.

Fuck. He wanted you.

“George?” You called, waving a hand in front of his face, and he jolted back to the present. “Dozing off again?” You teased, voice sweet as treacle.

“No, was just, ah, trying to remember what we covered fourth year,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and hoping you didn't catch the flush in his cheeks.

But based on the twinkle in your eye, you certainly did.

“Maybe we can cover it tomorrow?” You asked, closing your book and setting down your quill. “I'm not sure I can absorb anything else tonight—” a soft yawn punctuated your words, sweet as a lamb, and George had to look away so he didn't memorize the exact shade of your tongue.

Definitely don't meet up with her tomorrow. “Yeah, same spot?” He asked, gathering his things as well.

“It's a date.” You winked, and flitted between the stacks, disappearing from his sight.

George slumped back onto his seat, scrubbing a hand over his face.

When he showed up ten minutes early to the library the following day, he'd never felt more pathetic in his life.

All day, he told himself he wasn't going to go. That he was going to leave you hanging and end this before it got started. Whatever this was.

He was betraying his family by sitting in this chair, guilt churning and acrid in his gut. They would be so disappointed him. He could already hear his mother in his mind: you're a spineless fool.

And it was the truth. He'd lied to Fred and Ron about what he was doing, and snuck past Hermione and Harry who were studying by the entrance. He was lying to and hiding from the people he loved most, all for a Malfoy.

He was about to get up from his seat when you came breezing around the corner, a cauldron in your arms. He continued to rise but instead of fleeing, he took the cauldron from you with a chastising tsk.

“Stealing from Snape, are we, rattlesnake?” He set the cauldron on the table, turning back to you.

“I didn't steal it!” You argued.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

“I'm going to bring it back later.” You rolled your eyes and dumped your bag onto the table, potions and herbs rolling out. “How else am I supposed to learn about potions?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Merlin, you were adorable. Pink cheeked from carrying everything, your hair windswept, eyes shining with that rebellious light. He was helpless, drawn to it like a moth.

“Just don't blow my eyebrows off,” he grumbled.

“No promises,” you teased back.

The two of you toiled the rest of the evening away over the cauldron, successfully making two of the four potions Snape had covered this semester.

You stood shoulder to shoulder over the bubbling green liquid, and he glanced down at you, at the victorious little grin on your face, and he felt his insides twist.

He reached to grab a bundle of herbs on your right, and you turned to grab an ingredient on his left, and your bodies bumped together in the middle, faces nearly colliding.

“S-shit, sorry,” he said, pretending he couldn't smell the expensive perfume on your skin. Like it wasn't rotting his brain from the inside out.

“Sorry for what?” You asked, leaning the rest of the way to get your ingredient, apparently completely unbothered by your chest pressed up against his, your face brushing his shoulder.

“Uh, I—”

“So tense, Georgie,” you murmured, reaching a hand up to squeeze at his flexed bicep. “I don't bite, remember?”

Every scrap of attention zeroed in on your hand touching his arm, his heart thundering in his chest. Georgie. The nickname rattled around in his empty mind. Georgie. Georgie. Georgie.

“I'll try,” he rasped, clearing his throat.

An hour later and you finished the third Potion, the sun long ago set over the horizon. It wouldn't be long before Pince came looking for stragglers, and you'd be booted from the library.

George glanced over at you, your cheek propped against your palm, lashes fluttering as your lids slid closed. Something warm bloomed in his chest watching you doze, peaceful and untroubled, trusting him enough to let your guard down so completely.

As quietly as he could, he picked up his things and yours, and discarded the potion. Carefully, he tucked the cauldron behind one of the the shelves for your next study session so you wouldn't have to lug it back and forth, vowing to take the fall if Snape caught on.

“Rattlesnake,” he cooed, nudging your shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

You groaned, nose wrinkling before you blinked open your eyes at him. A sleepy smile stretched across your face, and his knees turned to jelly. He wanted to kiss you so badly it stole his breath.

“Sorry, Georgie,” you mumbled, covering your mouth when you yawned.

“All good, love,” he replied, handing you your things. Shit, he cursed himself. Love had just rolled off his tongue, easy as breathing.

But you only smiled at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder and getting to your feet. “Thanks for your help,” you said. “Do you think you'll have time to meet next week?”

Quidditch matches started next week, eating into the little bit of free time he had. But he'd figure it out.

“Could probably meet Monday after practice, if you'd like,” he said, shouldering his own bag.

“Monday would be great.” You rose up onto your toes to peck his cheek. “See you then!” You tossed over your shoulder as you walked away, leaving him a flustered mess.

He rubbed his hand over his cheek, the place your lips brushed his skin still tingling, and sighed. How could he stay away from you? Why should he? Because of your last name?

It was the Malfoy’s job to be stuck up and judgemental, not his. And you seemed to be nothing like them…

Then, something occured to him. A thought so upsetting it punched the air out of his chest and he dropped back down onto his chair.

What if this was a trick?

What if this was a way for the Malfoy's to get close to his family? To get them to let their guards down? What if you were just a beautiful Trojan Horse?

He shook his head, trying to shake the dark thoughts loose. You couldn't be, not with those bright eyes and rebellious smile. He couldn't imagine you being so cruel. But then again…you were a Malfoy.

How could he know for sure?

He left the library with his head hung low, doubts swirling in his mind like a storm, making his stomach churn, but one stood clearer than the rest. Disruptive as a strike of lightning.

Was it worth the risk?

Reader's POV

Your connection with George deepened over those few study sessions, and it seemed he was just as into you as you were him. From the knocked together knees, to his fingers brushing against yours when he passed over an ingredient or book, to his eyes lingering on you over the cauldron, the signs were plentiful.

But Monday night, he'd been different.

He was acting strange the entire study session, watching you closely, giving clipped, one or two word answers. His shoulders seemed almost heavy, burdened.

At first, you chalked it up to him being tired after practice, but instinctively, you knew it had something to do with you.

Unable to bear it any longer, you turned to him after shelving your books. “Is something wrong, George?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He froze in place, refusing to meet your eyes. Then, something seemed to give way in his expression, a loaded sigh loosing from his chest. “I'm not sure we should keep doing this,” he admitted, sounding almost pained. “Your family would have a conniption, as would mine.”

You let your arms fall to your sides. It was only a matter of time before this came up, you supposed. But, you were prepared for it. “And?” You asked, risking a step closer. “I'm not sure about you…” you placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart race, his muscles tense under your touch. But he didn't pull away. “But I make my own decisions.”

He placed his hand over yours. “You could have anyone you want. So, why me? What's in it for you?”

You recoiled slightly, removing your hand from him and taking a step back. “You think I have some ulterior motive.” It wasn't a question, nor was it a shock. Everyone always assumed you did everything with malicious intent. You just thought maybe George saw you differently.

George's eyes softened, sensing your hurt, but he didn't back away from his claim. “I think your father has it out for my little brother and his best friends, and I won't put them in danger just because I want to kiss a girl.”

Your heart gave a jilted pang, confusion making your brows furrow. You knew he was being completely honest. He wanted to kiss you, but he was afraid of what the consequences might be. Consequences you hadn't even really considered.

George had every reason to be skeptical of you. But your only ulterior motive was getting closer to him, and maybe getting under your father's skin a little should he ever find out.

“I don't have an ulterior motive, George. Nor do I take orders from anyone, least of all my father. I have no ill will towards your family, and I'm sorry that mine has treated you all so poorly.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Swear it,” he said, holding up his pinky.

You wrapped your pinky around his. “I swear.”

His eyes searched your face and you saw the moment he decided he trusted you, eyes melting like honey. "I trust you, rattlesnake." A smirk broke through his serious expression. “Am I going to regret it?”

Relief ballooned in your chest. “In the best way,” you purred, bringing his pinky up your lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckle.

His pupils dilated, breath hitching in his chest. Then you were moving, his body pressing you backwards against the bookshelf, dropping your pinky to brace your hips with both hands.

“You're awfully confident,” he whispered in your ear, making your stomach flutter with anticipation.

You hadn't felt this excited in far too long, his touch, his voice as tempting as the finest wine.

“Are you going to find out why? Or keep prattling on?”

With a final exhale, he crashed his mouth to yours, his lips supple and insistent, your toes instantly curling in your shoes. You opened up for him and he licked into your mouth with firm strokes, deliberate and claiming. He tasted like lemon drops and black tea, and you were desperate for more of it.

Every other kiss you'd had felt lifeless and disappointing, empty and wet in the worst way. But this, the fervid caress of his searching tongue, felt like wildfire: burning, consuming, ravenous.

“George,” you gasped when his lips traveled down your neck, the tip of his nose a cold contrast to the heat of his mouth.

He nipped at your pulse, sucking the skin between his teeth to leave a mark.

“George!” You giggled, pulling on his hair to stop him.

“Y/n,” he hummed, smiling at you. His lips were puffy and slicked with spit, his eyes sparkling.

Two could play at that game.

You leaned forward, licking a long stripe from the hollow of his throat, over his Adams apple, to the underside of his chin.

“Shit.” His hands tightened on your waist, his head falling back to give you more access. You bit down, laving your tongue over his fevered skin, and his let out a low groan. “You little liar,” he gruffed, one of his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. “You do bite.”

You giggled, lapping at the light purple mark you left behind. “I'm not sorry.”

He tipped your head back and reconnected your lips, teasing and light. “You have no reason to be. Bite me all you like, rattlesnake,” he murmured between unhurried pecks.

“Careful what you ask for.” You caught his lower lip between your teeth and tugged gently, earning another groan, before kissing him a final time, soft and lingering.

Hearing the distant chime of the bell tower, you finally broke apart. Curfew. Pince would be around any second.

You brushed your nose against his. “I have to get back to the common room,” you sighed.

“’Course. Wouldn't dream of keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly. “See you at the match tomorrow?”

You nodded, pulling your still tingling lower lip between your teeth. “Absolutely. I’ll be in green.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, pretending to wince. “I'll have you in red soon enough.” He released your hand and walked backwards out of the aisle, his eyes trained on you until he was forced to turn the corner, his hand sticking out to wave a final goodbye as he disappeared.

You placed a hand over your thundering heart, a little stunned by your bodies intense reaction him.

What in Salazar's name has you gotten yourself into?

George's POV

George left the library achingly hard and shook to his core, the blood that hadn't traveled south roaring in his ears.

That was the singularly most earth-shattering kiss of his life. And it was with the absolute last person he should be kissing.

George wasn't the type to get physical so quickly after meeting someone, but you were irresistible. And seemed to want him as badly as he wanted you, a fact he struggled to get his head around.

And even though he knew he should, he couldn't bring himself to regret a second of it. In fact, he was already anxiously awaiting the match tomorrow, debating whether or not he could squeeze in some extra practice at dawn while he walked back to his dorm.

As soon as he opened the door, he found his brother, Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Neville sitting up in their beds, and stopped short.

“Hey George!” Harry called, waving.

“What’s the matter with you?” Fred asked, clocking his trepidation immediately.

George had to fight to urge to clap a hand over the mark you’d left on his neck. Would they smell your perfume on his skin?

“Nothing? Why?” He asked, heading towards his trunk.

Fred eyed him suspiciously. “Where have you been?”

“Library,” George answered, a little too quick.

Fred studied him a moment longer, then snapped his fingers, a huge grin on his face. “You were with a girl!”

The rest of the boys oooooh’d, and George felt his cheeks heat.

“Yeah, right. You know me, drowning in babes,” he argued, throwing a towel and his pajamas over his shoulder. “I'm going to take a shower.”

“Ah, so just a snog, then?” Seamus teased.

George flipped them off and left for the showers, praying they forget about it by the time he got back.

Reader's POV

“Where the fuck have you been?” Draco snapped, rounding on you as soon as you stepped back into the Slytherin common room.

“Places,” you reply, kissing his cheek before strolling by.

He caught your wrist, tugging you back to him. “Y/n…”

“Draco…” You rolled your eyes. “I was in the library, relax.” You pull away from him and walk towards the girls dormitory, Draco on your heels.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time there,” he accused, an edge of suspicion in his voice. “I would have gone with you, or Blaise or Pansy—”

“I wanted to go alone,” you snapped, stopping so suddenly he bumped into you. A hush fell over the common room. “I don't need a fucking body guard, Draco. You need to back off.”

Draco's nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing. “Stop it,” he hissed. “We can talk about this in private.”

“Why? Is your ‘bad guy' reputation so fragile?”

His jaw flexed, and you could tell your words stung, hurt flickering across his eyes.

You sighed. “D, I can take care of myself,” you murmured.

“But if something happened to you…” his voice softened, trailing off.

“Let me have this,” you asked, taking his hand in both of yours. “Please. I've never had any freedom.”

He squeezed your hands. “I know, I know. Just…let me know where you are, at least? Don't just keep disappearing—what is that?” His eyes hardened, lowering to your neck.

You fought to hold your composure. “What? Oh, the burn? I bumped it with my curling iron this afternoon.” You grazed your fingers over the mark George had left, a flurry of butterflies kicking up in your stomach.

Draco dropped your hand, and guilt soured your fuzzy feelings.

“Who is it?” He growled.

“Draco—”

“You think I can't tell when you're lying?” He grabbed you and lead you into a quieter part of the common room, shadowed from onlookers. “Who was it, y/n?”

You glared daggers at him, squaring your shoulders. “I suggest you mind your own business, or we will have a fucking problem. I will not hesitate to dismantle every brick of this bullshit castle you've built. Clear?”

His jaw ticked, eyes blazing. “This is not a fucking game,” he said after a tense moment of silence.

“Just trust me, okay? I’m fine. We’re fine. Not everything is life and death.”

“Y/n, you aren't listening—”

“No, you aren't listening. We're safe here. And I have my brother to protect me from anything scary, yeah?” You reached up to pinch his cheek, and he scowled, swatting your hand away.

“I can't protect you if I don't know where you are,” he argued.

You sighed. “I'll try and tell you from now on, okay? But you can't be with me 24/7. You need to have a little faith in me.”

“It's not you that I doubt,” he grumbled, but you could tell that you'd won this round.

“Goodnight, Draco. And don't stay up too late, you've got a game tomorrow.” You poked him hard in the chest, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, sister.” He waved you off and you ascended the stairs to the girls dorm, leaving him to his friends, and you to toss and turn in your bed, dreaming of George.

Thank you for reading!

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[unconventional-lawnchair]

Over and Over Again

Remus Lupin x Muggle!Reader

Summary: The legend of soulmates and the myth of endless lives tied to one another permanently was once a myth you don't believe. Until you met Remus Lupin.

WC: 4k

CW: Angst no comfort- The reader and Remus's depiction crosses gender and species lines. Hogwarts Legacy reference. Animal death and blood- so much death-

The pub smelled of stale beer and cigarette smoke, the kind of scent that lingered in the wood and clung to the air, no matter how many windows were cracked open. The low hum of music played from an old jukebox in the corner, the neon glow of its lights flickering with age.

It was familiar, comforting in a way that only a Muggle pub on a Friday night could be.

You spun your drink in your hands, watching the ice swirl lazily in your glass as Lily Evans leaned against the table beside you. She looked radiant as always, her fiery red hair gleaming under the dim lights.

“I swear,” She promised for the fifth time. “You're going to love them. Just… be nice to Peter, and for the love of Merlin, don’t ask Sirius about his family.”

You frowned. “For the love of Merlin?”

Lily’s lip twitched.. “Ah- Just… an expression. The boys use it a lot.”

You raised an eyebrow but let it go. Lily had always been a little odd, but she was your odd, your best friend since childhood.

She had been gone for the last few years, tucked away in that mysterious boarding school she never let you visit. Every time she came back to visit, she seemed… different. Like she was carrying secrets she could never fully explain.

Tonight was the first time she was introducing you to her boyfriend- James- and his friends. You had spent years watching her fall out of the abusive cycle of friendship she harbored with Severus Snape- you almost felt bad for him. If only he'd grown up too.

You had, in equal turn, been berated with letters about the slimeball that was James Potter. Just to see her ink blots lighten and her words becoming more fond when it came to his name- you were excited to meet him.

You took another sip of your drink, then looked up as the door to the pub swung open.

A burst of laughter and energy filled the pub as a group of four young men stepped inside, shaking off the damp chill of the London evening.

You saw James first, instantly recognizing him from the photos Lily had shown you. He was all messy hair and glasses, grinning like he owned the world- but the way his gaze immediately sought out Lily made your heart warm.

Then there was Sirius Black, effortlessly handsome, carrying himself with the swagger of someone who knew he could have anyone he wanted, but still acted like he was above it all. His dark leather jacket and roguish smirk screamed trouble.

Beside him was Peter Pettigrew, shorter than the rest, with darting eyes and an almost nervous energy, like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

And then there was the fourth boy- no- man.

The second your eyes landed on him, it was like the entire world narrowed.

Remus Lupin.

He was quieter than the others, his posture a little more reserved. He wasn’t as flashy as James or Sirius but something was still there.

Something in the way he held himself- not quite shying away, but not fully stepping into the spotlight either. His soft sandy blonde hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his hands through it too many times. His face was lean, cheekbones sharp beneath tanned skin, marred by faint scars that ran across his features. But it was his eyes that caught you.

Warm, golden-brown, and filled with something ancient, something tired, something achingly familiar. Your stomach flipped.

Lily’s voice jolted you from whatever spell had momentarily trapped you.

“Come on,” She squeaked, tugging you forward with a grin. “Let me introduce you.”

Your legs felt unsteady as you followed her through the crowded pub, weaving between groups of laughing strangers. The boys turned as you approached, James immediately scooping Lily into a hug and pressing a kiss to her temple. You barely registered it.

Your focus was on Remus, who was watching you with the strangest look you'd ever seen.

Somewhere between horror and intrigue.

Lily cleared her throat, oblivious to the strange, charged silence between you and Remus.

“Alright, boys,” she said, grinning. “This is her.”

James turned away from Lily just long enough to flash you a charming, lopsided smile. “The infamous childhood best friend!” He declared. “Blimey, I was starting to think you were just a legend.”

You let out a short laugh. “Well, I assure you, I’m very real.”

Sirius tilted his head, appraising you. “We’ll see about that,” he mused, then smirked. “The real question is- are you cool enough to be seen with us?”

“Oh, definitely not,” You deadpanned. “I’m a disgrace to all things cool.”

James barked out a laugh. “I like her!”

Lily rolled her eyes but was smiling.

Meanwhile, Remus hadn’t moved.

He was still looking at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes- those deep, golden eyes- seemed locked onto you, as if he was trying to piece something together, trying to solve something that had no answer.

You met his gaze.

“Remus.” He whispered and you muttered your own name back to him without a second thought. And he smiled, lifted his hand-

The moment your fingers brushed as you shook his hand- it happened.

A bolt of pure, electric familiarity shot through your body, rattling every bone in your frame. The pub melted away, the noise, the people, the dim glow of the jukebox- everything faded into a swirl of golden light and rushing wind.

The world around you vanished. The dim pub, the chatter, the clinking of glasses- all of it was swallowed by the sudden rush of something else. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the rustling of leaves, the whisper of wind through tall golden grass. The scent of fresh earth, sun-warmed fields, and damp fur filled your senses.

And then, you were there…

You were small, swift, your body light as you darted between the tall stalks of wheat. A fox, red-furred and wild, your sharp nose twitching as you ran through the fields.

And behind you, paws pounding against the earth, was him.

A hound.

Lanky, golden-furred, and young, still growing into his paws. His ears flopped when he ran, tongue lolling as he chased after you, barking playfully.

He was supposed to hunt you. But instead, he chased you.

Every day, when his master wasn’t looking, he sneaked away from the farmhouse, bounding over the hills to find you. Together, you would race through the fields, rolling in the wildflowers, playing until the sun dipped below the trees.

Free, weightless. Soft fur against rough wheat and playfully snapping jaws. Then- Pain. Sharp, sudden pain.

A snapping sound- cold metal clamping down around your hind leg. A trap.

You yelped, twisting, trying to free yourself, but it was tight, unrelenting. The more you pulled, the more it bit into your flesh, blood staining the grass beneath you.

And he- your hound- panicked.

He barked wildly, circling you, nudging you with his nose. He tried to paw at the trap, but he was just a dog- he couldn’t undo his master’s cruel work.

You whimpered, eyes wide, pleading. He threw his head back and howled, loud and desperate, as if somehow, that would bring help.

And help did come. But not the kind he wanted. The farmer arrived. Gun in hand.

The hound whimpered, barking frantically, placing himself between you and his master. But he was a dog. And a dog’s loyalty belonged to its owner. Even when his heart was breaking.

The farmer raised his rifle.

A deafening bang-

Darkness.

The darkness faded, but you didn’t wake up in the pub.

Instead, you were staring at your own reflection in a gilded mirror.

A face- not quite your own, but one you knew belonged to you.

Your hair was woven into delicate braids, strands of pearls threaded through like drops of moonlight. A soft silk gown pooled around you, its fabric cool against your skin. The weight of a crown sat heavy atop your head, a reminder of your fate- one you had never chosen, one you had never wanted.

And behind you- fingers grazing your bare shoulder as they fastened a necklace-

Was her.

Your Lupin.

But not as you knew him.

A woman, dressed in modest, elegant gowns, a lady-in-waiting, her golden-brown eyes lowered in the practiced deference of a servant.

But she was not just a servant.

She was your dearest friend. She was your first love.

She was the one who walked with you through moonlit gardens, whispering stories of ancient myths. The one who pressed flowers into the pages of your books, so that when you opened them, they smelled like spring.

She was the one you could never have.

Not in the way you wanted. Not in the way that made your chest ache, that made your fingers tremble when they brushed against hers, that made your heart scream for a different fate.

Not in the way that had offended your betrothed.

Not in the way that would get you both killed.

You turned in your chair, reaching for her.

Her fingers lingered at the nape of your neck, hesitant, uncertain, as if she wanted to stay there forever- but knew she could not.

She met your gaze in the mirror when you looked back.

Golden-brown eyes, filled with longing and sorrow.

She knew, too.

She had always known.

You swallowed against the lump rising in your throat. The distant sound of shouting, the clang of metal, the burning of the city below- it was getting louder.

“…Do you ever wish we could leave?” You whispered.

Her breath caught. A hesitation.

“…Every day,” She admitted. And your heart broke for her. For yourself.

For the life that could never be.

The chaos below grew closer- the sound of swords clashing, boots pounding up the castle steps. They were coming.

There was no time. No future. No way out.

Your fingers lifted, brushing against her cheek. Soft. Warm. Alive.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her lips parting slightly, her eyes flickering with fear, with need, with desperation-

And then you kissed her.

Not a soft thing. Not a hesitant thing.

But something urgent, something burning, something filled with the desperation of two lovers who knew they were out of time.

A kiss of fury, of grief, of love too big to be contained in a world too small for it.

She pulled you closer, her fingers digging into the silk of your gown, holding you, clutching you, clinging to you like she could tether herself to this moment, to you-

Then-

The doors burst open.

The room filled with shouting, with the gleam of blades, with the iron grip of soldiers as they stormed forward, tearing you apart.

You screamed, struggling against them, fighting, kicking, clawing, biting-

But your fate had already been sealed.

You saw her, your Lupin, your love, your heart, struggling, screaming your name, reaching for you-

And then- A soldier’s blade pierced your chest.

Cold. Sharp.

The world lurched, twisted- And then-

Darkness.

London was a city of smoke and gold. It was filth and grandeur, a place where the rich dined beneath glittering chandeliers while the poor shivered in the streets below.

And in the middle of it all- between the gas lamps and cobblestone alleys, between the choking smog and the perfume of wealth- you ran.

Your boots hit the pavement with a quiet rhythm, quick and light, barely making a sound as you weaved through the bustling crowds of Westminster Market. Your coat was patched and thin, your gloves fingerless, your stomach empty.

But that didn’t matter.

Because in your pocket, you now held a gold pocket watch.

Your lips curled in triumph. It was a beautiful thing- heavy, shining, the kind that belonged to someone important. Someone who wouldn’t even miss it.

Or so you thought.

Because just as you turned the corner into a shadowed alley, a hand closed around your wrist. Your breath caught.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to fight, to flee-

But then you looked up. And your world shifted.

Him.

A man, tall and fine-boned, wrapped in an elegant dark coat. His hair was soft brown, windswept, his golden-hazel eyes piercing in the dim light. He was young, maybe only a few years older than you, but there was something about him that felt older- as if he had lived a hundred years before this moment.

And despite catching you red-handed, his expression wasn’t one of anger. No.

It was curiosity.

Amusement, even.

His grip loosened, just slightly. “You’re quick,” He panted, voice smooth as silk, his accent refined.

“Not quick enough, but still. Impressive.”

You swallowed, heart pounding against your ribs. “Let go of me.”

“You stole from me,” He pointed out.

You smirked. “You can afford it.”

He actually laughed at that, low and warm, before slowly prying his pocket watch from your fingers. But he didn’t let go of you. Instead, he tilted his head, studying you, like he was trying to place you. Like he had seen you before.

“…What’s your name?” He asked, softer now.

You hesitated. Giving your name was dangerous in your line of work. But something about him- something familiar, something achingly familiar- made you whisper it anyway. His lips parted slightly, his grip on your wrist faltering.

And then- he whispered his own name.

A strange, unspoken recognition passed between you.

Like a secret. Like a memory half-forgotten.

Weeks Passed.

And somehow, against all reason, you kept finding him.

Or perhaps, he kept finding you. He was wealthy, but he was not cruel. A scholar, an artist, a man who saw the world in soft strokes of poetry and charcoal sketches.

And despite your differences- a boy from the slums and a gentleman of high society- you kept returning to him. Perhaps because he never treated you like a criminal.

He treated you like something else entirely. Something important.

Something he was afraid of losing.

One night, beneath the glow of gas lamps, you let him trace the lines of your face with careful fingers.

“You keep looking at me like you know me,” you murmured. His lips parted, breath shallow.

“…Maybe I do.”

And then, before either of you could think- You kissed him. The world tilted, time stretched thin between you, and for a moment, it felt like something had finally fallen into place.

Like this had happened before.

Like it had happened a thousand times before.

But fate, cruel as always, was waiting. Because London was not kind to men like you. It was not kind to pickpockets caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was not kind to a street thief who had stolen more than just coins and watches- who had stolen the heart of a man who should never have looked his way.

You never saw it coming.

One moment, you were running through the streets, laughing, alive- and the next, the constables had you by the collar, dragging you through the mud.

You never had the chance to say goodbye.

They didn’t let him see you before the sentencing. But he was there when they dragged you to the gallows.

And as the noose was slipped around your throat, you searched the crowd- desperate, desperate to find him.

And you did.

His face was pale, his hands clenched into fists, his golden-brown eyes filled with helpless horror. You had seen that look before.

The executioner read your crimes. You kept your eyes on Remus.

And in that final moment- As the platform dropped beneath your feet- As the world fell away- As you left him behind.

You thought you heard him scream.

Then, darkness.

Then- you were back home, in Feldcroft. The sun setting outside the small cottage, casting warm, golden light across the wooden floors. The air smelled of burning wood and herbs, a familiar scent- one that had lingered in your childhood.

And you?

You were at the table, a book in hand, curled up in your favorite chair. The world was quiet. Peaceful. But then-

Hands suddenly gripped your shoulders.

You gasped, nearly dropping your book- only to be met with a familiar grin, a familiar laugh, full of mischief and warmth.

“Sebastian!” You scolded, playfully swatting at him. “You scared me half to death!”

He only grinned wider, stepping back before tossing something small into your hands. A shrivelfig.

“For you,” he said with a wink. “It’ll make you stronger, you know.”

Before you could reply, another hand snatched it away.

“Absolutely not,” Solomon Sallow’s stern voice cut through the air. Your uncle gave Sebastian a look of pure warning, his eyes sharp with disapproval. “She doesn’t need you sneaking around with magic. She needs rest. A shrivel Fig cannot reverse a curse.”

Sebastian scoffed, his jaw tightening. “She needs more than just rest, Uncle. If we’d just-”

Your heart clenched. You had heard this argument a hundred times before.

Sebastian’s obsession with finding a cure.

Solomon’s desperate attempts to keep him away from dark magic.

And you- caught in the middle, growing weaker by the day.

A sudden wave of pain shot through you. You winced, gripping the table, your breath hitching. Immediately, Sebastian was at your side, one hand on your shoulder, concern darkening his features.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice urgent. “Are you alright?”

Solomon tensed, his gaze hardening. “Do you see what I mean, boy?”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed with anger. “I wouldn’t-”. But Solomon was already dragging him toward the door.

“Enough,” He snapped. “Outside. Now.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth but followed. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the house in silence.

You exhaled shakily, closing your eyes.

And then- A presence. Someone still here. You opened your eyes-

And met his.

Remus. From Sebastian’s letters.

He was watching you from across the room, hesitation written in every tense line of his body. He hadn’t followed them outside. He had stayed.

Slowly, he stepped forward, then knelt down beside your chair. His golden-brown eyes, warm and steady, studied you, searching for something.

He reached out- then hesitated.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re alright,” He said softly.

The words unraveled you.

No one ever said it. No one ever acknowledged the truth- that you were dying. That it was okay. That you could be seen in the smallest of moments and the shortest of times- without needing to be fixed.

Sebastian fought against it.

Solomon ignored it.

But he saw it.

And somehow, that made it real. You swallowed hard. “I’m not pretending.”

He gave you a look, one that said he didn’t believe you.

Then, without another word- he sat beside you. And that was all.

At first, he was just a friend.

Sebastian had introduced him- a quiet but sharp-witted student, someone with more patience than most.

Someone who- unlike Sebastian- believed that saving you meant more than just breaking every rule. And yet, despite his caution, he couldn’t seem to stay away.

He would sit with you during your worst days, reading aloud from books when you were too weak to lift them yourself.

He would walk with you through Feldcroft, letting you lean against him when the world became too much.

And when Sebastian grew more reckless, diving further into dark magic, forbidden spells, anything that might bring you back from the brink-

Remus fought to hold him back.

But it wasn’t enough. Sebastian went too far. The darkness took root.

And even when he destroyed Solomon, even when he sacrificed everything- It still wasn’t enough.

But for Remus, no. For Remus it was enough. To sit by you, by the fire. To listen to you talk in your final moments. Your uncle gone and your brother lost to his mind.

He reached out and placed a hand over yours. And when your fingers interlocked, he sighed. Staring at the fire, until your fingers loosened around his hand.

Until, darkness.

The Pub, 1978

The world slammed back into place. The scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke filled your lungs, the dim glow of the jukebox flickered in your peripheral vision. Laughter and conversation hummed around you. The wood beneath your fingers was real. Solid. Present.

But your body? Your mind? You had been somewhere else.

Across from you, Remus was shaking.

His breath came quick, his golden-brown eyes blown wide- not with confusion, but recognition. His hand still hovered where it had just brushed against yours, his fingers trembling like they had touched something far more than skin.

Something ancient.

Something inevitable.

You knew him.

Not just from this pub. Not just from this life. You knew him from a hundred lifetimes ago. From the fox and the hound. From the princess and her lady-in-waiting. From the thief and the gentleman. From Feldcroft. From every time you had found him- and every time you had lost him.

And now?

Now you were back.

His lips parted slightly, a breathless sound escaping, like he wanted to say something- like he didn’t know what he could possibly say.

You swallowed, heart pounding, the weight of a thousand lives pressing against your ribs.

“Remus,” You echoed again.

His fingers curled into a fist. His entire body tensed. And then, just as you saw him understand, just as his expression shifted, just as the words I remember nearly fell from his lips-

The door to the pub slammed open.

The moment shattered.

And then?

He did nothing.

Because what could he do?

What could you do?

Say it out loud? Confess to an impossible truth? Tell him that you had died in his arms over and over again?

That this time- this life- he had to stop it?

So you didn’t say anything.

You just sat there. Staring at each other.

Breathing.

And for now, that had to be enough.

Because in every life before, you had never feared the darkness. Just the loss.

~~~

The Great Hall buzzed with conversation. The sorting ceremony had ended, students were chatting excitedly, the feast had just begun. Plates were piled high, goblets filled with pumpkin juice.

Across the room, Teddy Lupin laughed, running a hand through his hair, which shifted colors between turquoise and soft brown as he spoke. His friends chuckled at something he said, shoulders bumping together, the easy comfort of a childhood spent side by side.

Then-

A hand brushed against his.

His laughter stilled.

The world tilted.

It was nothing.

A casual moment, an accidental touch. A transfer student- someone new, someone unfamiliar- reaching across the table to pass a plate of pastries.

But the second their fingers touched-

A jolt.

Something cold and distant- like the echo of a dream he couldn’t quite recall.

Teddy’s fingers twitched. His breath hitched. The transfer student blinked, eyes flickering to his face, lips parting slightly, as if they had felt it too- as if they knew.

Teddy swallowed. His heart pounded.

And then-

He pulled his hand away.

Just a little too fast. Just a little too tense.

His friends didn’t notice. The conversation continued around them. But the transfer student frowned, staring down at their hand for a moment too long, brows furrowing, like they had just remembered something they weren’t supposed to.

Teddy flexed his fingers beneath the table.

His mind whispered something.

Something about foxes and hounds.

Something about princesses and Ladies.

Something about picked pockets.

Something about darkened pubs and stolen moments.

Something about a name.

A name that felt like his and not his, all at once.

The world lurched- but just for a second.

And then?

The moment passed.

Teddy shook his head, forced a smile, and reached for his goblet like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just felt the weight of every life before this one.

Like he hadn’t just remembered exactly what came next.

[earnest-jumping]

Helloooo so I couldn't help myself and had to write a (semi-small, 2000+ word) fic to go along with this. I hope that is ok!

Fic under the cut:

Mornings in the Wachowski household were a production.

Of course, that wasn’t to say nighttimes weren’t a production. Wrangling three super powered kids to bed was a circus all of its own. 

But mornings? Mornings were their own ballgame. Shadow remembers the first one he’d been a part of. The false sense of security in waking to find Maddie the only other conscious member of the household, busy fixing coffee and eggs. Eyes taking in cups of juice that sat beside plates piled high with bacon and waffles. 

“Might as well get a plate and enjoy the silence,” she’d instructed, gesturing with the spatula she was using to scramble eggs, “while you can.”

His forkful of waffle had been halfway to his mouth when the morning had started with a bang. Knuckles above them, beginning his day by jumping from his bed and doing pushups. Then Tails, loudly complaining the echidna had woken him up-

And Sonic, already a chatterbox from the minute his mind drifted back to consciousness.

But even in the middle of all the chaos, there seemed to be some balance. Tom and Maddie above it all, stern but good-natured. Theatrics that never truly went too far. The easy and almost practiced way in which syrup, salt, and jugs for refilling juice all got passed from hand to hand. 

Easy. 

He should be used to it by now. 

So when Shadow wakes on the trundle bed pulled from beneath Sonic’s racecar bed just for him, an odd fluttery something filling him from the sounds of everyone already up and making a racket downstairs? He doesn’t like it.

He’s grateful the distance from the attic to the kitchen is enough to muffle the noise. He couldn’t imagine immediately waking to whatever was currently taking place at full volume.

I’ll just wait here a little longer, he thinks. Just until it calms down.

—

Twenty minutes go by, and it does not calm down. Shadow heaves a sigh as he pushes himself to sitting up.

The mishmash of blankets and sheets that had tangled around him are rubbing his fur the wrong way, and-

Elmo had fallen off the edge of the bed.

Hands dart out to rescue his red-furred stuffie from the floor next to the trundle. Elmo’d landed face down, a slight squish to his stitched grin. And yeah, maybe he was just stuffing and stitching. But that same fluttery feeling in him has Shadow’s emotions in a muddled mess, and he’d dropped his stuffie, his friend, his first really, truly his possession since his return to some semblance of normal life- on. the. floor.

Sorry. He thinks, smoothing a fist in circles over his chest. Sorry for dropping you. Sorry for being careless.

Elmo says nothing. Just continues looking at him with his ever-patient smile. 

It’s okay. The smile says back. It wasn’t on purpose. Elmo forgives Shadow.

Another raucous laugh drags the hedgehog from his conversation, the clinking of metal on ceramics an adjoining melody to the hollow growl of his stomach. He’s hungry. Sleeping in was nice while it lasted, but he needed food.

Maybe he could snag a bit of the french toast he smells in the air, before it goes soggy. It’s this goal that gets him finally untangling from the mess of fabric he’s lost in, one hand keeping hold of Elmo the entire way down the attic ladder and to the first floor landing.

“-because when he finally, I mean finally got to the end of the doors, he found probably the best and coolest secret in the whole universe!” Tom was narrating, waving an apple in one hand for emphasis. His boys are clustered around, leaning in over their plates to hang on to every word.

“What was it? What treasure did he behold at the end of his quest?” Knuckles urged him, attention nowhere near the open door frame Shadow hovered in. 

Tails’ ear twitched. “It’s got to be really cool if it was behind so many different doors.” 

“Tell us!” Sonic cried, french toast-topped fork flinging little drops of syrup towards his father. 

Tom’s grin took on a sharp edge while he leaned back in his chair. “Well, y’know, you’re not part of the monks, so I can’t tell you.”

“No way!”

“How could you- that story was so long!”

Knuckles threw himself back in his chair, arms crossing. “I admire the adherence to the monk’s code of honor, Father Donut. But I am blindsided by your deceit!”

Shadow watched the way Tom cackled, proud of himself for his long-winded joke. Gloved hands squeezed Elmo to his chest while he shuffled further into the kitchen.

“Oh, man- you only get to tell that joke to someone for the first time once. I can’t believe I forgot to use it until now!”

“I can’t believe you’re still stuck on a joke you heard in your sixth grade science class.” Maddie quipped from her spot leant against the countertops, hands cupping a lopsided, handmade mug painted varying shades of purple and pink.

Sonic groaned while stuffing his mouth with more french toast. The scene is so very homey, so domestic and comforting, but Shadow still can’t shake this squirming in his chest. 

He moves a bit further into the room, and finally eyes find his own. 

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead.” Tom chirps, moving his chair over a bit to make room for Shadow to fit in between him and Sonic. 

Instead of taking it, Shadow looks down at the head of Elmo. That same smile is peeking back at him, reassuring and gentle. 

Already, there are multiple hands trading serving spoons and offering helpings of whatever is on the table to be ladled onto a new plate. Tom is busying himself with pouring a new cup of juice to set at the spot made for him.

Sonic is opening his mouth to speak, hand holding a fork speared through with a new piece of french toast. Then he actually looks over to Shadow, and the ebony hedgehog watches eyes track down his face to land on the vibrant red friend in his arms.

The squirming feeling intensifies for only a moment. Shadow stands in a stalemate, unable to make himself move as he watches flickers of confusion and surprise roll like a wave over his blue counterpart’s features.

Finally, he raises one of Elmo’s paws. His fingers help it to wiggle side to side in a happy wave. 

Elmo says good morning to Shadow’s friends!

The rest of the family continues on their morning routine around them. Sonic’s brows smooth out from their confused furrow, then raise in understanding.

“Good morning, Elmo.” He calls, attention drifting just long enough to place the french toast onto the plate he’s finishing making for Shadow.

That attention turns right back to the two of them, standing in the middle of the kitchen as Shadow’s squirmy feeling settles into a low fuzziness. Sonic’s tail gives a lazy wiggle behind him to match Shadow’s energetic one.

To their credit, the rest of the room only manages a small hiccup in their routine before choruses of Good Morning Elmo! and Hi Elmo follows behind Sonic.

Only then does Shadow’s feet unglue from their spot on the tile, pushed forward by another growl in his tummy and the smiles sent his and Elmo’s way. The chair he settles in is big enough to cross his legs in, so he uses the lap space to sit Elmo in, upright and facing the table.

He turns his head to share a smile with Sonic to his left, who mouths another ‘good morning’ at him.

“We can cut up an apple for Elmo, right, Maddie?” Sonic requests, eyes big and pleading. One of his hands has wiggled its way to holding onto Shadow’s pinky, the touch firm but yielding in case it wasn’t wanted.

“As long as Elmo promises not to waste it or make a mess.” Maddie responds right away, looking to the little stuffie in her son’s friend’s lap with a raised brow. Shadow thinks for only a moment, then motions the monster to nod his head in agreement. 

“One apple in slices, coming right up.” Maddie acquiesces, moving to do just that after dropping a kiss to Tom’s head on her way past.

—

Once bellies have been sufficiently filled, and Tom has done his rounds of good-byes and gone to work, Maddie gets started on the dishes with the explicit instruction for the boys to ‘play nice and give her some space’ until at least ten thirty. With that in mind, the Wachowski boys lead Shadow and Elmo out into the backyard so they can show off their blueprints and plans for a treehouse structure spanning three sycamores. 

The woods behind the house are huge, they explain with enthusiasm, and are perfect for a base of operations for all kinds of mischief.

“And as training grounds for our recruits, eventually.” Knuckles adds, tapping at the space he’d mapped out in marker for a climbing wall and obstacle course.

Shadow gives a nod, unsure where these recruits would come from or what they would even be for. The idea looks interesting, at least.

“Y’know, we can add a space for you, too. Give you a room in one of the treehouses.” Sonic offers, picking up a red marker to do just that. Shadow’s nodding grows more enthusiastic, moving his hand to get Elmo to join in on the action.

“Can I ask-“ Tails begins, voice steady but awkward, “Shadow, why’re you bringing Elmo everywhere today?”

“I am wondering that as well. Could it be related to the vow of silence you have chosen to partake in?” Knuckles joins, hands at his hips. Eyes dart between the hedgehog and the monster he was keeping propped up to look like he was sitting on the picnic table.

Shadow’s stomach fills again with the squirming feeling. He’s ready to slide Elmo off the table and into his lap to cradle, or maybe even put away completely, when Sonic speaks up.

“It’s ‘cause I’m the best gift giver and he can’t contain how much he totally loves it. Plus, who doesn’t like soft and fluffy things? Right, Shadow?”

Yeah? Yeah, maybe that was it. Having Elmo around just kind of helped, today. Like as long as he could keep the fluffy monster at his side, he would be alright. Even not talking was okay, if Elmo could do it for him.

Elmo thinks it’s nice to take some time to be quiet for yourself, every once in a while. The smiling stuffie coos to him. Shadow plays with the soft arms, waving them up and down a few times before making him nod their agreement. 

Tails looks unconvinced, but a single look from Sonic has him bending back over his blueprints with his green marker. “You never got me a super nice present like that.” 

“Nonsense! You were very enthusiastic about the miniature train building device Sonic gifted you for the holiday tradition of gift-giving!” Knuckles argued, “You spent many hours on many days piecing together the delicate metalwork!”

“A stuffed animal would be nice, too.”

“Then perhaps I shall gift you one for your naming day! I will have our matriarch take me on a day when you are not with us, so it will be a surprise!”

Shadow tunes them out after that, content to run his hands over the soft fuzz on Elmo’s back like he was calming an upset child. Elmo didn’t mind. Elmo never minded if he was a little too squished in a hug, or if Shadow needed to squeeze his arm tight when his chest was too warm or his head felt too loud, like now.

“Hey.” 

Sonic’s voice pulls him back, free hand wrapped in his to squeeze him back into his brain. “You know you don’t gotta be embarrassed or anything, right? You can carry Elmo and not talk if you wanna.”

I know. Shadow mouths, squeezing back once before taking his hand back. 

“Good.” Sonic nods in approval, some tension ebbing out of his shoulders. “And Tails and Knuckles didn’t mean to make you feel that way, or get you upset. Sometimes they just let their mouths run ahead of their brains if they’re curious about somethin’.”

Only Tails and Knuckles? 

Shadow quirks a brow, making Sonic duck his head and laugh. “Okay, me too. But trust me, it’s all good.”

Friends that care about each other ask lots of questions to learn more about their friends! Elmo does it all the time.

Shadow brings the stuffed monster to his cheek, letting the threads of his smile brush over the fur there in soft back-and-forth motions. The squirmy feeling finally leaves again, and he settles Elmo back into his lap just as Knuckles and Tails are busy bickering over where they would put the ziplines.

“Do you wanna hear a joke?” Sonic asks, eyes glued to Elmo when Shadow turns his head to look at him.

A joke? Shadow tilts Elmo’s head up, bead eyes looking at his. A joke would be nice. It might be better than sitting listening to treehouse plans that he can’t contribute to.

Elmo loves jokes and laughing!

Both of them turn to Sonic, nodding. The blue hedgehog breaks into a wild grin, body moving on the picnic bench to fully face the two of them. 

“Okay, so there’s this monk place, right? And a guy’s car has broken down there a bunch, and every time he sees these monks going in and out of a secret door-“

The chatter over treehouses grinds to a halt, and twin groans interrupt Sonic’s story.

“You’re not telling it right! And it’s called a monastery-“

“Perhaps we should wait for Father Donut to tell it.” Knuckles offers, though the idea is immediately forgotten, and they all begin an easy trade off of bits and pieces in a story about a man, monks, and a secret behind an alarming number of doors.

 Shadow’s face twitches into a smile as he listens, arms wrapped tight around Elmo as they both settle in to listen.

------

Ahhhh I really hope you liked it! Selectively mute, autistic Shadow is SUCH a relatable character and his attachment to Elmo is such a mood and so cute.

N.E. Ways, tysm for your beautiful art !

Okay, another small thing for Shadow being the biggest Elmo fan.

[kamospeach]

too many white lies and white lines .ᐟ

plot: bestfriend!satoru helps his best friend get over her crush on Ryomen Sukuna

content warning: angst, mentinos of: drug and alcohol use, violence, fingering, oral f!recieving, piv sex, domestic violence

peachy's yap: wc 1.2k.ᐟ no thoughts except Gojo. this just a short little thought! just tryna clear out my drafts sighhh.

bestfriend!satoru who can't fathom why you're not together already. who waits for you, anywhere at any time, no matter how weird-looking or sketchy it is.

bestfriend!satoru shows his love by holding you in his arms during group movie nights or having you sit in his lap when there were more than enough seats. or when he kissed your cheek when you were leaving his house to go down the street to yours.

bestfriend!satoru knew you didn't see him like that, and you didn't feel the butterflies like you felt with sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru understood how you felt, ryo was tall and muscular and totally your type.

bestfriend!satoru, suguru, and you who were born in the same year. your parents were best friends and made you all have a tight-knit friendship. years later, you acquired more friends like shoko, utahime, sukuna, and kento, who always brought along haibara.

bestfriend!satoru and suguru's would drive you all to a party or even a small diner that was open late at night. tonight you were all heading to a club which was a new scene for you. you used this as an an opportunity to seduce sukuna into wanting you.

bestfriend!satoru was forced to sit in the front with utahime. you clung onto sukuna's muscular arm, staring up at his chiseled jawline with heart eyes. you even follow behind him as you walk to the front door of the club. but sukuna made it obvious you weren't his interest. he's feet in front of you as you talk to the back of his head.

bestfriend!satoru knows of your energy-depleting crush on sukuna. his arm snakes around your waist placing a kiss on your forehead in comfort. you once again not noticing the gesture was romantic and not platonic.

"you think he'll ever notice me satoru?" you asked and he shook his head.

"i don't think so, love. ryo only treats women as toys it's better you don't get involved with him anyway. i'm sorry to disappoint you."

bestfriend!satoru rubs small circles on the exposed skin of where he held your waist. you both walked into the club, of course, on the VIP list due to the status you all held. 

"well i just thought maybe since we've been friends for so long, he'd treat me... differently," you admitted and he nodded. satoru hated to admit it but you were bringing the mood down.

"hey let's not think about it okay? we wanted a night out so let's enjoy it." he smiled and you nodded walking in sitting in the section.

bestfriend!satoru said to enjoy it but this is not what you thought he meant. the coke, the shots of liquor that never stopped coming, some passed out, eyes rolled to the back of their heads.

bestfriend!satoru was more surprised, sukuna, who was a fuckin' unit was high head thrown back. eyes bloodshot white powder under his nose as he twitched lightly here and there.

bestfriend!satoru, suguru, and you looked at each other in absolute horror these were not the people you thought you knew. you three slipped out of the club not wanting to 'disturb' their high. honestly, the night felt like a fever dream to you and you were in utter shock.

bestfriend!satoru could see the fear on your face, probably from the way utahime reached across the table trying to bring her key to your nose. you slapped it away looking at her incredulously as she grew angry. she yelled at you saying 'do you have any idea how much a pinch of this cost!' you not caring to know, only shrugged refusing to even look at the white substance on the table.

bestfriend!satoru held your waist as suguru asked if you guys were coming to his place and you shook your head. you really wanted to lay in your bed and reel in your thoughts.

bestfriend!satoru knew that was what you needed. he wanted to be everything ryomen sukuna couldn't be for you. he wanted to be your savior and tonight that's what he'd be.

"i got her." he smiled and suguru nodded walking over to his car.

bestfriend!satoru took you home offering to come in and stay with you and you of course said yes. he sat on your bed while you took your shower looking around the room he's slept in many nights before.

bestfriend!satoru listened to you rant about the night as he watched you get dressed. hardon pressing against his pants as he watched you jump to put on those small shorts that barely covered your ass. he really wished you kept them off.

bestfriend!satoru opened his arms inviting you to lay with him your cheek pressed against his chest. no tv no lights just you wrapped in satoru and the darkness.

bestfriend!satoru who was feeling bold and knew you needed a distraction slowly rubbed your back moving lower and lower by the minute. your eyes had adjusted to the dark and you could see his big blue eyes looking at you.

bestfriend!satoru moved his hand to your ass gripping it as you moaned. you loved the feeling of his soft hands on your ass. the way he rubbed slowly some of his fingers grazing under the shorts.

bestfriend!satoru couldn't hold back anymore as he flipped the both of you over. pressing the tent of his hard cock on the prominent imprint of your pussy on your shorts. he ground his hips into yours groaning at the feeling.

"is... is it okay for me to fuck you?" he asked and you nodded needing him just as bad.

bestfriend!satoru knew you did this because you wanted to get over sukuna. but he didn't care. he didn't care you were only letting him pull down your shorts and panties because you wanted to get over sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you were only letting him finger your needy wet pussy and suck on your hard nipples because you wanted to get over sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care you were only letting him taste your sweet pussy and you only squirted in his mouth saying how much you loved it because you wanted to get over sukuna.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you let him fuck your tight cunt senseless because you wanted to get over sukuna. or that you yelled out 'fuck ryo' while he fucked you because you imagined sukuna and not him.

bestfriend!satoru didn't care that you let him nut in you and you told him you loved him. didn't care that you clung to him like a koala and whispered how good he made you feel just because you needed to get over that man. ryomen sukuna.

ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when you went to sukuna the day after and got with him. he did care when sukuna took you on dates and told you how much he loved you.

ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when sukuna told you that you couldn't be friends with satoru and suguru anymore. he cared when he saw your energy-depleted face around town

ex-bestfriend!satoru did care when sukuna forced you to stay in the house at all times. he cared when you texted him and told him that sukuna was drunk and you were scared he'd hit you.

bestfriend!satoru did care when he bursted into your apartment beating the shit out of sukuna. he cared when he saw your shaking body hiding in your closet.

bestfriend!satoru did care when you told him you loved him and he couldn't deny he still loved you after everything the two of you had been through.

[vinyldraconia]

MAAAN ALRIGHT MY FNAF 4 MALLEUS SHITPOST ACTUALLY GOT ME THINKING SHIT LOL!!! OKAY HERE'S AN IN-DEPTH THING ON HOW HE'D OPERATE IN FNAF 4:

OVERBLOT MALLEUS IN FNAF 4

(all pics are in-game screenshot edits of me drawing malleus & fireflies over it!)

Overblot Malleus can appear in either one of the entrances: left door, right door, or the closet. He can only appear at one entrance at a time, so no clone Malleuses LOL

When checking any one of these, you may start to see fireflies. These always mean that he's approaching and are always visible, even without the flashlight turned on. If you wait for a while without checking where the fireflies appear, they'll eventually vanish.

If you check where they appeared too soon, then you'll start to see Malleus appear at the far end of the hallway/in the far corner of the closet. He's hidden in the dark, so only his glowing horns and eyes are visible, along with the gradually increasing fireflies. At this point, he's gonna show up regardless and won't go away until he's checked in on you.

[ MORE YAPPING BELOW SINCE THE POST IS SUPER LONG ]

If you decide to check again, Malleus will appear closer to the door: still far away, but close enough to see his face when you shine the flashlight on him. If he was in the closet, his head will be peering over from the side, almost like he's tryna be playful.

Once you go back to the room, it should all seem okay at first, with the nightmare animatronics doing their own thing. But after a few moments, you may start to hear him humming a gentle lullaby while everything's happening. HE KNOWS YOU'RE AWAKE. THIS IS WHEN YOU GOTTA IGNORE THE OTHER NIGHTMARES AND PRETEND TO BE ASLEEP! too bad if too many of them glitchy teddy bears is on the bed when this happens

As FNAF 4 is heavily focused on listening to sound cues, Overblot Malleus' is no different:

If you choose to close your eyes and pretend to sleep:

Malleus' sound cues come in stages: You will hear his gentle humming grow closer first, then the sound of the door/closet opening (he doesn't close it back). After a few moments, you'll hear him breathing calmly next to you, standing there for about 10 seconds to 25 seconds. After that, you'll start to hear his footsteps grow distant, followed by the sound of him closing the door veeeery slowly (or if in the closet, you'll hear magical crickets or smthn, whatever sound he makes when he's teleporting LOL). You can open your eyes back at this point, but DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR OR CHECK THE CLOSET YET!! You gotta listen very close and wait until his footsteps down the hallway/his teleportation sfx in the closet fades away completely.

If you try to check without his footsteps fading all the way completely, you will hear him chuckle before coming right back to do the same thing over again.

However, if you decide to...

❌ Open the door/closet: he'll appear RIGHT at the door with his towering presence/have his whole head out thru the closet (like Foxy). In both scenarios, his overblot presence will cause your flashlight to flicker off, only leaving his glowing features visible in the darkness. (I don't have drawings for these yet, maybe i'll do it in the future)

❌ Open your eyes: he'll appear next to the bed, staring at you. At this point, closing your eyes again won't do anything.

And for both scenarios, after that it's............. *OVERBLOT MALLEUS JUMPSCARE ANIMATION*

OK THANK U FOR LISTENING TO MY FNAF MALLEUS RAMBLING ‼️‼️

[justmeforeverlive]

Across the universes

Hi! This my first fic dedicated to the MCU fantastic four. It's set in the multiverse of madness. Mainly Johnny x reader but it'll include the rest of the FF. Enjoy!

You were fighting along side Dr. Strange, trying to stop Wanda from getting the Darkhold, opening portals left and right that lead to different universes, the situation was escalating quickly. You almost got a hold of the book, when a red blaster from the former Avenger sent you flying from a cross the room. While losing consciousness, the Scarlet Witch voice echoed in your mind:

¨If you knew there was a universe where you were happy, wouldn’t you wanna go there?¨

A bright white light was the first thing you noticed when you came to it, the second thing was a funny looking machine hooked onto your arm. Pushing your body forward, the hospital room came into view. Why were you there? Did the fight ended up so bad you couldn’t remember getting to the hospital?

You were so focused in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear the door opening

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m glad to see you’re awake, I’m doctor Roan and I’ve been treating you since your arrival”

“How long have I’ve been here?

“3 days, you didn’t suffer major injuries that we could detect but the fact it took so long for you to regain full awareness, is enough to be concerning, so we’re gonna be taking some tests if that is okay with you?

You accepted in hopes to leave faster, but before reaching the door, doctor Roan said:

“By the way, we’ve called your family, they must be here in any moment”

That sentence was enough for all the alarms in your head to start ringing. You had no family left, that’s why Stephen Strange was willing to take you in as his apprentice/side kick, so either they are confusing you with someone else or the most likely option: you were in one of the many alternative universes Wanda had unleash during the fight.

Fuck, you had leave this place immediately, the more time you spend in another reality, the more consequences it would bring to the natural order. Carefully you unwrapped yourself from the hospital stuff and were about to use some of it to make it out of the window, when a loud gasp made you turn.

A blonde woman had rushed to your side, preventing you from successfully escaping the room. You tried to brushed her off gently but your body was still sluggish after spending days laying on a bed, so instead of freeing yourself from her grasp, all you managed to do was loosing balance and both of you ended on the floor.

“Ow, Y/N, are you OK? Can you stand? Her voice was slightly panicked due to your lack of response, she turned her head and said:

“Johnny, don’t just stand there, come help me!”

The guy in question was frozen in place, looking at you in disbelief and if the whole situation wasn’t as freaky as it was, you might have blushed by having such a handsome man staring at you.

Sensing the awkwardness, a change of tactic seemed to be needed, so maybe if you deflected enough, they’ll go away.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine really, just a little out of it, but I’ll sleep it off. Maybe you can come back tomorrow”  

She frowned, apparently that was the wrong thing to say

“Y/N, we’re not gonna leave you here alone, we were so worried about you” she tried to reach for a strand of your hair but the sudden movement made you flinch. She seemed hurt by your reaction but it was quickly replaced with suspicion.

“You… know who we are right?”

A beat passed. The blue eyed guy seemed to finally catch up with the conversation cause he sat right next you and studied your face carefully.

“You don’t remember me?” He sounded so devastated, like a piece of him had been ripped apart, staring at you in hopes of rekindling a sense of recognition that simply doesn’t exist.

“I’m sorry”

[runawaybridee]

"flowers, i know. pretty sappy." - k. bakugou

fluffy drabble, snuck in some kamijirou:3, 474 wc (so short)

katsuki bakugou thinks of himself as a rough guy. he doesnt think valentine's day is that important. it's just a stupid holiday. it's not like it means anything important, right?

it's ten till six, and he's just got back from training. after many grueling hours. he makes his way to your dorm (aizawa will definitely murder him, but he doesnt really care).

as he's reaching for the knob, he hears your pretty voice. "it's like.. does he even like me?" he can hear your whiny tone. "i dunno, ribbit, maybe he just forgot." that damn frog. of course she's in your dorm, right when he wants you to cuddle study with him.

he continues listening to the conversation, he's not eavesdropping, just.. being a caring boyfriend.

"tsu, how could he forget? it's constantly in his face! i mean denki 'nd jirou are even going out for valentine's day!" bakugou lets out a soft huff, silently cursing himself for not thinking about this stupid holiday. he didnt forget, shitty hair has been talking about it 24/7. he just didnt think that you wanted him to ask you.

bakugou finds himself standing in front of his mirror, hyping himself up like an idiot. he got flowers, also some chocolates. he spent 10,000 yen on these flowers. he feels pathetic, he doesnt worry about little things like this.

the most embarrassing part of this is walking all the way to your dorm, which is on a different floor, and he obviously has to walk through the common room in front of his classmates. he gives mineta a dirty look when he hears him snicker. "shut it, you damn extra. you dont even have a girl to be your valentine." that shuts up the purple boy, who just pouts like a child.

he's at your door now, his knuckles hovering over the wood before he finally knocks. he hears your voice call out, "coming!" what if you dont like the flowers? what if you shove the chocolate in his face and rip the bouquet apart? oh god--now youve opened the door.

he clears his throat, "uh, hey." he shoves the bouquet into your hands. "kats'? what is this.." he scoffs, trying to mask his nervousness for indifference. "flowers, i know. pretty sappy.." you raise a brow, looking up at him.

"why did you get me these?" "'cause yer my valentine, idiot." he says quietly, his nickname for you. "i am?" youre a clueless thing, even though he's your boyfriend of five months, he's not the most affectionate. you dont mind, because he makes up for it in other ways.

"yeah, you like 'em?" he murmurs, sound almost.. insecure? you nod quickly, "i do! i love them, kats'!" he looks down at you, picking at his fingernails. "i also got you chocolate, but.. it melted in my pocket."

you laugh, your eyes managing to crinkle. "come in, babe."

bakugou sighs in relief, stepping into your dorm. he closes the door behind himself and stares at you. "so, valentine, wanna watch a movie?"

this was so rushed omgomg, hes slightly ooc but idrc🤕also not proofread lols

masterlist , taglist

[nightscythe]

the primarchs as dom/sub

sorry if this has been done before, I just couldn't get it out of my head. based this on my more dark view of the lore/universe and how I write them. there is a secret third (sixth?) option, vanilla.

nsfw, 18+ below the cut. mostly pre-heresy

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the lion: dom. top of the charts. in his everyone is there to serve him, and you are no different. into all that humiliation and degradation, thoroughly enjoys the way you writhe under him and beg him so desperately. he'll hold your face towards him and ask you if you really deserve him in that way. makes you beg until you're crying. he just looks at you lovingly and finally gives you what you want, not before he makes it agonisingly slow for you. will still please you just to prove a point and he's surprisingly good at it, especially with his huge hands and his tongue. loves you deep down, but truly believes its his place to be above you and telling you what to do. gets you to clean him up afterwards and maybe lets you lay with him.

fulgrim: switch. it's too easy to say he's into everything, but I do believe he would try everything at least once, and is happy to indulge anything he likes. sometimes that's putting a collar on you and admiring his view as he tells you step by step what you'll be doing next. sometimes it's being held down to the bed with the softest of ribbons as you pour hot wax over his chest. he wants to explore what there is to offer and if you're open to it, so is he. so that does mean odd things as well, unexpected little kinks and treats along the way. admires the marks left on both your skin and his, as long as its not permanent.

perturabo: soft dom. doesn't like giving up his control to you, but doesn't reach the hard limits of dominating you fully. his touch is soft and his words and commanding, but only because he is usually like that. probably prefers to not treat you like another one of his men behind closed doors... but still doesn't want you telling him what to do. most probably tried it once and hated it (secretly didn't mind it but he struggles with actually acting submissive, as much as he wanted to be babied some more). there's not many kind words, just pulling your hair where he wants you, grunting as a return of satisfaction, pushing your face into the mattress but giving you enough room to breathe. its a personality thing, really.

the khan: soft dom. he would explore with you, try many things to understand what they are and how they feel, but ultimately he wants to take care of you. the natural result of that is someone who's stroking your cheek and hushing away the tears as you choke on his cock for the seventh minute straight. calls you his baby (or like, something equivalent) as he watches you use him to get yourself off, whimpering and moaning his name, something which genuinely warms him. can make any day better for you, loves to whisper to you how much he cares for you, loves to make you forget anything bad happened with those hands and fingers of his. tucks you in afterwards, protects you with his whole being. aww.

leman: vanilla. my most controversial take. my feeling is he craves connection and someone who understands him, and he's a passionate lover. that isn't to say he wouldn't try being dominant or submissive (probably the latter less so) but his preference is vanilla. something pure filled with emotions. he's so caught up in the moment that he doesn't have time to stop and thinking about telling you to what to do and how to do it. he just goes with whatever happens. maybe externally he puts on a gruff and domineering persona but actually, that doesn't matter to him. he just wants to see you happy and whatever that takes he will do - so he'd happily try any of the kink stuff you wanted. just don't expect him to want to be called daddy/master/etc or submit to you.

dorn: switch. thought about him being vanilla but I don't think he would be. its an interesting world to explore. he's perceptive to whatever you need, but understands that one person has to take a submissive role, and one person a dominant role. maybe that goes to extremes sometimes and he's telling you to call him sir, or he's presenting himself to you tied up (because you may have enjoyed that), but mostly its just the soft things. likes it either way and lets you take control most of the time. only thing he's precious about is giving head, he will always do that in the most submissive way, like he's feasting on nectar from the gods, blessed with each move of his tongue. an interesting experience, to say the least.

curze: soft dom. thinks it is his place to be in control but isn't precious about it like some of his brothers. not as gentle or as caring as he could be during sex but he certainly takes the lead and has something to show about it. wraps his fingers around your neck, holds your hands down against the bed so you can't move, leaves bite after bite over your neck and chest until you're covered in a reminder that you are his. in the same vein, quite possessive, and his more dominant tendencies seem to come out of that is threatened. would probably overstimulate you to let out his frustrations and remind you again that you are his. greedy is the word. wants all of you, to himself, forever and ever. kinks is a different story, but is holding your head underwater until you cum a really dominant thing..?

sanguinius: sub. sorry but like, the first ever thing I thought about with him was calling him a good boy. a very soft lover in general, he lets you take control and thrives off being told how well he is doing, that he's the one who makes you feel this good. isn't afraid to whimper for you, lay down all his strength just so you can tie his pretty arms to the frame of a bed and stroke him over and over again until he begs for it. endures it all just so he can see you ride him. lets you push him around test him. oh, he loves it when you tease him. cockwarming. rubbing him through his clothes. whispering to him that he needs to wait, but doing everything in your power to make him cum there and then? would do absolutely anything for you.

ferrus: soft dom. a bit vanilla at first, with actions and feelings not being his strongest selling point. a man of practicalities seeks to understand everything about you and learn your interests. but of course strength and perfection is key to him. everything he does is dominant. it starts with seeking you out, pushing you against the wall, lips ghosting your ear as you feel how much he needs you. the smirk when he feels how wet you are from just... the thought of him. every movement is precise, and equally intense. you feel all of him, and he makes sure you understand that he is in control here. making up with him in this manner may result in more dominant, hot tempered moments, telling you exactly what he's going to do, and you're going to like.

angron: vanilla. maybe a bit controversial as well. was thinking soft dom but then changed my mind, he's just naturally imposing and domineering but not dominant. when he had the capability to understand love and relationships in that way, I feel it was very personal to him. he wanted to feel the truth, not arbitrary words of praise or command. so therefore it does not steer in a particularly dominant or submission direction for either of you, it's a moment of you being truly together. probably the least kinky as well imo. as time progresses it becomes more feral, more of an untamed desire, which is still unmatched to either side. personality wise he is probably more dominant though so take that as you will.

guilliman: soft sub. but like close to vanilla. he doesn't need to be told what to do or pushed around, but just a little guidance. someone to kneel beside him, stroke him slowly, maybe play around with him to test his limits, really learn to understand him. very eager to please you especially when he's between your legs looking up at you with his eyes wet and eyes devious. just tell him he did well, you enjoyed it. makes him come back for more. almost a bit timid, afraid he may hurt you in some way, shy as well. of course by the time he is resurrected he's just baby boy™ but also a regent so the second he has some time away from, you know, being the regent, he just wants forget everything else going on and get lost in you.

mortarion: dom. how could he be anything else? at first its just letting out his frustrations but then it's something more. primal. there's no maybes with him, no suggestions. he tells you what to do and you do it. sometimes he would be a bit softer, but its rare and usually when he's tired or his mind is elsewhere. he's in control of everything, he tells you when you can cum, he tells you when you can move, and god forbid you don't listen to him. if he hasn't given you permission well... its a week of edging and desperation for you. likes seeing you helpless before him. but when it's all finished and his needs are dealt with, he's got his arms around you and he won't let go. a weird way of registering his feelings.

magnus: switch. thought about this one too long. sometimes he'd love to be cared for, have his hair stroked as you praise him. other times, he's got you up against a wall and using all that size to his advantage. kind of like exploring what their is to offer, but his preferences do not lean towards dom or sub individually, maybe just a very small amount towards sub because he feels utterly useless without being told just how well he is doing. doesn't mean he's not smug about it when he finds you alone thinking about it. that's when his more dominant side comes out. if we are talking about demon form though it's definitely dom all the time.

horus: soft dom. it's not that he can't be fully dominant. he can. but why do it when he can be taken care of with soft kisses and making you happy too? hence the soft bit. likes to watch with his hand in your hair as you suck him off. tells you to take a little more of him and softly encourages you, never forces you. it's like a subtle hint, one you will get, or he'll just add a touch more dominance for show. discovers the daddy kink by accident and is fascinated with it. show daddy what a good girl you've been. holds your hands down as he's behind you. praises you gently and rewards you for small things during the day. probably loves going down on you as well as a reward for bigger things. but he'd never take it too far, he just enjoys the simpler things.

lorgar: sub. so eager to please. wants to be rewarded. he'd be on his knees for days if you'd let him, begging, wanting a small taste. even just your scent makes him hard. would wait for your command to do anything - touch himself, touch you, etcetc. whines and whimpers until you finally let him cum each time. at first its seems like he hates it but he does very much like it. any time you don't tell him what to do he looks lost and needs your guidance. based on this he would always let you be on top and especially likes it when he can look at you and worship you. every part of your body is divine to him. any time you're apart he's thinking of you and wondering when he will next get to hear your voice command him around. whipped.

vulkan: soft dom. super protective of you and isn't afraid to show it. has you take about your day as he goes down on you. tells you not to stop and looks to you curiously when you can't get your words out straight. is always so gentle though he could never reach the level of dominance like some of his brothers, its barely even soft dom - it's gentle, passionate, but every single one of his movements means something. tells you how well you are doing as you take his whole length and holds you close. likes hearing every sound you make and still asks permission to do everything, uttering things like may I? as his lips and tongue finds your body. really cautious of hurting you.

corax: dom. nothing soft about him. maybe to everyone else he looks like he would not value anything physical, but really, he's an absolute...menace? has you over his knee letting out his frustrations one spank at a time. likes it when you cry his name. rubs you through your clothes and laughs when you're an overstimulated mess on the floor. master/slave dynamic at some points. and it feels like it goes on and on for hours with him, he plays out fantasies in his head, has you on your knees then in his lap making you watch in the mirror as you cry and beg. but afterwards he would clean you up every time and fall asleep with you between his arms because he's quietly, and a lot less obviously, devoted to you too.

alpharius: soft sub. though he could be anything. i like to think one twin is soft sub and one is soft dom, which would technically make the single entity a switch. is it too late to change? considering I see him as a bit of a yandere it may be a bit of a surprise, but his darker side is outside the bedroom. inside, he is sweet and innocent, he's begging for praise and to be held. has you straddling his lap with your fingers in his mouth making him wait patiently for you to be ready to actually please him. handsy, touches you everywhere, barely contains himself around you. you'd get suspicious when he tells you to stop, throws you onto the mattress and takes you from behind... but hey, they don't know what each other are like. daydreams about you though. has a little notebook with hearts around your name but no one can see it.

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I know not everyone will agree but I hope I at least made you think!!