#why did i just feel a sharp pain in my lower back when i'm literally just 🕴️

[foureyedfella]

☆I've gotten the case of a little art block so I'm sharing my headcanons on what I think the biggest injuries each fighter has had (apart from bring in the ring!)

Glass Joe

☆man what hasn't happened to Joe it's hard to pinpoint his biggest injury 😭 his biggest was probably a combo: twisting his ankle and then falling down the stairs due to said ankle. While trying to get him on a leveled area, Disco Kid and Bear Hugger drop him (butter fingers). Several bones broken and a concussion 😞

Von Kaiser

☆ Prank gone wrong.

☆ His students tried setting up like a Kevin McCallister home alone prank, miscalculated how bad the punching bag would swing, sent Kaiser FLYING-

☆If anyone wonders why the boxing schools' water fountain is snapped off the wall, it was him

☆ Dislocated his jaw, and if he is still or resting he can still feel the lower back pain from the incident 💀

Disco Kid

☆ He was in a paired up dancing competition, and his partner was NOT locked in 🙏

☆ During the climax of the dance, Disco Kid needed to spin mid air and get caught by his partner. His partner did not catch him.

☆Cracked his skull, but was more upset to find out they would have made it to qualifiers if it weren't for the infraction

King Hippo

☆Rogue Coconut.

☆This in itself isn't terrible, but it KEPT happening on the same spot on his noggin.

☆Severe concussion, can still hear the coconut conk when its quiet.

Piston Hondo

☆ He is honestly pretty careful and mindful when doing stuff so he probably has not had anything catastrophic happen to him

☆Unfortunately his carefulness does not account for those around him. He was caught in the Bear Hugger Fishing Fiasco.

Bear Hugger

☆The Fishing Fiasco.

☆Was on a fishing trip with Hondo, decided to try to get all fancy with his cast.

☆To be fair, the motion of his fishing line was cool- unfortunately a badly timed sharp swing while the fishing hook was still swinging behind him sent the hook straight across their backs

☆Both got stitches done

Great Tiger

☆ To the surprise of no one it would be Aran to cause his demise 💀

☆ He was doing an eye coordination test on Aran with his clones, with the goal being that Aran can still spot him after shuffling between the clones.

☆What he did NOT expect was for Aran to just lunge at him AND his clones at once, safe to say he found the real Great Tiger

☆Fractured neck, for the 2 months he wore a neck brace, he made sure to not leave Aran alone about it

Don Flamenco

☆ His heart 😢 por Carmen 😢

☆I'm lying, he was drunk one night doing the bachata on a flimsy table, it quite literally folded on him

☆ Everyone was too drunk to take anyone anywhere, so he just woke up the next morning in agony 😭

Aran Ryan

☆ Tried getting into a classic bar fight like he was back in the grand city of Dublin at the pub, except he's not and he was in America

☆Definitely got shot, but it grazed him so he clowned the guy on his way out for not getting the job done right, passed out after the adrenaline rush

Soda Popinski

☆ Also incredibly drunk one night, decided to put his juggling skills to the test with more and more stupid objects

☆ Curse whoever recommended him knives because he did just that

☆Several hand stitches, claims they're from boxing so he doesn't have to bring up how he actually got them

Bald Bull

☆ Early in his career when he was setting his persona straight, his manager was pretty adamant on having bull tied into it

☆ Did this really need to involve actual charging bulls at him? No, not at all. Was he doing pretty good wrangling them? Yeah honestly but you can only do so much with so many bulls

☆ Got rammed. Broken ribs, and a fired manager

Super Macho Man

☆ Unironically got into a "how much you bench bro" squabble with some other meathead at the gym

☆ He did NOT have the physique he has now so idk what he was thinking actually

☆ Tore his chest muscles, devastated that he ruined his precious pecs 😞

Sandman

☆ Actively chooses to gatekeep this information. Never shares it

☆ (but between you and me, he absolutely snapped his arm in an arm wrestling competition when he was younger.)

☆ It took way too long to heal and it pisses him off when he thinks about it now

☆ Little side note, but the punch out community has been so awesome here, I was surprised to find such a nice community when I started posting you guys have been so awesome 😁

☆ I love that everyone has such differing opinions from eachother and we're all like "👍" I love hearing everyone's headcanons

[jellyskink]

A fish out of water. (Idk I wanted to make the title reference Stan's Cipher Zodiac symbol but I couldn't think of a witty way how. Is it even a fish?? Idk I see a fish lol.)

("Wherever we go, we go together alright bro?")

Light filled the room as Stan flipped the lightswitch to his condo. Soft white light filled the room, a mixture of trash and trinkets littered the room in front him.

(Right... I forgot I've been needin' to take care of that. Eh I'll get to it tomorrow. The twins won't be back here until a couple of days.)

Reaching up to scratch his chin, a sharp pain registered as his hand scratched his chin and lower lip.

(OW Ffff-french toast... Figures I'd forget about the number that guy did on the old kisser.)

Earlier that day another jerk had mistaken him for his twin. The usual routine, of course he made sure to return the favor with interest though. There's no way that guy would be seein' anything with his left eye for a good while after the mark he left on it.

(Welp, better get to trying to fix this up. Mabel and Ford'll definitely worry even more than usual if this gets infected.)

Saying that, the old man shuffled over to his bathroom, dodging the miscellaneous items that covered the floor.

(Aight let's get this over with...)

The bathroom was a little disorganized, but everything was more or less the same as it usually was. Still, it was a bit of an adjustment to get used to having Mabel (and to an extent Dipper's) stuff in the sink cabinet along with his own.

Searching through the wave of clutter in the cabinet, Stan eventually found the peroxide he was searching for, to his dismay he did find he was out of normal band-aids, so he was forced to use the box of band-aids covered with designs of puppies, kittens, and narwhals.

(Really hope Mabel doesn't mind I'm usin' one of her band-aids...)

Stan knew she wouldn't, heck she'd insist he use them, but Stan couldn't help but feel at least a little bit guilty for needing to ask for handouts from her, a kid.

Cleaning up the wound was about as fun as it could be, but it wasn't the worst. God knows he's had to clean up way worse.

After quickly slapping a kitten band-aid with the words "Paw-Sum Dude!" onto his wound, he found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror.

(Geez, I guess I'll never escape bein' pointdexter's shadow sometimes huh?)

It was to be expected with being a twin right? Especially if one was more famous than the other.

Although these days that "popularity" was more negative than positive.

(At least it wasn't the dog treats n' cat biscuits thing this time. I HATE when they do that.)

Geez what would Pa think with how they turned out, what would MA think?

Times like these he really wished he could literally beat some sense into people. If he could only make people understand Ford like he did, or at least, like he THOUGHT he did.

(Shoot, he started thinking like this again.)

Like a slideshow in science class, bits and pieces of memories of his youth flashed by in a blink of an eye.

Fond memories of their times on the beach, their first day of school, to the awkward start of learning to box.

To the less wonderful times, the fights between their parents or the family in general, times the two got hurt defending themselves from bullies, to all of the times the two fought.

...

"This was no accident, Stan; you did this! You did this because you couldn't handle me going to college on my own!"

(Crap, I'm dwellin' on this again? Why? It's been years since that dumb mistake!)

And yet it wasn't just a dumb mistake was it? It was THE dumb mistake. The one that cost Ford his dream college, the one that ruined their relationship for so many years, the one one that got Stanley kicked out onto the streets by their Father and was forced to survive all those years on his own.

(If only I had manned up and had told the truth about that dumb machine earlier, we probably could've fixed it. I could've prevented all of the junk that I caused to the family, I probably could've PREVENTED Ford from ever getting involved with that dumb triangle!)

But... was their any truth to that? In a perfect world where Stan didn't screw up once again, could he confidently say things would've been better?

(Why didn't he say anything that day? Why didn't he stand up against Pa that day? Did I screw up so much he hated me that much?)

The funniest part about that was he could'nt even ask Ford about it. If he did, Ford got this distant look on his face while havin' a 50/50 shot of either spacing out for a good while or freakin' out for what felt like AGES.

Stan began to feel a tight feeling in his chest, his throat starting to close as it started to become harder to breathe.

The very same man who had carried so much pride in himself and his work, that he was willing to leave Stan out to dry when Stan had screwed up his chances at getting into his dream school, was now a shell of his former self.

(You threw everything away for... for... some dumb triangle with an eye! Your self respect, your family, you gave it all up for what??)

Tears began to flow down Stanley's cheeks.

(Damnit, I shouldn't be crying. A man ain't supposed to cry over something as small as this!)

As Stan tried his best to try and rebottle his emotions again, something caught his eye as he looked out in front of him.

It was Ford. His spitting image stared back at him, looking just as upset as he was while wearing the same things as he did.

His previous sadness soon began to blossom into rage as Stan found himself grabbing the baseball bat he kept in the bathroom for emergencies.

"Y-YOU JUST HAD TO HAVE EVERYTHING DIDN'T YOU!"

*Crack*

"AND STILL YA GAVE UP EVERYTHING TA BE WITH SOMETHIN' THAT DOESN'T TREAT YA BETTER THAN A STRAY DOG!!"

*Shatter*

"I-I"

The words "Hate you" hung on the edge of this tongue. He wanted to say those words so BADLY. Wanted to believe em' too. And yet he couldn't.

The mirror in front of him was shattered beyond repair, pieces of it still hanging onto it's frame as the rest collected into the sink below it.

From those pieces, Stan was able to see the ball of anger that stood in front of him. Ford's reflection wasn't there anymore, it was him again, yet with the way he looked in the mirror, he also saw his Father's stern look staring back at him, his rage filled eyes reflecting back at him in the triangular piece of mirror that stubbornly held on to the mirror's frame despite what a majority of the other pieces did by just breaking off from it.

("All you ever do is lie and cheat, and ride on your brother's coattails.")

*Clunk*

The bat fell to the ground as Stan felt himself fall to his knees, tears flowing even stronger as he found his body doing the opposite of what his mind told it to do.

A bloodcurdling roar filled the night, similar to a hurt angry bear, the sound afterwards followed by sobs.

Stan would eventually get to collecting himself enough to clean up the mess in the bathroom, afterwards falling asleep at his armchair with the tv on as whitenoise. The framed pictures of his family watching over him as his only companions that night.

It was going to be "fun" to think up a lie to tell the neighbors the next day about the noise coming from his condo, but he was too exhausted to worry about that right now. Right now, he just wanted to sleep, hoping the cravings for certain substances would leave in the morning, he made so much progress for the twins already, he didn't want to lose all of it due to some "hysterical episode" of his.

Of course, when Mabel and Dipper called the next morning they'd be none the wiser of what ailed their Great Uncle, he'd be matching their excited energy as they told them what mischief they've gotten into lately.

Ford would still be none the wiser as he embraced his brother when they metup that afternoon, although he would find it strange Stanley had trouble looking him in the eye that day, although he'd be quickly brushed off when he'd ask Stan if anything was wrong and if he and his Muse could help with anything.

Stanley was going to make sure that nobody was going to see or know the fragile side to him.

Nobody was going to know that "Stanley Screwup Pines" was struggling with personal issue.

If luck wasn't on your side you kept trying until it was, even if you had to cheat your way to winning.

You didn't just accept defeat when you're knocked down.

If there was something wrong with a performance you just continued onwards, winging it and acting like nothing was wrong because the show must go on.

He wasn't ever going to cry in front of anyone.

Cause especially if he cried,

SHE would cry along with him.

And he wasn't ever going to let that happen as long as his lived.

In a way you could say this was the greatest con Stanley Pines ever did.

Convincing everyone, even himself, that he was infact, fine.

(HEY BESTIES! I totally lost some sleep writing this but after seeing the latest post my Jellyskink about Stan I knew I had to try writing some fanfiction for Stan!

The 14 year old girl that possessed me is happy to say it was fun to try writing more angsty fanfiction, especially since that's a specialty for the Gravity Falls Fandom when it isn't being silly or comforting lol.

I hope this turned out decently! As I writing this I was thinking of two Marina songs to recommend but I couldn't decide on one so I thought I'd share both of them.

"The Family Jewels"

"Teen Idle"

Both by Marina.

I hope I kinda captured Stan's essence! I always kinda thought he gave off the "Bruiser with a soft side" trope and stuff!

He's so bbg, I hope everyone enjoys the very girlypop and slaytastic fanfic I wrote for him! Geez I'm having too much fun talking like this lmao!)

THIS IS SO SADDD I LOVE IT 💔💔💔 POOR STAN!!!

(Pictured above: Ford's obliviousness has only gotten worse in his isolation from other humans)

(Also pictured above: the young twins are currently holding the family brain cells)

[maeattemptsateverything]

Arrest

Émile was running, leaving others teachers in awe and a mess of still ungraded essays in his wake. The headmistress would yell at him later but it didn't matter; he would never have left his job if whatever was happening wasn't important. He ran as fast as he could when he saw the troop’s movement.

The only thing in his mind was the Angel.

He still was too slow, when he saw that the heavy forces had already broken down his front door. The neighbors were already peeping through their windows; surely one of them called. His front yard was a mess, nobody minded to have kicked mud and pebbles into his living room.

The bathroom had the cabinets wide open, his medication on the floor while both the kitchen and his bedroom were being ransacked by armed soldiers. Émile was trying and failing to rescue his mother's delicate china and the clothes his sister chose for him.

The soldiers didn't seem to be getting anywhere near the bookshelf; a hidden entrance his father built long ago. A great relief but a useless one. His breathing was almost erratic and that was not helping his case.

"Could you be the owner of this house?" Asked a blond man standing in the middle of the living room, the Captain, with a smirk on his face but a bored look in his eyes.

“What is this? Are you a policeman?” Asked Émile, the same tone when some student causes mayhem on the back seats.

“I do the questions here, mister” The Captain keept a nonchalant attitude but was clearly tired, not wanting to spend more than necessary with yet another civilian.

“You need a permit to enter a person's house; otherwise it is a crime of trespass” the man let out a surprised chuckle, but quickly fell back to composure.

“Aren't you a funny one? But I suggest you mind your tone”

A small noise came from the basement; the boxes falling. His angel friend tends to knock off things with their antlers, especially if they can't calculate the space when they move. If someone checks the bookshelf…

"What do you want?" Émile feigned annoyance, shielding his rising anxiety with anger.

"Nothing much, just want to check around"

"Well you already did! And destroyed my stuff in the process. So. Get. Out!”

“Sorry mister, but I'm the authority here. Most neighbors had reported suspicious activities coming from your domicile” The living room started to fill with soldiers, at least twenty. Émile tried his best to hide his dread "So if you can be so kind to tell us if you are a thief or a drug manufacturer...”

“That’s bullshit you are talking about! I'm literally a middle school teacher, I couldn't be dangerous if I wanted to!”

“Do you also use that language in front of your students?” Laughed one of the soldiers, the rest followed like hyenas.

“I´m sorry, you seem like such a weak opponent that it's usually one of those two options.” he was not going to lose his temper to people that were a head taller than him.

Émile bit his lower lip, trying to not get paralyzed “You already checked and found nothing”

“Why does your bookshelf have hinges?” he froze in his place, watching how the soldiers inspected the hidden entrance.

And finally went down the basement.

“Wait! You can't go down there!” He tried to reason with the captain, grabbing his armor to slow down his pace.

Only for the captain to slam his head against the ceramic floor. Émile was so astounded by the sharp pain in his temple he almost didn't register the taste of his own blood in his mouth.

“‐nestly”

“W- at?” The captain's voice was deafening, but almost drowned by the high pitch whistle at the same time. He was breathless.

“Answer honestly now” the Captain looked bigger, even if he could only see him over his shoulder by the tail of his eye. The other thing he saw was his left elbow held over the captain's knee. One wrong move and it was going to be bent backwards.

“that may save you from future problems”

“"I ca- I can't” I can't breath

“You are talking, you are fine”

The whole weight of the captain was over him, feeling his own ribs threatening to break and puncture his lungs. He was not fine, he was feeling lightheaded and needed to run away. The noise coming from the basement was growing louder in his ears, screams; his eyes burned and itched, and could not make out the blurred figures that hurried back.

Émile's eyes were frozen on the single soldier that cried while climbing up the stairs. She was all confident when her troop invaded his home, not expecting to find a treath. But she collapsed right in front of him. Her helmet was torn to shreds, the sight of her milky white skull against the bloodied tissue of her eye. Multiple slashes and holes ran through her face; wounds that were fast, angry, desperate.

Scared.

“What. are. you. hiding?”

The commanding yet terrified tone of the Captain above him was a stark contrast.

The house was suddenly silent, the soldiers no longer approaching the basement. Instead they formed a defense around their captain, weapons pointed steadily and fully charged. Émile could only see its boots. Émile already knew what was coming when the creature emerged from the dark. The captain stood at the sight of the antlers and drew out a rifle, pointing at the open mouth.

These creatures are naturally meek, Émile knew this. So the sight was enough to make him crawl away to a corner and hide, instead he was frozen in place when faced with the Angel. Its pose was akin to a claim of surrender; hiding its wings making itself seem smaller, eyes wide open. It was scared, repent; He knew it was not going to attack again.

Maybe the only reason the soldiers were able to empty their cartridges.

An ear-shattering yell reverberated through the room. The Angel was taken down, crawling towards him with a body pierced entirely. It cried in pain still, sounding primal and anguished. Émile was always successful in calming it down, soft touches in its hair while humming calm reassurances.

Now Émile could only watch his friend suffer while himself was paralyzed; not even able to move his face.

“Don't let that thing move an inch! Cut the feathers, tie its hands, I don't care! Just wait for reinforcement and call the director! Don´t kill it yet!” the Captain was shouting, the only sound anchoring him to reality.

“And this one-” he was at the verge of panic; the Captain last order only tipped his balance.

“Throw this bastard in the truck”

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

Can you hide a feral creature that is at war with humanity in your basement and expect no consequences?

[andvys]

hi andy!! i caught up with chapter 20 and had a blast reading it! 🫶

You have trouble understanding why it all feels so wrong when it’s all you have dreamed of for so long. Steve kissed you in a way he had never kissed you before, not even when you had just started dating did he kiss you with so much passion and love the way he did last night. 

took him some time 😭

Now, you are laying in your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You’re glad that you haven’t had much alcohol last night. The sharp pain in your lower stomach is already bad enough, you wouldn’t want to deal with both a headache and the awful cramps. 

me rn cause im on my period

“Who do you hang out with?” 

“No one,” he says without a single moment of hesitation. 

he's kinda real for that idk 😭

“Thanks for the call, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically, furrowing his brows with a fake smile on his lips, “I mean for thanks for letting me know that you got home safe. Oh and super nice of you to keep ignoring my calls all day too.” 

awkward.....

“Hey there, co-worker,” Steve says, unable to hold back his chuckle. 

YAAAAAS SCOOPS BESTIES ARE BACK

Walking into the movie theater has always been a nostalgic feeling to you, it always takes you back to your childhood. It’s oddly comforting. The smell of popcorn and butter makes your mouth water and you can’t wait to dig into the sweet treat. 

this!! it's exactly like that!! and i don't know why, i've been to the movie theater so many times, not only in my childhood, but it's always so nostalgic

“Right, they all change when they get dumped.”

yeah chrissy's right...

“They’re men, what do you expect?”

right 😭

“I would’ve told you if you picked up the fucking phone last night.”

not the f-bomb boy

“Oh! Fries too, please, Stevie!” 

YESS FRIES

You don’t hear Eddie’s scoff over Steve’s chuckle, “I know, dolly.”

😭😭

“Get your fucking jealousy in check before you keep hurting her!” Steve yells over the harsh rain that is falling. 

the way i would kick both of them out

“Sweetheart,” he speaks with a much gentler voice than before, “can we talk?”

shove that sweetheart up your ass bro after being bitchy all day 😭

how have you been btw? ❤️ - honey anon

HI BESTIE!! I'm so happy you liked the new chapter!💕

Periods are literally the worst, I hope you're having some nice snacks and a heating pack!! 🥰

Walking into movie theaters is literally such a nice feeling 😭 it's so comforting!!

YES SCOOPS BESTIES ARE BACK! You're getting them in the next chapter 👀

"shove that sweetheart up your ass bro after being bitchy all day 😭" LMAOOOO POOR EDDIE HE WAS JUST JELLY

I'm okay! I'm just writing a lot lately and I rewatched all the seasons of gossip girl! How are you bestie?💕

[stepfordgoth]

In this thread: bitching and whining. Poor me!!!

I am actually so angry about my fucking knee hurting. What do you mean I have a fucking MCL injury. What do you mean the most common cause of this injury is a forceful blow to the lateral (outer) side of the knee???? That didn't even happen to me. I was carrying my laptop up a flight of steps yesterday and my knee just started fucking hurting, sudden sharp pain in the medial collateral ligament (inner side of knee cap) and it hasn't stopped hurting for almost 24 hours now. You're telling me that just HAPPENS? WITH NO PROVOCATION????? And it can take MONTHS to heal up????????

I think I'm especially mad because I was JUST getting my gym confidence back after having my fucked up hip tendon from October to January. I was JUST starting to feel like Im making progress at gym again, and not just there to remediate my hip. And for the first two weeks in February, I was sick as a dog and I didn't get back into the gym until this past week. And now I've got this fucked up knee ligament and I have to start all the fuck over finding what works for me at the gym, AGAIN, because of my stupid shitty lower body joint parts. I'm almost positive I didn't hurt my knee at the gym yesterday either, other than some time on the elliptical (WHICH IS SUPPOSED TO BE GENTLE ON YOUR JOINTS, THATS THE WHOLE REASON I USE IT FOR CARDIO INSTEAD OF THE TREADMILL THAT I LOVE) I didn't do any lower body work. And my knee didn't start hurting until several hours after the gym too.

This is probably the emotions talking but I'm kinda starting to wonder if the gym is actually helping me at all because it seems like I have spent more time sick and/or injured since starting the gym in August than I ever was before I started. I think I posted about this last night but I turned 30 in November and I think I have maybe had a total of 3-4 (nonconsecutive) weeks since then where I haven't been suffering through an injury or a cold or a fucking flare up of my chronic issues*. And goddammit! I gained a pound in the last month! It's not fucking fair!!!!!! (To be fair, I am still down two pounds from my Heaviest Ever Weight that I saw back in September. But its such slow progress and it's extremely frustrating. In late October I was down almost 10 pounds from that Heaviest Ever and I know winter weight is a Real Thing but come the fuck on!!!!! I'm doing my best! I'm doing all the stuff I should be doing!!!!!) Also I'm aware that since starting birth control my tits have literally, honest to God, gotten a little bit bigger but I strongly hesitate to believe that I gained EIGHT FUCKING POUNDS OF TITTY. That can't be true. They definitely haven't grown that much.

*on this note, I have now been on birth control for over a month in attempt to control my chronic issues and I am very excited to report that it's been AWESOME. knocking on wood, I have had zero problems with my chronic issues since starting birth control. And obviously I just said I've gained a little bit of weight but actually I feel like I'm the skinniest I've looked since probably 2021! I can't believe how much bloat my body was holding all the time for so long. My tummy is flat again (albeit with stretch marks now, from being so bloated all the time for so long 😮‍💨) and my face and arms even look slimmer I think. Thank god for that at least. This is why I'm so hopeful that my recent weight gain is just winter weight and it will melt off easily once spring hits and I'm outside a lot again. That usually what happens for me, or it did when I was in my mid-20s (pre chronic illness) anyway.

Keeping my fingers crossed that once again spring will heal me.

[twistedthings]

Tonight had been a win in the ring but somehow Brody felt like he had lost and he almost dropped his head in defeat before Brooke took hold of his hand to gently interlace their fingers, not giving him the chance to close in on himself. His blue eyes were sharp, one surrounded by a nice bruise and a cut above it on his eyebrow but the pain was nothing, he was nearly numb to it, the adrenaline from the fight and then the argument with Brooke still making his body run hot and null to the pain. But not the pain from knowing that what Brooke had said was true and he was so fucking pathetic for letting himself get hurt just for the sake of hurting. Where else was he supposed to put his rage? That self-hatred which was fueled by years of verbal abuse from his father. He didn't say anything else as she swore she didn't want to hear him admit what he had and now that the full weight of what he'd said registered in his jostled, battered brain Brody didn't want to open his mouth again to let more unfiltered truths out.

So he just complied, like a scolded dog following its owner home after escaping the backyard. His eyes didn't dare to drift away from Brooke as she led him back to the locker room where they met little resistance to their entry, thankfully, Brody wasn't sure he could face or speak to anyone else just yet. Still astonished that he'd said what he had, the walk back to the lockers was just a transition and before he knew it Brody was obediently lowering himself to the cool metal bench in between the lockers nearest the door. His eyes still followed Brooke as she went over to fetch the first aid kit and only then did his brain catch up to the moment. That numbness taking over most of his body and mind.

His eyes tracked Brooke like before but less as a fighter and more observant, thoughtful, pondering on the feelings that were clawing at his chest, begging to be let out. He'd been holding onto his feelings for her, keeping them back because when it came right down to it, Brody knew he didn't deserve Brooke. Not as a friend and certainly nothing more than that. But she'd made her way under his skin and into his life and not without efforts to dissuade on his part. He'd met her with resistance and tried to show her just how terrible of a person he could be but it didn't seem to matter, she was still there for him. Even after all their arguments and the moments when he gave her so much grief, Brooke was still fucking there for him. Brody didn't really flinch or wince as she started to dab gently at the cut above his eye as he let them search her face thoughtfully. The sudden urge to let his hands run up her legs to take hold of her hips and draw her closer was sudden and made him ache in a way he didn't expect. Perhaps it was the intrusive thought that he could lose her, that she might walk away, he knew she should, every relationship he'd ever had ended in pain for everyone involved and he refused to let Brooke become one of those casualties.

"You're too good to me, Brooke," he spoke finally, his voice low with an emotion he didn't expect, Brody's throat bobbed as he swallowed and he dropped his eyes from hers to glance to the side. "I'm literally the shittiest, most stupid person sometimes and you're still here, taking care of my dumbass." He frowned and glanced back up to meet her gaze, one brow arching. Her admission to him being such a great fighter made his heart flutter with a sense of pride but it only lasted a moment, self-doubt too thick in his veins to allow any happiness to form from her words. Brody sighed and let his face relax into Brooke's hold, his tongue rolling out to wet his lips before he dragged the bottom one between his teeth for a couple seconds. He wanted to say that he didn't know why he did what he did either but the truth was just too pathetic in his eyes to admit. "I know you weren't trying to insult me... I just, chose to take it the wrong way, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for tonight and every night I made you watch me pull the same shit..." Regret was threatening to take him to places he didn't want to be so Brody took another breath and exhaled it through his nose, closing his eyes and just sitting there for a few minutes with his mouth shut so he could filter through what he was feeling.

The fear, frustration and adrenaline were a volatile combination swirling around in Brooke's body after watching Brody's fight, leading the blonde to lash out with her words without even taking a minute to realize how her comments were coming across. Brooke could tell by the look that hung heavy on Brody's features and the slight tremor in his voice that she had hurt him, even without meaning to. That thought alone felt like another punch to the gut, one that was akin to the actual blows Brody had just endured in the ring only several minutes earlier. She never wanted him to see her as the enemy, not when she cared about him even far more than he probably realized.

The truth Brody admitted had Brooke's throat tightening. She knew that was the case, but hearing it from his mouth and the pain in his tone made it so much worse. " Of course that's not what I want to hear. " Brooke's expression softened, eyes nearly pleading with him to stop down this path of self-destruction. She didn't know how to make him see that it led nowhere good. Tears threatened her vision again, along quick with the realization that this was not the time nor the place to show any sort of vulnerability. Not for her and certainly not for Brody either, especially with so many potential opponents and betters around, all with very watchful eyes. " Come with me. " Brooke urged, reaching for his hand and gently curling her fingers in-between his, careful to avoid the knuckles that looked bruised or swollen. Moving at a pace slower than what she would walk on any normal day, obviously for his sake, Brooke guided Brody towards the back locker room, hoping they would make it there without consequence and even more so, that they would have some privacy when they got there. Thankfully, it was deserted. With all the commotion going on inside the actual gym, it was no wonder why.

" Sit. " Brooke gestured with her chin towards one of the benches not littered with dirty clothes or fighting gear as she headed towards a first aid kit hanging on the far wall. Carrying it back to where Brody had seated himself, she busied herself for a moment by familiarizing herself with the contents. Tearing open an alcohol swab, Brooke eased herself between Brody's partly spread legs. Gingerly taking his chin between her fingers, Brooke tilted his face up towards her, a sad sort of smile ghosting her lips, eyes lit with its usual fond tenderness when looking at him. "You know I wasn't trying to insult you out there, right ? " With feather-light movements, she began to dab at the split skin above his eyebrow oozing with fresh blood. Brooke didn't need to warn him it would sting. It wasn't like he didn't already know that. And given what he just faced in the ring and subsequently admitted to her about wanting the pain, Brooke didn't think the slight burn would even phase him. " You're one of the best fighters I've ever seen, Brody. Truly. " She added quietly, intentionally avoiding the male's gaze as she focused on cleaning the most prominent wound on his face. " I just hate watching you hurt yourself for nothing... I don't understand it. "

[natashaslittlegirl]

Power play - SW

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.

Summary: Being the girlfriend of the Scarlet Witch has its advantages, sometimes.

Dark!Wanda Maximoff!Scarlet Witch x Reader

Smut, jealousy, dirty talk, masturbation (mention), dub-con(kinda?), praise and degrading kink, mommy kink, choking (w to r), sexual tension, restrains used(magic), magic used, scissoring, vaginal fingering (r receiving), spanking (r receiving), pain kink, finger sucking, slut shaming.

Words count: 2100+

Wattpad Masterlist Wanda Maximoff's Masterlist

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As I said, being the girlfriend of the Scarlet Witch has its adventages, but be careful when she gets mad.

Now you were with your hands tied up with red strings to the headboard of the bed, legs wide open and your core dripping onto the sheets, while Wanda was walking in circles around the bed, using her magic on you.

But let's rewind how did you ended up in this position.

You were trying to get Wanda's attention all week, but she was so focused on learn about the darkhold that she was so immersed on the book. You tried almost everything, showering with the door open, knowing that when you do that is for her to join, nothing. Walking in your tiniest clothes, nothing. Walking only in lingerie, nothing. Walking naked, nothing.

You even touched yourself because of how frustrated you were, but she just let it passed. And your thoughts were too loud for her to ignore them, but still did it. You went out with Natasha too, knowing she would get jealous and when you'll get home she would just fuck you rough, it didn't work either.

Wanda was to focused on that, that a fucking book made you jealous and that's the last thing you wanted it.

You missed her, her touch, her warm, even her sweet words. You missed your Wanda, you were so happy when she discovered that she was THE Scarlet Witch, that you helped through the whole process of acceptance of who she is.

Another day started, you woke up and saw her side of the bed empty, sighing in annoyance, you got up and went to the bathroom, washed your face to fully wake up and go straight to the kitchen, she wasn't there, you know that she would be in her little room. Warm coffee on hands and puffy blanket on your shoulders, you went out to sit on the porch, the cold air calming you and cleaning your mind.

Wanda wanted to live away from everyone and everything, buying a house for you two in the middle of the woods, you agreed in that time but now you just feel lonely. Once you finished your coffee, you went back inside, noticing Wanda in the kitchen, finally out of that fucking room, you hugged her from behind, but she just left out a sigh. No 'good morning, honey' or even a little kiss.

"Wanda, can we talk?" you said in a cold tone, noticing how her body tense.

"Later." she tried to scape but you grabbed her wrist.

"No, enough of that book, we talk now or I'm gonna go." she tilted her head, oh, first warning.

"y/n this is important." her voice sharp as a knife.

"I'm important too." you didn't left behind, your tone was angry, you crossed your arms and bite the inside of your cheek. Wanda just rolled her eyes back and walked to the table, sitting on her chair, you slowly followed her, sitting to her right side. "What happened to you?" you voice lowered a tone, asking softly, she knew she can talk to you about everything.

"I'm just discovering so much things about this, new me." she didn't look at you.

"Why were you avoiding me all week?"

"I wasn't" this time you rolled your eyes.

"Oh, you wasn't? mhm, Wanda I literally walked naked past you and you didn't even take a glance of me." She just remain silent, not knowing what to say. "Oh and I touched myself too," you knew she doesn't let you do that, not if she doesn't ask you to, you were okay with that because she always took care about your needs.

"You what." her jaw tightened.

"And I went out with Nat, oh you can even imagine all the things we did and she showed me." you tilted your head with a grin on your face, your teasing tone was driving her insane.

"When did you do that?" she was breathing loudly, getting jealous at each word that come out of your mouth.

"She took me to the cinema, to eat, and then she bought me lingerie." that was all it took to her eyes go red.

She grabbed you by your wrist, practically taking you by force to your bedroom, slamming the door shut with her powers and leaving you stood up to the side of the bed.

"Naked, now."  her authority made you tremble, her rough and raspy voice sending a wave of wetness to your core.

"What if I don't want to?" you crossed your arms with a cocky grin on your face.

Just a move with her fingers, little red sparks and you were fully naked in front of her, gasping at the cold air without your warm clothes.

"Bed, now." you shaked your head, Wanda felt you doubting, but she knew how much turned you one when she used her magic on you.

Again, just a move and a few red sparks and you were laying in bed with your hands tied up above your head, even if you tried to scape it was impossible.

"Spread your legs" you hesitated for a moment but when she magically put on her suit you opened them wide, "good girl."

You were worked up all week, seven days frustrated without getting not even a little touch had you insane. She knew that, she could feel your arousal from kilometers, but luckily she was just a few steps away from you.

"You were a very bad girl, such a little slut all week," Wanda began to walk slowly, rounding the bed, just the sight of her hands moving with the red strings had you wetting.

"You were the one that had me like that." you talked her back and suddenly your body was pressed flat to the mattress, your ass lifted up and your hands crossed because of being tied, "fuck" you gasped when your legs spread themselves.

"You really want to talk back to me, detka?" even she was walking in the room, her voice came like a whisper to your ears.

"Why you didn't touch me then?" goosebumps appeared on your skin as a spank resound on the room.

"It is rude to answer a question with another question." you couldn't see her from your currently position, but you knew she had a smirk on her face.

"We're not at school to grammar lessons." Wanda loved when you challenged her, for some reason it gave her more authority over you.

"No, we're not, but I'm gonna give you a lesson anyway." another spank hit you, making you squirm on the bed. "that's for touching yourself."

"I took care of something you didn't." now red sparks were on your neck, pressing your sides to cut your breathing.

"I don't care, you shouldn't."

"Then take care yourself." she groaned at your words, pressing harder your neck.

"Oh, I will." she let her grip go, your head falling to the pillows. Wanda spanked you with her hand now, leaving her print on your cheek, moaning at the hard slap. "Such a slut." another one, "That's for Nat's purchased." another, and another and another.

Tears of pleasure were rolling down your face, you loved when she was rough, for that bad it sounds you loved the pain. Wanda was behind you, looking directly at your center.

"So pathetic, already dripping because of the spanking, you liked this too much, don't you, detka." Her index finger run the length of your core, gathering your slit to take it to her mouth, humming at your taste. "You like the pain so much, huh?"

You clenched around nothing at the feeling of her touch, needing her.

"Oh, so needy for Mommy's touch, baby?" she teasingly say, knowing damn well you needed her.

"Please." you breath out, not feeling to fight back, just wanting her touch.

"What do you want?" she lean over you, purring her words on you ear.

"You, only you." you looked at her with pleading eyes, she proudly smirk while nodding.

She moved her fingers down your spine, her touching was burning you. She reached your core again, pushing one finger into you.

"Oh, fuck." you gasped but she quickly take it out, "Wan-" she cut you off by putting the soaked finger on your mouth.

"Suck." you did as she told, sucking her finger covered in your arousal, "such a good girl." Wanda took it out, moving her fingers to left you in the first position.

She kneeled next to you, her tight suit revealing her perfect body, toned thighs and biceps, she took off her gloves, caressing your body with her magic, not directly touching you yet. Your breath was hard and the sight of your girlfriend with her crown made you wetter.

"So perfect," she whispered as she reached your inner thighs, instinctively you move to closed them but red strings appeared on your ankles, leaving your legs open for her, "uh uh, you're not gonna close them."

Her finger traced invisibles forms on your thighs, goosebumps on your skin at each slightly touch, after a few minutes of teasing, hearing your whines and hums, she finally touched you when you needed her the most.

Running her fingers through your wet folds, making you shiver, ending up on your clit, rubbing it slowly.

"Please,"

"I'm teaching you a lesson, detka." she softly said making you rolled your eyes.

"What now!" you practically cried out.

"To be patient."

"Oh fuck that, Wanda, I've been patient all week!" you couldn't resist anymore, trying to move your hips but quickly putting you back in place with her magic.

"None of that," she smirked at your furrowed eyebrows "If you could wait an entire week you can wait a little more, don't be such a desperate slut."

Wanda took her hands off of you, but you could still feel her touch, seeing her fingers move in the air with the red sparks rounding them. Then she made the same movements as she was touching you, and thanks to her magic, you were feeling them inside you. Curling them in the air as you arched your back at the sensation.

"Fuck, Wanda." you moaned her name, the feeling of her touch was more intense now, growing the pressure in your abdomen, the knot on your stomach tingling at each curl of her fingers.

"You like that, detka?" you nodded eagerly, "such a good little slut, letting me using my magic on you, mhm, you feel so so good," she closed her eyes, bitting her lips, she was feeling you too.

The movements stopped for a second, just to Wanda clip her fingers, leaving her naked, just the crown on her head.

"You're so beautiful, baby," you whispered to her as she moved to sit in front of you, one leg crossing up your thigh, lifting the other one to line her center to yours.

"You are too, detka, my beautiful sweet girl." she pressed her cunt, slowly began to rock her hips to yours.

Your head fell back at the feeling of her wetness mixing yours, moving your hips back to her.

"This feels so good, god." you lift your head, meeting her lust-filled dark eyes, smirk on her lips, looking at you.

"Sorry for making you wait, darling." sultry voice, as she was grinding harder on you. The knot on your stomach began to become unbearable, the sound of your wetness crashing at each thrust of her hips.

"I'm so close, Mommy." Wanda groaned at the name.

"Fuck, detka, hold it," she moved her fingers again, a vibration appeared between both of your cunts.

"Oh my god." you cried out.

"That's it baby, cum with, Mommy."

Wanda and you exploded in a shared orgasm, making a mess onto the sheets, moaning each other's names. Panting for air, she moved her fingers to release your wrists, finally sitting on the bed to instantly grab her by the back of her neck to kiss her.

"I love you so much, Wanda."

"I love you too, detka," she smiled at you warmly, pulling you closer to her "no more wait for you."

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

*

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

[forgotten-contract]

Voidtouched-blue--[prior]

One moment, sorry." She turned and began rolling up her sleeves to put the campsite back into the natural order they had found it in. Only, everything had already been done. She blinked, confused at first as to when that happened. At least while she had been awake, she didn't recall returning everything to its place. I didn't think he'd pay attention to that. Full of surprises, aren't we? The thought brought a small smile to curl at her lips. "Well my job's already been done for me it seems." She chuckled. "I'm not particularly hungry, unless you'd like something? All that's left is to pack myself into the carriage and we can be on our way." Cyra scratched the back of her ear, warranting a few slaps to the back of her hand as the ear flicked at her tickling fingers.

As he’d come to expect, the waking process of the young feline was filled with ample shakes of stretched muscles as sharp claws and paws wiggled free of the clouds of sleep; her soon-to-be-guest straightening from his lean to give her a bit of room as she began to collect her items - a paired frown on their lips as nails tapped against those fresh horns.

But considering she didn’t shudder with a deep convulsion of agony, he took that as a sign that they’d begun to heal to a manageable pain, at least he hoped.

With nothing to do Silvaire just watched in polite silence as he ever did as she wandered to get herself ready for the day, his brows furrowing for a second as she rolled up her sleeves to do something- before his face softened as that scar of hers lowered with the same expression instead at the sight of his work cleaning.

Her joking remark paired with that genuine smile brought a tempered heat to his skin as that ever present pride relished in the moment of idle praise of a job well done, though he found himself stalling for half a second at the question of food - knowing he’d not ‘eaten’ around her thus far… but she seemed more than eager to get on the road.

Secrets to unravel after all.

“I’m alright, I had, something. Earlier I mean.” Why was it suddenly more difficult to lie around her?

That is what honesty does.

A single taste and it ruins the pallet.

“To the road then, it shouldn’t be too much longer from the maps you’ve given.” It was with a gentle wave of a gloved hand the lord offered her once more to choose her seat, and once again found her in that spot of familiar comfort, the cushions no longer full of novels as they had been - put away for ease of unpacking and sorting later - so it was just the two of them within the cabin for the next few handfuls of hours.

This time, Silvaire didn’t feel that apprehension to the idea.

But the crawling feeling to the back of his neck had yet to leave, so his focus was all the same - tainted in that unknowing sensation. Perhaps it was just the Elementals themselves disagreeing with his presence, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d found the voidsent as some type of burden to their woods.

Golden eyes drifted to his companion as the light of the forest speckled across that tender blue in dappled shadows, his chin resting in his palm as he sat with crossed legs facing that latticed window, listening to the way she continued the idle work she was so prone to doing. Was there a time he’d seen her sit and rest? No, beyond being quite literally unable to move was the only time she’d not attempted to push herself to this obsession.

As ever, their time was quiet with only the idle sounds of pages turned, or the word of the wood ghosting across the path their carriage took, on occasion the kwehing chirps of happy chocobos flitted through the air in time with the birdsong that surrounded them. It was relatively peaceful, far different than the sounds of sand and wind that took over most of Thanalan. Almost a bit too noisy in his opinion - but he’d also been fond of the silence.

Small conversation was made as the hours passed, nothing drastic to answer either traveler’s innermost questions, but simple remarks of the scales of trees or the comments of differing experiences. She spoke of the forest as a home, and he wished to learn how to respect it… If he was to be her guest after all.

To learn the habits of all the paths he’d seen on her map, of all the places she knew in the more less traveled areas of the Twelveswood, of what discoveries she’d made during them - those stars always seemed to brighten when his queries of interest let her speak without fear of judgment due to her more untraditional topic-

In a single second, a flurry of events took place;

A punctuated BANG cut off any structure of thought that the man held - a sharp and unnatural pain shredding through his aetherial center as the Contract of his Driver was pulled taught as a wire and SNAPPED in that same instant; the body of that husk falling off the seat to drop past them, the gore of his head blown through by a distant long rifle-

The birds came next in panic, squawking panic and feathers as the unreined speed jostled the two inside, unchecked, uncontrolled, blinded animals running from the scent of bloodshed - two more violent shots were heard and the sounds stopped, but the velocity had been set; and it was only due to the height and reach that Silvaire had to brace himself that buried instincts kicked in to pull the near floating feline to him as the whole of the vehcile tipped and rolled head over lead, crashing into the unrelenting trunks of those vibrant trees.

Even if he wasn’t human; Silvaire could still feel the solid contact the walls made as he held her close, it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t all of her, but it was more controlled than the space would have treated her otherwise in the crash.

Soon, the moment of unchecked confusion passed, and a new one began.

He could feel her warmth on his chest as he lay against the wall that had now become the floor - the light from the window above stinging his skin as he lay, yet to move. With closed eyes his understanding of the world was far more than the reliance on such weak sight. It was here - even as he felt her move from his touch - that he listened to the world outside. Forgetting of the cabin, neglecting himself in that moment;

The aether of new blood was easy to detect.

It was the amount, and the type of weak magical sensation, that caught his breath.

Just from the few moments of deduction, it was the familiar formation and feeling of those Garlean soldiers that approached. Weapons trained, as if a threat loomed, though he could not see them, he could feel the weight that they brought in shrouds of metal. The feeling of the Elementals just as clear to him in that moment as one of the garrison of a dozen or more stepped forward to speak;

“Ul’dahn, you can either run, or die, for the Miqo’te in the carriage. You have five seconds to respond before we open fire.”

An unspoken wrath rose in his chest as his eyes slowly opened, staring at the light above - the clouds that drifted to shade the open clearing they’d fallen into stinging his eyes. His fingers shook for a moment as he rolled onto his side to feel the cool silk of his hair drift against his cheek. The unintentional snap of the death of a Contract hurt more than any of the physical bruises that he could feel starting to fade - by Altana above, being mortal was horrendous, making each moment his dark aether spun to fix the damage feel all the longer.

There was a pause as he looked to the terrified expression on her face as he lay on his side, wincing as his nerves forced the pain away to heal - without a doubt in his mind her terrors had begun anew, tormented by the world within.

…And through the silence that blanketed them he spoke with a half-functional mumble; not even aware he’d spoken.

“…It’ll be alright, I promise.”

[prelovednikaidou]

corrupt; draken, ken ryuguji [01]

Summary:

In which you met the man of your past, but he didn't come back to remind you of the bitter break-up. Draken had one thing in mind and it was to never let you leave his side ever again. Distance made the heart grow fonder but he'd rather let you spend the rest of your life hating him if it meant you'd never leave his sight.

"I don't wish you well when you ain't with me, I want you crying."

Warning:

mention of suicide, oral receiving (reader),

a/n: taglist are open up to 10 users! comment '☁️'

Word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

[01: jealousy]

Draken wanted to take you away.

The curves of your spine, flowing down to the slope of your well-rounded bottom flesh, he watched the symmetrical dimple right above your butt - mocking him that those precious intimate spots were no longer his possession to own.

It wasn't only him who shared the same thought; everyone in this crowded room had their eyes glued on you. As if you were holding those guests captive, you felt immense pressure on your feet and thighs, quivered before you wrapped your leg around the shining pole.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

Those blinding lights showered your sweating figure in all fairness, the sound of Abel's voice had long dimmed down, it meant that your show was done. It was silent in a minute,

lifting your face - your lips curled into a hunting smile and the room soared with cheers, crumpled money tossed across the stage, but your sense of content was suppressed by the overwhelming tension.

A pair of black pupils were starring at you - pinning you to where you stood. He was among the crowd, all in his glory without care but you. You felt something burst inside your chest, unable to tear your focus from him.

This longing for him is toxic.

Flashes of memories where those sober eyes bore into yours when he pumped his fat cock into your tight cunt until his thick cum over spilled, the same eyes that once shone with so much love but turned cold.

"Dollface!"

A shout from backstage startled you from your daze, another coworker came up and escorted you down, assisting you to take off the painful high heels.

"What's with you?" She threw a curious stare your way.

You still couldn't wrap your mind. He was there. Flesh and soul, presented in front of you. It was a brief eye contact but it was enough. Enough to tell you that he was coming back for you.

It had been years since the two of you chose to split up, making your paths without each other's companion.

"I, I've got to go. I forgot that I locked the windows, my cat's probably waiting for me. He's been out for 3 days so he's starving I think. Y'all can continue without me,"

You stood but your knees turned weak at the sudden arrival of him, standing by the door. A few steps taken back, you lost all rationality to stay calm because your heart thumped loudly.

Standing tall on his 6' ft, athletic and young Draken was nowhere to be seen but replaced - with a mature adult man that induced everything he carried into lust.

The robust body looked incredibly fit, lean, and you could see the strong outlines of his defined chest and abdominal muscles from the black shirt. If it was years ago, those leather jackets wouldn't suit him - he'd look like those up-start wannabe gangsters.

But it was different now. It clung to his broad shoulders perfectly, he wasn't as cheap as those local pranksters. The dark jeans also did little job in hiding his long legs. He was indeed a member of a gang; eerie and cruel - but he had never look this good that you want to fuck.

Draken's presence was enough to brush away every man in the room that you belonged to him. Your little admirers couldn't even look at him in the eyes, let alone make up a fight.

They left with a strong sense of defeat; no wonder you never once accept any confessions, turned out you have such a man waiting.

"Why is he here? This area is off-limits. Only staff is allowed. Naoki, guide him out." You forced yourself to mutter those words, uncaring to look at him with your back facing him.

Naoki sighed, this man literally slipped $750 under the table just to meet you. Those incompetent flies who claimed to love you didn't even spare this much effort. She only signaled him to step in before she whispered to you,

"Remember the guy I told you? The one that booked a whole session for your private room? He's that guy. It's just that he arrived a little early than the arranged meeting but it'll be great if you can build a connection with him."

You glared back, "Then send him back. We still have a week before that, right? I'm tired. I can't keep up with this," You pushed off her hand from your shoulder, began to take off your wig. His eyes were still the same; always undressing you naked.

Naoki could only grit her teeth, the money already landed in her pocket. What if he asked it back? She can't let such a great deal slip so she greeted him,

"She's a bit tired from the recent show. How about we push this to tomorrow? She's got free time on her hand to rest too." At least, this would do, right?

"If I have so much time on my hands, I wouldn't have come a week early. So you guess it yourself." His voice has changed too. It was an octave lower, you immediately rubbed your thighs together before you waved a hand.

"Haaa... leave us, Naoki. But I need you to go to my house. I wasn't joking about what I said earlier."

Naoki hurriedly nodded, clutching to her pocket before her eyes warily darted from Draken to you. Is this a couple feud? She noted in her head that she'd help this guy soon in the future - who doesn't want easy money?

"Okay, I will. Sir...? Err.. hope you have a pleasant chat with Dollface. I will excuse myself then ." The hindrance in Draken's eyes finally left the room, the door closed in a thump and the subtle tension thickened.

He didn't say anything, only leaned his body by the door as he watched you wiped off your makeup. This was his morning view back when you were still wet behind ears about pole dancing. You'd come back at the crack of drawn and he'd already been out to his workshop.

"Dollface."

Stubborn like a little cat, your doe eyes didn't look up from your make-up bag and he could see through your act to be so busy. He loved how feisty you've become after years. It eased his heart that you could chase off those little shit.

"It suits you, [Y/N]. Face so pretty like a doll. Make one's heart itch to keep around. But I wonder why the name sounds so familiar."

"State your business. I'm heading home straight after this so don't expect a lap dance or something."

"Then that's the plan. I'll drive you home, eh?"

That damn 'eh'. He picked up your habit too well that the time he spent with you shaped him into copying your habit. It sounded cute but your heart still couldn't forgive him. Let him suffer a little.

"Don't need to. My boyfriend is great at doing his job. So do me a favor and let me rest quickly, how about that?"

Now, you were looking at him through the mirror. It was just too hard for you to muster yourself to face him directly. Draken didn't seem shaken. He stood straightly, you clenched your thighs tighter.

"Have I ever been quick in everything when I'm with you, [Y/N]?" His towering figure gawked over your smaller frame - casting his shadow over you as his sharp facial features caught your attention.

"Can't remember. Maybe? Because I said it just now almost like a reflex." You replied, not backing down but instead, squaring up to him that your ample breasts brushed against his torso.

His cologne didn't smell like the tacky, cheap body spray he used to own. This one smelled so expensive, alienated your memory of his familiar scent.

"Now you're getting older, your memory is getting rusty, dollface. Should I put on a play and see if you can call anything in mind?" You felt your breath became heavier but he didn't let you lose your focus yet.

Your chin was tugged upwards, the shadow of his cap cast upon his face and you remembered now; it was his eyes. Because he wasn't vocal about his feelings, you could understand everything from his eyes.

"You've grown softer, Draken. I almost threw up listening to you talk like this. What, are you changing jobs now? Don't tell me you went from a gangster to a con artist."

No, you were lying to yourself. Draken didn't change but improved. Change can be something bad but he never did anything that would bring him down. He just got better.

And it was true when the velvety touch on your beating pulse suddenly moved to your lips before he squished your cheeks in his hand.

"Fucking hot as hell but so damn annoying." He laughed, the light from his eyes never return, only replaced by a wicked glint.

He wanted to take you to his place, fuck you in his bed until you couldn't walk properly so he'd have more reasons to keep you at his place. He wanted to swallow you whole and he barely even started but why was it so damn hard to have you?

"Don't dare to think of anything nasty. You might not care about commitment in a relationship, but I do. So take your hands off me, Draken."

"Kenie. It's Kenie for you."

Your lips were so plump and wet, his other arm wrapped around your waist - hoisting you up to his body before he leaned by the dresser.

You shrieked when his scalding hot palm touched your naked back and as he untied the strings of your bra, he smiled at your face as he said,

"Do you think I'm going to believe that, dollface? Do you really think I don't know that this pussy hasn't been fucked well for months? I have eyes across this ward. You don't get to fool me."

Heat rose to your face, your small hands pushed on his shoulders, "You're still up in my business? Sounds like someone can't fucking move on."

He nodded, ripping off your lacey bralette and his big hands began to palm your heavy breast - carelessly rubbing your nipple with his thumb. You fought the urge to moan, you hold onto his shoulder for dear strength.

"You're right. I can't move on." Your breath hitched, he nuzzled his face to the column of your neck, inhaling so deep, and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. He missed you so much. So much that if you ran away again, he'd just kill himself.

"I fucked my fist thinking of you. I got this hard just by thinking of you. I'm not ashamed of it."

"That's your problem, Draken. I'm not you. I'm living my best life right now, and sorry that I can still cum just with my fingers."

"That's my girl," He pushed you until your back met the concrete wall, your eyes widened when he took off his cap and put it on you before he dropped to his knees.

"I am aware of your appetite, [Y/N]. You won't be happy with such a small meal. You always keep coming back to have your tight pussy stuffed. Even when we were living together, you couldn't stop begging my dick every night."

"What the hell are you talking about-" You pushed his forehead away from your private part, one hand covering your pussy but he gripped the side of your hips - bringing you straight to his mouth.

"I don't care if you use me as your favorite Cherry Twins. But don't deny that I made you cummed the hardest when I was in your life, dollface."

Your eyes became misty, his words just flew through your head - empty when his mouth latched on your clothed crotch, lapping on the small fabric that the nudge of his tongue probed on your budding clit.

Cherry Twins were the name he gave to your vibrators. Since he was always out when you were at home, he'd make you use them to your greedy cunt - even made a video call so he could jerk off in the public restroom.

You were wild, but he taught you to live even wilder.

Next page: chapter [02] →

a/n : next chapter is full smut bcs thats the only thing my brain's capable of. Taglist are open up to 10 users! Comment '☁️’.

Taglist: @hanmascult @q-the-rockaholic @hikkarins

[legguk]

Hi!! So,

it's my ( literal ) first time writing fanfiction, so I'm pretty new at this stuff, but Lady Dimitrescu is all I was able to think about for weeks and I >needed< to do something about it.

( If you want some context, I wrote this thinking “what if Alcina survived?” - Alcina's pov )

———

The fall,

The end of everything you once loved

Ethan Winters.

You woke up... somehow, you woke up. The frigid air hitting your fresh wounds felt like a jolt send by reality, as if one says "you're still alive" -

- and oh how you were starting to hate that feeling.

Laying on the demolished floor of your castle, muscles twitching in pain, mouth open gasping for air... that's how you are, how you will remember yourself from now on. A defeated dragon, a crushed woman, a dead mother.

You should get up, you should let go of your carcass and crawl your way back into the warmth of your home, you should—

—you should be dead, actually. Resting on death's cold embrace along with your daughters.

Daughters.

God, your daughters.

The memories flood your mind with a painful, unbearable reminder; they're gone, dead, crystalized - gone. They're gone. Your lovely daughters, your pride and joy, the main reason you'd open up your eyes in the morning...

...Bela,

Cassandra,

Daniela....

Their names are long cold, not yet forgotten - no, never forgotten - but somewhere else, as they don't belong here anymore; not on your arms, tucking them to bed. Not on your hands, caressing their faces. Not on your lips, kissing their foreheads. Not on your tongue, as you say them.

A raspy scream leaves your throat, it sounds disturbing.

You sob, hot tears trailing down your cheeks and neck, small cries for help find their way into the wind, disappearing with less importance then when they materialized.

You cannot recall for how long you stayed at that very same position, perhaps some hours, perhaps a day, but you are certain that at some point you were overcame by tiredness and collapsed - probably the best to do for now.

xxx

And so, rises the moon and the stars watch upon your limp body, the night howling a merciful wind and singing a melodic song. Grunting, you push yourself up with your elbows, sitting up and facing the sky through the hole you've made on the roof... and the levels above...

A huge carcass sits besides you, it's wings bended on itself and it's big mouth open to whoever would like to have a peek; you probably changed back into your normal body while unconscious... Now that you can see it clearly, you notice the damage that man-thing did to you... by heavens, how were you still alive and...

Oh. The castle. You look forward, taking in the horizon - the stars look exclusively shiny tonight - you breath in, the dusty air causes you to chough a few times. Stretching your neck a bit to see your whole house, you tell yourself it looks.. fine, actually, ignoring the broken windows. The broken windows.

It's cold. You shiver harshly, panting as the air meets your bare back and rumbles through your lungs, making you hug yourself, - you're naked, you just realized - the winter in Romania is truly kind to no one.

Your legs tremble with just the thought of trying to stand on your feet. You don't rush to do it either, let the wintry breeze take in your wounds, make it sting, burn it, freeze it; freeze your body along.

“To die. To die is to live. To live without them, that's torture. To live without their presence, absent of their scents, to not hear them, nor see their faces again, that's worse than death; far, far worse. How could I ever walk into that damned house without the heavenly sounds of their laughs, the tapping of their feet as they walk free, the steadiness of their heartbeats, reminding me that my own still beats.

Beats for them. For them only.

And they're gone.

So who shall my heart beat for? Myself? No, that wouldn't do. I will rip it out from my chest if I must, sacrifice it to any god who may hear me, all so I could spend five more minutes with them. Then I'd die in peace and find them at my arms again at whatever comes after this poor life.

But I'm here.”

You still hold yourself as you stare at a castle's - broken - window, new warm tears hanging the same trail the old and now dry ones did, a silent cry.

Your intrusive thoughts were abruptly cut by a loud noise from the inside of the castle, making you jump up, gathering all your last strengths to stand and walk a few shaky steps closer to home. The more you walked, the louder the noises got; a little rustle became a bang, and your tiptoing became a sprint, you hold yourself as tight as you can, ignoring the bleeding, the cold air spiking your lungs, how insanely fast you heartbeat was. You need to get there, protect the last remnant of them you still have.

The gates felt heavy now, even for you, who would open them with one hand. Where is your strength now? The fearless dragon who'd do anything to protect her house? Perhaps she died on that fall, and now all there's left is a shadow of what you were one day.

With much pain, you open the big doors, leading to the comfort of your house; you don't get in, you throw yourself in. The warm atmosphere engulfed you like a summer kiss on a winter storm, all you needed to ground yourself to reality for now. Grabbing some sheets laying over an old counter, you wrap yourself in it – oh, that's gonna get soaked in blood, but that's not of your concern now – moving incredibly fast for someone as hurt as yourself, you follow the continuous sounds that could not mean something good. The main doors are open, the cellar is unlocked as well, that idiotic man-thing couldn't even close the doors once he finished slaughtering your home? Imbecile.

You stand at the library's door now, suddenly frozen; you know what happened in there... do you really want to get in? Are you truly ready to face it again? Maybe you should take a step back and walk away, it would be the most logical decision to take now.

But what is logic when the heart screams? What is the brain for once your emotions take the best of you? You can't walk away. Put some honor on your name. Save the last bit of your daughter that fate is still conceiving you. Your chest rises and falls completely out of coordination, your fists close around the fabric involving your body; get ready, you're going in; gather the last bit of courage you have inside yourself and blast these doors.

And so you do.

You bring those pieces of wood to the ground, the only barrier between you and the reality you couldn't accept; a guttural growl forms in your chest as you see a lycan approach your child's crystalized body; you're blind with ire, sorrow, protectorship - you name it - and it makes you shout at the top of your lungs as you dilacerate the filthy beasts you'd bat your eye at. A bloody trail of corpses marks your way through the castle grounds, your claws dripping with fresh sanguine fluid - which you can't tell if it's from the creatures or from yourself - the crimson path follows you all the way to the other wing of mansion like a spirit who must haunt you for eternity.

You scream like a feral animal, blood soaking the once white cloth around your form; the scream becomes a shriek, which descends to a yelp, ending as a furious cry. You can feel the anger leaving you, like the waters of a waterfall; explosive, big portions of water falling into a numb, deaden lake. Hopefully those waters will carry you with them, you shall fall and sink at a anesthetizing lagoon.

You kneel, eyes closed, eyebrows frowned; a loud sigh fills the deafening silence in the air, your mind is blank – better, your mind is red, scarlet red mixed with black, ire and grief. Slowly, your head lower itself so you're facing the floor.

The big Lady Dimitrescu,

kneeling on a pool of blood, defeated.

•

“Lady Dimitrescu!”

Who..? The voice was so far yet so close, you try your best to focus on the direction of the calls but your nerves just won't cooperate.

“Lady!”

Who would be calling for you? Is your mind playing tricks on you now? And since when you were laying on the floor? Too many questions for too little answers. You try to stand up, but a sharp pain on your side made you cry out and fall on your back, face knotted in pain – perhaps your adrenaline rush was keeping you from feeling what was really happening with your body, and now you feel like you're betraying yourself for that.

A small figure approaches you in a fast pace, causing you to unleash your claws one more time and snarl at the not-so-possible threat; you were hurt. Vulnerable. Letting someone close was the last thing you wanted now. The humanoid thing backs away a few steps with your aggressive reaction, hands on their chest, visibly afraid – even though your vision is quite blurry, you identify their expression: scared, desperate, sorrowful – they call out once more, almost shouting.

“Please, Lady Dimitrescu, let me help!”

Ah... Help... The now clearer feminine voice washes over you - a wave of compassion - as if hope has found its way to your house again. Well, it better go away again, or you'll drag it out yourself.

“Out.” was all that left your lips, your intense gaze locking with hers, a silent yet not so discrete warning; although you had only said one word, it was well understood by the woman, who stepped away, eyes still meeting yours, a dreadful cast hang on her face.

Still, she didn't left.

Is that girl testing her luck? It can only be. Once again you warn her: “Leave. I will not repeat myself.”

Her posture stiffens, after a moment of silence she looks at the door, truly wondering about leaving or not; her body turns around, her knuckles going white from how hard she was grabbing the fabric on her chest – she's conflicted. But why? Who is she, after all? – A long, defeated sigh leaves her, as if she knows there is no choice left.

“Allow me to help.” A failed effort on trying to sound confident; her voice is full of tears and her tone is oscillating – it makes you wonder if she has been crying – The human walks towards you, trying not to make any eye contact; you can't stand on your feet, you left hand is pressed on your injured side, the other is open and directing your now extended nails towards her.

Oh how funny it is, no?

The predator being cornered by the prey. The dragon being trapped by the rabbit. How ridiculous it is.

Her extremely shaky hands hang in front of her, trying to say she won't hurt you – oh if she only knew it's going to be the other way round. – One step closer.. Her lips and chin tremble; Another. Your claws grow bigger, eyes peering through her soul; another step, your eyebrows frown, her eyes are teary. The last step - your blood is boiling hot, your nerves on edge; you are still the predator. - a slicing sound and a half-scream saturate the air for a millisecond, just for silence to overfill it once more. Red splashes over the room again, on your face, on your chest, but mostly on the floor, where the girl was thrown at.

An agonizing scream leaves her throat - what a miracle, she remains alive - both of her hands cover her face, blood spilling all over her; what a sight, you would most definitely enjoy this very much on another situation. She cries out in despair, making you face the ceiling and close your eyes, a tired look on your face – you just want all this to end, you don't have any more patience for this. You want to crawl back into your bed and starve, you want to destroy this place, make it abandoned ruins of what one day was a home; you want to kill that damned sickening man-thing, kill this foolish girl for perturbing your grieving, and then yourself.

The woman captures your attention once again, she is kneeling, her body facing yours, her right hand presses her ripped face, the other makes its slow way up to you, although she is trembling, she manages to keep her hand steady enough to hand you a little green flask with a yellow-y label; You look closer, 'treatment disinfectant' it says... Oh you can only be joking. You feel like slaughtering the girl right this instant, but takes in a deep breath and holds the flask, her hand immediately falling along with her body. Is she dead? No, her slow yet consistent breathing exclaims that she is still alive – you honestly find it a bit offensive – You should, but you cannot bring yourself to finish the human; you should end her suffering, but now she caught your attention; and besides, she wants to help, doesn't she? then the price she'll pay is staying alive.

———

hahaaa I'm so nervous about posting this,,, ,

and yes! It is a alcina x maiden fic! I do plan it to be slow burn, and if some you liked it and read it till here, please like and/or reblog and I'll post chapter 2!

( posted on Ao3! Name: “The woman in your castle” )

( chapter 2 posted!! )

[madelineorionswan]

The new Potters

Chapter 6: Brace yourselves!

Summary: After what seemed like only a day to Harry, Y/N's due date is fast approaching. But let's just say, baby James, can't sit still.

Warnings: Fluff, crying, mentions of delivery, multiple POVs, premature delivery.

A/N: I know you guys can't see me but I am literally sobbing as I write this. This is too fluffy and hits me right in the heartstrings. I hope that you all feel the same level of fluffy. Harry requires all the love and floof. Also, this is pretty crappy.

Reader's POV

"I can't wait to see our little peanut!" Harry almost squealed, hugging me from behind.

I laughed out. Honestly, I knew Harry was a bit clingy and that went up quite a lot through my first trimester. But GOSH, did he get even more clingy. He wouldn't let me go anywhere without him. But I would be lying if I said that I didn't like his longing hugs and sudden kisses.

"Even I can't Harry but, could you stop...strangling me?"

"Oh sorry love," Harry murmured shyly and reluctantly let go of me.

After I finished making breakfast, Harry carried the plates out to the dining room. When I arrived he pulled out the chair for me.

I giggled and was about to sit down when all of a sudden, Harry sat down and pulled me gently onto his lap.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" I giggled as Harry pulled me closer into his embrace and buried his face into the crook of my neck.

"Want to be close to you," He mumbled, making me giggle more.

We both silently had our breakfast, Harry occasionally rubbing my swollen belly.

Just as I was about to get up, Harry suddenly yet carefully scooped me up.

"Uhm you do know that I can walk myself,"

"Darling, your pregnant, I'm not letting you walk, you could get hurt or something,"

I shook my head playfully. He really was protective, but it melted my heart. Harry carefully set me down on the couch. He then adjusted the cushions just how I liked them.

"Ok now, Y/N do you need anything?"

"I could use a good boo-"

Before I could even finish, Harry had dashed inside and came back with a stack of books.

"Didn't know which one you'd like so I got 'em all."

I smiled and pulled him for a kiss.

"Thank you Haz,"

His face was beaming as he sat down beside me, gently laying his head on my belly. I ran my fingers through his messy raven locks and he sighed.

"Hey there buddy, I hope you don't give your mum a hard time. We can't wait to see you,"

My smile widened as I looked lovingly at the man who I was proud to call the love of my life, the father of my unborn son. I got a little teary-eyed as I continued to observe him place a kiss on my belly, ever so gently.

"Love why are you crying, did I hurt you?" Harry asked anxiously, wiping the tears that had fallen on my cheeks.

"No," I whispered softly, cupping his face, "You did everything right,"

Harry bestowed me with a soft smile, before kissing me sweetly. We laid in each other's arms for the rest of the morning, Harry talking occasionally to James jr. It was safe to say that this was one of the best mornings I had experienced.

---

I was in my 8th month and it was clear that James jr. couldn't be more excited to be out of me.

I was sitting on our bed as Harry chatted animatedly with my belly. I giggled slightly seeing his face light up with joy, as he felt the baby kick.

"We've got a little quidditch player haven't we?" Harry chuckled.

"It gets a little annoying if he's kicking every few minutes," I gasped as I felt him kick me again.

Harry kissed me softly and then kissed my belly. Getting out of bed, he scooped me up in his arms and carried me downstairs. He really was a gentleman.

Setting me down on the couch he went back inside. I was humming softly when all of a sudden I felt wetness between my legs.

I scrambled off the couch, but more liquid started to trickle down my legs. Just then I felt a sharp pain in my lower abdomen.

Oh no no-no-no. This couldn't be happening. I wasn't due until a month! I looked up to see Harry frozen in his place near the door frame, clearly very scared.

Harry's POV

I had just come back with a few cushions. Suddenly I heard a gasp come from the living room. I dropped the cushions and rushed outside but froze when I saw what had happened.

Y/N's face was pale as she looked underneath her. Her water must have broken. We soon made eye contact.

"H-harry!" she whispered panic-stricken. I felt myself panicking like crazy. But I rushed to her side.

"Hey love breathe for me, it'll be alright, I'm here," I whispered, running my hands through her hair.

I frantically pulled out my wand and sent a Patronus to Hermione's house, praying that she would come to St. Mungos as soon as she could.

"Harry we need to go to the hospital," Y/N groaned.

I nodded and we both flued to the hospital. We were lucky to bump into Y/N's healer the moment we entered the hospital.

She took us to a room, told us to get comfortable and left. I held onto Y/Ns hand, nodding to let her know that she could squeeze my hand as hard as she needed.

I knew we both were in for a ride.

Hermione's POV.

I was having a regular morning relaxing when I heard the gushing of wind. I looked up just in time to see a silvery stag, enter the kitchen.

"Y/N's in labour. Come to St. Mungos," The stag soon drifted out through the window, vanishing into thin air. I got up from the settee and hurried inside where I saw my husband Ron fumbling about the closet.

I groaned. He really was annoying sometimes.

"RON!!!"

Author's POV

Ron whirled around to see a very exasperated Hermione huff.

"What?"

"Well if you haven't seen the patrons that entered the house, Y/N is in labour, send out a Patronus!!"

Bloody hell! well, why didn't you say so?" Ron rushed outside and sent patronuses to Grimmauld place and the burrow respectively.

The two then proceeded to flu to the hospital, where they immediately bumped into Ginny.

"I came as soon as I heard," she said, out of breath. Hermione only nodded in response and sat down with Ginny.

One by one all of the Weasleys arrived at St. Mungos. But the wait seemed quite agonising to them. All of them were engaged in conversation when all of a sudden someone apparated and bumped into Molly, making everyone turn their heads.

"BLOODY HELL, I'M NOT LATE AM I? OH NO DID I MISS SOMETHING?!?! I WAS STUCK IN THE FIREPLACE FOR A FULL HOUR AND THEN THE DOOR GO-"

"Now now Sirius you can calm down, It's alright you haven't missed anything," Molly patted the messy raven-haired man's shoulder, making him calm down slightly."

"Sorry Molly it's just that, I've already missed so much in harry's life I just can't afford to miss such a big moment," Sirius took steadying breathes as he kept on pacing.

"Well, guess you're just in time,"

Everyone whirled around to see Harry, his face beaming. His cheeks were wet and it was evident he had just finished crying.

"Harry dear," Molly hugged Harry tightly, as he returned the affection as best as he could.

"So, you all ready to see him?"

Everyone smiled and nodded, carefully following Harry into the room.

Reader's POV

It was finally over! After a lot of blood, sweat and tears (literally!), he was finally here. After delivering our little pumpkin and the umbilical cord was cut, the nurses took him away to clean him.

I started feeling anxious, I knew the dangers of premature births. Tears started stinging my eyes at the possibility of losing our little baby. I looked up to see Harry still gripping my hand. His eyes were glossy and I knew he was thinking about the same things as me.

I gave his hand a subtle squeeze making him lookup.

"Hey, he's a fighter, just like his dad, I know he'll make it," I smiled. However many doubts I had in my mind, this was a thing I knew and I wasn't going to stop believing in it.

"You're the one who endured 6 hours of labour I should be the one supporting you," Harry scoffed slightly, but a smile was making itself known on his face.

But just I'd believed it, the healers soon entered the room with a bundle of towels; our bundle of joy.

"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Potter, you've got a perfectly healthy son," The healer said handing me, James.

I started crying again but this time of joy. After 8 months of waiting he was in my arms.

"I can't believe we made him," Harry said moving the towel a little.

I turned around and saw the biggest and brightest smile on his face, one that I'd seen on the day we both got married.

"He's beautiful, just like his mum," Harry kissed me sweetly, as I smiled into the kiss.

When we pulled away, I gave him the bundle of joy. As if he was afraid that he was going to hurt James, Harry gingerly cradled him. But soon he got used to it. The expression on his was that of pure awe and love. Tears gathered in his eyes as he cuddled James lovingly.

"I love you so much buddy," Harry beamed, placing a feather-like kiss on his head.

I sighed happily, seeing the two boys who completed me. Laying back on the bed, my eyes felt heavy as the tiredness set in.

"Do you think we should call them in, that is if you're not too tired?" Harry asked, sitting down on the chair beside my bed.

I nodded tiredly as harry handed me, James. He got up and left for the Weasleys and Sirius. A few minutes later an entire family of gingers, with the occasional blonde and brunette entered. A raven-haired man followed them.

"How are you doing dearie?" Molly asked me, affectionately caressing my head softly.

"I couldn't be better Molly," I smiled gratefully.

"So, what are you going to name,?" Hermione asked earnestly.

I smiled softly and turned to Harry, nodding in approval.

"We'll call him James. James Sirius Potter." Harry smiled proudly, as he looked at Sirius.

Sirius smiled back, his eyes were glassy. He clapped Harry's shoulder and embraced him tightly. Then he moved to give me a side hug. He took one look at James jr. and his eyes brimmed with even more tears but he had a wide and earnest smile on his face.

Over the next few hours, James was passed around the room as the Weasley fawned over a mini version of us.

"Rest my love, we'll be here when you'll wake up," Harry stroked my cheek softly.

I have the best family in the world, I thought as I finally succumbed to slumber.

[coraskeeper]

⇢ 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 (𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗸𝘀, 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲) 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵

↳𝗳𝘁: 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹, 𝗸𝗶𝗱, 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿, 𝗴𝗻! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

↳𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁-𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄, 𝗺𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝗳𝗲𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗵??, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀

↳𝘄𝗰: 𝟭.𝟱𝗸

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐄𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬

soul doesn’t even remember why he invited you over, he just made up some lame excuse to be close to you and- you fell for it. so uncool. he’s playing a video game on his bed next to you as you swipe through tiktok, coming across an odd video. the boy paid you little attention only glancing over at you maybe once or twice every few minutes. his ruby orbs full of confusion as you stuffed your finger inside of your mouth rubbing along your teeth, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

he just turns a blind eye to your antics at first, chalking it up to just one of those weird you things. 

he ignores you up until he feels you frantically crawl across the bed until you're leaning onto his shoulder, urging him to pause his game because what you had to do was way too important to wait.

“ you wanna do what? “

“ wanna touch your teeth, just this once “

he wants to say no but the way you're staring up at him with your bottom lip jutted out is just too much and he rolls his eyes before giving in to your whines.

it catches him off guard when you sit up and swing a thigh over his lap while tilting his head back to get a better view of his mouth.

his view of you on top of him was all too real, too heavenly and he was starting to lose him resolve quickly. your painted fingernail traced his bottom lip before prodding his mouth and glazing your finger across his sharp teeth.

his heart was in his ass and his pale skin felt like it was melting with how intimate this position was, accidentally letting out a deep groan when you squeezed his jaw to gain more access to the inside of his mouth.

“ your teeth are so pretty, soul “ you mumbled to him, an innocent smile gracing your pretty brown skin, “ so cool “.

you pulled your finger back from his mouth, a string of his saliva sticking to it before you shifted your position a little, souls hand flying to your waist to keep your hips in midair.

he knew you were about to make yourself right at home in his lap but he was so painfully hard that if you were to squat down just a little, you’d feel it.

though he was rather cool, he was about to lose his mind and he wanted out of whatever weird situation you’d put him in, “ are you done now? “

you pout, “ boo, you’re no fun soul “

you climb off of him and head to the bathroom to wash your hands, him frantically trying to readjust his hard on and hide it from you before you got back.

seriously, i'm not some teenage boy anymore yet i'm sitting here popping boners at the stupidest crap.. so uncool.

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝

he wasn’t even sure how he found himself in such a childish predicament.

you standing over him, all pretty and symmetrical, in an apron, worried eyes focused on his mouth as one of your hands were on the nape of his neck and the other hand two fingers pressing down lightly on his tongue.

then there was him, sweat starting to form under his bangs and heat creeping up his neck and ears, hands thrown haphazardly across his lap as he sat in the kitchen chair, hard.

you had decided to cook for him, liz, and patty today to thank them for saving your ass on a mission a few days ago.

kid had been crushing on you for quite some time, falling in love with how unique you were instantly. you were good at almost anything you put your mind to and he admired that about you.

so, as one does- he finds any little excuse to be in your presence.

patty and liz sat comfortably in their living room while kid offered to help you in the kitchen as you looked for him, it was very ungentlemanly of him to not help a lady in need.

while you were turned around cutting some vegetables for the salad, kid watched over your soup for you as you instructed.

when you asked him to taste it for you to make sure it had enough seasoning, you hadn’t thought he’d shove the whole spoon into his mouth without blowing first.

kid couldn’t even register what happened after he dropped the metal spoon against the floor, after letting out a loud pained gasp holding his mouth, he blinked and you were standing between his legs as he sat in a chair from his dining room table.

your face contorted in worry as you eye his tongue and bottom lip again, “ damn kid, i know you’re a shinigami and everything but you’ve gotta be careful “

he simply nodded, watching as you puckered your soft brown lips to blow on his bottom lip a little, it sent a shiver right up his spine and right back down to his nether regions.

he wants to just lean up and take your lips right now, take you right in the middle of the kitchen but- he must digress.

the last thing he’d want to do is turn the situation into something it wasn’t and make you uncomfortable, and there was no way your first kiss with him would be in his kitchen with your fingers shoved in his mouth. 

your soft fingers pushing down against him tongue a little, “ does this hurt? “, you look him in the eyes and his knees go weak.

he felt like a pervert, his mind giving him way more compromising images of you with your fingers roaming his mouth.

“ nuh uh “

your fingers coated in his spit as he turns even more red if possible, your thumb catching his bottom lip and he almost moans, “ how about here? “

“ im okay, thank you “

you give him a once over before leaving back with a sigh and heading over to the sink to wash your hands, “ be more careful “

“ i-i apologize “, though he’s lying right through his teeth.

he knows it’s wrong and he feels so dirty being strained against his slacks and boxers like this. kid doesn’t feel a bit sorry, contrary to his apology.

instead, he’s now contemplating how he should hurt himself next.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

if there was one thing black star loved to do with you, it was train.

you were an amazing fighter and he was honored to spar with you. over the course of the few years he’d known you, he’d fallen for you and your subtle charms. 

he loved when those pretty glowing orbs of yours whenever you stared at him with such determination as sweat dripped off your body.

you happened to be a little more aggressive today than usual, coming at him with more force than you should’ve but the great black star could handle it, right?

for a moment he let his guard down, eyes dragging over your worn out body, tanned skin glistening under the harsh beams of the sun.

thwack!

your foot connecting with his jaw sending him flying back onto the ground holding his hands over his mouth, your frantic screaming filling his ears.

“ oh my god, black star im sorry, are you- OH GOD YOU'RE BLEEDING! “, he stared up at you blankly as you tugged his upper half towards you kneeling over his lap.

he hadn’t even felt the pain to be honest and a little blood never hurt him, but having you over him in such a compromising position had him stuck. his piercing blue eyes trained over your sweaty face.

one of your arm’s slung across his shoulders, “ open, let me see “

he hadn’t even noticed you grab a stray water bottle to rinse your hands before you stuck two of your fingers in his mouth, examining his swollen tongue. his stomach churning and his face turning red.

“ im sorry, i shouldn't have kicked you so hard “, your voice is soft and soothing, but he didn’t even hear you.

shifting to get a better view of the inside of his mouth, he could say he was containing himself pretty well until you connected your hips to his lower stomach and this became too much for him to handle.

the stimulation was more than what he agreed to when he let you claim your spot over his thighs with your small fingers caressing his tongue.

his hands flying up to grip your hips with a groan, one you thought was because of the pain you caused him from the kick, when in reality- it was because he popped a stiff in his sweats.

his hard on standing at attention right under you, he was so tempted to just slide your hips down right over him, have you take responsibility for your actions.

“ you didn’t swallow any blood did you? “, looking down at his now half lidded eyes with worry, him giving you an airy groan against your fingers in response.

pulling you hand back from his mouth, your thumb softly swiping across his bottom lip to collect some of the blood and drool left.

your hips grinding against him in a sensual way as you looked at the bruise left on his chin, this was so dirty but he was loving every bit of it. almost cumming in his pants like a 13 year old boy.

“ maybe i should take you to the nurse? “, you unattached yourself from him grabbing his empty water bottle off the ground walking ahead.

he sat there dejected in a cold sweat, what the literal fuck .

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | SIX

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,804

warnings: fluff. lots of fluff. a sprinkle of angst but just a tiny bit.

18+!!! minors stay away!

The following morning at school you relieved to see Peter standing at your locker, appearing unscathed aside from the timid and fearful look in his eye as he watched you approach him. You knew that he was probably expecting you to shut him out again, though you were full of surprises that morning when you breathed a quiet sigh and felt all the remaining anger purge from your system entirely. In reality you had been planning to give him a piece of your mind, telling him just how much of an idiot you thought that he was for his stupid idea, but seeing him sent all those thoughts flying away in an instant.

Instead, all that you could think of was how happy you were to see that he was okay. He was tense as you opened your locker, but seemed to relax slightly when you gave him a fleeting once over and nodded to yourself in approval. Peter was standing and didn't look to be in any pain, and that was all you cared about in that moment.

Apparently Peter was full of surprises too, because the second that you closed your locker he pulled you into a bone crushing hug that quite literally knocked the wind out of you. You gasped quietly, freezing in place at the sudden contact, before you slowly melted into his grip and hugged him back. He somehow managed to squeeze you tighter at the return of the embrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into your hair, "I'm so, so, so sorry."

A part of you wondered if Peter even knew what exactly he was apologizing for, if he really understood just why you were upset. Did he know the sorts of things that had crossed your mind last night? Could he really fathom all the crazy emotions you had been feeling?

You didn't think he did. Really, how could he, when even you were still reeling and trying to pinpoint all the different reasons you had been so upset? There were the obvious reasons--like the horrible flashbacks to that fateful day when your sister had been tragically killed--but there were also more complex, subtle reasons that you weren't ready to admit out loud.

Things like the fact that you'd never been so enraged about anything as you had been at the thought of somebody hurting Peter Parker. Not even the animosity you felt toward the Avengers could compare to the fury you had felt while listening to him fight and be attacked by those men. It puzzled you; how could that affect you so much?

You knew why, despite your unwillingness to face the truth. You knew, deep down, that you had been so upset because the thought of Peter being hurt scared you nearly as much as you had been that day. It pained you to think of it, and that was a problem.

It was a problem because being friends with Peter, when he lived the life that he did, meant constantly living in that fear. He was a superhero, constantly putting his life on the line for all the innocent people of Queens and the world alike, and that was absolutely terrifying for you. And yet, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to push him away like you felt you should.

He pulled away from you slowly, though he kept his hands firmly on your shoulders, and studied your face closely as he asked, "Are you okay? Are we okay?"

Hearing Peter say the word we in reference to himself and you gave you a funny feeling, but you ignored it. "Are you okay?" you parroted, instead, raising your eyebrows challengingly.

"Yes." he stated without hesitation, "I had some bruising, but it's mostly gone now. It wasn't as bad as it sounded, I swear."

You hummed quietly, leading the way to Calculus as he finally released his iron-like grip on your arms. "And was there a reason you didn't come to my window?" you questioned further, glancing back at the boy who chewed his lower lip anxiously.

Peter didn't answer until the two of you had sat in your seats, leaning close to speak in a hushed tone that no one else could hear, "I didn't want to scare you."

The sharp remark was instantly at the tip of your tongue, wanting to spit at him that he already had, repeatedly, but you held back at the sight of his big, brown, puppy eyes blinking at you shyly. He was fiddling with his fingers apprehensively, clearly waiting for some sort of remark, and it gave you pause. This was Peter, and Peter wouldn't hurt a fly intentionally.

You had to keep reminding yourself of that. Reminding yourself that he didn't mean to scare you like he had, and that he meant well even if his intentions didn't quite land right. So, you just whispered back, "It scared me when you didn't show up, and you didn't say anything."

"I--I didn't know if you wanted me to."

Catching one of his fretting hands in your own, you gave him a serious look as you replied, "I always want you to."

The teacher called the class to attention immediately after you closed your mouth, and you turned away with burning cheeks at the star-struck look on Peter's face. Perhaps that had been too bold of a statement, but it was the truth; you did always want to hear from Peter. You always wanted to know if he was okay, even if all he had to say to you was a bland text to let you know he'd survived another night of patrol.

Now, after all the things you had heard, you hoped he'd take your words seriously and let you in like you had for him. Could you go to sleep every night without knowing for sure he had made it through the night unscathed? Easily, the answer was no. You couldn't, and you really wanted him to put your mind at ease.

After gym class, which was spent with you panting whilst running sprints with Peter pretending to be just as winded, he held your bag for you beside your locker and waited patiently for you to exchange your books. You could tell that something was on his mind from the way he shifted from foot to foot nervously, and growing tired of having to chase your bag around, you asked, "What's your deal, Pete?"

He blinked at the nickname, but after a moment finally found his voice again, "Sit with me at lunch?"

"Okay?"

"No, like, sit with Ned, MJ, and I." he reiterated, and you wrinkled your nose. "Come on, I promise they'll love you! There's really nothing to be scared of, (Y/N)."

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that there were in fact a million reasons for you to be scared, but he pouted his lips like a child and pleaded with you silently until you caved, "Fine, fuck, just stop making that face!"

And so, you found yourself trailing through the cafeteria awkwardly in Peter's shadow. You could feel the stares on your body even though you refused to look, the stares of all your fellow students watching the resident crazy girl make her way through the cafeteria all year. You usually sat at the table right by the doors and the garbage cans, the one place you could slip in and out without making a spectacle of yourself, but Peter's usual table was all the way in the back of the large room.

There sat Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones, both of whom were watching you curiously as you looked back at them in discomfort. You'd never known them to be mean--well, Michelle could mean in her blunt manner--but that didn't ease your nerves at all. The fear you felt wasn't because you were weary of their judgment.

You were scared of letting more people into your life. More attachments meant more for you to lose, and after all that you had lost, you were rather unwilling to put yourself out there. It was a surprise enough to yourself and probably everyone else that you'd made room in your caged heart for Peter. He was perhaps the most dangerous of all to let in, yet you had.

"Hey, (Y/N), right?" Ned greeted cheerfully, doing a weird handshake with Peter as the two of you sat down across from him and MJ. You just nodded, not trusting your voice to come out should you dare to speak. "How was the Stark Internship, dude?"

Your face pinched in puzzlement, and Peter chuckled at the way you glanced at him curiously. "She knows, Ned." he muttered, nudging your knee with his own as he pulled a smashed sandwich from his bag and unwrapped it. "It was... rough. I handled it, though."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the Stark Internship was a cover story for Peter's secret identity. "She knows? You told her, already?" MJ gaped, "No offense, but I had to figure that shit out for myself."

As Ned and MJ stared at Peter incredulously, the two of you shared a look as you begged him not to say anything and he scrambled to think of any sort of a cover story. "She--she helped me one night when I got hurt pretty bad. Had to take my mask off." he finally blurted, stumbling over his words, and you noticed how his eyes squeezed shut for a moment in frustration at his lame answer.

"Why didn't you call one of us?" Ned interrogated, eyes flickering between your own and Peter's as if he were trying to pick up on any dishonesty.

MJ, blunt as always, just asked, "Is that why you started following her around like a dog?"

You had to chuckle when Peter pouted, sticking his tongue out at Michelle's remark and whining, "I did not follow her around like a dog!"

"You kind of did." you mumbled quietly. All three of them stared at you in stunned silence for a few seconds, shocked by your sudden interjection, and you busied yourself with rearranging your carrot sticks.

Peter's knee bumped yours again, and you nudged his back. He shot you a little smile, pleased with you making an effort even if it was thoughtless, and you found yourself relaxing slightly under his gaze as MJ and Ned continued to joke about how much Peter had embarrassed himself following you around. "Remember when he threw all of his shit on the ground in Calculus?" Ned sputtered through laughter.

The brown-haired boy's cheeks blazed red at the story, and you found yourself laughing along with his two friends as you remembered it. At the time it had only embarrassed you, but now as you looked back on it, you couldn't help but to find it endearing. So, you nudged his knee again and bit back the grin fighting its way onto your face as you kept your eyes on your lunch.

Suddenly, he put his hand on your knee and squeezed it softly, and your entire body seemed to burst into flames. Before you could pull away, scared of the intense feeling it gave you, a voice cut above all the rest, "Penis Parker!"

His hand was gone in an instant, but you remained hot for an entirely different reason. Flash Thompson sauntered up to the table with his typical smug smirk, calling again, "Hey, Penis Parker! Finally find a girl miserable enough to settle for you?"

Peter's face turned red and pinched into a frown, but he just muttered quietly, "Go away, Flash."

"Figures you'd go for (Y/N). The whole dead family thing, right? Does she just get you?"

You tensed, turning your head slowly to glare up at Flash with a ferocity that seemed to even make him falter, though he hid it quickly behind his usual mask. "Go the fuck away, Eugene." you hissed, but he just laughed.

Seeing that he wasn't planning on going anywhere, punctuated by the way he propped his foot up on one of the seats and sneered down at you, you quickly grabbed all of your stuff and stood up. Peter, Ned, and MJ were quick to follow, and all four of you made your way out of the cafeteria as Flash shouted, "Aw, did I hurt your feelings, Penis Parker?"

"Peter?" you called after him, trailing behind as he walked at a brisk pace. Ned and MJ disappeared around a corner, heading off in a different direction, and you were trying to catch up with the boy who seemed eager to shake you off. "Pete?"

He slowed, sighing quietly, and turned to face you with still red cheeks and eyes swimming with anger. "What?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Briefly, you felt hurt at his attitude, but you brushed it off. You knew that he was just frustrated at Flash, and you were no stranger to misplaced anger. It would have been pretty hypocritical of you to be upset with him after how long he'd put up with you lashing out at him when he just wanted to be your friend.

You walked toward him hesitantly, almost reaching out to hug him, but you thought better of it in the end. You didn't want to push things too far, too fast, and one hug was more than enough for one day. Instead, you rocked back on your heels and asked, "Walk me to class?"

Peter blinked at the question, clearly expecting you to say something else, and after a moment nodded. "Yeah, yeah, let's go." He didn't relax at all as he walked beside you through the still empty halls, though his hand kept bumping yours every now and then, and for a fleeting second outside of your classroom he squeezed your hand before dropping it and walking away.

The rest of the day, Peter was stiff and aloof. He barely talked to you during Speech class, though that didn't really matter considering Ms. Lovell actually lectured that day, but you could tell he was upset. It felt a little strange to suddenly switch roles; he was now playing the part of the closed off one, and you were left trying to figure out how to get through to him.

Making people feel better wasn't exactly your strong suit anymore. Once upon a time it had been, but since your sister's death you'd seemingly lost the ability to even make yourself better. Yet, you wanted more than anything to get him back to the smiling, happy boy he'd been earlier that day.

As the two of you packed up your things after class to go home, you watched him anxiously to see if he'd finally say something, but he didn't. So, you cleared your throat and quietly asked, "Do you want to hang out?"

He paused for a moment, staring down at his bag in silence with tensed shoulders and creased brows, before finally looking up at you and giving the tiniest smile. "Come on." was all he said, zipping his bag and waiting expectantly for you to follow him out of the classroom.

You followed him out of the building, to the subway, onto the subway, and off of it again, all without a single clue as to where you were going. It wasn't until the he lead you into an apartment building that you realized he was taking you to his house, and suddenly you were extremely nervous. "Do you live here?" you asked, immediately cringing at the stupid question.

He just laughed, "Yeah. My Aunt May is home, she'll probably offer you food, but just say no. Trust me."

For a moment you wanted to ask why, but then you remembered how he'd told you when he'd first started following you around that his Aunt May was a truly atrocious cook. Except for cherry pie, it seemed, because he'd raved to you about that over the phone for what felt like hours the other day. Nodding affirmatively, you replied, "Right, just say no."

Peter's home life was far different from your own, even before the incident. His aunt was a bright, lively young woman who was very excited to meet you, and just as much of an affectionate person as you were finding Peter to be. She'd been overjoyed to meet you, letting slip that Peter had told her lots about you, but he'd cut her off before she could ramble about the things he'd said.

Part of you wondered if he'd told her how the two of you had met, but you knew better than to think Peter would do such a thing. He wasn't the type of person to spill others' secrets. How could he, when he had such a big secret of his own?

His room was everything you had expected it to be, though. A cramped little room with bunk beds adorning Star Wars sheets, LEGOs everywhere, and a plethora of computer parts littering every possible surface. He blushed a little as you took it all in, stammering when you smirked at the sheets in amusement, but overall he seemed relieved when you didn't mention the clutter.

It was very Peter Parker. Messy, slightly chaotic, and very nerdy. You sat on the bottom bunk, which you deciphered to be his by the rumpled sheets, and watched as he awkwardly tried to sort out the mess a little. "So," you started, "why don't you stand up to Flash at school?"

He sighed, giving up on his tidying and sitting beside you. "I knew you would ask that." he joked, though the humor didn't quite meet his eyes. "It's a long story."

"I have time, Pete." you spoke softly, and a little smile twitched at his lips.

He raked a hand through his messy hair, the combed style starting to curl from a long day, and you wondered what his hair looked like with nothing done to it. "Well, I guess it all goes back to when I first got... my abilities. You know, after the bite, I kinda went crazy for a bit. I was determined to prove myself, or something--I don't know. I just showed off a lot and got myself into a lot of trouble because of it."

Peter continued when you looked at him expectantly, "My Uncle Ben was going crazy too, trying to figure out what was going on with me. We got into a lot of fights before he--before he, um, died. We got into one the night he died."

"He tried to stop me from going out because he just knew I was going to do something I shouldn't, and we just got into this huge argument. It ended with me telling him he wasn't my dad and to stop pretending he was, and I ran off." He was getting choked up, stumbling over his words and gripping his knees with his hands as tears welled up in his eyes at the memories.

Hesitantly, you put your hand on top of his, and he was quick to flip his hand over and grip yours tightly as if he were afraid you'd pull away from him. As he spoke, it was starting to sink in just how much Peter truly could understand your anguish over your sister. He could understand why you blamed yourself, because he too had blamed himself, and your heart broke at the thought of Peter ever being in a position like the one you'd been in that night.

Had he ever tried to do what you had planned to do? Your own eyes burned at the thought, and you squeezed his hand back just as tightly. "He came looking for me, and happened to interrupt a robbery. Uncle Ben, he--he was a really good guy. He couldn't just let the guy get away. So, he uh, he tried to stop him... and the guy stabbed him."

"I'd seen the robbery before that, but I'd been so angry I just kept walking. I could have stopped it before Uncle Ben ever showed up, but I didn't, and he got stabbed because of it." Peter coughed to stop himself from really crying, "The last thing he said to me was that with great power comes great responsibility, and I just can't let him down."

You almost wished that you hadn't asked, because it hurt to see him in so much pain, but you felt good knowing that Peter really did understand you. You felt closer to him, and a little part of you felt a little less distaste for superheroes in that moment too. Did they all know such tragedy? Did they all suffer such pain, too?

Peter looked at you, blinking away tears as his voice steadied, "So, that's why I don't use Spiderman unless I have to. I didn't stand up for myself before, so I shouldn't now. I didn't play sports before, so I shouldn't now. It wouldn't be fair, and it wouldn't be right. I have this gift, and it's my responsibility to use it for good. I can deal with Flash's stupid taunting--I was so upset today because of what he said about you."

The fluttering was back, stronger than ever, and you couldn't shove it aside no matter how hard you tried. The moment was too serious--too heartfelt. It was too close.

Doing what you did best, you created a little more distance to keep your heart safe. You weren't ready to admit that maybe you liked Peter in a not-so-friendly sort of way. You weren't ready to let him into that last little bit of your heart.

So, you joked, "Well, he was right about one thing--I do get you." To your relief, he laughed, though he didn't let go of your hand. You didn't want him to, either.

"Seriously, though, you don't have to worry about me. Flash doesn't bother me, not really anyways." Peter continued, and the pair of you smiled at each other like a couple of love-struck fools for a long moment. Peter, unlike you, wasn't so keen on or capable of hiding his feelings. It was written all over his face for you to see that he liked you, and even if it made you feel good it still made you squirm with discomfort.

You were just thankful that he hadn't tried to take things further, though the subtle touches were probably his timid way of doing just that. The touches you could handle. It was what came after--the truly taking things to that next level part--that scared you. If you told him how you thought you were feeling, and he told you the same, then that just made the possibility of losing him that much worse.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony

[youbloodymadgenius]

Brother (a Modern!Ivar fic with an unexpected Ragnarsson as special guest)

A/N: This is my entry to @maggiescarborough​ celebration. Happy early Anniversary, love 💝

I’m quite proud of this one! So, please, I know it’s not a reader insert, but give it a try, give it a chance 🙏🏽

Prompt in bold, as usual.

@inforapound​ - I know how much i owe you. Thank you 💞

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: One of Ivar's brothers was in a car accident. How will Ivar react?

Warning: description of physical injuries; mention of a car crash; medical and surgical inaccuracies.

Words: 2331

As soon as he spots Doctor Mikelsson, Ivar gets up, wincing at the throbbing pain in his legs as he steps closer to the renowned surgeon. 

 "Doc," he says, giving him a slight nod, "How is he?"

 The surgeon sighs tiredly and slowly rubs his palms down his scrubs-clad thighs. "I'd say he has been very lucky. As far as I know, it could have been much worse. Car versus truck is never a winning combo, at least for the car's driver. His car has been completely destroyed, from what I hear. It must have been a terrible wreck. "

"That’s an understatement." Ivar grumbles under his breath, shivering as he struggles to get the images of the crash out of his mind. The pictures he saw were so vivid, he could still hear the screams and ambulance sirens that had undoubtedly filled the accident scene. Closing his eyes for a brief instant, he shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the here and now. 

 "That's not what I was asking, Doc. How is he?" He insists, emphasizing the last three words as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, leaning heaviliy on his crutch, physical and mental discomfort obvious on his face.

 "Well, he's not so bad, all things considered. As I said, it could have been much worse. He's stable and his condition isn't life-threatening. It's serious, though."

 Ivar rolls his eyes, getting impatient. "Straight to the point, Doc, please! And no need to sugarcoat it." His commanding voice is sharp and stern, his tight-lipped expression giving away what little patience he has. 

 "Okay, Ivar." Doctor Mikelsson gives him a weary smile, a hand up in surrender. "About his upper body first. Aside from several bruises, he had a sprained wrist and a cracked rib. The last one will be painful for awhile but it won't be an issue in the long run. His lower body, on the other hand…" The surgeon frowns, visibly gathering his thoughts. "He suffered a double tibia-fibula fracture of his right leg and his pelvis has been multi-fractured; therefore I had to stabilize it with plates and screws. To allow his pelvis to recover, your brother will be bed- and then wheelchair-bound for at least six weeks, maybe more. Not that it matters, anyway, given the condition of his left leg."

 Hearing those words, Ivar shudders. "How…" His voice comes out strangled and he clears his throat. "How is it? You… You could save it, right? That's why I… had him transferred here."

 Putting a soothing hand on Ivar's forearm, the doctor nods. "Yes, I saved it. It was quite a challenge, I must admit. His leg has been severely shattered during the crash, literally crushed by one of the truck's tires. From the top of his thigh to the tips of his toes, not a single bone was intact. I do understand why my colleague from the public hospital wanted to amputate it, you know?"

 "But you saved it?" Ivar asks once again, his free hand running nervously through his disheveled hair.

 "I did." The doctors answers soberly before explaining. "I reduced the largest fractures, using rods and plates there as well. I couldn't avoid putting an external fixator though, his leg was too damaged. He'll still need several more surgeries, but he gets to keep his leg."

 "Thanks, Doc." Ivar adorns a slight smile which doesn't completely reach his eyes. "And what about recovery? He will fully recover, right?" A frown creasing his forehead, Ivar bites his inner cheek, worried and concerned. 

 Grimacing, the surgeon lets out a deep breath. "Ivar, I'm not sure you understand the extent of the damage. It's not just about a couple of broken bones. We're talking about devastating injuries that could have – that should have – resulted in amputation. If you ask me if your brother will walk again, I can't be sure yet, but I'm quite confident he will. Will he need walking aids, like cane, crutch and or leg brace? It's too soon to say. But to be perfectly honest with you, it's quite likely." Seeing Ivar wince, the surgeon gives him an apologetic look. "Sorry Ivar. Be sure I did my best."

 "Don't be sorry, I know you did. It's just a lot to take in. Does he… Does my brother know?"

 Scrunching his face, the surgeon hesitates, unsure. "More or less. I talked to him in the recovery room but he was a bit dazed from the drugs and the nurse had to increase the morphine because he was in pain. He was completely out of it after that. He'll probably sleep through the night so I'll talk to him first thing in the morning." Taking a step back, Doctor Mikelsson stares at Ivar from head to foot, noticing how the blue-eyed man favors his left leg, his right foot barely touching the floor. "You should head home and get some rest, Ivar. I'm pretty sure you've been wearing these braces for far too long." Giving him a light pat on the shoulder, he shrugs. "I'll do the same anyway. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Ivar." 

 ***

 Opening the door as quietly as possible, Ivar watches his sleeping brother. He's awfully pale, his frail frame so small on the hospital bed, his right leg in a cast, his left propped up on a huge pillow. Ivar frowns at the sight of the fixator, which makes him think of a barbaric tool more than a medical device. He suddenly feels grateful that he never needed one. 

 Trying to not make any noise, he crosses the room without using his crutch, struggling and wincing with every step. He's successful but fails to stifle a hiss as he sits down on the chair next to his brother's bed. He looks at him, worried, and sees his eyes flutter open. 

 "Ivar?" His brother's voice is hoarse and the stunned look on his face unmistakable. "Why did you come here? To make fun of me?" There's no fight or fire in his eyes, only exhaustion and sadness. 

 Ivar shrugs, a light smile playing on his lips. "Can't say the thought didn't cross my mind." He lowers his head one second, snorting, and when he raises it again, it's with a serious look on his face. "Guess I wanted to know how you are doing." His voice is barely a whisper and he doesn't look his brother in the eye. 

 "What did you say?" Ivar's brother's tone is suspiscious, dripping with disbelief. "Since when are you concerned about that??" He tries to sit up but groans in pain, collapsing back onto the bed. 

 Worry wrinkling his forehead, Ivar instantly gets up, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hold still, will you? And seriously, tell me, how are you feeling? How is your pain? I mean, on a scale from zero to ten, zero meaning no pain at all and ten an unbearable pain. Tell me, how bad is it?"

 Ivar's brother rubs his cheek with two fingers, squinting his eyes, before letting out a long and audible sigh. "Four I think, maybe five."

 Ivar – who lives on a daily basis with a six or seven rated pain – has to remind himself that his pain treshold is much higher than that of ordinary people. "Okay," he begins softly, "four or five might still be tolerable but don't let it get higher. Look," he points at a small medical bulb with his index finger, "that's a morphine pump, just squeeze it once and let the magic work. Trust me, it's terribly efficient. It will make you a bit dizzy but it'll be worth it." As to illustrate his point, Ivar squeezes the pump and he can see the relief washing over his brother's face almost instantly as the pain goes numb.

 "I spoke with the doctor who did the surgery this morning. Did you?" Ivar's brother asks, a frown on his face and biting his lower lip.

 "I did." Ivar answers without saying anything more. An uneasy silence settles in, eventually broken by Ivar's brother‘s shaky voice. "So, you know there's a chance…" His words catch in his throat and he swallows loudly. "What if…" Overcome with anxiety, he's unable to say more.

 "Hey, stop that, brother!" Ivar almost scolds him."You will walk again. It may be hard, but you'll get there. For now, you should be thankful for being alive. You know what they say… Where there's life, there's hope. So please, stay positive and fucking look at me if you need to. I was able to walk, so I'm pretty sure you can too."

 Ivar's brother looks at him for a long time, a puzzled look on his face. "Karma is a bitch, isn't it?" He eventually says sheepishly, a sad smile crossing his lips. "You can say it, I won't get mad, you know? I probably deserve this, after all I did…" He sighs, lowering his gaze, but Ivar doesn't allow it, raising his brother's head with a finger on his chin. 

 "Listen carefully, brother. No one deserves to suffer. Neither you nor anyone else. Karma has nothing to do with what happened to you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, nothing more. The truck driver was sleep-deprived and didn't see the red light. It sucks, I get it, but it was just bad luck that you were at this crossroad at the same time that he was."

 Ivar's brother just nods lightly, and then yawns, rubbing his eyes. "You should rest, brother. I'll be back soon." Ivar grabs his crutch but his brother wraps his hand around his wrist. 

 "Wait… You told me why you were here but there's one thing I don't understand. Why are you the one here? Where are our–" He stops as another yawn cuts him off.

 Ivar, however, understands his unfinished question. "Last time I heard from our dear brothers, they were going on a business trip to Cancun. Seeing as it is the beginning of Spring Break in the US, I'm pretty sure calling it a fuck trip would be more accurate. It also means that you're stuck with me for a couple of weeks. Sorry about that." Tilting his head, Ivar gives his brother a semi-amused look. "Anyway, now, you're going to rest,” Ivar strokes his brother's hair with unexpected gentleness, "and in the meantime I'm going to make arrangements for your future."

 "What… what does that mean?" Ivar's brother babbles, the drug-induced dizziness hitting him with full force.

 "It means that as soon as you'll be discharged, you'll be moving in with me." Ivar says casually, shrugging, as he heads towards the door.

 "Moving in with… you? But… why?" The questioning tone of his brother is obvious and Ivar turns back to look at him. "It was either this, or the rehab center. Trust me, you'll be better taken care of with me. My apartment is fully accessible, I've got a real PT room and Sven, my longtime PT, is the best in all of Scandinavia. You'll also probably need an OT, and it happens that I know the best OT too. Flora is her name, she helped me a lot a few years ago. So yeah, you will be in good hands, I promise. As good as Doctor Mikelsson's hands."

 Confused, Ivar's brother looks at him questioningly.  "Doctor Mikelsson is… your…" Obviously befuddled, his speech is now slurred and he can't find the right word.

 "My surgeon, yes,” Ivar completes the sentence. "Has been for the last twelve years. That's why I had you transferred here, in this clinic."

 Dumbfounded, Ivar's brother stares wide-eyed. "I don't… I didn't rela… realize I've been transf… transferred. And that… that was…"

 "At my request, yes." Ivar nods. "Because the Doc is more than a surgeon. He's a magician. He truly can work wonders. Me standing and walking is enough to prove it." Raising his head proudly, Ivar smiles at his brother reassuringly. 

 "Why… why did… you do… this for… me?" Ivar's brother sputters, exhaustion written all over his face. Yet, he fights it, his curiosity prevailing above all else. 

 Ivar shrugs once again, giving his brother an airy wave of his hand as to let him know that what he's doing is no big deal. "I know your pain, brother. I know the struggles you'll be facing. You have a long road ahead and I know how scary it might be. You won't be alone. I won't allow it. We'll get through this together, because no one should have to deal with such things alone." Ivar almost hiccups, his heart is suddenly in his throat as a wave of painful childhood memories floods his mind. He pushes them away, gritting his teeth, because now is not the time. Focusing once more on the blond in front of him, he speaks again, in a firm tone. "So, brother, you won't be. Never. I will be right next to you at every step, literally. We'll make our own version of 'the blind leading the blind', you know?" Ivar scratches the back of his neck, a half-smile on his lips, before taking a deep breath. "And you may be an asshole most of the time, but you're still my brother. That's why I do it. It's as simple as that. Sleep now, we'll talk later."

 Hand on the doorknob, Ivar hears a faint whimper. Looking backwards, he's surprised as he sees a single tear running down his brother's cheek. "Thank you, Ivar." His brother says with a trembling voice, clearly shaken up by Ivar's words.

 Ivar gives his brother a genuine smile, suddenly struck by the thougth that it's probably the first genuine smile he's given his brother in years. "You're welcome, Sig," he says sincerely as he has to blink back his own tears, an unfamiliar but warm feeling in his chest, "Sleep now, I'll be back soon. I promise."

 🛡💖🛡

@maggiescarborough​ @honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

Excuse me what.

Maeda, you fucking owe me Ohagi for this pervert writing. This really looks like some ecchi shits going on. But we all know that Sanemi is also drunk on that respect women juice.

As you can see or know, there are no bras used by women in Taishou Era unless those who live in big city like Tokyo (after Western influences). They used some sort of bandages to cover their breast.

You know what's coming.

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Pillar! s/o (NSFWish Warning: Explicit words)

After some incident, you are injured and Sanemi brought you to small village for temporary treatments. He couldn't reach out Kakushi because your crows and Sanemi's are both injured.

Like always, when you woke up, Sanemi will scold you with loud voice and the person who treat you, were too afraid to make him calm down.

"Sanemi, lower your voice. It's not just us here."

Both of you planned to leave in the morning, considering the demons were hiding and it's great opportunity to take a breath.

"It's a new type demon which attacked you yesterday. We had to go back to headquarters as fast as we can and report this to Oyakata-sama."

"You could leave me, I'll catch up."

"No. I won't. Beside, you are the one who recklessly encountered that demon. You should be the one who report it to Oyakata-sama."

Sanemi, the thick bull-headed, will never say that he didn't want to leave because the male villagers were eyeing on you.

When you got better, you asked about your swords and uniform.

Your sword was fine but your uniform is another story. It torn up and was really in havoc. You saw it with your own eyes. With all of these shreds on your uniform and the pants, it's miracle you still alive until now. You couldn't distinguish between mere fabrics or Demon Slayer Uniform.

Which is really bad.

This village was poor. You wanted to buy their clothes, and that's the problem. The women here only have one or two kimono at the moment. But luckily, there was one girl who let you buy her kimono. It's pink and not really in good shape but at least you could wear it. Of course, you willingly to pay her.

"What you are talking about? Buying their kimono? How did you defend yourself from the demons' scratches?" Sanemi scoffed. He pulled something from his bag. "I got one spare."

"You do? Is it yours?"

"No, Maeda gave me. I don't know why but that woman just shoved this too me. 'In emergency case for (y/n)', she said."

"But still, I need kimono to disguise myself. We are going to across the town. My haori was ripped too."

The morning comes, and you get ready for your trip back to headquarters. You started with your clothings. You wrapped around the bandages, covering your breast.

Sansmi already gave you the uniform, so you just grabbed it out from the table, and started to wear it.

"...it's not pants? This is a skirt?" You frowned. "Whatever."

Sanemi was waiting outside the room, crossing his arms while sitting on the engawa.

"Hey, are you done?!" He shouted to you, impatient.

"Wait a minute."

You maybe sounded calm but you literally sweating over the uniform you wear.

The skirt was short. It's not even reaching under knees, and only covered half of your thighs. But more importantly,

"Hmmnngghhh!!!"

You tried your best to button your upper front uniform. You held your breath, deflated your chest. You pulled the button, and reached the hole on the other side.

But you make it worst. The button snapped from its place and fell down onto the floor. Your peevish head became angry and tried with another buttons.

Until there are no buttons left. It all fell down and you just stared at them in defeat.

For fuck sake, (y/n), you're so fucking dumb

"IT'S USELESS!!" You stood with your knees and palm, feeling super tired from just an attempt to button your front. How should I cover my chest when the battle start?! Maeda you siiiiiick!! If you really wanted to help me, then at least make the bigger size. I'm not Sanemi or Mitsuri!!

"Hey, what are you complaining about?! If you didn't out in 1 minute, I'll leave you!"

"Wa- Wait! Aaah..." There are no time left to fix the buttons, so you just let it be showing your bandaged cleavage and wear your kimono as double.

It's actually worst than Mitsuri. Mitsuri's still buttoned her highest and lowest part of the uniform. But you? All of the buttons didn't compromise to your luck today. It showed more skins than you thought.

Maeda, curse you.

You opened the door. Sanemi was so mad the irk mark on his forehead appeared.

"I- I'm sorry. Hahaha...." You felt so uncomfortable under your kimono, but you did your best to hid it.

"Tsk. Nevermind. Come on, we're losing time."

You leave the village along with Sanemi. Your crows resting on your shoulder. You patted its little head.

Of course, it didn't always go well like you predicted.

When night comes, the same type of that demon attacking both of you again. You still put your kimono on. It limited your movements.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY DID YOU KEEP YOUR KIMONO?!" Sanemi shouted towards you, still busy dodging the attacks.

'I will just being a burden if-'

You gripped your sword, panicking. Should I? Should I put out my kimono?

"AAAHHHH SCREW IT!!" You put off your kimono, throwing it out to nowhere.

He stopped for a moment, mouth opened.

The demon slapped him out, make him flew away and hit the tree.

"Wha- WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR UNIFORM?!" He screamed.

"Huh?!!! I don't know, it didn't fit to me!!"

You finally revealed your front-opened button bandaged cleavage, and your short skirt. You kept your distance while shouting 'Quick, it will attack again!' to Sanemi.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! THE FRONT BUTTON?!" He propped his feet on the ground.

"I broke them all!!" You spinned around, almost got clawed but it managed to reach your bandage.

It ripped out.

Ah shit, here we go again.

"I HATE THIS AAHHHH!!!" You screamed in embarrassment, starting to think that this demon is a pervert.

Sanemi tried to not too distracted by your chest, attacking from the other direction. But he can't, he simply can't.

"THE ENEMY IS IN FRONT OF YOU SANEMI, NOT ON MY CHEST!"

"SHIT, I KNOW!"

You crunched your knees to the ground, making brake motion so your body wasn't bounce back.

But that's not the only who visibly bouncing right now.

"Sanemi, we should destroy the middle core first." You panted. He couldn't focus, he couldn't focus at all while looking at your bare breast, making up down motion. "Hey, Sanemi!!"

"FUCK!" He jumped first. "Cover your chest!"

"Wait, it doesn't have to do with my chest?!"

He didn't know what to do anymore, it was like BOOM. His mind couldn't be clear, he can't concentrate on his next move.

The demon was easily swinging its claw and spinning its hand around. It resulted with Sanemi injured on his forehead while you got crossed wounds on your chest.

"(y/n)!!!"

"Don't mind me!!" You landed on the tree, panted for a while before jumped again towards that demon.

"Breath of Wind, second form!"

"Third form!" It finally worked out, it's finally annihilated.

You huffed, gasped for more air. You put your hand on your chest, fresh blood from the cuts was flowing out.

"It seems that the injury wasn't that deep." Sanemi approached you. He wiped the red liquid on his temple carelessly. "Why don't you say that the uniform didn't fit for you?"

"We're in hurry, remember?"

"So, you walked around the town... With that."

"Look, I don't want this, but I have no choice, okay? Besides- Ow."

The sharp pain came again, you held your wounded chest.

"Nevermind that, come here. I'll stop the bleeding."

He found an abandoned post in that forest. Ordering you to sit down, he started to prepare the emergency treatment.

It's not just a mere flush, his face was burning when he sutured your breasts. Focus, Sanemi, you're the one who offering her help, are you?

"What are you blushing at? We've done 'that' for many-"

"Shut up! It's different!"

Well, it's actually embarrassing though, you bite your lips, averting your eyes to somewhere else.

"Nnh..."

"Hey, don't let out weird sound."

"It hurts..."

"Hold it." He tried, tried so hard to keep focusing on your wounds. His heart throbbed, it was like asking him to let it out from his ribcage.

He had to admit that you looked enthralling in this shape, torn uniform, some scars on your skins that never make him bothered, you shivering under his gentle touch while trying to maintain your preposition.

It's all perfect that he had to hush his bulge under his pants to calm down.

"Done." He stood up. You opened your eyes, letting out relieved breathe. "Could you walk? Or should we stay here for awhile? If it's still hurt, I could bring you to Butterfly Estate."

"No, you're injured too. Let's rest here together."

It's your turn to take care of his wounds. He sat down on the wooden board. Your knees propped you up, making creak sound on that board. You kneeled in front of him, wiping the blood out of his temple. You disentangled the bandage on your hand, starting to wrapped his injuries on the head.

Didn't realize that Sanemi kept staring on your chest, really close to his face. Your breast was jiggling lightly, following your movements while busy bandaging him.

Hold it, hold it, Sanemi. Not now.

His half-lidded eyes were hazy. Unconsciously, he moved his head towards, kissing your wounded chest.

You jolted a bit and looked down, the sting pain and his soft lips were mixed on your skin, making tingling sensation.

"Sa- Sanemi? Ow..."

"You're lucky that it's not poisoned." He hugged your under breast, still kissing your tender skin lightly.

"I- I guess." You made ribbon shape like on his head, pushed him slowly with your hands on his shoulder. "I- I think we should inform the Kakushi, about... The uniform and maybe better treatments. My crow has healed and could fly again."

"Right." You send message thorough your crow and after some flapping test, your crow flew away from your place.

Sanemi put his haori and uniform off, he's only wearing the white shirt now.

"Get some rest." You nodded, laying down and sleep sideways. He covered your with his uniform and your lower part with his haori. "I'll guard this area."

"With this thin clothes, you'll get cold." You pulled his shirt, shyly. "Would you mind sharing?"

"What sharing?"

You guided his hand, made him sleeping beside you. You lifted his uniform and covering both of you.

"Now, this is fair." You hide under his chin, putting your face in front of his chest. "We could share warmth together."

"I didn't mean to sleep. Who will prot- "

"Morning will come soon anyway. Just 1 hour rest."

"Argh, fine!" He pushed your back head, bringing him closer to his chest. He put his chin under your head, hiding his red flush because he could feel your breast against his bare chest.

Both of you eventually fell asleep while hugging each otherz with legs slipped into each other.

"Hey, wake up." After some time, he slowly shook your body. You rubbed your eyes and propped your weight with your elbow. "Here's the new change."

"Hm? Where did you get this?"

"Maeda came here."

"She did? Where is-"

"Yeah. Don't worry about her. Now, change. Quick."

"O-Okay." You started to put off your rotten uniform in front of him.

"You even didn't mind to say 'Turned around.' to me." He said that but still not averted his eyes off from your slow movements.

"Why? You always saw me naked after all."

"Ugh, just change."

No matter how many times he looked at it, that gorgeous body of yours will be always be his weakness.

Omake:

"Guys, did you see Maeda?"

"No."

"Nope."

"I wonder where is- wait, who is that floating on the river."