#as for the prompt i like that there are so many possibilities (more than usual i feel)

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 326

Adjective: Dysfunctional

Noun: Elixir

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Dysfunctional: not operating normally or properly; deviating from the norms of social behavior in a way regarded as bad

Elixir: a magical or medicinal potion; a preparation supposedly able to change metals into gold, sought by alchemists; a particular type of medicinal solution

[teine-mallaichte]

Let's talk hallucinations in whump/general fiction.

So first off full disclosure, I have schizoaffective disorder - think some bits of bipolar and some bits of schizophrenia kind of squished together, and as such hallucinations are a BIG part of my general existence.

Definition: A hallucination is a perception of a sensory experience—such as sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch—that appears real but is created by the mind and lacks an external stimulus.

Now, I see a fair few "hallucinations" type prompts in whump events, and just generally within the whump community, and I see a LOT of auditory hallucinations type prompt fills - mainly in the form of malevolent whispers - and ye that's a thing, but there are so many other hallucinations.

The thing is hallucinations can effect literally any sense, not just hearing - though I will add that auditory is usually regarded as the most common.

this is a long post so I am going to put a cut here... below the cut is exploration of the tyoes of hallucination, the causes and a bit about insight.

So, I thought it could be "fun" to explore a few in a post. Lets explore the 5 "main" senses first:

Auditory Hallucinations

Description: These are the most common type of hallucinations. They involve hearing sounds that are not present. The sounds are hear as if they are coming from somewhere external to the body. So in my case I have a few of these, but my main one is a voice who is with me even when I am in meds (another good point there for anyone who wants to use mental illness in their fics even in meds we can do have symptoms). This voice has a name and most of the time he just sorts off passes comments about things and people around me, like a sarcastic narrator and it sounds like he is standing just behind me.

Common Examples:

Malevolent Whispers: Insidious voices that might threaten, taunt, or belittle you.

Hearing Music: Melodies or songs playing that no one else can hear. For me this kind of sounds like someone is playing a radio in a different room.

Environmental Sounds: Hearing footsteps, doors creaking, or other sounds suggesting someone else is present.

Command Hallucinations: Voices that instruct or suggest (its not always ademand, sometimes more subtle and manipulative) you to do certain things, often with a compelling and distressing sense of urgency.

Less used examples:

Kind/supportive hallucinations: Voices that are encouraging, reassuring and supportive.

Distortion: Rather than sounds with no origin hallucinations that disort or warp actual sounds/voices changing the meaning, making it as if the TV or Radio is addressing you personally, making it sound as if a friend is threatening you.

Fun fact: it actually is possible to have a two way (sort of) conversation with a hallucination - I know I do it relatively often. It will be different for everyone, but fo me its a bit like having a conversation on a bad phoneline, yes the voice will respond but often its almost as if he hasn't fully heard what I said - or is ignoring key points. I can do this both outloud and "in my head".

Visual Hallucinations

Description: Visual hallucinations involve seeing things that are not present. These can range from simple shapes and flashes of light to detailed images or scenes. They often appear as if they are in the physical world and can be very convincing.

Common Examples:

Shadowy Figures: Seeing indistinct, shadowy forms that may move or appear to watch the character.

Distorted Faces: Perceiving familiar faces as grotesque or altered in frightening ways.

Apparitions: Full-bodied figures that may interact with the character or appear menacing.

Lights/sparkles: The whump community seems to very much enjoy lights and sparkles, especially in drugging.

Less Used Examples:

Intrusive Visuals: Images of disturbing or graphic nature that suddenly appear in your line of sight.

Perceptual Distortions: Objects appearing to warp, change shape, or color in unnatural ways.

Double Vision: Seeing multiples of objects or people, creating a confusing and disorienting experience.

Scenery Shifts: The entire environment changes, making you believe they are in a completely different place.

Fun fact: Sleep deprivation can cause some wild visual hallucinations, even relatively "mild" sleep deprivation can start to effect a persons perceptions.

Gustatory Hallucinations

Description: Gustatory hallucinations involve tasting things that are not actually present in the mouth. These can range from pleasant to extremely unpleasant tastes and can be triggered without any external food or drink.

Officially these are considered "rare", but personally (as someone who has done a lot of peer support work in the psychosis/voice hearing community I think they are simply under reported.)

Common Examples:

Bitter or Metallic Taste: A persistent bitter or metallic taste in the mouth, often leading to a sense of unease or concern about poisoning.

Sweet or Sour Taste: Tasting something sweet or sour unexpectedly, which can be confusing if it doesn’t match the current context.

Less Used Examples:

Spoiled Food: Tasting something rancid or spoiled, causing nausea and distress.

Unfamiliar Tastes: Tasting something completely unfamiliar and hard to describe, adding to the character's sense of disorientation.

Mimicking Actual Foods: Tasting specific foods that trigger cravings or aversions, despite not eating anything.

Transforming food: Food tasting like other food - I know someone for whom everything tasted like strawberries for days.

Common Causes: Neurological conditions or can be a side effect of medications.

Olfactory Hallucinations

Description: Olfactory hallucinations involve smelling odors that are not actually present. These can be pleasant or unpleasant and occur without any corresponding external stimulus. They can be particularly disorienting because they may trigger memories or emotions associated with certain scents - extremely complex if the person also has PTSD.

Common Examples:

Burning Smell: Wood, rubber, or food, which can lead to panic and fear of a fire.

Rotting Flesh: An overpowering smell of decay or rotting flesh, causing distress and nausea.

Perfume or Flowers: Smelling strong scents like flowers or perfume - hallucinations don't have to be inherently unpleasant sensations.

Less Used Examples:

Chemical Smells: Smelling chemicals like bleach or petrol.

Unfamiliar Scents: Smelling odors that you cannot identify.

Food Smells: Smelling specific foods that trigger hunger or nausea, despite the absence of any actual food.

Tactile Hallucinations

Description: Tactile hallucinations involve feeling sensations on or under the skin that are not actually there. These can range from mild tingling to severe pain and can be extremely distressing.

Common Examples:

Crawling Sensation: Feeling as though insects or bugs are crawling on or under the skin - often leading to frantic scratching or picking.

Electric Shocks: Experiencing sudden, sharp, electric-like jolts.

Pressure: Feeling pressure or tightness around certain body parts, such as a hand gripping the arm or something heavy on the chest.

Less Used Examples:

Temperature Changes: Feeling extreme cold or heat on the skin without any external cause.

Wetness or Dripping: Feeling as though liquid is dripping or running down the skin, even when dry.

Phantom Touches: Sensations of being touched or grabbed, often when alone. Sometimes its an almost feather like touch, other times its more akin to a grab that if reak would leave a bruise.

Right now let's expand - because there are more than 5 senses.

Proprioceptive Hallucinations

Description: Proprioception is the sense of the relative positioning of one's body parts. Proprioceptive hallucinations involve distorted perceptions of where your body is in space or how it is moving.

Common Examples:

Floating Sensation: Feeling as if the body is levitating or moving without control.

Distorted Body Size: Perceiving limbs or the entire body as being unnaturally large or small.

Less Used Examples:

Misaligned Limbs: Feeling as though limbs are twisted or out of place.

Movement Hallucinations: Sensing movements that aren't occurring, like swaying or rotating.

Common causes: Neurological disorders or the effects of certain drugs, but can by caused by a huge array of things.

Vestibular Hallucinations

Description: Vestibular sensations involve balance and spatial orientation. Vestibular hallucinations affect your sense of balance, making you feel dizzy or as though you're moving when you're stationary.

Common Examples:

Vertigo: A spinning sensation, as if the environment or oneself is rotating.

Imbalance: Feeling as though you're about to fall over or can't maintain your balance.

Less Used Examples:

Motion Sensation: Sensing movement, like rocking or swaying, when you're still.

Gravity Distortions: Feeling as if gravity is stronger or weaker than it actually is.

Common caused: Inner ear issues, migraines, or anxiety.

Temporal Hallucinations

Description: Temporal hallucinations involve distorted perceptions of time. They can make time feel like it's speeding up, slowing down, or standing still.

Common Examples:

Time Dilation: Feeling as though time is passing much slower than it actually is.

Time Compression: Perceiving time as moving rapidly, making events feel like they're passing in a blur.

Less Used Examples:

Frozen Moments: Experiencing time as if it's stopped, with everything around you appearing frozen.

Temporal Displacement: Feeling as though you're living in a different time period.

Temporal Dissonance: Feeling as if time is moving differently for you in comparison to those around you.

Common caused: Extreme fatigue, high stress, or under the influence of certain drugs.

Interoceptive Hallucinations

Description: Interoception refers to the perception of sensations from within the body, such as hunger, thirst, or the feeling of a heartbeat. Hallucinations in this realm involve feeling internal sensations that aren't actually occurring.

Common Examples:

False Hunger: Feeling extremely hungry despite having eaten recently.

Nonexistent Thirst: An intense sense of thirst even when well-hydrated - I have had this one a few times and given myself electrolyte imbalances due tot he amount of water I ended up drinking (not fun).

Less Used Examples:

Phantom Heartbeats: Feeling the heart racing or skipping beats without any physical basis.

Digestive Sensations: Sensations of digestion, such as gurgling or bloating, without any real cause.

Common causes: Panic disorder or certain types of seizures.

Right, now lets quickly review the main "causes" of hallucinations

Mental Illness:

Schizophrenia: Can involve basically anything from this list, but anecdotally auditory and visual appear to be the most common.

Bipolar Disorder: Can include hallucinations, especially during manic or depressive episodes.

Schizoaffective Disorder: A combination of symptoms from both schizophrenia and mood disorders, often leading to a variety of hallucinations.

EUPD/BPD: Auditory hallucinations are relatively common.

In all of these the hallucinations will rarely (if ever) exist in isolation. If you do not have primary or secondary experience of mental illness then I would recommend doing a LOT of research - and talking to people who do (on this note my asks are open if anyone has any schizoaffective based questions).

Neurological Conditions:

Epilepsy: Particularly temporal lobe epilepsy, can cause a range of sensory hallucinations.

Parkinson's Disease: Can lead to visual and auditory hallucinations.

Migraine: Migraine auras can include visual and auditory hallucinations.

Once again the hallucinations will not be in isolatation so same advice as with mental illness.

Substance Use and Withdrawal:

Psychedelics: Drugs like LSD, psilocybin, and mescaline are known for causing vivid visual and auditory hallucinations.

Stimulants: Methamphetamine and cocaine can cause tactile and visual hallucinations.

Alcohol Withdrawal: Can lead to visual, auditory, and tactile hallucinations.

You know what I am going to say that my "if you do not have experience of this then go talk to someone who does" advice may just stand for every potential cause.

Sleep Disorders:

Sleep Deprivation: Can cause a variety of hallucinations across different senses.

Narcolepsy: Often includes hypnagogic (while falling asleep) and hypnopompic (while waking up) hallucinations.

Medical Conditions:

Delirium: Acute confusion and hallucinations often seen in severe infections, fever, or after surgery.

Dementia: Especially Lewy body dementia and Alzheimer's disease, can cause hallucinations.

Medications:

Anticholinergics: Can cause hallucinations as a side effect.

Steroids: High doses can sometimes lead to hallucinations.

Certain Antidepressants and Antipsychotics: Occasionally, these medications can cause hallucinations.

Psychological Stress and Trauma:

PTSD: Flashbacks and hallucinations related to traumatic events.

Extreme Stress: Can sometimes trigger hallucinations.

Metabolic and Endocrine Disorders:

Thyroid Disorders: Hyperthyroidism or hypothyroidism can sometimes cause hallucinations.

Electrolyte Imbalances: Severe imbalances can lead to hallucinations.

Deprivation:

Sensory Deprivation: Go google the ganzfeld effect, it's facinating.

Isolation: Extended periods of isolation can lead to hallucinations, known as sensory deprivation hallucinations.

Autoimmune Disorders:

Lupus: Can cause neurological symptoms including hallucinations.

Tumors:

Brain Tumors: Depending on their location, they can cause hallucinations affecting different senses.

Ok, finally point for this post. Let's discuss insight, because it is not as black/white or binary as people seem to assume.

Definition: Insight, in this context, refers to the awareness and understanding that one's hallucinations are not real but are a product of their mind. Insight can be partial or complete, and it often fluctuates.

Complete Insight:

Description: The individual fully understands that their hallucinations are not real and are caused by an underlying condition.

Impact: This can help the person manage their symptoms more effectively and seek appropriate treatment. However, it doesn't necessarily lessen the distress caused by the hallucinations.

Partial Insight:

Description: The individual has some awareness that their hallucinations might not be real but can still struggle with differentiating them from reality.

Impact: This can lead to confusion and anxiety, as the person oscillates between believing and doubting their experiences.

Lack of Insight:

Description: The individual firmly believes that their hallucinations are real and external.

Impact: This can lead to significant distress and functional impairment, as the person might respond to these hallucinations as if they were real.

Now imagine these three points on a scale from 0 (complete insight) to 10 (lack of insight) a person can be anywhere on this scale, and can slide back and fourth along it.

Factors such as stress, fatigue, medication changes, or daily fluctuations in mental state can cause insight to vary. A person might have high insight at one moment and low insight the next.

Basically Insight Is Not Static.

Also sometimes insight is just FREAKING RANDOM fluctuation for no discernible reason - honestly at times there is zero logic.

so ye, halluncinations… the brain is freaking wild.

Disclaimer - this is by no means an exhaustive list and like with many things every individual will experience these things slightly differently.

A similar post about delirium A similar post about fever

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Mafia!Price

No Content Warnings

There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.

He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.

You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.

Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.

“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”

You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.

“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”

He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.

Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.

Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.

“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”

Will need to call later today — as if!

“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.

He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.

“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.

You blink. Are you what?

“Tomorrow, sir?”

He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”

When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.

“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”

You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.

“I do now.”

Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.

“Of course you’re coming along.”

“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”

“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”

“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”

“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”

You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.

“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”

“‘Fancy man party’?”

“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.

“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”

You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.

“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”

You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.

“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”

“Sounds great, luv.”

You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”

He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”

—

Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.

“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”

He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.

He snorts. “My job happened.”

You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”

You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.

He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.

“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”

He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.

The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.

“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”

You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”

But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.

It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.

You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.

“Sir?” you call.

“In here, luv.”

You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.

“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.

You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.

It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.

“E-evening, sir.”

He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”

You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.

“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”

You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.

“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.

“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”

They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.

“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”

They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.

“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.

“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.

Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.

“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.

“The silver and diamond.”

You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”

A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”

You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.

“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”

You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”

“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.

You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”

He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.

“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.

You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.

“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”

You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.

“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.

Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”

He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.

“That bad, eh?”

“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.

“Gift from an ex,” he explains.

You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.

“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.

He snorts. “Maybe.”

You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.

“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.

“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.

You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.

You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.

Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.

“Pass inspection?” He asks.

“Barely,” you tease.

His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.

“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”

“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.

You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.

“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.

“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”

You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”

Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.

Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.

“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”

You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.

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[cordeliawhohung]

uhm enjoy this totally self indulgent hurt/comfort pornstar!gaz x reader where you fake an orgasm on set (:

Two hours isn’t an uncommon amount of time for a shoot. Even for the most experienced of actors, there are plenty of position changes, water breaks, and directions to be given that always bogs down film time in some capacity. You’re used to it. You’d been in that industry for years, so you know how to pass the time, especially when filming with Kyle. He always knows how to make you laugh, how to strike up a conversation as lights and camera angles are adjusted — it’s always nice with him. 

But something is different about today. It feels painfully long, like you’ve spent a majority of your day there rather than just a handful of hours. You’re more quiet than usual, and when Kyle attempts to strike up a conversation, your responses are just as empty as your eyes. A terrible glossiness has taken over their usual beautiful sheen, yet you still push through in all the obnoxious angles the director has you contort into in order to give the viewers the best visual possible. 

Kyle notices almost immediately. There’s something empty and numb in the way your body reacts to his touches. Your pretty moans sound dull when he pumps two thick fingers into you, and your brows don’t pinch together when he whispers in your ear. When he sinks his cock into your cunt after an overly drawn out foreplay period, you don’t flutter around him like you normally do. All your little tells — those delicious tells — have suddenly vanished off the face of the earth, leaving the studio feeling empty as he ruts into you. 

Really, you’re just glad your face is in the mattress while Kyle fucks you, because you don’t think you could look him in the eyes. Not when you’re feeling like that. It’s as if some void has taken up the space in your chest just for something rotten and vile to fester in the darkness. Nothing feels good. It doesn’t feel bad either, it’s just so far out of your reach you don’t even bother trying to chase it. 

You’re so… tired. Tired of filming, of being there in that fucking studio as people peer at you from behind cinema cameras and lights so bright you’re all but promised a migraine later. You just want it to be over; to go home and sleep until whatever that darkness is finally passes, so you do the unthinkable. 

You’ve never had to fake an orgasm with Kyle before. He always takes such good care of you, always is so attentive and in tune with your needs and desires, but you’ve done it so many times before with other actors that it’s easy. It’s easy to wrench your eyes shut as you force your thighs to tremble, and you moan and groan like a pathetic bitch in heat just how you know the viewers like. What makes it difficult is that Kyle’s pace slows, as if trying to gently fuck you through the orgasm that was never even on the crux of arriving. 

The moment he pulls out and tells the director he’s done for the day, you know you’ve fucked up. 

“Huh?” the director asks as if baffled. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” Kyle repeats. 

“We’ve got Viagra on hand if you need it,” the director says, trying to convince him to go longer. 

“I said that’s enough.” 

You bury your face further into the fresh linens at Kyle’s biting tone. You’ve never heard him sound so stern before; not the playful and teasing Kyle Garrick. It was enough to get the director to give in, and you hear a symphony of sighs echo throughout the room as everyone starts to tear the set down. Though all you wanted to do was go home, you couldn’t bring yourself out of the sheets. Maybe you didn’t really want to go home at all; just melt into the bed until there was nothing of you left. 

Plush fabric brushes against your back, causing you to jolt. Kyle smooths your robe over your body as he gently urges you to sit up so you can get your arms through the sleeves. 

“C’mon,” he quietly prompts, “let’s get cleaned up.” 

Once you are both properly wrapped in your robes, Kyle keeps an arm snug around your waist as he leads you into your dressing room. Usually the two of you go your separate ways once the cameras stop rolling, but he doesn’t this time. He closes and locks the door behind both of you as you mindlessly wander towards the counter. Pressure begins to build behind your eyes as white hot shame boils in your stomach, climbing up your chest and into your face. 

Kyle lets you run away for only a short moment before he’s crossing the distance between the door and the counter, hands ready to mend whatever is broken. You want to retract, to continue to hide away instead of facing the beast eating you from the inside out, but your fortitude breaks the moment his hands reach your shoulders. 

“Doll,” he says, voice so soft it’s as if he fears he’ll shatter you with words alone. “Where’s your head at?” 

You refuse to look at him, and instead your eyes keep glued to his chest as you keep your head lowered. The biting sting of tears builds in your eyes just as your bottom lip begins to tremble. It’s impossible to articulate the way bile eats at your esophagus just at the thought of trying to spill your guts to anyone, let alone Kyle. You try in vain to keep a straight face, but your sniffling has already given you away. 

“You know you don’t have to fake it with me, yeah? If you’re not into it, we can always stop,” Kyle then says. 

Wide eyes suddenly pierce through Kyle’s face as you look up at him, bewildered. “You could tell?” you ask as your voice cracks. 

It’s difficult for him to find the words to explain how familiar your body is to him. How he has every inch of it ingrained in his mind as if it had never been separate from him at all. Yet you give him no time to even think before your hands are pawing at your eyes as you try and wipe away your tears. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything feels so off, but everyone was already getting set up and I just- I don’t know,” you ramble. 

“Hey, hey,” Kyle shushes. His hands glide from your shoulders to your cheeks where he holds your head in place, forcing you to look at him. His touch is almost as warm as his eyes are as he studies your face, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he continues. “You don’t have to explain anythin’ to me. We all have those days. Just… promise me next time you’ll talk to me. I don’t wanna fuck you if you’re not into it.” 

His words destroy you in a way nothing else has, and it’s enough to really get the waterworks running. Despite it all, his gaze is soft as his thumbs brush your cheeks, and you begin to melt into him as your hands reach for his chest for stability. 

“I promise. I’m sorry, I promise,” you sob. 

Kyle cradles the back of your head as he holds you in the tightest embrace you’ve ever received. The soft fabric of his robe soaks up your tears as your body rattles with each cry that escapes. Soft kisses press against the crown of your head as he holds you together, refusing to let you crumble. 

He doesn’t pull away until you do, and you wipe at your wet face. Crying doesn’t make you feel any better than you thought it would, and if anything it leaves you feeling emptier than before. But Kyle doesn’t give up on you. It isn’t long before the dressing room fills with steam from the running shower and he’s leading you in there with your hand in his. 

Hot water washes over your body while Kyle scrubs you clean. There’s something holy about the way his hands glide over your skin, as if he’s cleaning you from the inside out. Neither of you say a word, you just stand there and let him work at you until your muscles loosen and you’re so tired you’re certain you’ll fall asleep on your feet. 

Kyle guides your heavy head up to look at him, and you watch his eyes take in the sight of your tired lids. Concern is still etched deep into his features even as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. Gears begin to visibly turn in his mind, and you feel your chest expand with something warm. His mouth twitches before it lands on yours, stealing you away with a kiss. There’s something different about this kiss. It’s leagues different from the ones he normally gives you on set; the primal, messy kiss where his tongue slips into your mouth as if he’s trying to devour you. 

No, there is something different in the softness of it all. How he’s not trying to devour you as much as he is trying to know you. When his lips break away from yours just to dive back in for more, you nearly confuse it for love. You’re not sure what it is, or what it’s supposed to be; all you know is that it leaves you feeling a little less empty and only wanting more. 

[guardianofnightmares]

Sunrise

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

----------

Alright, fellas, next entry to the @blitzbee-week event is finally here)). The prompt of the second day was "Sunrise" and I decided to go more figuratively with it rather then depicting a literal "appearance of the sky" at a particular part of a day. As you can guess by a provided description, Bee basically becomes a "leading star" for a brooding Blitzwing, who, as it seems, is not that thrilled by discovery of his partner.

Just as a previous entry to a mentioned event, this picture is dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". Here's a [link] for the series "folder" which also includes an existing teaser (future prologue) for a story if anyone wants to give it a try. Again, can not thank you enough for all the support you've shown for it so far, I will try my best to come up with updates soon enough.

As it usually goes with such works of mine, I will provide the full snippet of one of chapters, which a depicted scene is taken from, under a cut line for anyone wishing to read more about the scene. Hope you'll enjoy it)

To the surprise of many comrades he’d worked with, the Triplechanger proved to be the most patient mech on a team when it came to long lasting missions. Usually he didn’t find it difficult to lay low and wait for orders to come, even if it meant to stay idle for several solar cycles. It was a useful trait of character which Decepticon rightfully prided himself of. 

Yet, even a seemingly boundless patience had its limits. 

“Can you see anything of use out there?” Blitzwing finally asked his unfortunate “partner in crime”.

A brightly colored mech slipped on the spot upon hearing Con’s voice but managed to regain his balance. 

“Not yet, Blitzwing, give me a klik!” A minibot shouted over his shoulder, holding on the steel bar for dear life. “Climbing is not as easy as I’m surely making it look in your optics.”

If Bumblebee planed to cheer up a Warframe with such a comment, he failed miserably, for it only seemed to sour up an already bad mood of a tall mech. 

To a Decepticon, it felt like forever since the minibot began his ascend up a steep scarp of a crumbled wall. One would think that, thanks to his light frame, he’d manage to reach the top level in no time. But even this uneven terrain, made of torn sheets of metal and broken cables, proved to be a challenge to an agile Autobot. 

The damned energy chain, which linked limbs of both mechs to each other, clearly was the greatest obstacle for Bumblebee, barely giving him a chance to move as far away from a somber mech as possible. Not to mention that a Decepticon was forced to stand on one pede in order to accommodate his companion’s slow conquest of new heights. 

Admittedly, a Triplechanger considered an option of tearing the bug’s pede he’s bound to off. But that type of cuffs always latched onto anything in their vicinity (while being activated). Meaning, the chances of getting tied to a nearby wall, as a result of said actions, reached more than 90%. 

Tearing his own pede off was not part of a Warframe’s plans. 

“If you haven’t noticed it yet, Bumblebee Prime, we don’t have plenty of time left to hide in these tunnels,” A “former” convict grumbled in response while surveying his surroundings for an up-tenth time. He didn’t notice how a Bot winced at the mention of his new title.

Minibot knew he deserved that snide remark. But it did not make him feel better about his recent promotion to an Elite Guard. Or about a decision to become one for that matter. The decision which led to a situation where an Autobot and a Decepticon got lost under an Iacon city. 

They had to hide in maintenance tunnels from the times prior to a Great War. Tunnels built by Decepticons for Autobots’ use, and left by them to slowly rot in an utter disrepair after the said War was officially ended. Sealed off since the banishment of Warframes from Cybertron, eventually the structure turned into an urban myth not many of currently living mechs remember or even know about.

An old complex Blitzwing and Bumblbee were currently navigating in was once part of the major supportive structure. Meant to protect veins and tubes once full of energon, that section was made of sturdy materials which stoically passed the test of time. 

The Decepticon would’ve lied if he’d said he’s not pleasantly surprised by that discovery. 

But it did not bright up his mood by much - they still needed to find a way to the surface level of a planet. 

“Foolish of me to expect a scout with no field experience to do a Warframe’s job,” the mech muttered under his breath, words bitter on his glossa. “Perhaps I should have been the one to search for an exit after all”.

Blitzwing had no intent for the last sentence to be heard by his peer, but an aforementioned scout, apparently, had nicely tuned audials. 

Figures. 

“And to risk exposing your Decepticon signature to raging authorities? No, thanks!” Bumblebee chirped after successfully reaching for a rod sticking out of a long abandoned structure. “It was already enough of me putting everything at risk by making stupid decisions - I don’t want to see you following my lead.”

Somehow the fact that a minibot admitted his mistakes helped to somewhat cool Blitzwing down. He said nothing in return but did glance at him once prior returning to surveying desolated surroundings. 

Bumbler’s changed since the promotion to the ranks of an Elite Guard. He seemed to act more mature, even if he’s still naive about most things happening around him. For strangers it’d be an unexpected change of character for such an optimistic and energetic Bot as Bumblebee. But Blitzwing was no random outsider, whether he liked to be on closer terms with a current companion of his or not. 

Death of a teammate has effected the minibot on a much deeper level then he’d ever admit to anybody, even to himself. Yet, despite how horrible it might’ve sounded, the Decepticon thought that that was an important lesson every soldier had to live through. And as a mech, who’s witnessed deaths of many of his comrades throughout the Great War, he had to agree that Bumbler was holding up pretty well for someone so inexperienced in mentioned matters. 

Even Blitzwing, who did not know Prowl as well as a yellow Bot did, felt the loss of a mech effecting him as well to a certain degree. No matter how secluded and cold the cyber-ninja seemed to be, he always had a special aura around him, the one that made people feel at ease in his presence. Though how he could so freely speak to a Con about importance of life and probability of peace among Cybertronians remained a mystery to him to that solar cycle.  

What was that thing black and golden Autobot’s talking about during the last conversation of theirs? 

“To have Faith not in Primus, not in The Allspark, but in each other”?

What exactly made him see it being possible back then and, especially, at a current stage of the reignited conflict between factions? Triplechanger had no answer to that question either. He didn’t view how the world should work the same way Prowl did. Could not fully comprehend the intricacies of a philosophy of an Autobot, but, at least, did not lack the courage to make it very clear during a mentioned discussion of theirs.

Blitzwing didn’t have Faith in anyone anymore, and he surely wouldn't in a foreseen future. 

For who could remain being supportive of their unhelpful, unwanted partn-… Autobot, while being lost in Allspark forsaken place with no means of escape?

…

“… -es! I see the gap in a wall!.. Blitzwing, I actually see it!”

The joyful voice tore Triplechanger from a deep melancholy state he slipped into while looking down a dark tunnel to his left. He raised his ruby optics, their faint glow barely lighting sharp features of his blue faceplates.

“Right where you’ve predicted it to be,” The Autobot added after turning around in order to face his unfortunate companion, unintentionally giving him quite a peculiar view of his small form.

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

...

Blitzwing huffed in mild annoyance at himself and his artistic side of a processor - it was not the right moment for poetic comparisons. Hope and Faith had no place in a situation he was stuck in, only cold calculations. He and Bumbler had to get out of that place, no matter the cost. And the sooner they’d get rid of an energy chain, the better.

[in3rci4]

maybe you could do TBP boys x GN reader who is always serious and calm and doesn't have the habit of smiling, smiling for the first time

Thank you for the request and for giving an idea too 😊🥹 ! I appreciate it , hope it's not too bad ❤️‍🩹

" And then they smiled , that's what i'm after . A smile on their eyes , the sound of their laugher"

The title comes from a small piece of the lyrics of the song " Drift away" from Steven Universe

Prompt : The Black Phone boys reaction at the reader who's always serious and calm , smile and laugh for the first time

Characters included: Vance Hopper , Bruce Yamada , Billy Showalter , Robin Arellano , Griffin Stagg , Finney Blake

WARNINGS !! : Character x reader content , no use of y/n , idk what else to say , Gn ! Reader , Reader might have some backstory I guess ¿? maybe a mix of Fluff and Angst ¿? Some gonna be shorter than others , spelling mistakes

Vance Hopper

You two knew each other for some time now , you were home schooled not so long ago so you didn't had an idea of Pin Ball Vance Hopper reputation . The moment the teacher assigned the both of you for a project , you weren't walking on eggshells like everybody else did with him while talking , you didn't expect anything from him , for you , Vance was just ... Vance . That's the exact reason why you befriend him in no time , your non judgmental personality , and you were completely unaware he wasn't like this with anyone , anyone but you . Even if your words were nice and honest he noticed how cautious you were with your movements and expressions , he thought it was weird at first , your voice didn't matched with the look in your face in his opinion , but Vance got used to it pretty quick , he's not a smiley guy either , he was ... A little more grumpy person than you . Just like usual , in the weekend you would stay by his side watching him play his Pin Ball game , and also making sure he didn't beat anyone if anything went wrong with it , but those are details . You got hungry and decided to buy Mrs Ellen a small snack bag , when you went back to the side of the machine ( not too close to possibly bump it though ) he started to get close to beating his high score . You gasped in excitement and then he heard the sound of the machine saving his new record on the top of it . Vance let go of the arcade game machine and started to shake you excited as well by your arms , you doing the exact same thing with the snack bag still in your hands

" You did it Vance , you finally beat your high score !"

You said with a smile while laughing of enjoyment

" See !? Told ya , told ya I would fucking beat that shit , didn't I !? "

You kept laughing and smiling from the happiness of had seen it happening after so long , so many failed tries were worth for this day to happen . Vance in the other hand stopped moving your body to stare at you instead .

You were smiling , smiling in a genuine , happy and .... He would say in a beautiful way too . Is this how you look like when you're happy ? The real you ?

Maybe he should try to get you to smile more often .

Confused about the sudden change of attitude you asked him with a small giggle

" Vance , are you ok ? "

Yes , he would be ok , as long as you are with him for a little longer like this .

Bruce Yamada

He was a popular and loved guy , he didn't had trouble hanging with almost everybody in school, and Bruce didn't have to do any effort in finding someone to date either . And yet , a particular classmate of his , you , was the one that had all his attention . A person that minded their own business and never had smile in front of anybody before , and still looks like a magazine model .

Bruce wanted to get close to you for years , but he never had the opportunity , ironically , he never had the courage to go straight at you and tell how good looking you are , you look so serious that you kinda scared him , but not enough to stop liking you .

The biology teacher didn't had a clue how happy he made Bruce the day he paired you and him in a project for the science , finally he could have his opportunity , his chance with you . Dying of anxiety inside like his first baseball game , he asked you

" Hey , I know we never talked before and stuff , but would you like to stop at my house tomorrow to speed up things ? For the project , you know ? Maybe we could go out somewhere in the weekend if everything goes well "

Looking into his eyes and with suspicion in yours you asked as well

" As a date ?"

He wasn't expecting you to be straightforward as well , so he fidget with his fingers a little and with a nervous yet bright smile he said

" Yeah , I mean , if you want to of course "

The recess bell rang and everybody stood up to be free again , you grabbed your book and walked towards the door , but before you leave you said looking at him

" it's a date then "

With a smile that could've killed Bruce if he didn't want to stay alive to see you tomorrow , God bless the biology teachers man .

Billy Showalter

His dog Harper was Billy's loyal companion , a very well behaved girl too , never biting things that she shouldn't , no barking unless there's danger or she's commanded to , not jumping into people in excitement , in general , a really good girl . The mornings delivering News Papers are much better with her by his side , at that hour people are still processing their awakening and there's little people on the street , but the ones that are outside never got a complain about her , in fact , they usually want to ask for permission to pet her instead . Lately someone that he seen outside at early morning was you , sometimes with groceries in your hand , sometimes only walking by yourself . You were one of Billy's classmate , but he doesn't talk with anybody in it , at least not anymore , and you were no exception . Sometimes he founds himself staring at you and then snapping out of it , trying to ignore whatever feeling he had to do such thing , but something about you , that mysterious unexpressive charm , the stern look in your eyes , is something that he can't quite describe with words and is afraid of digging for a definition in his mind . Unfortunately for this boy one of those mornings you decided to walk your rescued male dog and Harper for the first time ran away towards the dog to meet him , both with waggy happy tails sniffing each other . Billy stops his bike at a mailbox and runs towards her , to you

" Harper ! Harper ! I'm Sorry , she's never like that , I don't know what's up with her "

The female dog comes close to you waiting to be petted , and you were more than happy to give her what she wanted

" it's ok , she's a really good girl , she just wanted to meet the new handsome boy here "

Billy knew you were referring about your dog , but his stupid brain still made his cheeks burn from the blush , why's he's being like this ?

Harper licks your hand and you giggle from the tickle feeling in your palm , you smile , and he smiles too . More pleased about the morning you said

" You want me to walk with you while you deliver your papers ? Then we can both take the dogs for a walk "

Something more mysterious about you was how quickly you made Billy accepted the fact once for all about his crush about you , maybe the moment your face light up with your smile had enchanted him

" Yeah , I don't mind , Harper hasn't seen that many dogs around anyway "

Harper always helping him in the simple things , she's for sure getting a special treat today after you're gone .

Robin Arellano

He may not seem like that , but he's a person with a good memory and remembers a bunch of people even they don't remember him ( Difficult to say since almost everybody in school knows his name ) . He remembers you from elementary school , Robin thought you were the cute one of the class , although his classmates prefer to call you the " quiet " one . He noticed how you never changed , always focusing on your studies and never smiling , not even for the photos , not even for politeness , always keeping your expressions neutral and seriousness in your way of acting .

Life crossed your paths the day a bully that didn't find his victim who didn't showed up in school decided to go after you instead , poor choice of decision , because Robin did , he showed up , and beat him up .

After he was done , he walked on his way to the boy's bathroom , but you stopped him , and Robin was deep down afraid he messed up things instead of making them better between both of you

" Robin ! "

Trying to keep his cool when he hears your voice behind him , he turns around and responds

" yeah ?"

Without finding more words to describe your gratitude , you kept it simple and said with a gentle smile

" Thank you "

Yes ! He did impressed you ! It was all damn worth it !

" No problem "

Robin walked again feeling like the main character of an action movie , and you smiled at him too ? You ? The good looking and serious you ? Nah he ain't forgetting this day for nothing !

Finney Blake

This year he wasn't sitting alone on the back on the class , well , he was still on the back on the class , but he was sharing his desk this time , with you . Finney had to admit it was hella awkward , I mean , he can't complain that much since it could be worse or Finney himself is too much of a shy guy to start a conversation or keep it on with a stranger . You , his desk mate , never talked to him , not even once , and your cold serious personality didn't make things easier , the two of you introverts , teachers never had to complain about the noise that you guys could make in class . A regular day in math class the teacher talked about the possibility of numbers being negative and being under the 0 , this got the interest of the students because it was something relatively new so far .

Finney murmured to himself casually

" Damn , not even numbers can't stay positive "

It was a bad joke ? Yes , but it was so unexpected he stole a snort and giggle from you , you had to shut yourself up with your hand or else more laughing would be heard by the teacher .

In Finney's opinion it was a terrible one , he's not even that funny , he was surprised yet amused at your sudden change of expression . Maybe he could push his luck a little further ?

" I guess we can't be negative if we just started "

You stopped from escaping a laugh from your mouth once again , maybe Finney couldn't see your complete smile , but your half closed happy eyes got his ego fly over the roof .

They say " stay with the one that makes you laugh "

So don't worry , laugh all you want from now on , he's good at math anyway , he can always teach you if you got too distracted for him .

Not like Finney minds your company at all .

Griffin Stagg

The day he saw you smile after 2 years of watching you keeping your face as unexpressed as possible , was the day a older group of bullies bumped into him , and God , he was so fine with being invisible for other students and not dealing with being a punch bag , that he tried to run away as fast as he could before they could do anything . But stronger and experts on making kid's lives hell , they quickly grabbed his shirt and started to mock him and test him in front of everybody in the cafeteria . Griffin didn't say anything , he couldn't , or else it would be worse , he knows that like the back of his hand . 3 tall dudes , 1 grabbing his shirt , 2 grabbing each of the boy's arms , it seemed like everything was lost , but you pulled up the one in front of Griffin by the shirt and tucked him to the ground . The two boys left pushed Griffin to the ground as well , and went straight to attack you .

But you dodge all of them easily .

After giving the whole cafeteria a show to watch , the boys got up and swore that it wasn't over , but you couldn't care less . You walked towards Griffin and offered him your hand , he stays still without knowing what to say or do more than stare in confusion , until he spoke

" Thank you ... For helping me "

With a big bright smile that didn't fit someone like you , so serious and capable of defeating 3 guys , you responded

" It's nothing , now get up Griff "

Griff ? No one has called him like that before . But , it doesn't sound bad , right ? He kinda likes the nickname .

[justnatoka]

Haunted

Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

A/n: This started as a drabble. Oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: mention of injury

Prompt: "I'm pretty sure it was a ghost." / "I'm pretty sure it's not." / "Oh really?" / "Ghosts don't bleed."

Summary: After days of running you finally find shelter, both literally and figuratively.

Your panting filled the silence of the empty room, echoing back from the walls of the run down house you were hiding in. It was clear it has been standing abandoned for many years, decay and nature slowly sneaking in through the cracks and taking over. Lucky for you, one of the windows in the back was shattered, probably adventurous teens exploring the place since the door has been boarded up. It was a good enough hiding place for now.

A wave of pain shot through your shoulder as you tried to find a more comfortable seating position against the wall of the kitchen, a nice reminder that you weren’t out of the woods yet. You had been running for days, your body growing more and more exhausted. It looked like you finally managed to lose the hunter chasing you, at least for now. Hopefully, you can spend the day here sleeping.

The next big problem was your shoulder. You had no idea what he shot you with, but it wasn’t healing, not like you usually do. You were more resilient than humans of course, but if you didn’t find some help and soon, you would bleed out.

As you were thinking through your options, trying not to lose yourself to the fear gripping your lungs like a vice at your hopeless predicament, you heard gravel crunch outside. You were instantly on alert, quieting down your breathing, fight or flight taking over once again. You got ready to run if need be. It was possible that it was just some critter scurrying away in the dark, you thought, but then the sound came again and it was clearly something bigger, walking on two feet. As they got closer, you could make out three, four different pair of footsteps. It was not your pursuer, but that didn’t mean they were friendly. In your current state, you didn’t want to risk getting into an altercation with four people, even if they were just ordinary humans. Finally, you could hear them talking too.

“You think it’s haunted?”

“What’s the matter, Paul? Are you chicken?”

“Shut up, Marko. I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Oh, really? Then why don’t you go in first?”

“I will! I’ll show you!”

You heard wood splintering, and it became clear that they were ripping off the wooden planks from the door.

“It looks like no one has been here for a while. I wonder why the humans avoid it so much.” It was a calmer voice that spoke up next, and your brain subconsciously picked up on his word choice.

‘Humans’? Is it possible…?

“I heard that there has been a murder. A man slaughtered his entire family. They probably think it’s cursed.” This one sounded amused, like he was laughing at the fear of others.

“You hear that, Paulie? It’s definitely haunted.”

“Man, shut up!”

They finished dismantling the barricade and the front door swung open with a loud creek. You didn’t take your eyes off the opening connecting the kitchen to the hallway, just a few doors down from the main entrance. As you were slowly and silently backing up to another door behind you, leading to the living room with the broken window, your only escape route, you bumped into a small dresser. To your horror, a glass tipped over and shattered on the floor. Your senses were probably dulled from exhaustion, otherwise you wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake.

“What was that?”

“Maybe it was a ghost. Let’s go and say hi.”

The footsteps approached and you quickly turned the corner into the living room, just in time to hear them step into the kitchen. They were too close. Then you heard a high-pitched screech, and someone fell over laughing.

“What the hell, Marko? Not cool, man, not cool! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You should have seen your face! Ow! Stop punching me!”

“What’s going on, boys?” The other two arrived to the kitchen as well.

“That glass broke, and I think I saw something move through that door over there. I’m pretty sure it was a ghost.” The voice belonging to ‘Paul’ said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not.” It was the calm one this time.

“Oh really? How do you know, Dwayne?”

“Ghosts don’t bleed.”

Silence. Shit. Some of your blood was probably smeared on the wall you were leaning against earlier. You eyed the window. If you could make it there and get outside, the way is clear to the tree line. You can hide in the woods. But if you make a run for it, they would definitely hear it. Oh well, it’s not like you had anything to lose. You glanced back one more time towards the door to the kitchen before quickly turning around to bolt. You didn’t even make it two steps before bumping into something solid and someone grabbed hold of your arms. You panicked, clawing and scratching and hitting any surface you could reach, struggling and hissing, but you couldn’t overpower them. Myriad thoughts were running through your terrified brain. How is this possible? Why can’t I get free? I’m injured and exhausted, but I should still be stronger than an ordinary human. What are they going to do to me? Is this where I die?

“Look what we have here, boys,” came an amused voice from above you, and as you looked up, you stared into the striking blue eyes of the stranger. You quickly took in the scruffy face and the bleached blond mullet before trying to get away once again. You could sense the others stepping into the room behind you. You were surrounded. In your last desperate attempt you vamped out, baring your sharp teeth and hissing in the stranger’s face. His expression changed instantly, the smirk melting off his face. But instead of jerking away from you in fear, his brows furrowed, a frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

“They are one of us,” you heard from behind. The man holding your arms was looking you over more carefully now, his scowl deepening at the sight of your frantic eyes and torn clothes, gaze immediately drawn to your wounded shoulder, still oozing blood through your shirt. His eyes finally met yours once again, now full of concern and, to your amazement, glowing yellow in the dark.

“What happened to you, sweetheart?” His voice was so gentle. You felt tears gathering in your eyes and slowly running down your cheeks as you collapsed in his arms, relief flooding your body. They were like you. They can help you. You’re finally safe. The word safe ran through your head over and over again. He wrapped you up in his arms, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing manner, letting you cry into his shoulder.

After your sobs quietened down, he led you over to the beaten up old couch, letting go of you in the process, but staying close. As you wiped the tears from your eyes, your vision becoming clearer, you saw three guys standing over you, all of them full of genuine concern. The one next to you spoke up again.

“I’m David, and this is my pack,” he motioned to the others. One of them, a blond with a friendly smile sat down on your other side.

“I’m Paul, this is Marko,” the one with the colorful jacket and curly hair waved, ”and the big, brooding fella is Dwayne.” He nodded at you in greeting. “What’s your name, dollface?” You muttered out your name, voice still thick from crying. Paul’s smile brightened, immediately making you at ease, your body finally starting to relax.

“What happened to you?” It was David who spoke up again, his voice somber and his face serious.

“Hunter,” you whispered out and they went rigid. You continued. “He’s been chasing me for days. I finally managed to lose him a few towns over, then I found this place. I thought I can hide here for a bit, get some sleep.” Your hand went to your shoulder, their eyes following the movement. “He shot me with something two days ago. I don’t know what it was, but I’m not healing.”

Paul drew in a sharp breath beside you, and you could see from the corner of your eyes as Marko started pacing around, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger. His steps echoed loudly in the silence following your admission.

“What do we do now?” Dwayne asked, his gaze full of determination.

David looked straight at you, his voice calm as he started speaking, but his eyes echoed the same sentiment you saw in all of them. They were not going to let anything happen to you.

“We’re taking you to Max, our sire. He will figure it out what you were shot with and how to deal with it.” He softened a bit as he added. “You’re safe. You’re one of us now.”

This brought fresh tears to your eyes and for the first time in many days, a smile tugged up the corner of your lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice full of emotion.

As you moved to stand up, your legs gave out. Your body has been running on pure adrenaline for a while, not being able to feed while being chased, and it looked like it finally has caught up to you. Before you could collapse to the floor, steady hands took hold of you and you were hoisted from the ground. Looking up, you were met with Dwayne’s warm brown eyes.

“You can rest now,” he said, sending you a small smile as he carried you out the front door, away from the house, away from the fear and desperation. Listening to the murmuring of the others talking, exhaustion finally took you over, resting your head against Dwayne’s solid chest, his steps lulling you to sleep. The future looked just a little bit brighter.

[meowshark12]

i know it won't work...(rc)(2)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

chapter 2 summary: you and your girls show up to Topper's, and have some fun before the fun even begins. you talk to Rafe before either of you are feeling the effects of your drinks, but what happens after the drinks start flowing?

(not canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

warnings: underage drinking. but I fear that's obvious.

1 2 3

chapter 2: its complicated.

The party begins for the six of you well before the party begins for the rest of the island. As you arrive to Topper's house, the boys welcome each of you with your drink of choice. Topper holding Macey's, Kelce holding Stella's, and Rafe holding yours.

"How did you know?!" you ask, though you know the answer. You and your girls were spontaneous in many ways, but you knew what you liked to drink and didn't always want to branch out.

"Lucky guess," Rafe shrugs with a smirk and a slight roll of his eyes. You laugh with him, knowing that he was thinking the same thing you were. The six of you begin conversing as if you hadn't seen each other in weeks, but the conversation only lasts a few minutes before Topper cuts in.

"Okay, okay," Topper begins, "beer pong?" he asks, prompting an immediate 'yes' from the rest of you. The six of you walk out onto the massive porch that wraps around Toppers house. You hang toward the back intentionally. Having a group of 6 was perfect almost all the time, since everyone always had a partner. But, for beer pong, only 4 people could play at a time. Topper and Kelce partner up, and so do Stella and Macey, leaving you and Rafe out of the first game.

While you may normally be upset about the way everyone split off, you were thankful this time. You were going to be able to talk to Rafe about what had happened earlier today with his dad.

"Fuck you guys," Rafe retorts, playfully. "Looks like it's just me and you," he says, turning his attention to you.

"Don't sound too excited," you start, feigning offense at his comment. You finish the last sip of your drink and crush the can. "Come inside with me? Need another drink!" you say, hoping to get Rafe to follow.

"How are you already done? You literally got here less than 10 minutes ago,"

"...I was thirsty," you say, opening the door and walking into the house before turning over your shoulder, "are you coming or what?" Rafe follows close behind you.

As you enter Topper's kitchen, you feel the atmosphere shift. You open the fridge to find yourself and Rafe some new drinks, since he finished his on your short walk from outside into the kitchen.

The two of you were quite animated when you were outside, but, being alone with Rafe, you didn't feel the need to turn on your outgoing personality anymore. And, it seemed, neither did he. Or maybe he just knew you were trying to corner him into a conversation he wanted no part of.

You hand Rafe his drink and hoist yourself up so that you're sitting on the countertop. Rafe stands to your right, leaning against the counter. "So..." you begin, hoping to break the ice that has seemed to form between the two of you. Neither of you moves. He moves to open the beer you handed him.

"I know what you're gonna say." he says and looks at you with a straight face, though you swear his eyes are smiling.

"How could you possibly know what I'm about to say?" you look at him and ask with a tone of incredulity, as if appalled, but more appalled that he could read your thoughts.

He pauses and takes a swig of his drink, leaving you on the edge of your seat. You drink some of yours, more than you usually would in one sip.

"I can just tell. You make it pretty easy," he says nonchalantly, as if he wasn't the one making it easy to tell earlier in the day, practically glued to his phone staring at a message from his father. You look down and inhale sharply before speaking.

"So what did the message say then?" you ask, bluntly. Rafe's face changed, his unbothered smirk disappearing for a split second into ambiguity before returning. Rafe liked that you were able to not beat around the bush with him. He found it to be one of the things he liked the most about your relationship with each other. He turns his body to face you, practically brushing your leg with his torso.

"It was just about work- for him I mean." he says with a sigh. You cock your head to the side, silently urging him to keep speaking. "He gets mad about these deals with the company not going through and kinda takes it out on me."

You nod, your face softening. He continues, looking up into your wide, accepting eyes, "I know I'm supposed to be helping with the company, but the shit he blows up about is not even stuff I'm involved in. But I'm sure he's justified it enough that I'll be awaiting punishment when I come home tomorrow," he finishes, his eyes looking just past you.

"I'm sorry, Rafe." you ay, his attention turning back to you. Hes more willing to look at you while you speak than he is to look at you when he speaks.

"I know you're doing the best you can with what he gives you. It's hard to continue being successful, though, if he keeps blowing up at you for shit you didn't have a place in doing. I understand why you're frustrated, but I hope you know that other people notice how hard you're working, even if Ward isn't the one to say something about it." You pause, making sure he's listening to you before continuing. Rafe could not be more attentive if he tried, your captivating eyes catching his attention, and your kind words keeping it.

"Just try not to let it bother you. Or, if anything, try to take compliments from others the same way you would take criticism from Ward. It might make you realize how well you're actually doing." you finish, out of breath from your spiel. Rafe is staring down at you, his blue eyes nearly popping out of his head from what you said. He waits a minute before speaking, long enough that you aren't sure he was going to even respond.

"Even though I knew you were gonna ask me about it, I also knew that I would want to listen to everything you said after I told you." He says, truthfully. You see the way his shoulders relax as he speaks, indicative of how much he trusts you. "I really don't understand how you're so good at this whole thing."

"What 'whole thing'?"

"I don't know... the like... therapist thing?" he says, clearly unsure if that was the right choice of words. He stands up straight, moving so he's directly in front of you as you sit on the counter.

"Well, I don't know. But I'm glad it makes you feel better? So thanks for listening," you shrug. You're almost at his eye level, realizing just how tall he is in this exact moment. There's a tension between you that wasn't there before, and you're not sure why.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way he seemed to need comfort, or maybe it was the sneaky compliments you had both given to the other, but you felt like you should give him a hug. That was something you had never done after years of these so-called 'therapy sessions', but it just felt right, in this moment.

However, the moment was soon ruined when your friends entered the room. Hooting and hollering was all you could hear as you and Rafe finished your conversation, separating, though you weren't entirely that close to begin with.

"Who won?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

Stella and Macey looked defeated, which was probably what prompted Stella to say, "I need another drink," and for Macey to nod along.

You hopped off the counter to open the fridge, but Topper beat you to it. "I think, since you lost, its only fair if you shotgun one first..." Topper says mischievously. The girls roll their eyes but hold out their hands.

"You're totally going down later. That was just our warmup," Macey says, flexing her muscles, as Stella nods along in agreement.

"Ok, but only if me and yn get to show off our skills too." Rafe adds in. You smile and nod along, glad that Rafe seemed to be out of his funk. You were also glad that he saw you as a pong partner and someone to talk to about hard things.

The boys, your girls, and you decide to all shotgun one beer, since it only seemed fair that way, and since the boys definitely just wanted to show off their skills.

You finish somewhere in the middle, Stella coming in last and complaining because the boys had 'rigged it', though you all knew she was just mad that she lost.

As time goes by, you don't realize how many people actually end up attending the house party. You've been standing outside with the same group of people for over an hour, but you look up to find that the population has tripled since the last time you noticed. Since you're so enamored with your friends, you don't always look around to see what other people are up to.

You had gone inside to find Topper's secret stash of alcohol (in his closet in a shoebox... not very secret but ok Top) and your group was gone when you came back down. Since you knew the house, you figured you would walk around until you got bored and found your group.

This is how you found yourself in the kitchen with a group of people you would not usually hang around. You were having a good time, but after 10 minutes (give or take) you were found by your girls, who then dragged you back outside.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," Stella says, grabbing your arm.

"Yeah dude, we aren't whole without you!!" Macey says passionately, leaning her head on your shoulder. You smile, saying goodbye to your acquaintances and letting yourself be dragged outside by your best friends.

Your buzz was buzzing by this point in the night, that's for sure. Your group was sitting around the fire pit in Topper's backyard by the pong table that has since been moved from the porch (due to some shenanigans that had Topper screaming about 'expensive pillows'?). There was one couch, occupied by Topper, Macey, and Stella, and 6 chairs, occupied by Rafe, you, Kelce, some of Topper's other friends, and there were a few people standing around nearby. You relaxed into the chair beneath you, staring up at the stars before a voice interrupted your peace.

"Hey boys!!" the voice exclaimed, almost too excitedly. You wouldn't normally recognize the voice, but, having heard it that same day in fourth period, you knew it all too well.

Heads turn, your girls staying silent while the others in the group said hello to Amber and her two friends. Your eyes dart to Stella and Macey, who are already looking at you from across the fire. The look you shared was indescribable, but you all knew what it meant.

...

"the big 3"

mace🦋

was she even invited

stella may💫

what. the. fuck.

mace🦋

nah bro bc why is she here. I dont think she's

ever been to this house EVER. she prob hasn't

even been on this street.

you

aint no way dude.

mace🦋

yn you spoke her into existence

you

don't even fucking say that rn.

...

You look up from your phone, seeing Amber perched on the arm of Kelce's chair, while her minions friends were behind her. You catch Topper's eye after looking around, the look he shoots you saying "we all know that you three are texting each other." but you ignore it. You look over, looking at Rafe', but his eyes were only on Amber. His leg was bouncing. You never wished you could read minds until now. The conversation is casual as you tune in, then Amber speaks.

"Is anyone even gonna play pong?? Why is there a table set up if nobody is playing?" she says, waiting for a response. The boys smirk.

It's not that Amber wasn't physically attractive. Of course, she was beautiful. Long blonde hair cascaded her shoulders, her long legs smooth and shiny. She was thin, athletic, but also the worst person you had ever had the misfortune of speaking with. That being said, you understood why boys liked her, but you understood why many girls did not.

"We played a little earlier, Kelce and I still have to rematch the Stels and Mace," Topper jokes, while your girls roll their eyes. Stella opens her mouth to speak before she is interrupted.

"Well, that can wait, can't it?" Amber drawls, "Anyway, I've never played... well, maybe once, but I'm no good... I probably need some practice or a good partner to help carry me," she continues with a fake laugh. One of Topper's friends is about to offer when Rafe speaks up.

"I'll be your partner," he offers, shrugging, and you almost let your jaw drop. You didn't think Rafe would do that, to be completely honest. You thought he would laugh at the idea of ever even being seen with her, but it appears you were wrong about him in that way.

"I'll go set up then!" Topper gets up, prompting Kelce to follow him.

You couldn't help but be a little hurt, and you couldn't tell if it was jealousy, betrayal, or a mix of both. Rafe had borderline said he wanted to be your partner earlier, and now he goes with Amber? Of course you were jealous of her effortless looks, but something about her partnering up with Rafe made the jealousy seem to explode within you.

...

"the big 3"

stella may💫

team meeting. top's parents room closet. 5 mins.

mace🦋

On my way!

stella may💫

I'll be close behind. gotta piss!

you

yeah need.

mace🦋

you good?

you

prob. idk. talk abt it soon. wtf is wrong with me?

...

You head up to the closet in Topper's parents room, the place that the you used to hide in when you would play hide and seek turned into your hideaway during these uncomfortable events, and now from whatever just happened outside. Your girls meet you there soon after.

"Ok, what the fuck was that?" Stella borderline yells over the faint party music you can still hear downstairs. You lay on the ground on your side as your girls sit down in front of you.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna lie, we thought you were over exaggerating about how she acted earlier today... but that was crazy." Macey explains. It doesn't bother you that she said she thought you were overreacting, because now she sees the truth of how Amber can act.

"I know." you begin, rolling to lay on your back with your hands on your stomach. "I honestly don't care that she's here," you pause, thinking about the next thing you were gonna say, "...but I think I'm just mad that she's hanging out with OUR friends." you finish, happy with getting that off of your chest.

"I KNOW!!" Macey exclaims, and it made you glad that you weren't acting crazy like you had thought. "She just comes in here, takes our friends, and walks away like it's nothing with her gorgeous hair, and pretty smile, and oh my god she's doing it to me!"

"Maybe we are just being dramatic." Stella says, always the voice of reason. "Maybe they really have a reason to like her and we are just gatekeeping our friends from making more friends and branching out."

"STELS, why would they even want different friends!? Shouldn't they be happy like we are with them? I mean we could definitely make cuter, funnier, better boy friends, but we settled for them and they should do the same for us." Macey interrupts in a drunken ramble. You laugh, rolling your eyes at your friend.

"I think maybe we are making this too big of a deal." The girls look at you as you sit up. "Why are we letting this affect our night? Let's go back down there. They're probably done playing by now, we can get our boys back." You say, rallying your girls to get up, get pretty, and continue to get drunk(er).

They agree with you, and the three of you head back downstairs after leaving your safe space. You walk outside after getting stuck in a boring conversation with your lab partner and you walk toward the game of pong that is somehow still going on.

When you see Rafe's arm around Amber's shoulder as she leans into his side, you don't react. You hope that they will hook up tonight and then Rafe won't speak to her again, like he usually does. At least you could hope, for now.

taglist: @flvredcas @rafesno1bae @kiiyomei @silkylovey

@girlwedontcare @sunny1616 @asterizee @pillowprincess4him

@patychieffi @rafeslittleangel @theyluvmesblog

a/n: sry if this makes no sense. thanks so much for enjoying last part, makes me so motivated to keep writing!! also, unedited. sorry if its confusing but hope you can enjoy anyway!

[mmogurl]

Daddy Issues Part 1: Savior

18+ | 1.7k | Homelander X Female Reader | protective homelander, reader's back story is a little dark, reader might be a bit of a nympho, mentions of suicide, rape, assault, alcoholism, emotional child abuse. My Own Writing Prompt: What if Homelander became your Daddy and was really good at it? This is my first attempt at writing for a 'Reader' character! I usually always write it as an OC, so this should be a fun challenge. There will be more, but I'm not sure how many yet - maybe 3 parts. I wanted to keep these side ideas shorter and easier to pick up and put down. Part 1: Savior | Part 2: Baseline | Part 3: Spoiled | Part 4: Comfort

You’ve not had the best childhood. You were raised by an alcoholic, neglectful mother who cared more about getting laid by strange men that she met at the bar than you. This was paired with a father who would literally do anything but spend time with you, even when you flew fifteen hundred miles via airplane and stayed for the whole summer. Love, affection, attention, validation. These are all things that have been acutely missing from your life and so it should come as no surprise that you might be tempted towards the more hedonistic side of things.

After all, there is no better way to pretend that someone loves you, then when they’re fucking you.

Your bedroom has been a revolving door of men, much like your mothers had been when she was still alive. But, she’s left you alone in this world, long since dead from cirrhosis of the liver, and you’d really rather not have anything to do with your piece of shit father. With no siblings or family to call your own and nobody left to really give a shit, your life feels kind of empty. Fucking is the one thing that makes you feel alive, at least until it’s over and all of the feelings of guilt and shame come flooding back in.

That’s alright though. That’s what the beer is for. When too many voices start to nag you about your choice of lifestyle, you just drown it out. And no, you don’t think of yourself as an alcoholic like your mother. You are just self medicating, and find this over the counter prescription much more effective than the ones your psychiatrist had given you. You’d rather feel something than nothing after all. Maybe this makes you a hypocrite, but you really don’t care.

Perhaps it is this very state of inebriation that has led to your current situation though. You really should start taking accountability for the way your life has turned out and stop playing the victim. Sadly, there may not be enough time to make any serious life changes because things are looking pretty grim. A chance encounter with a good looking man named Mark that you’d met, ironically at the bar, has turned into a complete catastrophe, and even you with your insight and feisty spirit, especially when drunk, cannot see a way out of it.

Mark said he was parked just down the road, and there were so many lights and people walking down the main throughway that you really hadn’t considered you might even be in danger. That was until you’d both walked a ways down the alley, past the point of lights and still there was no car. Who the fuck drives a car in New York City you found yourself thinking, but by then it was too late. By then, Mark’s lackeys had jumped out from hiding, dragging you down an intersecting alley and against the wall of some abandoned building.

You are pressed painfully against the cold and dirty brick wall with two men holding you in place, one on either side of you. One heavier set man has a knife against your throat while the other laughs in a way that makes your skin crawl. Mark stands before you still looking like the handsome bait that he was and you can’t help but wonder what they might possibly want with you. You are too old at twenty eight to be thrown into some kind of grooming gang or human trafficking and you have nobody for them to extort funds from for a ransom.

Maybe they are just interested in raping and killing you and this is just more shitty luck that life has thrown your way. It is always so easy to play the victim, even when you are still partially responsible for how the cards fall in the wake of your bad decisions.

You try to jerk your arms free, thinking it better to be cut than to be raped by these scraps of human excrement. You had already intended to fuck Mark or you wouldn’t have gone home with him, but this show of depravity has most definitely changed your mind.

You feel the heat of dripping blood from your neck as the bigger guy with the knife actually nicks your skin. Mark already has his paws on you, a look of disgusting lewdness on his face as though he’s so pleased with himself for cornering you. His hand rounds your breast and the feeling of him touching you like this elicits the most gut wrenching scream from the very depths of your chest cavity.

Then the raw, searing pain erupts across your face. Always the consummate gentleman, Mark has struck you and he didn’t pull any punches. You can’t help but hear the rimshot play in your head and you wonder how it is that even as you’re about to die, your struck with the plaguing of your morose sense of humor. You supposed in the end, it was just a way to make light of how messed up things were. And right now, they were definitely about as bad as they had ever been.

As Mark once more closes in on you, the friend not holding the knife joining in at groping you as well, you attempt to scream again. Another throbbing fist hits you so hard in the cheekbone that it literally takes away all the fight you have. You’ve never been hit so hard before in your entire life and you feel a wave of defeat roll over you like the most hated white flag flapping in the wind.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to zone out the disgusting mitts clawing at you. For a moment you consider shoving your neck into the knife to avoid letting them take this any further. But, graciously, your thoughts of escape through suicide are averted when the ground shakes as though an asteroid had just been ejected from space and landed right beside you.

There is another flash of pain as the stout man with the knife slips and cuts you once more. Free from their grip for a moment in light of the confusion, you feel your neck and are relieved to find that the cut is shallow and not gushing blood. You slowly look up and find that all the men are turned away from you, looking at something incredulously.

Your eyes grow wide when you realize they are staring at the fucking Homelander. Your jaw drops in shock as he hurls forward, grabbing the neck of the man with the knife and popping it like a grape. Blood splatters everywhere as your blond savior’s eyes flare up with bright orange light, straight into Mark’s crotch creating a massive hole that you can actually see through. You almost laugh at the thought of his likely raging hard on getting evaporated to charred bits and nothingness. Serves him right you think as his body hits the pavement with a fleshy thud.

The last man attempts to flee and you follow the outline of his backside as he runs. Homelander’s eyes glow once more and you watch as the plasma hot lasers cut across the distance, starting at the assailant’s groin and carving all the way through his head, leaving him cleaved in two even pieces.

You barely have time to think about it before Homelander’s gaze returns to you, a look of concern in his eyes as he crowds you against the wall. “Fuck!” he shouts and you startle as he starts wiping the gore and blood away from your face, your neck. “Did I hit you?”

“N-no,” you manage to squeak out. “I think it’s the fat guy’s blood.” You say this with a little more humor than you probably should, not being able to resist the idea of insulting your attacker.

Homelander stops his fussing and regards you with eyes that are so much bluer in person than they appeared on television. He raises up one hand, finger pointed at you as though you’d just fooled him, in quite a clever way. The grin on his face almost makes you forget that you’d just had strangers threatening your life and your right to choose who you spread your legs for.

“You’re funny,” he finally said, looking you over, his expression growing more grave, almost irate. “Especially for someone who just narrowly avoided getting raped and thrown in the Hudson fucking Bay.”

You can’t help but wonder why he cares. You always thought he was just a pretend super hero for the cameras, for the mega corporation known as Vought to make big bucks. It all seemed staged and as far as you knew it was. Yet, here he was, America’s patriotic golden boy, making a very unscheduled save.

“What the fuck are you doing anyway!?” he asked cynically, interrupting your thoughts. “Do you have a death wish or something? You like the idea of serving yourself up to any guy who shows you a little bit of attention?”

His line of questioning was strangely personal, as though he knew more about you than he was letting on. Even though he had just come to your rescue, exactly when you had needed him most, you can’t help but feel a little indignant.

“It’s not like I wanted this,” you retort with a furl in your brow.

“You have to know you’re beautiful,” he sputters out, eyes darting around with discomfort at the topic, barely containing his frustration. “You deserve better than this.”

“Well, God has not seen fit to bestow me with anyone better yet. I’m still waiting,” she quipped back, but she could feel her shoulders getting weak and shaky as the shock of her encounter started to weigh on her.

“Fuck God,” Homelander barked back and his countenance relaxed significantly as his anger turned to worry at the sight of your trembling body. “You’re coming with me,” he stated more than asked.

Before you knew it, his arms were scooping you up, holding you securely against his chest as he shot into the night air. Despite the sound of rushing current in your ears and the tendrils of hair whipping at your cheeks, you felt safe and comfortable. You closed your eyes and waited for the ride to be over, but little did you know that it had just begun. Continue to Part 2

[honeylations]

NAKAMURA KAZUHA x FEM!READER

PART TWO

Prompt: Still not being over your ex boyfriend (Choi Yeonjun), you thought it was a good idea to fake a relationship with Kazuha, aka a complete stranger, to make him jealous.

Warnings/Notes: small angst, fake dating to lovers, g!p Kazuha for spice, eventual smut for you horndogs

Link to part 1

A/N: RAHHHH FINALLY DID A PART TWO BECAUSE I WAS INDECISIVE OF HOW I WANTED THE STORY TO GO😭 this is like my 5th draft of Part Two💀

It’s been 2 weeks since you and Kazuha began the fake relationship and you were starting to feel a little too comfortable within the Japanese girl’s presence.

There were many things you were liking alot while being with her:

Seeing her smile

Her stupid jokes

Holding her hand

Having her arm around you

Walking you to your classes

The list can go on and on.

She went all out with your pretend dates and you found yourself staring at the photos you took together during your nights out. The warm feeling you had while with her was different than when you were with Yeonjun.

But it felt too good to be true.

Kazuha was only doing all this to help you. To protect you from Yeonjun. Right?

Wrong.

If you were a mess, Kazuha was an even bigger mess.

Every night she would pray that you’d open your eyes and realise that she was willing to do anything just for you to be officially her’s.

In Kazuha little mind, she believed you just needed protection from your ex. That you didn’t need Kazuha’s deep love. That this was only going to remain as a fantasy for the rest of her life.

But with the way your angelic laughed filled her ears, your soft hand perfectly fitting into her bigger ones, your beautiful smile…Kazuha was going to enjoy every moment while they lasted.

You were sitting next to each other as always at the lunch table with your friends, hearing more nonsense stories come out of Yunjin’s food filled mouth. You were leaning your head against Kazuha’s shoulder, playing with her fingers mindlessly as laughter continued to echo from your group.

It felt so right.

Like you had almost forgotten that it wasn’t real in the first place.

Then Yeonjun showed up again, seeming a little more timid than his usual approaches. Your table went silent upon his presence, clearly unhappy that he’s here yet again to possibly get your attention.

Kazuha’s arm instantly went around you, holding tight like you were going to disappear from her embrace.

“Hey calm down please everyone, I’m not here to try anything” Yeonjun quickly said when he saw all of your cold stares on him.

He continued. “I’m here to actually apologise. Especially towards you Y/n. I can see you’re really happy with Kazuha. She’s treating you in ways I wasn’t able to. I’m sorry for the mess I’ve caused recently, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday”

Without letting you respond, Yeonjun bowed and took his leave silently, leaving your group stunned.

“Well it was about damn time he said something. We can all live in peace now” Chaeryeong sighed dramatically, applauding everyone as if it was a team effort.

“Good job on faking the entire thing guys! Really got him fooled. Such a shame though, you two make a really good couple” Yuna hummed and tilted her head towards you and Kazuha.

“Y-Yeah…We do don’t we..” You heard Kazuha mutter while retreating her arm away from you.

Your eyes darted all over the floor out of panic. Everything was ending too soon! You didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want to lose all the warmth and happiness.

“Hey…” A voice broke you out of it, seeing that it was Sakura grabbing your hand. “Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I’m good”

Sakura’s lips went into a thin line as she rubbed her thumb across your hand. “Don’t think about it Y/n. Just do it before it’s too late”

You looked at your friend with more worry, knowing that Sakura could read you easily like a book.

She knew you were in love with Kazuha but was too scared to do something about it.

As all your classes ended, Kazuha was kind enough to walk you back to your dorm, talking normally about your day and what you’ll be up to for the rest of the semester.

Then you both halted when you reached your door. Kazuha tucked her hands into her pockets while she looked at her feet like they were interesting.

“So…Is this it?” She asked with sadness.

You gulped away the choking feeling in your throat. “I-I guess…Thanks for everything Kazuha. You were a great pretend girlfriend”

Kazuha gave a half smile and nodded. “You were a perfect pretend girlfriend. Whoever gets you in the future is one lucky person”

“Same goes to you, Zu. Thanks for taking me home one last time”

“Of course. Anytime…”

The Japanese girl began slowly walking away, her feet feeling heavier with each step like she didn’t want to leave. She really didn’t. The thought of not having you by her side 24/7 was picking at her heart piece by piece.

Then the thought of you being in someone else’s arms snapped something in her head. She wanted you to be all her’s. She wanted to be the arms you fall into. She wanted to be the one you kiss and cuddle all the time.

She needed you to be her’s and her’s only.

Her feet stopped, catching your attention from the keys you were about to push into the lock. She made a U turn on the spot and sped walk back to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you close to her face that your lips were close to touching.

“Z-Zuha?” You gasped at the sudden movement.

Her eyes were filled with emotions you couldn’t decipher but her touch made your heart beat faster.

“Y/n. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me”

“What?”

“Tell me you don’t love me so I can have a peace of mind. Tell me you didn’t feel a thing throughout the two weeks we’ve been together” Kazuha said with determination, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the anxiety she was feeling.

“Kazuha…”

“I love you Y/n. We were two dates in and I felt pathetic that I fell in love with you so quickly, but to me it felt like I wasn’t allowed. I felt like you only saw this as an escape from Yeonjun. But please tell me Y/n, through the times we held hands, did you not feel some sort of chemistry between us?”

You stared up at her for a couple more seconds before tears escaped your eyes. Kazuha froze, thinking her words had affected you in the wrong way but she couldn’t rip out an apology before you leaned up and captured her lips as your arms hooked around her neck.

Kazuha’s eyes fluttered shut and her arms held you closely by the hips, relishing the warm feeling of your lips moving against hers.

She could bask in the warmth forever but you slowly pulled away, gaze flickering from her plump lips to her eyes.

“Kazuha I love you too. I didn’t want to pretend anymore. There’s no one else in this world I’d rather love than you”

The taller girl leaned her forehead against yours with eyes closed, sighing deeply with relief at your words. “Can you be mine Y/n? For real this time?”

“Yes Kazuha, I’d be honoured to be yours. For real this time” you giggled in response as pecked her lips.

“No more hiding?”

You snuggled your head into her chest, squishing your cheek against it that you could hear Kazuha’s heart beat. “No more hiding”

Just when you thought the day couldn’t get any better, you had led Kazuha into your dorm and to your bedroom where you were laying flat on your bed, legs spread, the space in between being occupied by your girlfriend’s mouth.

She was eating you out like she’s been starved. Her strong arms were tightly wrapped underneath your thighs, holding you in place while she switched between diving her tongue deeply into your entrance to sucking on your puffy clit.

“O-Oh Kazuha! Yes baby, right there!”

She hummed at your taste, not minding the thought of being in between your legs forever as long as your juices kept satisfying her thirst.

It felt so painfully good that you were too weak to push her head away. All you could do was pull at her hair, pushing her deeper into your wet cunt despite orgasm after orgasm.

And as good as it felt, you needed her deeper inside you. You needed her cock.

“Z-Zuha…Zuha please, want your cock baby” you sniffled, gasping for air once the girl finally pulled away to let you breathe.

“Aw but I was enjoying myself. Just want to eat your pussy forever” she gave a fuckboy type of smile with your juices literally coating her mouth and chin.

“Please baby. Want your cock and your cum” you begged, making Zuha wipe your tears away.

She leaned over and kissed your nose and the rest of your flushed face. “Okay, Princess”

You watched with awe as Kazuha removed her boxers, finally being fully naked as you, then spreading your legs wider so she could give you a view of her entering your needy cunt.

You already felt full with just the head in, clawing your sheets that they almost ripped but the feeling of familiar big hands on yours let you relax a little. You didn’t realise your eyes were shut tight until Kazuha called your name softly.

“Princess, are you okay?”

You sniffled and blinked away more tears. “H-Hurts. S-So big…”

Kazuha nuzzled her nose into your temple. “Shhh, I know baby, I’m sorry. Just a couple more seconds okay? If it still hurts, tell me and I’ll pull out”

You shook your head and ran your hands up her biceps to her back, rubbing up and down. “N-No. I can take it. Just please g-go slow”

“Of course, Princess. Anything you want”

“How are you being romantic while almost ripping me in half?” You huffed, feeling Kazuha chuckle against your cheek before kissing it.

“I’ll move now”

You shut your eyes again when your girlfriend slowly pulled out just so the tip was inside before going back in at the same pace.

You’ve had 6 inches inside you before and that hurt like a bitch. But with Kazuha, 8 inches could quite literally kill you if she wasn’t gentle.

As she kept moving, you found yourself moaning louder, wanting more, craving more. You dug your acrylics into her back, possibly drawing blood.

Kazuha’s breath was getting heavier, feeling her pant against your neck like a desperate puppy. “Princess, I love the way you feel around my cock. So tight and perfect”

“More..” you whispered, giving Kazuha’s back some rest so you could cup her jaw and pull her into a needy kiss.

Kazuha pushed her tongue inside, licking you all up and even sucking on it, earning louder moans and whines from you.

“More hm? Does it feel that good, my Princess?” She said in Japanese, causing your pussy to clench tighter.

Thanks to your online Japanese classes, you were actually able to understand your girlfriend’s words. It was so hot. Her voice sounded deeper and husky, how could you NOT get soaked?

Your moans were enough of an answer for the taller girl. With one hand on your waist and the other on the headboard, she let her animal brain go loose, fucking you crazy like she dreamt of.

The slapping noises bounced off the walls (and possibly the entire dorm) as you chanted your girlfriend’s name like a ritual. She was biting and licking at your neck, stamping as much hickies as she could, not willing to miss a spot so the world would know who you finally belonged to.

“Fuck baby. You’re all mine to love…to fuck…to kiss…All mine” she growled deeply.

“Oh fuck, Zuha I’m cumming! Don’t stop baby please please please!”

“Me too Princess. Let me cum inside”

Feeling too fucked out, you nodded your head as your eyes rolled back to your head, letting the intense orgasm hit you like a goddam truck.

“Fuck…oh fuck—ah Y/n baby!” Kazuha grunted loudly and gasped into your shoulder as she continued pounding into you.

Her pace eventually slowed down to a stop when she emptied every drop of her cum inside your cunt, groaning profanities, then sweet nothings into your sweaty temple.

After a split second, Kazuha rolled you both over so you laid on top of her, not caring that her semi hard cock was still deep inside you. You felt your mixed cum sliding out of your pussy and down Kazuha’s balls, possibly dripping onto your bedsheets.

You felt your girlfriend rub circles along your back, letting you catch your breath. “You okay?”

“More than okay” you chuckled, still panting.

“Just realised we did that raw. I’m sorry”

You lifted your head up and planted lazy kisses across your girlfriend’s face. “Don’t be. I love it raw”

“As much as I love the thought of getting you pregnant, we have yet to graduate” Kazuha pouted, letting you kiss it away.

“I know, don’t worry. I’m on the pill anyways”

“Oh ok good” Kazuha sighed with content.

She thought she could sleep and have a cute lovey dovey moment with you but you abruptly sat up and placed your hands on her shoulders, giving her a mischievous smirk.

“After all that fake dating, you think one round is enough?”

“Eh?”

“Oh don’t worry, baby. Just lay there and I’ll do all the work. You know, as a thank you for saving me from all those times” you winked and slowly lifted yourself up before sinking back down.

Kazuha instantly got hard, holding onto your waist for dear life.

“Goddamn it Princess. I’ll make sure you pass out from how good this cock is”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You tilted your head, moaning in between as her length reached your womb.

You were definitely going to be missing your early morning lectures tomorrow.

[chuunai]

Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool

Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this

Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3

✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu

who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.

It’s a perfect night, really.

Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.

Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.

“You should sleep, [name].”

His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.

“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”

You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.

His little hellion.

Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.

Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.

“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”

He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.

Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.

“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”

Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.

“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”

Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.

“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”

Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.

Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.

You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.

So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.

Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”

Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.

“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”

From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.

After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.

It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.

Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

[littlespoonevan]

If you are looking for prompts.... Eddie and Tommy realising they unintentionally excluded Buck ?

ohohoho this was fun to write but Sad also bc eddie is clearly thinking one thing and tommy is clearly thinking many things and buck is off in his loft thinking many, Many things but i hope you like it, friend 💛

.

Eddie hobbles over to his couch with Tommy’s help.

“There you go, man,” Tommy says as he gets Eddie situated on the cushion. “You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Eddie replies, waving a hand. “There’s beer in the fridge though; help yourself.”

Tommy doesn’t take him up on the offer, instead moving to sit on the coffee table next to where Eddie’s propped up his injured leg.

“So, uh, Buck can get pretty competitive?” He says it like a question, nodding to Eddie’s wrapped ankle as if in proof and it’s, well-

“No, actually,” Eddie says, and he feels…stuck between a long-ingrained need to defend Buck and confusion as to how they ended up here in the first place.

Because this isn’t like Buck. Because Buck usually spends his every waking minute actively trying to keep Eddie out of harm’s way. He sure as hell is never the cause. And Eddie knows he didn’t mean to, is the thing. But just calling it a simple accident doesn’t feel quite right either.

“I don’t-” he starts and then reconsiders what he’d planned to say. “Honestly, Buck’s been a little off this week so I think…”

He trails off. It feels weird talking about Buck with someone who isn’t close to them, who doesn’t just implicitly gets all the intricate mental gymnastics behind Buck’s every action.

Then again, Eddie’s not sure if anyone is actually as adept at figuring out how Buck gets from A to Z as he is.

“Is it because of me?” Tommy asks and he looks genuinely concerned.

Eddie replays every conversation he’s had with Buck this past week – every too bright smile Buck flashed him, every enthusiastic assertion that he thought it was great Eddie had a new friend – and then he, inexplicably, thinks about when he first joined the 118 and some things slot into place.

“I think he was maybe a little worried,” Eddie allows. “That I was replacing him with you.”

Tommy’s eyes do a slow, deliberate sweep of the living room and the multiple photo frames of him, Buck and Christopher on the mantel and the side table before he looks back to Eddie. “Is that even possible?”

Eddie shakes his head, letting out a laugh. “I mean, no. Obviously. But Buck just- sometimes he needs reminding how much he means to people.”

Guilt settles between his ribs then. He’s been too distracted this week, too excited about having someone he had so much in common with around to talk to. If he’d taken half a second to look a little closer he would’ve realised Buck was spiralling.

“I should’ve spoken to him,” he sighs. “Reassured him that we weren’t trying to exclude him.”

Tommy frowns. “You really think that’s how he felt? I thought you said he never wanted to play basketball when you asked?”

“I think it was more than just the basketball,” Eddie says, wincing – the memory of him asking Buck to babysit instead of coming to the bar with them feels particularly bad.

Tommy nods slowly, mind clearly working. He’s quiet for so long Eddie thinks about telling him not to worry about it, that he’ll deal with it, but then-

“Why don’t I go talk to him?” he suggests, confident and sure. “Clear the air? I don’t want him to think I’m trying to get in the middle of you two.”

It takes Eddie by surprise. There’s a strangely defensive part of him that wants to say he and Buck don’t need anyone to mend their fences for them but he shoves the thought aside and reminds himself that’s not what Tommy means. Buck had sought Tommy out too last week and they’d seemed to get along. Maybe Tommy wants to clear the air for his own sake.

So he says, “Yeah,” probably a few seconds too late and makes himself smile. “Normally I’d be the one driving to his house and forcing him to talk. But I guess I’m kind of out of commission right now.”

He nods at his foot and Tommy laughs, pushing himself up off the couch to stand. “Well, hey, I’ll be sure to pass on your regards.”

“Thanks,” Eddie snorts.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder as he rounds the couch. “Don’t forget to take those pain pills, man. I’ll let you know how things go with Evan.”

He calls the rest of his sentence over his shoulder as he heads for the door and Eddie manages a half-hearted, “Will do,” as he hears the click of the latch.

And he feels…how Buck has felt all week, probably. Confused and irritated and a little possessive. Like Tommy’s stealing his job. As if Eddie hadn’t just told him it was fine. As if Eddie could even make it over to Buck’s place right now. At least he managed to hold back the petty, “His name is Buck,” that had immediately rose up in his throat as soon as Tommy had called him Evan.

Shaking his head, he reaches for the paper bag with his prescription that Tommy had left on the coffee table.

He’ll talk to Buck tomorrow and everything will be fine.

[shinynewboots]

Listen to your Heart: Adam x pregnant!reader

AN: Lol I enjoyed writing this wonderful prompt for @madmiriam! I wasn't sure exactly what direction I wanted to take with this but fluff felt the most appropriate (lol all it takes is one comment though for me to write a pt 2 with smut bc I lowkey can see the vision now). I hope y'all enjoy! The prompt kept getting away from me so I tried to reel it in as much as I could so please bear with me lol

Warnings/tags: Pregnancy, reader's death/graphic details (backstory), cursing, guilt, sickeningly sweet fluff, slice of life, no beta we die like Adam

Note: S1 and S2 refer to the heart sounds heard in a normal cardiac cycle (think lub, dub).

Part 2 (18+)

You had never given much thought to how your second "life" would turn out. Avoiding exorcists on extermination day? Sure, that was to be expected. Working the same job you had worked when you were alive? Eh, that made sense, the hospital you worked at when you were alive was basically hell on earth most days.

Falling pregnant with a fallen angel's baby? Absolutely not.

You had freaked out a bit at first when you found out. You had been a doctor for fuck's sake. You should have been smarter. Except for the whole "being dead thing", which you assumed meant reproduction was off the table. Which it was, in most cases. Except for—

"Angelic Sperm," Adam said when you told him you were pregnant.

"What?" Of all the things you had expected him to say, this was not it. You had expected him to grow angry or childish, as you had known him prone to doing.

"Angelic Sperm." He repeated again, giving you a curious look.

"Adam you can repeat that all you want but that doesn't mean I know what you're talking about."

"Angelic Sperm. I think that's the only way for a sinner to get pregnant in hell. I mean, think about it, Princess of Hell is technically half-angel, half-sinner. And you've got sinners fucking all the time without getting knocked up. Come on, Y/N, weren't you a doctor?"

Adam scratched his head in contemplation, taking in this new information. You looked over at him in anger.

"I tell you I'm pregnant and all you can talk about is sperm?"

Adam looks over at you, a calm look on his face. He takes you into his arms, more gently than he ever had, and pulled you close to him. He kissed the top of your heard, his lips lingering far longer than they normally would.

"I'm so fucking excited, Y/N."

And so now you found yourself 5 months pregnant in Hell. You had begun to wear baggy clothes to not show your swollen stomach. You couldn't imagine what some sinners or overlords would do if they found out there was actually a way to get pregnant in an otherwise barren wasteland.

Adam had been very attentive to you in your pregnant state. You still had to work at the local hospital, trying to get in as many shifts as possible before the birth. When you'd gotten of work, Adam would always have some kind of food craving awaiting you, and together you would rot on the couch until it was time for bed and the day to start all over again.

There was one such time of rotting that you had found yourself lying on the couch beside Adam, on of his hands dropped across your waist and a hand lightly holding your baby. Baby, which Adam had begun to affectionately call "Little Hellion", was kicking happily in against your bladder.

You grimaced at the sensation, your body tensing against Adam. Sensing your discomfort, he kissed your forehead and pulled you tight. "Living up to your name, Hellion."

"They get it from their dad," You replied, your breath becoming more even as Hellion decided to turn their kicking attention elsewhere. Adam rubbed circles around your stomach, which seemed to appease Hellion.

"What are we going to do about after? I can't even imagine trying to raise a child in Hell, constantly on edge even more than usual." You finally asked, a question burning in the pit of your stomach for months. Hell was no place for a child. Would the baby even age? Sinners stopped aging from the moment they died. The Princess of Hell aged, though slower than a human would, but you didn't know what that meant for your baby. And other sinners would notice if they aged. Questions would be asked...questions that would be dangerous to answer.

Adam sighed and ran a hand through his soft, brown hair. "I've been thinking about that too. I think we need to go to the hotel."

You turned to look at him, your brow furrowed. "The Hazbin Hotel? Where you got fucking murdered?"

Adam laughed without humor. "Fucking insane right? And it's such a lame-ass place. But, I have to think about my family. You and Hellion are my family now, Y/N."

Warmth spread throughout your chest, Adam's confession taking you by surprise. He was rarely so vulnerable with you, mostly choosing to hide behind his mask of bravado and masculinity. You smiled at him. Hellion seemed to approve of his words as well because you received a sharp kick in your side.

"I think we should try and see if Hell Princess' redemption plans are even worth a shit. And even if they aren't, she, or Hell forbid fucking Lucifer, might have a better shot at getting in contact with Heaven than I do."

"Heaven? You want us to try and get into Heaven?" You shivered at the thought. You felt...dirty. Unclean. Unworthy of redemption. You had been sent to Hell for a reason and felt you would always serve your sentence.

"We have to try everything, Y/N. I...I have to try everything." Adam looked desperate, his golden eyes shimmering in a way you had never seen.

Adam kissed your forehead and continued rubbing circles around your stomach. He began to softly sing a Rolling Stones song you couldn't remember the name of.

And that was how you found yourself at the front door of the Hazbin Hotel, face-to-face with Lucifer of all people.

"Ooh, not sure if there are any rooms left in the inn. Might have you stay in the stables. I'm sure we have a manger or two for your convenience."

"I'm sorry, are you seriously making a Jesus joke right now?" You deadpanned as you stared at the King of Hell with an unamused expression. You had a hand on your stomach and you could feel Adam tense beside you.

"Get the fuck out of our way, Morningstar, your kid told us she would meet us here."

"Daddd!" Charlie yelled, running closer to the group at the front door. "I told you to let me answer the door!"

Lucifer at least had the grace to look sheepish. He moved behind Charlie, who happily welcomed you and Adam inside.

She grinned at you as she led you both to your room. "Congratulations by the way! So sorry about my dad, he always likes to try and push Adam's buttons."

"Fucking pussy," Adam muttered. You shot him a glare. "Stay away from him as much as you can."

"And ugh, Congratulations by the way! Adam told me all about it when he came to meet with me about you both joining the hotel! This is so exciting! And we have so many crafts and exercises and —"

"Hey, one fucking step at at time, Princess." Adam interrupted, sensing you tense at Charlie's words.

Charlie nodded and looked at you apologetically. "Sorry, I just get a little over-excited! We are so happy to have you here."

You smiled up at her softly. "We really appreciate you for letting us come to the hotel."

*

That night, you both lay in bed in your new home as you began your paths of redemption. Your head was on Adam's chest and you listened to the constant beat of his heart. Listening to the beat of the heart or pulse had always had a calming effect on you, even when alive. S1, S2, S1, S2, S1, S2

"Adam what if you get redeemed, and I—I don't. And I ruin everything. I don't deserve to be in Heaven."

"Why would fucking think that, Y/N. You deserve it more than anyone I know." He asked, his voice full of surprise.

"Because I killed someone!" You exclaimed, tears rolling down your eyes. "I was stupid and I killed someone and now I am meant to rot in Hell for all eternity. And I've damned our kid to this."

Adam wiped one of the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek. "And you don't think I have? Do you know how many sinners I've killed? Happily?"

"Adam, it's different."

"Try me."

You swallowed hard. "I was coming off of a 24-hour shift at the hospital. I was so tired. So fucking tired. And I knew better than to drive home. But my apartment was just 20 minutes away. And I thought it would be okay. I could have slept for an hour or two in the on-call room but I was so ready to get home."

Tears began streaming down your face at full force. Adam pulled you closer, surprisingly silent. "And then I fell asleep behind the wheel. I was only a mile from my house. I crashed into another car that had a mom and her kid in it. They died on impact. I was still alive, just barely, and bled out in my car before EMS could arrive."

"Y/N, you made a mistake. Fuck, I've made even more than that, definitely worse too."

"I just don't think I'm worthy of heaven."

Adam kissed your forehead and continued to hold you close. "Most of those fuckers who make it to Heaven aren't worth even half of you. You deserve Heaven. Shit, you owe it to yourself and Hellion to try."

"I'm just so scared Adam."

"I know. But we will take this one step at a time. Trust me, babe." He put a hand on your stomach. That had been one of his favorite things to do since the early days of your pregnancy. And Hellion seemed to know when their father was near, as you would get what you assumed were happy kicks in the direction of Adam's hand.

You nodded, cuddling in closer to him. One of his wings furled around you, creating a blanket for you and Hellion. You felt safe; warm. More so than you could remember feeling in a long time.

Everything would work itself out. And you and Adam would be redeemed just in time for Hellion to be born inside the pearly gates.

You found yourself focusing on Adam's heart once more.

S1, S2, S1, S2, S1, S2

Everything would be okay. It had to be.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts no. 24.5

Danny needed a place to live.

The Wayne manor had more rooms than anyone could know what to do with.

Had Danny been sneaking in to the Wayne manor uncaught for a three months now? Yep. Had he had a little fifteenth birthday party for himself with a cupcake and a candle in his new room? Yep. Was he proud of his appearent stealth? Yep.

Did he expect the butler to walk in on him in the middle of phasing his backpack back out of the wall?

Nope. Absolutely not.

The butler eased out of his look of shock like a veteran of wild shenanigans and bullcrappery, "May I inquire the reason for your visit?"

Danny, who was a panicking just blurted out, "I live here now!"

They just kinda stared at eachother before the butler laughed a little. "Alright then. Dinner will be served in two hours. Don't be late."

And with that he was gone. Danny groaned about his big mouth and decided to commit. Dinner was awkward and the butler, Alfred, made him introduce himself and he did so with a little wave.

Damian attempted to murder him with throwing knives which Danny caught and proclaimed were his now. The family all watched on as Danny wound Damian up and kept taking more weapons from him. Little bat looked like he was on the verge of either flying over the table at the teen or just having a stroke.

Steph and Tim were switching between asking questions and being menaces to society.

Jason was making quips at other people and being oddly friendly.

Duke was staring at danny with a look of horror for half the diner before awkwardly deciding to be friendly and hope whatever this thing was didn't bite

He and Dick were already workshopping puns together at the table in front of everybody. A fact no one but them enjoyed.

Bruce was asking vague questions to try to figure out what this kids deal was and how exactly he got past all the security.

Cass had successfully taught him a bit of ASL and they seemed to get along well enough. Especially once stealth was brought up. Turns out Danny likes to sneak around and he had almost been caught multiple times in the three months he'd been living here. All the family went silent.

"Did you say three months?!"

The whole family (sans Damian) works together both to get Danny to stay so they can get answers to questions and try to peace together wth is happening.

At first they thing Danny is going to freeload off of him only to discover he only came home right before the curfew Bruce set for him and heads out first thing in the morning. He usually only used the manor to sleep and shower.

It was Steph who found him first. He was handing out flyers as part of one of his many side jobs. Turns out he spent most of his time working.

He somehow managed to get Jason to help him buy a fridge. Danny paid for it entirely by himself, he just needed Jason to sign a piece of paper since he was a legal adult and Danny very much wasn't. Jason asked why the kid wanted such a huge fridge and he wasn't prepared for him to say he "wanted to stay out of the way as much as possible"

[httpiastri]

hiii congratulations!! could i please request a 🍈 with paul for just any of the comforting hug prompts? for after a bad race 🫶

🍈 – send me a driver and a prompt from this list of hugging prompts, these touch starved prompts, or these kiss prompts, and i will write a short blurb for you!!

author's note: thank you !!! :) hope you enjoy this post-hungary (tbh could be read as post-any bad race) angst/comfort thing. i chose prompts 22, 34, 28 & 39 <33

(also im tired asffff so this has not been properly proofread, sorry if there are any mistakes)

3k celly !!

it all started so well.

a good practice session and pole position. it was supposed to be a redemption weekend. but oh, how quickly things can turn around when you least expect them.

you've been fighting to keep your eyelids open for the past hour, the letters and words in the book your hands are holding long forgotten. dozing off seems like such a good idea, and you can hardly refrain from letting your eyes rest for just a moment...

but the little rattle of keys followed by the sound of the front door unlocking gives you a sudden spurt of energy again.

he's home.

there's a shuffle by the front door before it closes with a little click. your breath hitches in anticipation as you fold the corner of a page in your book, leaving it to rest on the bedside table while you listen for more sounds. his keys jingling as they're set atop the table by the door, heavy footsteps muffled by thick socks, a suitcase rolling down the hallway – every sound bringing him closer to you.

"why are you still up?"

paul lets his backpack fall to the floor with a thud, his expression hard to read as he looks over at you. in the low light of the bedside lamp, he looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes deeper and darker than usual. it's already late, way past midnight, but you really wanted to stay up and welcome him home, especially after the weekend he's just had.

this current season, paul has had a habit of always traveling home again the same night of his feature race; no matter how good or bad it went. he says it's because he misses you and wants to spend as much time as possible with you – but you also suspect that it's his way of escaping the pressures and expectations, especially after a harder weekend.

"i wanted to see you," you tell him with a guilty smile, blinking up towards him.

he pulls his hoodie over his head, throwing it in the direction of a chair in the corner of the room, leaving him in just his gray sweatpants and white t-shirt. when he steps closer, you move the covers out of the way and he slips onto the bed. then, it doesn't take more than a second before he's crawled into your embrace, chin heavy on your shoulder.

as your arms drape around him, he collapses completely into your touch and you can practically feel the weight of the weekend's disappointments and frustrations seep from his body. somehow, paul seems smaller than ever before, more vulnerable, as if the armor he wears so confidently around the track has been stripped away. you trace your fingers up and down his spine, hoping to absorb at least some of his burdens, and thankfully feeling the tension ease ever so slightly under your touch. you know that this moment is crucial for him; you know how much times like these help him rebuild his strength and slip away from the stress of the weekend.

you have so much to say. so many words of comfort, even more reassuring confirmations and gentle affirmations. you begin to pull away, but paul's grip on you remains firm, as if letting go of you would mean facing the reality he's trying to escape. "not yet," he mumbles into your skin. "can you... hold me for a little longer?"

you nod instantly, pressing a kiss to his temple before resting the side of your head against his again. "i won't let you go. ever."

right now, the only thing he wants is to be held, and you don't mind.

you know that sometimes, words aren't necessary.

sometimes, just being there, just holding on, is enough to make the world feel a little less heavy.

and being able to lift even just a little of that weight would be worth way more than a thousand words.

[thinkingofausername]

Mutual Misunderstanding (Astarion x Tav)

Summary: Tav has doubts after sleeping with Astarion and leaves him to wake up alone. He draws the worst conclusion.

A/N: This was my first attempt at writing a fanfic and MAN do I have even more respect for fic writers than I already did. This is based on a request/prompt of mine that I posted some time ago.

CW: mention of sex, insecurity, mental health issues, PTSD, mention of noncon, mention of vomiting, bad coping mechanisms, miscommunication, it all ends well though

Tav woke up with the bright heat of the morning sun on their face. They rubbed their eyes and stretched with a pleased sigh before looking at their surrounding. When their gaze fell on Astarion, something in them tightened their chest and pulled the corners of their lips into a small, giddy smile.

For a person doomed to have the sun as his enemy, he looked divine in its glow. His soft curls looked even whiter than usual, his face uncommonly peaceful. No smirk, no snark, just his features, so soft and off guard it caused a fondness to bloom in their chest.

His shirtless chest rose and fell calmly, though he needn't take any breaths at all. Some phantom need, or habit, perhaps. Though his skin was like marble, practically golden in the light, it arose no heat within them. They simply found him beautiful.

They recalled the previous night like a warm, panting, thrilling rush of glimpses. Though filled with passion led by quite an experienced person, they found themselves seeing it as quite... genuine. Astarion knew they haven't had many experiences in the sheets and that they found themselves at a loss at what to do. He gently took the reigns and they had felt genuine safety and care.

Like the sudden feeling of grass beneath their naked back as grogginess gives way for clarity, some overthinking, insecure voice reared its head and paved the way for regret.

All the caresses felt smooth as silk, how many others felt them? All the whispers and rumbles of his voice toyed with their heartbeats, how many others can recall that? All the promises of pleasure and consent reassured them, how many others have had their doubts quelled in such ways?

All that had felt so true and blissful was rapidly becoming nauseating. With all the countless "dances" of his, how can one know spontaneous steps from practiced ones? How could they be sure they were pleasurable enough, appealing enough, exciting enough? They felt a new chapter turning for the two of them, a genuine and loyal one. Now they weren't sure of anything. Now they felt foolish, naïve, played. Gods forgive them, they cared for Astarion so much, but that damned elven, bastardly, precious vampire had them feeling like a cheap one-night-stand. They couldn't blame him but they couldn't think either.

As quickly and quietly as possible, they got dressed and rushed back towards the camp.

When Astarion woke up, he turned on his side towards Tav's smell which still lingered and reached out. His eyes sprang open as his hand met only air and ground. It took him a second to gather himself, remember where he was and what he had been doing. He couldn't even think of the fact he had slept without a nightmare in gods know how long, or that last night was a rarity during which he was fully and gladly present. Any good feelings got thrust into the background as an all too familiar one washed over him.

He couldn't even tell if it was his voice or Cazador's ringing in his head. "You were weak. You put your guard down. You enjoyed yourself. You are a fool. You are a dirty, cheap body to be gripped and groped and thrown away. You are a temporary pleasure with no face and no voice."

If he had a mortal body, he surely would've vomited.

A too complicated clashing of reasonings overwhelmed him. "They used you, but of course they did. Why are you even surprised? You approached them for your own gain, why would you expect a transaction to turn into anything real? Just swallow your trivial feelings and move on." And yet on the other hand - he had felt it was becoming real. It never should've, he never planned for it, but it happened. He subconsciously gave it a chance and look where it got him. Feeling like a naïve fool.

He got dressed, doing it mechanically through memories of filth, bruises, a ringing in his ears and a painful and shameful throbbing between his legs. He walked back to camp, readying his charm on the way.

When he approached them in camp, it felt like a play. Like last night was an episode and they were now back on track.

"Hello, darling", he purred, "Was the walk here terribly difficult? I imagine after last night's... performance, your legs would be quite shaky."

"I'm... fine."

"Well... that's good to hear. We wouldn't want our precious leader experiencing any unwanted effects after sleeping with the nasty, suspicious vampire, now would we?"

Something felt so terribly wrong and regretful. They found no humor in his smirk, no charm in his expertly seductive voice. They just saw... hurt. Poorly disguised at that.

"Wait, Star, I feel like there's a misunderstanding here. Can we just-"

"Oh, so it's 'Star' now, is it? See that's funny, I thought nicknames and other such mushy things were reserved for couples, not late night trysts. But what would I know, after all I have bedded many a person but not one have I greeted in the morning, so don't take my word for anything."

It felt like everything was falling apart with no prior warning, like last night was a crucial moment and they missed out on some defining que.

"Astarion, can we please talk? Something's gone wrong here."

"Whatever do you mean, darling? Nothing's wrong. We had fun last night, lots of fun I might add, and now it is the next day, simple as that. There's nothing to talk about. Now, let's leave this dramatic business behind us and move on, shall we?"

"Astarion, I-"

"Darling, I think we've used our mouths more than enough last night, let's give them a break, yes?"

As he sauntered off, the sinking feeling rattled. In a matter of hours, it seems whatever they had built has managed to fall apart and put them back at the start.

Astarion had quite a talent for ignoring a person while giving them attention. It was the most ironic, painful thing they had witnessed in a long while. He responded, but they felt it would've hurt less if he had stayed quiet. He kept charming, and they yearned for every uncovered softness they had managed to receive from him.

Whenever they attempted to talk to him, either another companion needed them, or Astarion went on a hunt, or they needed to get moving. A few days passed when they got desperate.

"Astarion, we have to talk."

That was it, he thought. He was finally getting thrown away. He tried pretending everything was fine, but he knew that couldn't be the case. They had tasted the only valuable thing about him and they needed nothing else from him.

"Hello, my sweet." His voice almost shook. Gods, he can feel his throat getting tighter. "Do you need something?"

They were still struggling to understand what exactly happened between them, but all they knew at the moment was that Astarion seemed strangely nervous. Afraid, even.

"Easy, Star. I really just want to clear some things up."

"Well... did something happen?"

"Something did, I would just like to know what."

"Whatever could you mean, darling? Things have been perfectly fine."

"Star, please. There's been enough of this. We've been growing more and more distant after a night when we were closer than ever, it really doesn't make sense."

"Darling, if we were to get any closer than we were that night, we would become conjoined", he said with a strained chuckle.

"Okay...", they sighed, "I know that whatever we did some nights ago was a dance very familiar to you and so it likely meant nothing special to you, but it did to me. I'm sorry if I have managed to ruin things between us, but I just couldn't digest the thought of it meaning so little when it felt like so much."

"Oh no, no, no. Wait a gods damned minute, darling. I feel you might have mixed up our lines somehow. 'Likely meant nothing to me'? You're the one who was conveniently absent the following morning, or has the worm messed with my memory?"

He seemed shocked, a bit angry and against all his effort and hesitation, hopeful.

"I...", they huffed a sigh of realization with a small, self-deprecating smile. "It seems I misread your intentions. I'm sorry, Star, I really never meant to hurt you."

His relief was very apparent.

"It's alright, my sweet. I might've also, perhaps, let my dark thoughts get the better of me. It seems old habits truly do die hard. But just to be sure - that night... did mean something, to the both of us?"

"It certainly seems so."

"Well. That is good to know. I'm not sure where this leaves us though."

"Me neither. I've never really done things like this before."

"Reassuring news, truly. I was about to start feeling a bit... lacking, in the area."

"Then we can lack together."

"That doesn't sound so bad", he said with a chuckle and a softness in his eyes they had missed so much.

"Then let's raise an imaginary toast to figuring things out", they said with their hand raised as if holding a glass.

"You're positively ridiculous, my sweet. But yes", he said raising his own "glass", "and also to not leaving me to wake up alone on the dirt as if I had been robbed and knocked unconscious."

"That too. I really am sorry, Star."

"Oh, it's quite alright. Just don't do it again."

"Pinky promise?"

"Now you're overdoing it."

They chuckled as they finally felt the heaviness in the air between them dissipate.