#not like a rash or anything but your skin hurts

[sandersstudies]

What is the symptom called when you’re very sick and your skin hurts.

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite 06

The moment so many have been waiting for...

Also! I will no longer be accepting new ppl for the taglist for this series! If you wish to be alerted when i drop a new chapter you may choose to be notified when i post! Thank you :)

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

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Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter Warnings: Crying, nsfw content, Smut, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, mating, biting, begging, blood play(?), blood in mouths, reader is in heat, super possesive! Chan, knotting, angst, anxiety, cursing, tension in the pack, yelling, drama, Lee know being a dick

WC: 4.1k

MDNI 18+

Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 

You were dying. You were sure of it. The fire you felt in your body was killing you. You didn’t even register it when Chan gently placed you on his bed, suddenly overcome with the pure scent of him. 

“Alpha…It hurts.” your words coming out slurred.

He was by your side, one hand running through your hair, the other keeping a steady grip on the mattress- to keep himself grounded so as to not to do anything rash. 

“M’ here Omega. It’s gonna be ok.” His pupils were dilated the biggest they have ever been. 

“Hurts so much Alpha. Please please make it stop.” You were pleading -begging- him to make it better. There was one thing in particular you wanted. One word playing in your head on a loop. 

Knot

Knot 

Knot 

Over and over again, it was making you delirious. 

Your whole body was on fire. Boiling  through your bloodstream and radiating out of your skin. So hot you couldn’t breathe, the flames engulfing your lungs. I guess that's why they call it a heat. 

Chan had been excited to work you through your first heat together, he just thought he would have more time beforehand. No time like the present, though. 

“I’ll help you, omega. Your alpha will always help his sweet omega.” He cooed at you, his body slowly moving over yours, caging you under his built frame. 

The second he was settled over you, your arms shot up and forcefully pulled the back of his head down, capturing his lips against your own. Chan let out a grunt of surprise, not expecting this shy girl to be the one to take the lead. It’s not his style, but he would let you have it this one time. He would have plenty of time to train you later. 

You lifted your hips, looking for that bit of friction- any bit you could get. At the brush of your hips against his own Chan let out an almost inhuman growl. If anyone else had heard him let out that sound they would have pissed their pants, it was so deep coming from a place inside of him he didn’t even know existed . 

He let you grind into him while he savored the taste of your mouth. Your whimpers like music to his ears. When he had his fill of your mouth (tho really he never will) he sat up and hastily removed his shirt from his body then literally tearing into your tee shirt ripping the garment in half. He was more than eager to see all of his pretty omega. Your pants were next to go, seeing the same fate as your shirt and joining it on the ground. 

“Alpha.” There was that begging tone again, “Knot. Need it.” 

“Fuck baby. Ok ok Alphas gotcha” He shimmied out of his own bottoms, throwing his pants and boxers to the floor beneath. 

To say Chan was good looking was an understatement. He was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. His whole body toned from his years of discipline, his muscles rippling as you rake your nails across his abs. His cocky smirk gave his face a boyish charm but his sharp teeth reminded you he was a predator. 

And you were his prey. 

“Oh pretty girl. You have no idea of the naughty things I want to do to you.” He licked his teeth. 

“W-wan’ it Alpha. Wan’ it all from you.” Your words still slurring together in your plight. You would give him anything he wants. Your mind, body and soul - all of you, just MAKE IT STOP. 

Chan couldn’t hold back any longer, your words causing his self control to snap. His hands gripped your body, fully allowing himself to grind against your sex drawing helpless moans from you. 

Yes 

Yes 

YES

It felt so good, but it was not enough. You needed more. 

The alpha gripped you by the face then placed his finger against your bottom lip before slowly inserting the digit into your open mouth. He pressed down on your tongue as he collected the saliva that was accumulating, then pulled it out of your mouth and brought it down to your pussy. 

Chan used the finger to swipe through your wetness, the immediate sounds of your slick filling the air. 

“Fuck Baby you’re so fucking wet. Who made you like this, Omega?” He asked rhetorically. 

More tears escaped you, “A-alpha. Always you, my alpha.” 

Chan inserted his long finger into you, a wet gasp escaping you at the intrusion. Now it was his turn to moan. You were just so tight. Fuck, how was his cock going to fit? He would make it fit. 

“So good. Need more, Alpha. Need your knot.” Your eyes were pleading. Chans mouth left stray kisses down your chest, coming to your breasts where he took one of your nipples between his teeth, giving it a sharp tug. You felt a strike of pain at his actions, but it also felt so good- to be touched by him. 

“Mmm are you sure Omega?” He teased between bites, alternating between the two mounds. 

‘Perfect for feeding our children’ Chan could see it now, you with your breasts full of milk, leaking all over the place while you waddle around the house, his baby growing inside of you. The thought alone could make a grown man cry. 

“Yes!” You humped into his harder in response. 

“Ok baby. Alpha will give you what you want.” 

Chan grabbed his cock in his hand and rubbed the tip through your slick, collecting some of the drippage, before slowly pushing into you. 

The moan you let out was one of pure ecstasy.  Never in your life had you had something so big inside of you before. If you thought you were seeing stars before, it was nothing compared to now. Your nails found purchase in his shoulder blades, the indents turning red at how hard you pressed into him. 

“Nnnngggg '' Chan isn't faring any better. Since the moment he smelled you he had wanted to take you this way. 

“N-n-need you, alpha.” You choked out through sobs of pleasure. 

Chan buried his face into your neck, breathing heavy in your ear.

“Tell me you’ve never done this before, Omega. Tell me no other man has ever touched you like this. That no one else has taken you this way.” Chan needed you to say it, to feed his ego. 

“Tell me I’m the only one. Then I will give you all of me.” He nipped at the skin on your neck, so close to your mating gland. 

You answered without hesitation, “Only you, Alpha. Never anyone else. Only you.”

At your confession Chan growled, something absolutely primal escaping his body. The need to mark you as his feeding into his frenzy. He brought his hips back as far as he could, letting his tip just barely leave your hole, before thrusting into you harshly, his hips snapping into yours with vigor. 

“Fuccckkkk, Alpha. Please, please, please” You didn’t know what you were begging for, just that you couldn’t stop. The sound of your slick filled the room, as well as the smell of your combined scents. The liquid was literally dripping out of you, coating both your thighs and Chans balls. There was no room to care, though. Not with the way he was fucking you so nicely. His cock fit perfectly inside, filling every inch as if he was made for you. He was. 

His movements didn't slow at your whines, in fact they only increased. He was pounding into you like a rabid animal, letting you draw your pleasure from his body and in return feeding his primal urges. 

“ Gonna claim you Omega. Gonna let everyone know who you belong too.” He looked into your eyes for any hint of an objection but found none. You were too far gone to respond but somehow managed to nod your head, baring your neck in submission, waiting for him to claim his prize. 

At your submission Chans’ eyes glazed over and he opened his mouth to reveal those sharp canines. No more warning was given as he dove right for your neck, his teeth slotting over your mating gland and biting down. Hard. 

The sensation was otherworldly. You thought it would hurt, preparing for the pain that never came. Instead all you felt was intoxicating love. You felt loved, and wanted, and cared for. Like everything Chan felt for you was pouring out of him and into you. Without warning you came around his length, fluids spraying out of you and coating Chan's abdomen. 

The alpha released his hold on your neck after a few seconds, his tongue smoothing over the bloody mark left behind. His thrusts never faltered still, his driving into you gaining intensity as he neared his own release. Once your neck stopped dripping he pulled back from your neck, his lips covered in your blood. He pushed himself back on his haunches and hoisted your hips up further, his grip bruising your hips. 

Chan was panting as he spoke “ I am never letting you go. I have ruined you for anyone else. This pack is all you need, all you’ll ever need. Soon you won’t be able to breathe without us, Omega.” 

You had completely succumbed into a subspace, floating through nothing and everything all at once. You’re only thoughts consisting of him. 

“Wanna bite…” You mumbled out. “Wanna claim my Alpha.” The words were escaping you without you even registering you said them. 

Chans felt his knot start to inflate and he leaned down once more, “Do it. Claim me, Omega.”

In your daze your teeth found his neck and you bit down, his blood now filling your mouth. 

As your teeth sunk into him, Chan came inside of you. His knot inflated fully now, keeping him from thrusting any further, holding him against you. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck! Perfect little omega, love you so much.” 

His cum filled every crevice inside of you, coating you completely and spilling out around his cock. It was pure warmth. You were sure you would never tire of this feeling. 

When Chan had given you every last drop he tried to catch his breath, his lungs feeling like he ran 10 miles at full speed. 

You were slowly coming out of that mind space, now needing the comfort only your alpha could offer. You brought your hands up to rest on his cheeks, and inched your face closer to his until your mouths met again. The blood both of you had on your mouths mixing together on your lips, the taste of iron taking over completely. It wasn’t an unwelcome taste, but something about it felt dirty. Dirtier than the act the both of you had partaken in mere seconds before. 

Chan was the first one to pull back, you whining trying to keep his lips locked on yours. 

“Enough of that, Omega. Gotta’ make sure you're ok.” He gently rolled your head to the side to take a peep at the bite left behind. He let out a low whistle, “fuck, got you pretty good. M’ sorry baby.” He peppered kisses all over your face as an apology. 

“It’s ok alpha. Wanted you too.” Your clarity was returning to you slowly, your heat having been satiated for the time being. His thick knot kept you close to him. Suddenly all of your past actions were flooding your brain, the humility creeping on to you and you hid your face in his chest, a quiet sob emanating. 

Chan gave a noise of shock and the sudden appearance of your tears. Though he shouldn’t be surprised. His sweet girl seemed like she was always crying. Still, he had to make sure you were ok. 

“Aww baby, why the tears, huh?”

“M’ so so sorry, Alpha.” You sniffled, words muffled by his skin. 

“Sorry for what my love?” He was genuinely confused. 

You sniffed a few more times , trying to catch your breath before responding. “I’m sorry I acted that way… before with the other boys. I had no control over my own body, it just came on so suddenly. I know that’s no excuse but I really am so so sorry Chan. I would understand if you didn’t want me anymore. No one would want a sloppy Omega.” 

Your words filled him with a fury, harshly gripping your cheeks and turning your eyes to meet his own. 

“Did I say I didn’t want you, Omega?” You shook your head the best you could in his grip. “Then why would you think such a thing? I don’t blame you for what went down. I know you’re a sweet, shy little baby. And sweet girls would never behave that way on their own volition” Not yet anyways. 

The alpha gave you a quick peck. “No one will blame you or be mad. Especially not me. So stop saying shit like that. Like I already said - I am never letting you go. You are my true mate, were made for me. You belong to me now. Right omega?” He used your head to nod up and down. 

It was a possessive statement, and would have made any sane person want to run for the hills, but for some reason it just made you wet again. 

“Yes Alpha.” You whispered in lust, the intensity starting to return,  “I belong to you.”

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

The pack members took shelter at what they called the ‘safehouse’. It was a small apartment sized home at the very edge of the property. They used it when one of the alphas went into a rut or if one of the members just needed some space for some reason. The space wasn’t really suited for more than one, maybe two, people at most. But it was this or camping and at least this place had a small kitchen and bathroom. 

There was tension amongst the guys. A lot of them replayed the events of the day in their own minds. It had been a few hours since the incident. In his shame, Jeongin locked himself in the bathroom refusing to come out no matter how much Hyunjin had begged. Hyunjin, Felix and Seungmin had been filled in by a teary eyed Jisung. 

Jisung was in a daze. He had been sitting on the porch since they arrived, just gazing out into the trees that surrounded the estate. The crystal tears every once in a while cascading down his rounded cheeks. He felt like it was all his fault. You were with him when you went into heat. You were with him when Jeongin went for you. Fuck, it was him that took you straight for the young alpha. ‘I should have warned Jeongin. I should have called him and told him to get the fuck out of the house.’ 

The first thing Jeongin did when he got to the safehouse was lock himself in the bathroom and take the hottest shower possible, he needed to rid himself of your scent. Needed to scrub you off his skin, if he didn’t he was sure it would cause an early rut. That is the last thing he needed right now. The boy was filled with deep shame. ‘I can’t believe I acted like that’ he rested his head against the shower tile. ‘How will I ever face Chan again?’ He truly didn’t know what to do, so he will do the only thing he can do right now. Stand here under the cooling water, and wallow in his mortification. 

Minho, on the other hand, was fuming. To him all of this ordeal was avoidable. Aren’t omegas supposed to be able to sense their heats coming? And how convenient it was that you happened to have said heat almost as soon as you got there. To their home. A home full of unmated men. 

Chan had also filled him in the night prior, about Hongjoong and you being promised to him. Something about all these circumstances didn’t sit right with the beta. He didn't hate you, he knew deep inside that you had no ill will, he's pretty good at sensing that kind of thing in people. Minho just can’t help but be defensive over his pack. And is wary of things disrupting the peace within his pack. He isn’t an alpha, but Minho can be protective like one. He had tried to comfort Jeongin but the alpha had made it clear he didn’t want to be bothered at all. It was breaking Minho's heart. 

Changbin was outside trying to exercise the stress away. He felt the best option for him was to sweat your smell off of him. Really, working out was his answer for everything. He was fairing well enough, though there was a little part of his brain itching with the knowledge there was a pretty omega in heat not too far away. Best to ignore that little bit of information. 

The three remaining betas were at a loss for what to do. It seemed like everyone else was in their own little worlds, replaying what had happened over and over. Felix was trying to cook something up for the pack. His motto is food fixes everything so that's what he will do!

 Hyunjin had eventually given up on his mission to comfort Jeongin, his pleading being in vain, so his next target was Jisung. Hyunjin skittered outside and crawled into Jisungs lap, bear hugging the younger man. The moment Jisung registered the warmth he broke into a sob- burying his face into Hyunjin. “Its ok Sungie. That must have been a lot for you to handle by yourself.” Jisung nodded, the hiccups beginning. “You did such a good job, you got her home safe. You know that means the world to Chan.” At the mention of their leader Jisung cried harder. 

“It’s my fault, Hyun.” Hyunjin shook his head to disagree but Jisung continued “ I should have warned Innie. I could have called him or something.” 

“Nobody blames you Sung. Not a single person in this pack would dare put you at fault for anything. You did right by your pack. Chan trusted you with her and you did what you had too. When we eventually go back home I know he will tell you the same thing.” 

That seemed to perk up the younger beta, the tears coming to a slow stop. “Y-you think so, hyung?” 

Hyunjin nodded without hesitation. “Absolutely. It will be alright.” Jisung nodded along, hugging the older boy tighter. 

Seungmin was sitting on the small sofa in the living room, observing Minho who sat a few feet away scrolling on his phone with a scowl upon his face. Seungmin wondered if now was a good time to ask just what Minhos' problem had been. It was obvious something had crawled up the elders ass but Seungmin wanted to know what. Yeah the events of today are mildly inconvenient, of course he would rather have his own bed versus an air mattress but it's really not a big deal. And Jeongin would get over it soon enough. So what was Minho's problem? 

“So what’s your deal?” 

“Huh?” Minho looked up from his phone with a confused expression. 

“I mean, I know this kinda sucks and was a shitty situation but something has been up with you since yesterday sooooooo…” Seungmin gestured with his hands for Minho to explain himself. 

The elder beta rolled his eyes, “Nothing is wrong Seungmin. It’s been a stressful day, is all.” 

“Yeah fucking right. What about yesterday? When you called Y/n a ‘situation’?” He used air quotes around ‘situation’ for emphasis. 

‘Dammit, I should have worded it better then to avoid this shit.’ Minho thought bitterly. 

“Well if you can’t fucking tell Seungmin, she has become quite the situation now, hasn’t she? Look at what happened to poor Jeongin! Not to mention Han and Changbin.” Minho had been trying to keep his voice down but couldn’t help the slight raise. 

Seungmin scoffed, “They will all be fine. Those guys are more resilient than you think they are. It was a learning experience for everyone - next time will be different.” 

“Maybe next time she can give us a fucking warning.” Minho mumbled, not intending for seungmin to hear. He did anyway. 

“So you’re gonna blame her? She just met her true mate, not to mention all the stress she’s been in ya know , having to flee her fucking entire life. So yeah I imagine her hormones are all over the place.” 

The elder beta stood in fury, “How are you just so ok with all of this?! How has none of what’s occurring bothered you?!” 

“Why would our leader -our alpha-finding his mate bother me? Why would it bother me to know we now have the missing piece of our pack? I have no issues with her. Hell, I even like her. And I can say pretty confidently that the other guys like her too. So it seems the stick is only up your ass, Minho.” Seungmin stood too, he started this argument and he won’t back down. 

It seems both guys forgot Felix was a few feet away, listening to the entire conversation with baited breath. 

He had a bad feeling this would escalate if he didn’t get involved. The small beta appeared between the two with his hands up to diffuse the tension. 

“That’s enough from you two!” Felix was trying not to tremble at his own assertiveness. 

“Felix this doesn’t concern you.” Minho tried to shoo him away. 

“My pack mates are fighting, of course it concerns me.” Felix turned to Seungmin now “Why don’t you take a walk, please. Go clear your head.” Felix gave him pleading eyes. 

Seungmin looked like he wanted to refuse but only gave a sigh and a nod before calmly walking out the door, but making a show of letting it slam behind him. 

Minho let out a breath when the younger boy had exited. Felix now had turned his attention to only Minho. “ Can we have a calm discussion about what exactly made you feel like this, min?” 

Minho sighed, plopping back into his chair and putting his head in his hands. 

“It’s not that easy, Lix. There’s so much going on in here I don’t even know where to begin.” 

Felix being the sweet boy he is, came to sit on the armrest beside the older boy, and began to rub his back in comforting circles. “ You can tell me anything. I could tell since yesterday you haven’t been yourself. I just wanna help you Min.” 

At his words Minho unloaded all his thoughts and feelings onto Felix. Every doubt, every concern, all of it. Felix listened intently, letting Min get out everything that he has been holding on too. 

“I see where you’re coming from. It’s a big sudden change for our pack. And it definitely comes with some challenges. But it’s nothing we can’t handle.” Felix was trying to help as much as he could. “I really think once we get past this hurdle, our pack will be more unified than ever!”

“Don’t take this the wrong way Felix, but I feel like you're only saying that because you want a turn with her next.” Minho griped. 

Felix looked hurt for a second but didn’t let it faze him much. “Hyung, if you got to know her I think you’d change your tune. I got to spend some real time with her yesterday and from what I've seen she is actually really great. I’m not going to sit here and lie and say there’s not an urge for me to sleep with her because there is, but if she wasn’t an omega I know I would feel the same way about her.” Felix leaned into Minho. “All I’m asking is that you give her a chance. Don’t let this one slip up ruin your relationship with her. If not for me then at least try for Chan. He’s a good leader to us and he deserves your effort.” 

Minho knew Felix was right. He didn’t want to admit it but the younger beta spoke some sense into him. There was one thing still bothering him, though. 

“What about if the Ateez pack comes for her?” 

Felix didn’t seem worried, “If they come for our omega, they will see just how strong our pack is. They won’t lay a finger on our girl.” 

“Chan would kill them first.” They spoke in unison, then looked at each other and burst into laughter. 

A/N: Finallyyyyy getting into the dirty stuff!! Also I sincerely apologize for the angst :'), it gets better!! at some point.. Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

Taglist - closed

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[ceilidho]

exit, no entry wound joe bear graves x reader; part 1 (3.8k)

-

Local time at destination: 0500 hours.

And then the world rushes back to him like the culmination of a terrible dream.

Bear wakes up in another rosebush outside the front steps of the local library worse for wear. Blinking out of sleep-crusted eyes, shapes diverging in blurry unfocus before slipping back into material objects. A bench. A door. The thorny stems of roses already on their way out, already depetalling, the ground below covered in a thin layer of them. One petal even sticking to his cheek when he pulls himself off the ground, wincing at the branches that crunch around him, that tug against his skin and clothes.

His clothes smell of cheap liquor. Gin. Bourbon. It hurts to open his eyes, to sit up. 

“Morning, sunshine,” someone says. He remembers hearing it in his dream too. 

He looks to the source of his awakening, blanching when he notices the man staring at him.

Rip sits on the other side of the bushes on his haunches, looking deeply unimpressed. Hair slicked back for a change. “This what you get up to when I’m gone?”

Bear doesn’t respond. He struggles to his feet instead, hangover only just creeping in. Still drunk, to an extent. His knees threaten to buckle under him, forcing him to lay a hand flat on the wall to keep himself upright. One foot in front of the other. The walk home feels endless in the hour before dawn, hardly any light to guide him. 

“Pretty pathetic shit, Bear,” the man says, trailing along behind him. Not quite mockingly, but bordering on it. “Getting piss drunk and passing out in a bush? Really? C’mon, man. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

There’s no sense in responding, Bear knows that now. No sense in even turning around to look. One foot in front of the other. Stumbling home alone under the cloak of night, dawn just around the corner; terrified that one day he’ll have to see it—the sun coming over the mountains, over the horizon. 

It’s been less than a year. He hasn’t yet made his amends with God. Forgiveness sits outside of him. Not quite the right time to let it in. Maybe that time passed a long time ago, a small aperture that shuttered closed at the approach of his eyes. He missed it sometime between killing a boy and losing his mind.

A man cannot hold himself up on the scaffolding of the world alone. There has to be something beneath him. There is no sense in repeating the horrors of the world back to him; he’s already lived them. He’s got something of a Midas touch for death. 

The months have been long since the divorce was finalised, since Lena left for good, since Buckley died, since Rip—since it all went down. If he thinks about it for too long, it seems like a nightmare that he woke up from still mad about; a nightmare he had no choice but to drink himself into a stupor over to escape. That’s the reality of the world. 

“You know, Bear, you’re not the one that’s fuckin’ dead,” Rip spits as he follows behind, matching Bear’s stumbling gait stride for stride. “So you can stop acting like it.”

There’s a truth in Rip’s words and it leaves him feeling nauseous. There’s also a kink in his neck and a headache threatening to split his forehead open. In the belly of him, he has a truth that says that the firmament of heaven is beyond his reach. When he looks up and the sky is void of coruscating light, the meagre stars like an exit with no entry wound, it doesn’t surprise him. Of course there wouldn’t be anything there.

On a good day, his heart feels like it’s weathered a siege. 

“So she left you! It’s time to fuckin’ move on. Go to a bar—I mean, you already are, so step one done—and pick someone up. Go on Christian Mingle or something. You keep living your life like this and you’re going to wind up killing yourself. And then the fuck good that’ll do?”

It takes everything in him to not turn around and do something rash. Only the nausea keeps him from making any sudden movements. Even if he were to turn around and do something, his knees would probably buckle under him. Probably throw up the contents of his stomach. Not much in there either. It rumbles when he thinks that, clenching at the thought of food. Then it twists, the nausea returning. 

One foot in front of the other. The walk home takes twice as long, his whole body aching.

“Heard you almost quit. Wouldn’t be the worst idea you ever had. Let Buddha take over—he’s earned it. Get yourself a nice piece of land in fuckin’…Montana or something. Couple cows, maybe some chicken—you could get a dog, Christ. You look like a guy who’d have a dog. Why don’t you have a dog, actually? You would’ve told me if you didn’t like dogs, so it’s not that.”

His forehead is greasy when he touches it to rub his head. Body secreting poison in his sleep. Oily. The corners of his lips crack when he yawns. It’s not like he’s never thought about a dog, about having something to care for, another living thing in his house. 

But—

(“Bear? …I don’t think we should have a child.”)

What he wants often falls to the wayside, slides off him like a glancing blow. 

Her old, familiar shape appears at the sudden loss of a dream: one where Lena’s gaze lingers on him long enough to burn; but then it is the sun.

Bear watches dawn break. Sunday morning. In a different life, he would’ve squinted into the light of a new day and closed his eyes against it, curling into the slighter body tucked into his chest for another hour of rest. Felt the rise and fall of her chest. Woken up to a hot mouth on his cock or fingers curling in his chest hair, petal lips seeking him out. Church after that, showering off the remnants of their morning, solemn in their pews with their chests still holding the laughter of an hour previous. Light as air, as a feather. 

He won’t go to church today; hasn’t in months. Not with the guilt of missing it the week before trailing after him, each missed week compounding month after month. The cracks in his faith webbing. Splintering out like stepping on the lake when it freezes over in the winter, crunching under his boot until he holds his place. Conscious that it could break under his feet.

“I grew up with a dog,” Bear finally responds, voice hoarse. First thing he’s said since last call at the bar. 

“Yeah. Figures. What kind?”

“Black lab. We called her Daisy.”

It’s another lifetime ago. Still living in his parent’s house, Daisy curled by his dad’s feet, her favourite spot to sleep. Television playing at a low volume, mom at the kitchen table doing her crossword, ink bleeding into the side of her hand. It’s been a long time since Bear buried all of them. He’s buried countless people since. 

“What—can’t get another? One and done? That’s how everything works for you?”

Teeth raze across his skin again. Trust Rip to always cut to the quick. Finally back in his neighbourhood at least, the street empty apart from the cars parked in their driveways or along the sidewalk. Bear’s stomach rumbles something fierce now, entreating him to eat. Worse than hunger is how he’d kill for a glass of water though. Anything to settle his head.

“Haven’t wanted a dog,” Bear grumbles, then clears his throat.

“Yeah, you have,” Rip scoffs. Bear hears him kick a rock, sending it skidding across the asphalt. 

“Fuck off.”

Heart silicified in his chest, composed of fossilised shells and rocks and bones. It feels heavy in his chest. 

He turns down the street leading to his house. 

“Gotta let someone else in, Bear. Girl, dog—whatever. You can’t keep this up forever or it’ll kill you.”

When he turns around at the door, fishing in his pocket for his keys, the sidewalk beyond his house is empty. 

(So a man lies down and rises not again; till the heavens are no more he will not awake or be roused out of his sleep.)

Every Friday like clockwork, Bear stops at the diner down the street for a coffee and a slice of cherry pie before heading to the bar. 

Today is like any other. He leaves the house with only his keys and wallet and walks the long twenty minutes to the diner. Every time he fights the urge to drive, but there has to be something holding him in place. A reason not to throw it all away. 

It’s never completely empty when he shows up, but it’s never full either. His seat at the back of the room is open as usual, like they put up a sign before he comes ambling down the street that says Reserved for Joe Graves and then pluck it away before he opens the door. It’d be nice if that were the case. Nice to have something just for him for a change. The thought comes with its accompanying pang of shame. Desire is a dangerous thing; anything he’s ever wanted has come at him with sharpened teeth, clamping down on his leg and ripping through the flesh. Bear trap for old Bear. 

He slides into the booth and waits for someone to notice him. Never bothers to flag someone down—if it’s ten minutes or even half an hour before he’s served, that’s fine by him. 

“Hiya,” a clear voice says to his right, pulling him away from staring through the blinds out the window. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

The face Bear turns to meet is pleasant, smiling. Wide and untroubled. It’s not a face he recognizes though, despite months coming to this diner and becoming familiar with the staff. If he had to guess, he’d bet she only started a few days ago, maybe a week at most. She still has the sparkle of someone who hasn’t had the goodness beaten out of them yet. 

“Coffee,” he says, his own smile strained. “And a slice of pie.”

“Sure—we have key lime, blueberry, apple—”

“Cherry,” he interrupts, not letting her build steam. The wick in his chest burns too low for any conversation. The quick flicker of her brow makes the shame in his chest swell again. Forgive me sitting on his lips, unsaid. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I do this. 

She nods and scurries off to the back, skirt swishing with her movements. Bear notices only because his eyes get stuck there, somewhere between the curves of her hips and the roundness of her ass. When he realizes where he’s let his mind wander, he pulls it back, flattening his lips into a hard line. Any sort of indulgence feels wrong, a taking that shouldn’t be taken. He hasn’t even begun to pay penance for all the damage he’s wrought. 

It’s only on her way back that Bear notices the small bump protruding from under her apron. His mouth goes dry. When she reaches him again, he wordlessly accepts the cup of coffee and her reassurance that the pie will be out in just a minute. For a moment, he can hardly meet her gaze, eyes locked on the gentle curve of her belly, caught off guard in a way he hasn’t been in months. 

The first thought with any clarity is, what is she doing working here? A crummy diner on a Friday night. Down the street from an even sleazier pub. His second thought is to look outside at the poorly lit stretch of road and think that this is no place for a pregnant woman to be alone. He recognizes each car in the parking lot save one, likely hers. Drove herself here with the expectation of driving herself home at the end of the night.

If it had been Lena—well, he never would’ve let it be Lena, but if it had been, Bear can’t imagine letting his pregnant wife drive herself home in the middle of the night. Can hardly stomach the thought. 

She’s not Lena though, so he has no right. 

She’s gone before he has time to say anything else, skirt swishing behind her. It catches his eye again. When he tears his gaze away for a second time, he swallows back the metallic taste of self-loathing. It curdles in his mouth. It’s the sign telling him to stop coveting, stop looking out into the world and wondering what he can take. It’s his hamartia, his fatal flaw; thinking himself above the reproach of God. Thinking that he can kill, fuck, curse, and stray farther and farther from the light only to find his way back in the dark. 

The bell above the door rings when someone else comes in and Bear tenses. His shoulders only relax when two older women step in and head to a table. 

He watches as she picks up a plate from the pass-through window and heads back towards him. When she places it in front of him, he draws a deep breath in, trying to catch more than just the aroma of fresh baked cherries. 

“Here we go…one slice of cherry pie, straight out of the oven.”

“Thanks, honey,” Bear rumbles, smile finally meeting his eyes. 

“No trouble. The guys in the back said they make it special for you. Joe, right?”

That gets him to levy her with the full weight of his attention. The thought of her asking about him. “I go by Bear.”

“Oh. Alright, Bear.” She twists the word around in her mouth and seems to find it satisfying. “I think I’ve heard your name before. You were—I mean, you’re part of Pastor Adams’ parish, right?”

He clears his throat, cutting off the triangle point of his pie with the side of his fork. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Me too,” she confides, voice a low whisper. A secret between strangers. She doesn’t glance around though, doesn’t bother to draw out the ruse. “Or, I was, anyway. Haven’t been to service in awhile. I, um…I remember you. From a year or so back. You and your—um…you and your wife used to always sit up at the front.”

The fork scrapes against the plate. “Ex-wife.”

He catches her wince from the corner of his eye. “Oh. Sorry. You just—” She doesn’t have to say it. The slight dip of her eyes tells him all he has to know, and besides, it’s his own fault for still wearing the ring. Even with the paperwork signed and dated, even with Lena in another state now, starting a new life without him, the thought of taking it off makes him break out in a cold sweat. 

“It’s not—” Bear starts before giving up. He curls his fingers into a fist on the table. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. Not a big deal.”

She fidgets in the silence. Bear can’t bring himself to break it or make the atmosphere less oppressive. He tenses under it, the ache in his low back worsening. These days, he always aches. Nerve damage, a disc on the verge of slipping, an old ankle injury that flares up whenever he goes running. A ghost that follows him from haunt to haunt. The ring on his finger is just another old ache. 

“So, uh—” he clears his throat, nodding to her belly. “Your first?” 

It’s inappropriate, hardly his place to ask. Incredibly intrusive for someone he’s met for the first time, a stranger just trying to do her job and serve him coffee and pie before he goes off to drink himself half to death again at the dive bar down the road. 

Still, he asks. 

Only the faintest wrinkle of her nose betrays any embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. First one.”

“Congratulations.” It’s sincere. The envy in his gut is old, but it’s a manageable pain. 

“Thanks,” she says, with a small, private smile, hand resting absently under her belly. “I’m excited. I’m only a couple months along, but, uh…it’s been a journey. Just me and baby against the world, you know.”

That stops him in his tracks. Screws up the whole course of his evening because suddenly the sound of the bell over the door jingling doesn’t draw his attention away. It stays fixed on the smiling girl to his right that just opened her mouth and said something unacceptable. 

“Where’s the dad?” he asks, far too bluntly. 

She shrugs. “Somewhere. Didn’t stick around long enough to tell me where. It’s fine though—I’ve got my little peanut. That’s all that matters.”

“You told him and he left?” 

The pie sits cooling in front of Bear as a pit in his stomach opens up. It’s a terrible, empty hole that holds truths like the fallibility of the body and the good shouldering the burdens of the world.  

He only regrets being so direct when her lip quivers, a little motion that betrays her until she wrests control over her face again. “It’s not his fault. I don’t think he was—well…you know, it was a surprise.”

“That’s—” he struggles to find his words, “—that’s not right.”

Again, she shrugs. “That’s life.”

Bear feels his eyes go hard. A coldness settles under his skin. 

In the deep, dark gut of him, only anger lives. He spends his days questioning why God has allowed everything else in his life to fall apart, has allowed countless other people to die, but refuses, for reasons unbeknownst to him, to kill him. He’s given him enough opportunity and enough reason. 

The answer he circles back to time and again is the same. An eye for an eye. Divine wrath. The litany of his sins could be sung until the end of time and there’d still be more to sing. It’s only right that there would be consequences for him. 

The rage that simmers in his blood now is twofold. It begins with the sharp pang of injustice, of witnessing a punishment meted out to someone innocent. The girl standing by the booth he’s shoved himself into, almost too small for a man of his size, cannot be deserving of the same punishment that he’s brought upon himself. She has never killed. The babe in her belly has never killed. The two of them should never have to meet at the point of two paths converging with the likes of someone like Bear and proceed down the same road together. 

Then it sinks into a familiar territory. A place at the core of him where righteousness gives way to envy, as it always does. After what he's been through, the thought of someone having everything that he's always desperately wanted handed to them on a silver platter and then sending it back leaves him feeling a bit off-kilter. Not quite right. 

“Bear?” Her voice breaks the silence. When he blinks, concerned eyes stare down at him, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he rasps, dragging a hand down his face. Shaking it off. “Sorry, I—got lost in my head. Sorry.” 

“That’s alright,” she says, again gentle in her voice and smile. “Easy place to get lost in, isn’t it?”

He makes a sound in acknowledgment. Drags the silence out. Her mouth twists shy under his scrutiny. 

“Anyway, I have a few other tables to get to, if you don’t mind. Enjoy your pie. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

He eats his slice of pie in silence as she leaves, eyes following her to her next table. Rage still sizzles under his fingertips. It makes his hands shake, old nerve damage and anger problems. 

It’s like a gun punch to think of her all on her own. It’s not right. For someone like him, well, it’s—deserved, earned. Inevitable, even. Every step taking him further away from grace, from its light. No one who knows his story would think otherwise. 

She’s a pretty thing though, this new waitress. Too tired, the bags under her eyes testament to that, no matter how well she hides them with makeup. Slightly puffy anyway, maybe from a lack of sleep or too many tears. His stomach aches at the thought. It must have come as a shock, the bottom of her world dropping out from under her when the baby’s father took off. Dragged away from the church not through her own doing, but the fault of another. Not her shame to bear, and yet. 

He forces the pie down. Bites that taste like nothing, 

Bear hears the lilt of her voice from two tables over. “Refill on your coffee, hun?” 

A supplicant sits in his place as he sips his coffee. The hour slips by into the next and it starts to come together in his mind. Why he's been forced down this long road alone, why God hasn't struck him down yet despite every terrible thing he's done. His eyes follow her flit across the diner, the light seeming to bend around her like a halation. 

When Bear looks across the room at her, he thinks, Lord, do not think I am waiting patiently for your hands. Every part of me trembles with anxiety.

(O Lord, show me I can fall apart together again; but not just yet.)

He stays until the last customer has finally left, waiting for her to come back to his table with an apologetic smile. When she does, Bear hands her his empty plate, watching her take a step back when he scoots out of the booth, rising to his full height. He makes note of the way her eyes round as they follow him up. Taller than her, unsurprisingly. Surprising though, the way her bottom lip droops just the slightest bit. 

“Is it just you closing up?” he asks, voice a tad too gruff. He clears his throat again, looking around for anyone else. 

“Well, the chef’s cleaning up in the back, but, uh—” she looks around the diner, conspicuously empty apart from the two of them. “Yeah. Just me.”

Bear gestures with his chin towards the door. “I’ll wait ‘till you’re done, then walk you to your car.”

“Oh, Joe—”

“Bear,” he corrects.

“Bear,” she amends, fingers twisting together now. He relishes the sound of it on her lips. “You don’t have to. I’m used to it, honestly. I know I just started here, but I’ve done closes before, you know.”

“I’ll wait outside.” A statement now. Stubborn. He’s always been a bit mulish, hard to shake off. 

He can tell the second she relents, shoulders slumping. “Alright. I shouldn’t be too long…you can leave if you get bored though. Won’t blame you.” 

He fights the urge to tilt her head up by the chin to make her meet his eyes. Just barely restrains himself. 

Leaning against a tree out front, he twirls the ring around his finger as he watches her clean up. For the first time in a long time, he slips it off.

[lokis-army-77]

OK, so I know I *could* write this, but my WIPs are ridiculous, and you wrote Demon Eddie so well that he lives rent free in my head.

I was thinking Incubis Eddie, where reader thinks shes just having very horny dreams with this thing, and then he visits her when he thinks she's asleep but she's not...

Feel free to add your own flavours, or ignore this horny thot entirely up to you babe x

Hunger

Incubus!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 2k

A demon awaits you in your room when you arrive home from a night out.

Warning: 18 +. multiple orgasms, some licking (f reviving), fingering (vaginal and anal), CNC?, some hair pulling, blood.

And thank you to @lofaewrites for beta reading 💗

Masterlist

He had started showing up in the dark corners of your room only a month ago. It was after you had watched some horror movie with a friend and instead of being afraid like every normal person in the theater, you were turned on. 

In the dreams you had of him, you weren't scared either even when he came into the light and bared his two rows of needle-sharp teeth, even when his horns made him appear taller and the wings stretching from his bare back made him look broader. 

Each night he visited you was another wonderful exploration of your wants and desires. You couldn't get enough of him and when you woke only to find that the pleasure and the pain had all been a dream, you sulked to yourself as you missed the feel of those long, clawed fingers scratching at your skin.

You had come home way later than you usually would on a weeknight. Only coming through your front door at around three in the morning. A long-time friend of yours had gotten married and the reception had gone on longer than you would have liked. The bride and groom had left at around twelve but the party raged on without them. You called it quits when the ache in your feet could no longer be ignored and instead of conversation, all you could do was yawn. 

Trudging through your front door you kick your shoes off and throw your bag onto the table in the entryway. You’re exhausted and all you want is to go to bed.

As you walk through your house, everything seems normal, until you flip the lights on in your bedroom. You freeze when you see it. A dark mass by the head of your bed bent over and pulling at the clumped-up sheets. 

The creature whips around, its hair falling into its face as it growled. Its wings spread out to make itself look bigger and it bared its rows of sharp teeth.  You take a step back, fear gripping onto you. But then, as you look at the strange form, you are met with a familiar feeling. This wasn’t a strange creature, no it was what visited you in your dreams. 

Confusion fell over you then. He was just a dream. He wasn’t real so why were you seeing him in your room? You don’t remember falling asleep anywhere. Shaking your head, you pinch your arm, thinking it might wake you up like it does in the movies but all you feel is the sharp pain it brings to your forearm. 

Cautiously, you take a step forward, hands out, showing the creature you didn’t intend to do anything rash. “Hello,” you speak softly. His eyes slit as he stares at you. “Uh.. what are you doing here?” You ask. He had never really talked to you in your dreams before but it didn't hurt to try. 

“You aren’t supposed to be awake.” He answers, voice deep. 

 You take a deep breath. "What do you mean?" you ask.

He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again. "You know what I mean."

When he steps toward you, you step back, only to run into the door. Where there should have been a sense of dread, there was only a spark. A tingling sensation coiling up inside of you the closer he came.  

He reaches out his hand, claw-like nails giving him a more sinister look, and brushes back the strands of your hair that had fallen out of the updo you had been wearing for the wedding. You shiver when you feel his nails tickle your skin.  

You can feel your heart beating faster as he shuffles closer to you, his larch body towering over yours. A gasp leaves you when he unexpectedly grabs you and hoists you over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” Your voice wavers as he walks you over to the bed and throws you down. Your body bounces at the force and once you settle, you try to back away from him. 

He huffs, frustrated. “You aren’t this much of a hassle when you’re sleeping.” He takes hold of your ankle and drags you back down the bed. You try to wriggle free, but he is too strong. He grabs the other ankle and pulls you towards him, trapping you between his body and the mattress. He presses his body against yours, his hands roaming over you. 

You can’t help the flood of arousal that washes over you as you struggle against him. He’s smirking like this is a game to him and it’s only making you more flustered. 

Leaning down, his lips press into yours and his tongue slips inside your mouth. It’s forked, just like in your dreams, but now, with what little he’s said, you wonder if they were really dreams at all. 

The kiss is fierce, full of strong emotions and wandering hands. He tugs on your dress and you can hear the fabric beginning to tear. You try to pull away and to stop him but he’s so much stronger than you. 

You feel the needle-sharp tips of his teeth nip you, drawing blood from your bottom lip. He laps it up, humming at the metallic taste. Your fingers drag lines over his back and sides as you fall deeper into the feral, primal instincts now controlling you. 

His hardened length can be felt pressing into your thigh as he ruts into you. His kisses are rough and desperate, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pulls you closer. He whispers in your ear, "Let me take what I need and I will let you sleep.” 

You’re nodding before you can stop yourself. The growing need for him is too much to resist now. 

The creature hums, satisfied at your submission. Soon, your dress is finally ripped off of you, along with your undergarments. You are left completely bare to him, nipples pebbling in the cool air of your room and thighs snapping shut at being so exposed. 

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest and he’s quick to open your legs up. Long, deft fingers trail down your exposed skin, goosebumps coming up in their wake. He takes his time, coaxing you into a more relaxed state with gentle caresses and warm lips sucking marks into your skin.

“Ah.” A moan leaves you when you feel him bite at your collarbone. Tiny pinpricks that draw the smallest amount of blood. His tongue laved over the wound and he let out a groan. 

His hand finally reaches between your legs and you let out a cry of relief when his thumb rubs over your clit. His other hand moves up to cup your breast, his fingers teasing your nipple. His mouth moves over your neck and he whispers in your ear, “You are so sensitive.” His fingers slid through the wetness faster over your clit. 

Your hips move in tandem with his hand, bucking and writhing. He lets you take what you need.  His fingers move faster still as you begin to moan and gasp. His other hand moves down to your hip and grips as your body jerks with each wave of pleasure. “Fuck-” you breathe. You can feel the all-too-familiar sensation pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“That’s it. Give it to me.” He whispers into your ear as your back arches and your toes curl.  

Your breath hitches as your body tenses. Your voice breaks and you cry out in pleasure as you reach your peak. His grip tightens as you collapse onto the bed. 

The creature moans into your neck and he keeps rubbing his fingers into you, slowly moving them down from your clit to circle around your soaking-wet entrance. You whimper in his strong grip. 

“Please,” you gasp. He doesn’t stop, he pushes two of his fingers into you, pulling a wail from your lungs. You are clamping down around him, cunt practically sucking his fingers. 

There are squelching sounds coming from the fluid motion of his fingers roughly bounding into you. Your pleas and moans accompany the sounds and it’s like music to the creature's ears.   

He fingers you with abandon, pushing and pulling with force and speed. Your orgasm builds with each thrust of his fingers, your pleasure becoming more intense with each passing second. Your body goes rigid in his hold and as you cum for a second time. 

“No more,” you mumble, spent and exhausted. 

You hear him chuckle, “I’m not done with you, pet.” 

When his fingers leave your used cunt, a whine leaves you at the loss and you feel yourself clamping down around nothing. He is turning you onto your stomach before you know it. Your head is buried in the sheets and your body lies like a board. 

With closed eyes, you can only assume what he is doing behind you as you feel his body atop your own. Thick fingers push apart the fat of your ass to expose you. The tickle of his hair as he leans down to lick a thick stripe from your pussy to the tight ring of your ass makes you twitch, a small bit of exhausted laughter pushing through you. 

He pulls back and you can feel his thumb toying with your ass, circling and pushing in just slightly. He has moved to his legs are on either side of your closed thighs. You can feel the hardness of his cock resting along the seam of where your legs meet. He’s hot and leaking pre-cum. 

Wiggling your hips, you encourage him to keep going. He then guides his cock closer, pressing the tip through the sticky wetness and into your waiting pussy. 

You moan into the bed at the stretch, hands gripping the sheets. He’s so big that he makes you feel so full without being completely inside you. 

He keeps pushing into you, grunting and hissing at the feel of your cunt spasming around him. Once he is fully sheathed inside you he begins to piston his hips. In and out in and out. He’s fucking you at a brutal pace. Giving you pleasure but also taking what he wants from you. 

His thumb is still circling your ass but as he keeps going, he finally pushes past your tight rim. You cry out into the open air of your bedroom. His thumb is thick and stretches you open where you have never been stretched before. 

“Fuck, yes.” You mumble into the sheets below. 

He grins. “You like that pet? Like when I use this pretty ass?”

You nod, hair tangling under your face as you do. “Yes, yes, yes.” It's the only word you can get out of your mouth. 

Listening to your words he begins to thrust his thumb in and out of you at the same unwaveringly fast pace that his hips have set. 

You can’t help the guttural groan you let out. It’s all becoming too much. So many sensations are filling your body, some familiar and others new. The strings of your orgasm have been pulled taut and are slowly breaking one by one. Your fists clench and your legs spasm. The creature reaches to your head and pulls on your hair at the base of your neck. Your head is forced up and with a half cry half moan, you cum around him as he releases thick stream after thick stream into you. 

As he keeps himself buried within you, he leans down and bites at your ear before speaking. “I may have to visit you when you are awake again, pet. You take me so well.” 

He pulls out and moves away, fast and unexpectedly, leaving you to drop, spent, and used on the bed. You turn slowly to look for him but your eyes find him nowhere in your room. It was empty, he had vanished into thin air. 

Soon he will return, hunger no longer sated by the sexual energy that you have given him tonight.  

[cameronspecial]

let me, angel hurt to comfort with fluffy ending?

Let Me Help You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Fall Down The Stairs, Blood, Swearing and Stitches.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

A/N: I didn't know what type of hurt you meant so I went with physical hurt.

Masterlist

Y/N is the safe one out of the two. While Rafe is the reckless frat boyfriend, Y/N is the cautious science girlfriend. But even with all her carefulness, her clumsiness can cause her the same amount of pain as Rafe’s rashness. She has been waiting in Rafe’s room while he is in class and his filled hamper catches her eye. They may have been dating for five months, but she still likes to help him with his chores to impress him. She picks up the heavy bag and lugs it out of his room. The frat house’s stairs have always caused her a little discomfort. They are old and rickety, always scaring her when she goes up them alone. His hamper is heavy for her and she worries about going down the stairs with it. She could ask one of Rafe’s brothers to help her, yet she wants to do this by herself. It was a mistake. 

As she tries to take the next step, she catches the edge of it. She jerks forward and the hamper behind her comes down with her. The weight of Rafe’s clothes pushes her down the stairs. She falls to the bottom of the steps with a loud thwack of her head against the banister. The brothers in the house all run toward the source of the sound and panic once they see Y/N crying at the bottom of the stairs. Her hand is covered in blood as she tries to stop the bleeding from her head. “Shit, Y/N. Are you okay?” Kelce worries, approaching the girl to try to help her. She flinches away from his touch. “No, don’t touch me. It hurts,” she sobs. Dylan steps forward also offering her aid. She again moves away from the touch, “No! I want Rafe.” At her words, Jaiden pulls out his phone and dials the frat’s president’s number. 

He had already been on his way home when he got the call, but the news that his angel was hurt and in need of him caused him to speed home. He runs into the house to see a group of people surrounding Y/N. “Move out of the way,” he instructs the crowd. He rushes over to her and sees the blood. “Holy shit, Angel. That is a lot of blood. Come on, we have to get you to the hospital,” he orders, picking her up and jogging to his car. She nuzzles her head in his neck, “It hurts so much, Rafe.” “I know. Let me help you, Angel. I’m going to get you to the hospital. They are going to make you feel all better,” he assures. She doesn’t say anything as he drives away from the fraternity house. 

—

Y/N’s hand grips Rafe’s as the doctor sews the stitches into her head. It kills Rafe to listen to the soft whimpers she lets out as the needle pierces her skin. Once the doctor is done, she rests her head against Rafe’s chest. “Thank you for getting home so quickly and letting me hold your hand,” she whispers, kissing his chest. He looks down at her with a smile, “Of course, I will always be here to comfort you, Angel. I love you.” “I love you too, Rafe. I’m actually a little embarrassed with how I handled things. I was such a crybaby about it.” He shakes his head against hers. “No, you weren’t. You were in pain and you reacted appropriately. If anyone else dares to say otherwise, I’ll have a talking with them,” he jokes. This tugs a giggle out of her and they start heading over to the desk to get her discharged.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama

[leaentries]

out of line | nico hischier

summary: when his girl finds the ring, it doesn’t end like he had hoped.

warnings: mostly angst, swearing, this does have a happy ending (im sorry i couldnt leave my babies in dispair)

wc: 1.9k+

a/n: i’m sorry in advance, i feel like i don’t write angst that well…but i hope you enjoy regardless

the captain’s girl masterlist

Heaviness lay in thick blankets around the room, almost like the inches of sand that covered the expanse of beach outside. Your throat felt tight at the intense gaze Nico was blazing at you. It wasn’t often the two of you fought, but it sure hurt like hell when you did.

Shuddered breaths heaved in your chest, hands pricking at your nails. It all felt like a nightmare. Except, you weren’t waking up.

Tension had been rising for days, emotions only growing as you and Nico danced around each other. You had refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room, or rather, the ring.

You loved Nico, with everything in your being, but you weren’t ready for marriage. Not yet anyway. Nico had always seemed so understanding about you choosing to wait a few more years before doing anything rash. Yet now, you weren’t so sure.

With Nico inviting you to come along for the trip during bye-week, you couldn’t have been more ecstatic. The thought of being able to spend an entire week with your boyfriend was like a breath of much needed fresh air. And it was, for the first few days.

At least until Wednesday.

❥.

Nico had gone out with some of the guys, promising to be back by 4 at the latest. Not that you minded much, getting the very nice and very expensive villa to yourself for a while was enticing.

After an hour or so in the sun, you decided to take a little break and use the giant bathtub that had been screaming your name since you had arrived. Grabbing your bag and some clothes, you made your way to the en-suite, making sure to leave the door slightly cracked, just in case Nico got home.

You turned on the faucet, making sure the water temperature was just right, before stripping yourself and sinking into the welcoming space. Closing your eyes, you sunk your body lower into the water, until it brushed against your chin with any movement. The motion of the slight waves was like a massage to your sore, sun-burnt skin.

You remained in the tub until the water ran cold and your skin began to get pruny. You pulled the drain, before carefully getting out and wrapping yourself in the closest towel. Walking over to the counter, you rummaged through your bag, trying to find your face wash, yet coming up empty handed.

You rolled your eyes, realizing you must have left it somewhere. Although, it was just a minor inconvenience, since you and Nico both used the same brand, so you weren’t worrying too much.

Squatting down to open the cabinet under the sink, you pulled out Nico’s black bag, quickly opening it to find the familiar bottle. You began to pull stuff out, before a little velvet box fell onto the tile beneath you.

Your breath caught in your throat, hoping it isn’t what you think it is. Nico knew you wanted to marry him, but not now, not during the peak of his career and your schooling. It just wasn’t what you saw for yourself. Shakily reaching down to grab the box, you stood up, scared to open it.

You almost opted to put it back, knowing that if it was an engagement ring, your relationship would never go back to the way it was. This would bring up a new wave of emotions and obstacles. It would open up a door you didn’t know if you could close.

Bracing yourself against the counter, you slowly opened the box. Gleaming back at you, in all its glory, was the most beautiful ring you could have imagined. It was the perfect ring. But this only made it hurt worse. Just picturing Nico picking out a the cut of diamond you had always wanted, or the band color, had your heart clenching with sadness.

You knew you were gonna have to talk to him about it, before he did something that neither of you would be able to walk away from unscathed.

It was the only option to save your relationship. To save Nico.

Sighing, you swiftly get dressed, placing the box back on the counter, hoping that Nico would realize you had found it. Now this may seem cowardly, but it was truly what you thought would be best. At least then, the blow would be softer than a straight out rejection.

You figured that if you prompted him to bring up the ring, the conversation would be easier. Only, he never brought it up. You could tell he knew, by the way he was so cautious with anything he did around you past 48 hours. This only caused your heartache to worsen.

Eventually, the tension came to a boiling point. Having just got home from a private dinner, you can’t help but feel as though Nico had originally planned for more to come from that picture perfect beachfront sunset. Deep down, you didn’t need to guess, you knew.

This was the night Nico was supposed to propose.

You felt conflicted as you entered the living room in silence. On one hand, you felt relieved he didn’t get down on one knee, yet on the other, you felt guilty for hoping the man you loved wouldn’t confess his undying loyalty to you. Your chest tightened with emotion.

“Can we not do this anymore?”

Nico’s voice rang out, interrupting your battling thoughts. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Not do what, Neeks?”

“Not sit here and pretend you didn’t find the ring, or that I wasn’t gonna propose to you.”

There it was. The bomb finally dropped. With those few words, the harsh truth of the situation became real. All of it did. No matter how hard you tried to remain in denial, or refuse to acknowledge it, reality always finds a way to bite back.

You bit your lip, contemplating on how to begin voicing your side, “Nico, what you need to understand is-”

He cut you off, “I do understand, Y/n. But you told me about your whole “plan” 2 years ago when we first got together.” His chest heaved with despair, “I thought you’d change your mind by now.”

“My plan? My plan was never going to change. You can’t be upset with me, when you were the one who assumed I’d say yes.”

Nico felt his heart shatter at your words, anger quickly began to boil through his veins, “Of course I’d assume you’d say yes,” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “I mean, fuck, we live together. We do everything with each other. I’m sorry for wanting to take that step with you, truly I am.”

His sarcasm didn't get lost on you. Scoffing, you turned away from him.

“Nico, you’re not listening to me-“

“What’s there to hear?” He cut you off once more, arms flaring into the air, “That you don’t want to marry me? God forbid someone actually wants to love you.”

You spin back around, tears springing to your eyes, “You are so out of line right now, Nico.”

Yet, your shaky tone did nothing to calm him.

“How am I out of line? For loving you?”

Disbelief was written all over your face. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the intensity of it all. Nico’s harsh comments pelted through any sort of resolve you had left. Never once did you think Nico would say something like that. Especially knowing your past. It stung worse than any pain you could imagine. 

“T-That’s not fair,” You quivered, “And you know it.” 

Nico’s tense form deflated at your meek voice. The anger that once flowed through him like hot lava, has now receded, leaving nothing but spiky coldness and depression. He felt lost, plagued by the possibility of not spending the rest of his life with you.

He gingerly walked across the room, now standing directly parallel to you, “Why?” His voice was distant and cracking under the weight of his emotions, “Why won’t you marry me, schatzi?”

The use of the familiar nickname was enough to break you. Sobs wracked through your body, knees becoming shaky. Nico immediately engulfed you in his arms, cradling you against his chest like it was the last time he’d ever feel you. You felt Nico’s own tears fall freely, the hurt grasping you both. Heavy cries left Nico’s chest, only furthering your guilt. 

“I’m so sorry, Nico!” You blubbered hopelessly, “I love you so m-much, I just,” Your sentence was cut short by the rapid hiccups in your breath. 

Nico’s hands moved to gently hold your face, pulling it to meet his bloodshot eyes. His cheeks were red and puffy, wet tracks trailing down to his chin, but you knew you didn't look much better. He tried his best to calm your breathing, even through his own unsteady gasps. After a few minutes, you found yourself composed enough to continue. 

“I don’t know,” You admitted weakly, “I don’t know why I don’t want to marry you, Neeks. I’m just not ready, yet.”

Nico took a second to mull over your words. He dropped his hands from your face, leaving you distraught at the possibility of him being even more upset. He quickly turned, retreating to your shared bedroom. You felt your throat squeeze, a new wave of anxiety washing over you. 

Finding the courage to follow him, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs. 

You made your way over to him, perching on your knees in front of his legs. He lifted his head, pain written all over his handsome features. Your body physically ached at the amount of hurt swimming in his doe eyes. You cursed yourself for being the cause of it. Nico reached out to slowly like he’d spook you if he moved too quickly. He pulled you to stadle his waist, big eyes drilling into yours. 

He dropped his head in shame, “I’m sorry, schatzi.” 

You swallowed thickly, having not expected an apology.

“I should have talked to you about it first. I-I just got excited when we finally started talking about the future, I thought you had changed your mind.” 

You relaxed slightly, realizing he wasn’t gonna end things, “Don’t be sorry,” You rasped, voice hoarse from crying, “I should have made it clearer.” 

Lifting his face, you forced him to look at you, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get married eventually, Neeks. I promise, I do. Just-,” You looked at his hopeful gaze, “Just not right now.”

He nodded slightly, understanding your words. 

Your eye flickered from his eyes to his lips, before carefully placing a delicate kiss. Nico responded almost immediately, hands pulling you deeper. The kiss was slow and passionate. The days of bottled-up emotions pouring into each other's mouths. You slipped your hands into the back of his hair, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere. 

You eventually pulled away for air, chests panting. You sat for a moment, just taking in the other’s body. Nico was the first to break the silence. 

“Can you promise me something, schatzi?” Nico begged. 

You nodded quickly, “Anything.” 

“Promise you’ll marry me someday.” He swallowed, face falling into a serious expression.

You smiled slightly at his lingering worry. You kissed him once more as reassurance, before pulling away just enough to speak. 

“I promise I’ll marry you someday, Neeks.”

[sillygoosealert]

🫡 I will send in a request for some Bi-Han angst. Let’s do one where reader and Bi Han are in an argument (as couples do) and reader says something that’s very true (like idk he’s too quick to anger) And this causes a reaction out of him. And of course, being a stinky sexy angry man, he ends up lashing out in anger. And OOP- ice shards come flying towards reader, (the cold never bothered me anyway) cutting her cheek and slashing her forearm, along with a few other scrapes. Bi Han realizes she’s actually fucking RIGHT and showers reader with love, praise, and begins helping with her wounds. (Fluffy? Apology sex maybe 🤔)

WAIT WAIT THINK THINK BRAIN BLAST THIS IS REALLY AMAZING

Enough Anna..I SAID ENOUGH o(≧口≦)o

Bi-Han angst to fluff to sex 🤯 afab

‘Do you even for once want to think about how I feel about this? Because if you took a second to even talk to me half of your problems wouldn’t exist.’

His back is turned from you as he washes the blood out of one of his uniforms

‘Why won’t you look at me, I want to talk to you but you make it so, so hard. Can you even look at me, can you handle looking at me?’

‘Wouldn’t you like that? For me to just look at you and change everything about me. This is who I am, and you can either acknowledge that or continue to live in ignorance.’

‘But this isn't who you are. You are making rash and unusual decisions. I'm worried you are going to do something you'll regret immensely. You're quick to rage and you know that.’

He whips around, ice coming from his arm going towards you

‘What would you know about being Grandmaster? I am helping my clan- my people. They are thriving and are respected because of me.’

You don't hear what he says as your arms go up to protect your face and stomach from the ice shards.

They slice through your skin with ease, going through your forearm and shoulder. One even skims your cheek

It was only after his speech that Bi-Han noticed what he had done, a rash, and unusual decision that he immediately regretted.

But he doesn't make a move to go toward you, he just stands there in shock

However, you move, you move away from him quite quickly

‘Come back here. I meant no harm in my actions.’

You do not come back. You run off to the nurses

When the sky turns dark and inflicts its symptoms of the night- drowsiness, and the need for another to be by your side as you rest; you are no where to be seen

He knows it would be better to find you himself

So he wonders around until he finds you, bandaged up and sitting on a bench

‘I have been looking for you’

You look in his direction

‘Why didn't you come back’

‘You know why’

‘Please come back’

He's frowning, more than usual

‘Please?’

‘Please’

You get up, slowly walking to him

‘What do you need me to do to get you to come back?’

‘I don't know Bi-Han, everything hurts and I'm injured. I don't know if I want to come back.’

‘I’ll carry you back if you would like’

‘You’ll carry me back?’

You sound amused but he looks serious

He picks you up bridal style and starts to walk back to his room

‘You can’t just change for a day and expect me to forgive you. I don't think you'll keep up with this.’

‘With what?’

‘Being nice to me.’

He doesn't say anything to that.

After he returns to his room, he sits you on the bed

‘You are dirty’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘How do I help you clean, with your bandages?’

‘I need to take them off first, then put on new ones after’

‘So it's fine if you clean your wounds in the bath?’

‘Yes’

‘Okay..’

He takes you to his bathroom, carefully undressing you

‘Ow-’

‘Did I hurt you, What did I do?’

‘My shirt, you took it off too fast. My shoulder isn't looking good, I can just take off my own clothes..’

He shakes his head, pulling you onto his lap

‘I will be more gentle. Where else do I need to be wary of?’

‘It's just my upper body, everything else is mostly fine’

After removing your clothes, he turns on the water

Keeping you on his lap, he strokes your hair with one hand, and the other is wrapped around your waist

‘Feel the water, is that temperature okay with you?’

‘That's fine’

He slips you in, holding onto your chest rather than your arms

‘I am regretful of my earlier treatment of you. Will you let me show you I am sorry?’

‘Depends, how do you plan on showing me you didn't mean to harm me?’

‘You will see’

After bathing you, he sits you on his bed

‘Where do I need to wrap you?’

‘Shoulder and arm, anything else is fine being left alone’

He's slow and cautious when treating you, knowing you are vulnerable

You sit there naked and shivering as a man, much gruff, holds you

‘Does that feel secure?’  

‘Yes, thank you’

‘I am..sorry’

‘I know’

He frowns, squeezing your cheeks with one of his hands

You return this act, cupping his face with one of your hands

When you think he's leaning in to kiss you, he just presses his forehead against yours

‘I want to make you feel good’

‘How do you plan to do that?’

He's in between your thighs, slowly laying down so his head is on your cunt

Oh

With a little kitten lick, he starts to work on your clit

His hands are gripping your thighs as you have a hold of his hair

Slipping in two fingers, he starts to pump them in and out of your warm pussy

One of his hands wonders onto your chest and plays with your nipple

Then he starts to thrust his tongue into your vagina, his fingers now playing with your clit

The pace is fast and hard, and he's grinding into the bed

His nose is stimulating you along with his fingers, its too much

You don't ask him to stop though, that doesn't even cross your mind

With another suck to your clit your hips stutter and you squirt into his mouth

He licks it up, even lapping at your pussy to try to get more

Sighing into the bed, he rides out your orgasm

When he doesn't stop though, your thighs clench around his head on instinct

Pulling away, he wipes his lips

‘Did you feel good?’

‘Yes Bi-Han, thank you’

‘Do you still hold what happened earlier against my character?’

‘I won't just forget what happened, but I don't hate you for it’

You run your fingers through his hair as he lays his head on your chest

‘Okay..’

‘I love you, I hope you know that’

‘Thank you..’

You kiss his head and you both doze off, what happened earlier doesn't matter right now

Nothing matters right now, it's okay

🎀

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 6: "You lied to me"

Content warning: hospital whump, (arguably) bad caretaker

“You lied to me.” 

Those were the words Caretaker was greeted with when they entered Whumpee’s hospital room. They looked small and sickly in their bed, medical equipment seeming to engulf their thin frame. A sickly blush covered their face, looking almost like a rash on irritated skin. Their eyes were still glassy, but far more alert than when Caretaker had last seen them. 

Caretaker hadn’t expected them to be awake yet. Let alone sitting upright in bed. Let alone glaring at Caretaker with so much venom that they nearly took a step back in shock.

:”Baby, what–”

“You said you’d never force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. You lied.”

“I–,” the denial died in Caretaker’s throat before it formed. Whumpee was right, technically. Caretaker had known they would refuse to go to the doctor. The only reason they’d gone before was because they’d been unconscious, and even then they’d demanded to be released as soon as possible. They would never willingly decide to go to the hospital.

Caretaker knew all that. And so when Whumpee, already struggling to recover from what they’d endured under Whumper, had fallen ill, Caretaker knew they’d never agree to see a doctor. 

And so Caretaker hadn’t bothered asking. 

It’d been easy to slip something into their food. They usually would’ve noticed it instantly, but illness had dulled their sharp mind and left them half delirious with fever. It’d been easy to bundle their limp, far too light body in a blanket and tuck them into the car. It’d been easy to ignore the look of betrayal in their half lidded eyes, and pretend their slurred objections were just incoherent mumblings. 

Some part of them had hoped Whumpee wouldn’t remember it. 

“I had no choice,” they said instead. 

“You had no choice?” Whumpee laughed, humorless and unpleasant. “You drugged me and dragged me to the hospital. Who forced you to do that?”

“I had to, Whumpee. You weren’t getting better. You were sick, and injuries from–...from before–,” Caretaker hesitated, stuttering. 

Whumpee did not. “From Whumper? You can say it. I’m not going to fall apart.”

Caretaker nodded, swallowing thickly. “You were already hurt, your body couldn’t handle illness alongside that. You may not remember but–,” the memory of the coughing fits that left Whumpee struggling to stay upright, the unfocused and cloudy eyes staring dully at nothing, the ever rising number on the thermometer, flashed through Caretaker’s mind. “--it was bad. I was worried you’d die. I just wanted to help you, and I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

“So it’s my fault now?,” Bitterness dripped from every word Whumpee spoke. They tried to lift themselves into a more upright position, arms shaking from the effort, and Caretaker had to resist the urge to rush over and help them. “It’s my fault I don’t get to make decisions for myself anymore?” 

“I never said that.”

“You think you just have a right. Because you ‘care about me’, you have the right to ignore every single thing I want. Because you’re smarter, because you know better.” 

“Just listen–”

“No, you listen,” the words came out in a growl. Whumpee’s hands gripped at the bedsheets, shaking. “Everyone’s always–always deciding shit for me! Treating me like I can’t be trusted anymore, like I’m some little kid who can’t think for themselves! Whumper thought the exact same thing, but it’s fine when you do it, right?!”

“Stop it.” the words came out more harshly than Caretaker had expected. Whumpee flinched back as if they’d been hit, falling silent. “Don’t compare me to them. I’m trying to help you, and you’re fighting me at every turn! We just got you back, and it’s like you’re trying to leave again,” the words spilled out of Caretaker, half angry, half pleading. “I’m not going to sit by and let you hurt yourself.”

The two fell into silence. For the briefest moment, a look of fear flash over Whumpee’s face. They shrank back, and in that instant the guilt Caretaker felt nearly sent them to their knees. Whumpee’s look of resentment returned only a moment later, but the anger that had fueled it seemed snuffed out. They wouldn’t look Caretaker in the eye. 

The beeping of Whumpee’s heart monitor, insistent and far too fast, felt like a condemnation in Caretaker’s ears. 

Caretaker let out a shuddering sigh, a hand coming up to rest in their hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Whumpee was silent for a long moment, not turning their gaze upward. When they finally spoke, their voice was quiet, drained of energy. “Just leave.”

“Please, just let me explain–,”

“Please. Don’t make me beg.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Whumpee didn’t respond. They didn’t look up when Caretaker left.

[pinkanonwrites]

So I absolutely love your writing and was wondering if I could suggest Riddle, Leona, Jamil, Azul with an s/o who had horrible scarring and doesn’t talk about it. So naturally the boys would assume it’s a sensitive topic, and treat them delicately… But turns out that those scars are from something stupid like getting into a fight with a raccoon.

Sure thing! As expected, this ended up being a bit silly. Hope you enjoy!

GN! Reader

The first time Riddle saw your scars was when you rolled up your sleeves while helping Trey bake for the next Unbirthday party, simply trying to not let your cuffs dip into the sticky batter. Both his and Trey's gazes lasered in on the horrendous scarring up and down both your arms, but neither of them said anything besides sharing a small, worried glance. He wanted to ask you about them but knew this was neither the time nor the place to do so.

Other Heartslabyul members can tell from a glance not to bring them up, lest they risk a swift and merciless collaring by their housewarden. Whenever your arms are revealed Riddle's expression tightens, surveying the room as if he's daring his fellow students to make a comment or ask a question about them.

When he finally musters up the courage to ask about them, reassuring you he finds you beautiful and just wants to know if you're hurting, boy if he doesn't feel a bit silly when he finds out you got them from trying to pick up an opossum when you were a little kid. His cheeks get all puffed out and his face turns red, promptly shutting himself up and turning away as you coo and thank him for being so worried about your well-being. He does enjoy the praise, as flustered as he looks.

Lazing around with Leona in the midday sun of the conservatory, you stretched your arms over your head and accidentally revealed to him a series of long, thin scars that ran over each of your sides, just above your hip. His brow furrowed as your shirt covered them once more, cupping a clawed hand gently over your hip and tugging you close to snuggle up to him.

He's always liked to wrap a hand around your hip to keep you close to him, to stake his "ownership" of you. But now he does it so gently, so lightly it almost tickles as he rubs his thumb back and forth over the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You do the same to him sometimes, running your thumb so lovingly over the scar on his face when he rests his head in your lap, the least he can do is offer the same comfort.

You finally mention where you got the scars when Leona comes to visit Ramshackle. As you liken the rickety house to an abandoned building you and your friends explored near your school, mentioning how cut up you got squeezing through one of the shattered doorways, it finally clicks for him. From there the teasing floodgates are opened, and every time he finds you with a little scuff or scrape he asks if you were reigniting your urban exploration fantasies.

After Jamil's overblot, when you rolled up your pant cuffs to splash around in the cool water of the oasis, that's when Azul first saw your scars. Dozens of jagged lines and puncture marks everywhere from your ankles all the way up to your knees. It made his stomach turn a bit, trying to imagine what or who might have inflicted you with those gashes.

He's often hovering around you, making sure you don't get bumped into or lose your balance. If he's not available you'll usually have one or both of the twins observing you from a safe distance, boss's orders. He doesn't want anyone else harming his precious pearl, after all.

When you finally mention that you got all those scars from the wild raspberry bushes around your childhood home, he assumes you're joking with him. He knows what raspberries are, he isn't stupid, but are the bushes really that dangerous? One small hike with Jade later serves to prove that yes, they are, especially if you're a reckless little kid wearing shorts in the summer. He chides you, warning you to not do anything so rash in the future.

Jamil had seen your scar the very first day you had met, along with just about everyone else in school. It wasn't exactly easy to miss; the curved line cutting across your forehead and down into your eyebrow was painfully obvious to anyone who looked at you for more than a few minutes. He didn't think about it much until the two of you actually began interacting on a daily basis.

He watches you a lot, only when he thinks you aren't looking (and often times you aren't). He's not the type to bring it up on his own, it's none of his business after all, but he does worry about you. He's on edge whenever you mention having a headache, even if it has nothing to do with your scar at all.

You mention it offhand one day, the stupid cause of your forehead scar. The man who was re-shingling your house roof when you were a kid knocked a metal bucket off the edge when you were heading out to school, and instead you had to get rushed to the E.R. for stitches. As you proudly regale the story of the ice cream cake and flowers the repairman bought as an apology Jamil breathes a sigh of relief, almost visibly melting into his seat. Now he'll just have to make sure nothing that unlucky happens to you again.

[sidekick-hero]

let the impulse to love and the instinct to kill entangle to one

(steddie | wc: 918 | teen | written for @steddiemas and @steddieholidaydrabbles (prompt: came back wrong) | tags: fluff, first kiss, kas!eddie

"I'm not staring at you. I'm staring at your ugly ass sweater. What is that thing?" Steve asks, aiming to sound appalled but failing miserably. There is too much affection in his voice, laughter echoing in every word.

He thinks he can't be blamed, though, because Eddie looks ridiculous in that big green and red sweater with Rudolph the Reindeer on it, pulling an empty flying sleigh. Especially with the gray tinted skin and the sharp teeth and the fucking wings that spilled out of the cuts in the back of the sweater.

"Where's Santa, huh? Did you eat him?" Steve laughs and Eddie chirps again, this time clearly offended. He pulls away from where he was leaning against Steve, climbs off the bed and retreats to the farthest wall. Standing there in a defensive pose with his arms crossed over his chest, Eddie hangs his head and hunches his shoulders, making himself small. His long, black curls hide most of his face, but Steve can still see the onyx color of his eyes gleaming in the dim light of his bedside lamp.

The sight makes his heart ache in his chest.

Getting up from where he's been sitting cross-legged on his bed, Steve pads over to him, determined to fix whatever he's done to make Eddie look like this. But when he ducks his head to catch Eddie's eyes, all he gets is an irritated growl as Eddie turns his head away from Steve's searching gaze. Behind him, his tail flicks back and forth angrily.

One thing he didn't know about Eddie before, but learned pretty quickly, is how damn stubborn he can be. Good thing Steve is not one to give up easily, having spent nearly four years babysitting teenagers.

His hand slowly reaches out, making his intentions clear until it rests on Eddie's forearm. He learned his lesson when Eddie first started coming to his room late at night, still has the scars to remind him of that lesson. He knows that Eddie didn't mean to hurt him. Steve just startled him the first time he reached out to touch him without warning, eager in his excitement to see Eddie alive.

Things have changed since then. A lot.

Eddie is less cagey, no longer afraid of Steve. He tolerates his touch now, even seeks it out. But he still doesn't take well to surprises. Steve wonders what happened to him all those months he was lost in the Upside Down and thinks maybe it's better he doesn't know. He's not sure he wouldn't do something rash and epically stupid if he did.

"Sorry, Eds, I know you don't eat people. It was a dumb joke, I didn't mean anything by it." His thumb smooths over the tense muscles he can feel under the soft material of the sweater. It looks like it should be scratchy, offending more senses than just his eyes, but it isn't.

Just like Eddie looks scary, but isn't.

It seems to be the right thing to say, because the onyx of his eyes takes on a warmer shade, like very dark chocolate or the first precious coffee of the morning. Eddie chirps again and shakes his head.

"No, I mean it, Eddie. I don't think you're a monster. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone, it was a really stupid joke. I guess I'm still an asshole sometimes and -"

Eddie interrupts his ramblings by bumping his head against Steve's before nuzzling close to his neck, chirping and purring. He still can't talk, even though Steve hasn't given up hope that he will, but that doesn't mean he can't communicate.

"Okay, okay, no bad self-talk. Got it, jeez. You're worse than Robin, I swear," Steve laughs as he runs his hands through Eddie's soft curls. Secretly, he doesn't mind letting their bodies do much of the talking. Words have never been his strong suit, but this? He's damn good at this.

"But honestly, what's with the ugly ass sweater, huh?" He can't help but ask again as he practically holds Eddie in his arms. He's colder to the touch than a normal human, but Steve doesn't mind. He always runs a little hotter than most, so it balances out perfectly.

Eddie pulls back a little so he can look at Steve and points to Steve's chest with his claw.

"Me? What do I have to do with this? It's not one of mine, is it?"

Eddie shakes his head and his claw taps Steve's chest again, then points at himself and the ugly sweater.

"I'm sorry, Eds, I don't -"

The claw moves from his chest to his face and Steve holds still, his eyes crossing as it follows the deadly weapon. Eddie's finger touches his mouth, effectively shushing him, before the tip of the claw slips between his lips and pulls ever so gently at the right corner of Steve's mouth, forcing a crooked smile.

"Sssseve" Eddie hisses, the first words he's spoken since he returned not quite the same as before, and it clicks.

"You were trying to make me laugh?"

Eddie beams at him. "Ssseve," he says again, chirping with delight and Steve can't help but kiss him. Eddie freezes for a second under his mouth before kissing him back urgently as more sounds pour out of him between kisses, chirping and purring against Steve's mouth.

So what if Eddie came back a bit wrong? He came back to them. To Steve.

In his book, that's worth more than normal anyway.

[wayfayrr]

Copy and pasted This was a request from @yourlocaltreesimp and @sketchyspook as a continuation of self aware sky!! This man has my heart and soul <3 we've got two skies trying to come to terms with each other while reader is stuck in the middle <33 Btw if ever there's a one shot you'd ever like a continuation of I'll always be happy to write it if you drop a request <3 seeing as that's how this came to be in full, I had no intention to carry on with sky otherwise The first - second

[masterlist]

... “And why do you look just like me?”

This is so different to what happened the first time, he’s less emotive with his face still rigged to the model the way he’s moving seems far more stiff like he’s fighting against the game. The biggest difference though?

He’s petrified.And not of any one thing in particular every single thing is setting him off, from how my link is looking at him to even the feeling of his skin from what I can see. Link - the one on my side I mean - is hard to read, tensing up, gritting his teeth and looking at his other self like a threat. 

“Why are you both just looking at me like that - what - I - I - please I can’t handle anyone else keeping me in the dark - no one seems to remember my name - my real name- I don’t… this is all so… so”

Even his crying sounds similar to link’s - my link’s - oh I’ll need to come up with nicknames for them both now otherwise there won’t be an end to the confusion. Anyway it sounds similar, but far more broken, almost as if he’s having an existential crisis during his breakdown which, to be fair, is probably what is happening. One of us needs to explain everything to him and with links reaction? I think it’s going to be up to me.  With a quick glance at link telling him to stay out of this, moving to sit closer to the screen to talk to him face to face like a real person, all I have to do is hope that it goes well; that he doesn’t do anything rash.

“Link - I’ll explain whatever you want explained to you that I can with what I know, you just need to calm down enough to ask alright?”

That stopped the crying, his head jerkily moving so that his eyes can meet mine with each movement he makes becoming more fluid and natural. Each second that passes only seeming to bring him more alive all the while link behind me only seems to be getting more upset over it all. 

“I - I - Yeah… I can calm down, th-ank you..?”

“[name], you can call me that if you want or whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Ri-ight then feather, what’s happening - why are you watching me? And why - why does he look like me?”

Anomaly, I think that’ll suit him, didn’t take kindly to me being called a nickname so quickly but he’s the one who wanted to play the game so badly so he’s got to suck it up. Besides it’s not like he’s got to shatter someone's worldview, hopes and life, that falls on me. I can comfort anomaly later on, when this is cleared up. 

“Link you, aren’t real. You’re the character the player controls to play through this game you’re in, we weren’t just watching you, he was controlling you.”

“...”

“As for why he looks like you? He is you, a version of you anyway.”

“One who managed to learn about it and get out on his own, guess that makes me your better self huh?”

Because that was the right thing to tell a version of yourself having a breakdown, he had the decency to at least look a little ashamed when I turned to look at him. Not that his remorse helps how replay seems to have gotten worse again, this time the sound of crying pairing with tears streaming down his digital face. Even if he isn’t the same link I’ve been living with, his tears still hurt far more than any wound. 

“So  none of it - nothing - I went through is real, I’m not real? This is all for nothing, Zelda's not, she isn’t real either, so she, I’ve been through so- You helped me through it all…”

“Link..?”

“He - I? - said he got out, I - so that means I can too right? You - You’re not going to put me through everything, through learning all of that and keep me trapped in here right? Please [name], feather, please don’t make me stay here.”

“So you can try to take the love I earned? [Name] you were right I should never have played it.”

Oh, he knows exactly the right way to word it to hurt replay as much as he possibly can, it’s like he feels some sickening joy at this version of himself sobbing his heart out and knowing he’s the cause of the pain. Replay’s face has nothing more than horror on it now, he’s more scared than earlier. Hopefully anomaly comes to his senses soon so he doesn’t traumatise him any more than he already has. 

“Link, can you go getmy first aid kit and some extra bandages? I think they’re in the bathroom.”

“Wait dove you’re not planning to - right?”

“I didn’t leave you stuck and come on, love. I know you don’t actually hate him.”

“I - sure, for you though, no other reason.”

He didn’t fight me back at all, proving my own point that he most likely just feels threatened when he has no reason to be. Maybe replay staying with us will even be good for him, I know he’s been struggling adapting to being real and not having anyone who he can really relate to; replay being a version of himself in a very similar spot should really help. 

“[name]... you told him not to play? W-were you scared of this - of me learning? Of me being an issue… is that why you told him not to?”

“It wasn’t about you coming to life persay, I said it as a joke about how he got out of the game. He broke something that was very expensive to replace and I was teasing him over it. I know he was just saying that to hurt you though, so don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’ll calm down if you give him some time.”

Arguably it feels more like I’m facetiming someone now, his movements are so life-like he’s just like a real person, just in time for him to show a shy smile. Was this what anomaly would’ve looked like if he wasn’t in such a rush to get out that he was on the verge of corrupting the data while he was still in it. It’s unnerving, but less so than when he shoved his hand through the screen without warning. 

“Besides I think I have a way to prevent you from breaking anything hopefully, my boyfriend’s just getting it set up. It shouldn’t take long but seeing as we have a bit of time… is there anything else you wanted to ask or do you wanna talk for a bit?”

He seems flustered now, blushing red and everything, it’s kinda sweet more but does this me that he’s also. Be real with yourself [name] what are the odds that the same guy fell for you twice. Those would probably be higher wouldn’t they now I think on it. That look in his eye doesn’t make sense if he’s not as much as I hate to think it. It’s the same way anomaly looks at me, tamer yes but still has the same obsessive energy behind it, like he wants me to give him permission or he doesn’t understand why he feels like the way he does. Hopefully it won’t cause issues. He seemed to back away a little when I felt arms wrap around my shoulders, clearly someone wasn’t as pleased with how he was looking at me, while the other doesn’t like not having my attention. A nip at my ear was all I needed to turn back to him. 

“I hope you understand why I don’t like this, I love you far too much to consider losing you to another version of myself… but I did go and get the first aid kit like you asked. I don’t see why he needs it, can’t he just bring a potion with him or down a guardian potion beforehand?”

“Thanks love, I really appreciate it. You do have a point though, but still it’s better to prepare for the worst.”

“This isn't going to change anything between us, because I can’t lose you my player, just - just promise me that alright?”

“Of course link.”

Then the promise was sealed with a kiss to his cheek, tension leaving him instantly now that he knows his position as my partner isn’t at threat. Honestly it’s so cute how territorial he gets, nothing bad has ever happened and he’s the best partner you could ever want outside of that so really it’s not much of an issue. Other than that how many people can say their ‘fictional’ crush both reciprocates and gets possessive of them, it’s a very small number as far as I’m aware. Now all that’s left to do is for replay to break his way out. Replay’s already tearing up again.

“So then me what do I have to do to get out, and - and to throw away my past.”

“Break the screen, put your hand up against it and break the glass. I’ll be honest though, it will hurt a lot.”

“So I should take a potion right, to make it hurt less?”

“I didn’t take one, but if you feel you’ll need it. Go ahead, it’ll only prove you’re less than me.”

That final insult seemed to make replay steel himself, gripping a potion in his hand staring at it like it was what threatened him instead. He didn’t drink it though. Instead he opted to take his shield and use the pointed base to break through, faster and arguably much smarter than my beloved anomaly did, reaching out afterwards to pull himself out leaving my tv in a broken pile yet again but replay himself was left relatively unharmed in comparison. Was link really that desparate to be with me before? I can’t say that I’m not flattered by that, I only wish he took his own health into consideration. Now I’m simply stuck between the two of them staring at each other, I wonder how long it will take them to grow up and stop silently arguing.

[ashdreams2023]

Hello, can you do a lucius malfoy and severus snape (poly again) with reader who likes collecting things? (Like their hearts) Like anything they find cool they take it (even if its from lucius or severus) bonus if they buy them anime figures and/or something similar

Lucius Malfoy x reader x severus snape ( poly )

I don’t why but I chose mushrooms as their special interest lol 💀

You first mentioned your little hobby was when you visited severus in his office with lucius on ministry work, Severus’s collection of weird pickled parts was fascinating to say the least

"I collect mushroom things" "like the red and white print?" "No! Not one type of mushroom, any kind"

It was then that they start to notice the little things related to your hobby

Your mushroom earrings, socks with the prints of different mushrooms on them, even your tinny little tattoo on your pinky toe

Severus also got an answer to why his plant based magazines for potions keep disappearing after he’s finished with them

Lucius does enjoy looking for mushroom like presents for you, he can’t help his excitement when he comes from a trip all giddy to give you something he knows you’ll love

"These are adorable! My very own mushroom tea set! Thank you thank you my love" the kisses afterwards is worth all the hustle

Severus gave you a glass stand with dried up mushrooms in it, it was all things he collected and noticed you looking at in magazines or shops

"Oh my god severus! These are so rare you shouldn’t have…" "Don’t be ridiculous…do you like it?" "I love it, thank you!"

One Halloween they helped you get dressed up as a mushroom fairy

Lucius paid for all the necessities and severus helped with the actual job of stitching and dressing you up

You have a room detected just to your hobby and you’re beginning to question if tell your boyfriends about was a good idea

"Sev and me made this glass mushroom forest for you" "boys it’s beautiful but…I don’t think I have any more space in my house"

Cue lucius telling you to move in already with him in the manner

"Did you know that some mushrooms are so poisonous a little tip touching your skin can give you a terrible rash resulting in your skin falling!"

"I found it both terrifying and endearing the amount of knowledge they have on that" "I think it’s quite remarkable"

Either way they don’t judge you, it’s your thing and it wasn’t hurting anyone so why not just be supportive

[goblin-mask]

TMNT x Bimbo Reader Head Cannons

This is my first headcannon ever I hope you enjoy and that I did it correctly! Request:  

 HELLO!! Can I request bimbo reader who has a crush on the turtles??(individually if that ok?) She’s a total airhead and always striving to pls them. It’s super obvious that she’s crushing because she’s follows after them like a puppy and practically grows wings whenever they praise or give her positive reinforcement. They 100% know she wants them but won’t do anything about it till she does. Out of spite or for entertainment… who knows😭 The boys basically forcing reader admit she has a crush on them. 🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️ (Ps: Mikey’s my fave!🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

All Of Them:

They could tell you had a crush on them the moment you walked into the layer the second time

You brought Leo sharpening stones for his katanas

He had mentioned it only once before and you some how remembered

You memorized the periodic table for Donnie

Even making a stupid song to go with it

You memorized Mikey’s order for his favorite Pizza

You had gotten it wrong so many time you wrote it down and kept it in your wallet

You tried your best to work out with Raph

Lifting weights weren’t your forte 

You were also terrible at hiding it

You went out of your way to touch them

You tripped or choked on air whenever one of them would walk by

You would try to understand the ninja lingo that the brothers shared

Even tried to get on Splinters good side

which he found amusing

Leonardo:

Leo knew you were going to confess to him after he had a bad day

You must have gotten a heads up from April because you bright skincare, and other things he has seen you do when he would visit

You attempted to make it as relaxing as possible but some things weren’t meant to be on Turtles skin

When Leo broke out into a rash you freaked out

You thought he was dying and ran to Donnie for immediate assistance 

Leo had never seen you  cry to this extent before

And yes you cried a lot

Leo had to spend an hour trying to console you and make you realize that he knew you didn’t do it on purpose

Through your sobs he could hear you say

“I just want to do nice things for you *Hic* Because I really like you!”

When you said that he smiled

“Don’t worry baby girl I like you as well.”

He has never seen you flip emotions like you did

One moment you were crying on the floor and the next moment you were in his lap and hugging him like your life depended on it

He made sure to hug you back just as tight to reassure you

“Thank you Leo!”

Leo only places a kiss in your hair

Raphael:

When you confessed to Raph it was completely out of the blue

He was lifting dumbbells when you jumped out and surprised him.

He ended up dropping it on his foot

You immediately tried to help only to hurt him further which he hid to the best of his ability

You just ended up handing him some wrist wrapping tape and a note with his name and a heart on it before bolting out in tears

Raph felt his heart warm when he read it

His favorite part of it was the baby pink lipstick kiss that you put over his name at the beginning

When it was safe to go out he made sure to wear the wraps around his wrists and carry the note with him

“Doll~” He says as he enters your room

He sees you curled on your side under the blankets

He sees you shuffle as if you are trying to sleep

“I know you you are still awake~” 

You turn over and meet his eye

He sits on your bed and pats your back

“Now I need those pretty lips to tell me, can you do that Doll?”

He smirks at your flustered expression

“I like you...”

“I like ya too.”

He then brings you into his lap. 

“Can I get an actual kiss now?”

Donatello:

Donatello could tell you liked him he just didn’t know why

The memorization of the periodic table gave him an unusual feeling

Then you started giving him periodic table pick up lines

He didn’t get it until his brothers pointed it out

Then you started wearing his lab coat to an insane extent

It now had your scent there permanently 

Which he didn’t mind

What happened to make you confess was that he was working on some intense chemicals

He should have known better and told you to waft the smell towards you, but he ultimately forgot

This caused your eyes to water and burn to which he quickly rushed you to the fountain to rinse your eyes out

“For the last time Sweetheart, you aren’t going to go blind.”

“I might as well since I am so blindly in love with you!” you say through blubbers of tears

Donnie sighs as he takes you away from the fountain and looks into your eyes

“I love you too Sweetheart, but you have to believe me when I say the chemical will only cause irritation”

He could have sworn your pupils turned to heart eyes as you jumped in his arms for a hug

Michelangelo - Your Fav

Mikey is a bit of an air head to which is why you both clicked so well in the first place

He was skateboarding in the sewers when he sees you right in front of him

He decided it was high time to teach you how to skate

while skating however he neglected to give you any arm or knee pads

which was his plan so he had an excuse to hold your hands the entire time

which worked until you tripped and fell

You definitely got the princess treatment as he scooped you up in his arms and took you to the layer, leaving his skateboard behind

“I am so sorry Angelcakes I should have held onto you better”

He says as he makes a mess of Donnie’s Lab trying to find some bandages and hydroxide

By the time you are bandaged up you are tired and are just leaning against Mikey

To your surprise he confesses first!

“I know I am always the one to jump the gun on this but I gotta tell ya...”

He pauses for a moment

“You’re a sweet girl and I want to make sure you are okay so maybe if you’d like, you can be my Angelcake permanently?”

You let out a giggle before placing a kiss on his cheek “Of course Mikey!”

[corrodedbisexual]

I am once again thinking about Steve's injuries. Specifically, the road rash on his back and the back of his arms.

So... About a year ago I slid on a wet rock on a mountain hike and broke the fall on a rocky surface with my bare knee. The surface was relatively smooth, and the overall slide was... maybe half a meter. Nowhere near close to what Steve went through.

Several points from personal observation, in case you're curious and haven't scraped your skin much since you were a child learning to ride a bike and don't remember how it goes, and the resulting headcanons. (Having thought about it, I myself will try to incorporate this into my post-Vecna fics more, bc honestly there's never enough attention paid to it, and in the long run it might just be 100 times more of a bitch than the bat bites, despite not being immediately life threatening, due to the enormous surface of the skin affected.)

1) It doesn't really hurt that much right after the injury. The scrapes are shallow, there's little blood, it's mostly just mangled skin. So despite this being a common criticism of the canon, it's entirely plausible Steve could shrug that off and keep focused on the Vecna shit without treating it. I'll allow it.

2) The fun begins about a day later, when the injury really starts to scab. A knee or an elbow is probably the worst fucking place to get scraped: every tiny movement of your joints results in extreme stretching of the scabbing skin, damaging it over and over again when it's just begun to heal. I spent a week walking with a limp. But really it applies to any part of your body that moves a lot. For Steve, I'd say the worst would be his shoulder blades. Raising his arms, lifting anything heavy, anything that stretches the skin on his back would hurt like a bitch in his condition after a couple of days.

3) Also, he wouldn't be able to comfortably sleep on his back, or lean back in a chair. No fucking way. The edges of the scabs are sharp. When pressed on, they dig into your skin. Ouch.

4) The fun continues when it really starts to heal and ITCH! LIKE! A! MOTHERFUCKER! And of course, the scabs prevent you from scratching, because your body is smart like that, so of course you start peeling them. But you can't do that if it's on your back. I just imagine Steve behaving like a flea infested bear, trying to scratch his back against tree trunks and door frames while everyone tries to stop him from doing that because that keeps opening up his wounds. Maybe Eddie or Robin could offer him gentle backrubs when they hang out. Enough to take the edge off the itching, not enough to damage the scabs.

5) The scarring. It's not gonna be super visible, but it's gonna be there, a white spiderweb of scars. I realize that everyone's skin heals differently, and there are ointments that can help, but in the end, with all that, this is my knee about a day after the injury and 10 months later.

So, uh... Yeah. Stevie. I'm so sorry baby. (Hugging him tight to my chest)

[iridescentpull]

Wrote a little ficlet inspired by this post. Enjoy <3

In Ramón’s defense, he thought he was no longer allergic to cinnamon. 

He hadn’t really had the chance to eat anything with cinnamon since they were taken to the Purgatory Islands. Then he got back, and the focus was on feeding him actual meals that would heal and strengthen his body again. Plus, Fit wasn’t one to cook things other than avocado toast except for tasks. 

So when Pac asked him if he’d like to try some churros he made, he thought sure, why not. He’d heard food allergies disappear as one grows older, so the same thing probably happened to him. If not, he’s an older dragonling, so he could probably take it. It would be fine.

Probably.

***

It was not fine.

As soon as he took a bite of the dough, it was like his tastebuds were on fire, and that the flames were cinnamon and sugar flavored. He made a face and then coughed as the spices made his throat start to tickle.

Pac was a little confused at his reaction. “Don’t you like them?” He asked, concerned. “Did I put too much cinnamon? You can tell me, I won’t be offended.”

The dragonling shook his head, eyes tearing up as he felt hives rise from his skin. With a shaky hand, he signs. ‘No, they’re good!’ He tried to sign back, before a coughing fit made his hands shake even harder. ‘I’m just... allergic? To cinnamon.’

That made his Pai’s eyes widen. “Wait, are you having an allergic reaction?”

Ramón nodded.

“Puta merda.” The male cussed, ruching to his potion chest and scrambling through it. “Your dad is gonna kill me!”

‘Pai.’ The dragonling tried to sign, but he wasn’t able to do much with the way his hands shook, and his skin was starting to break out into a rash. ‘It’s okay!’

Pac wasn’t paying attention, though, and instead was frantically digging through the chest. He let out a sigh of relief when he pulled out two healing pots and a slimeball. “Here!” He shoved one of the healing pots in Ramón’s wavering mouth, and the dragonling was glad he managed to swallow the entire thing before coughing out.

‘Pai.’ He tried to sign, again. ‘It’s okay. I promise! Fit won’t be mad!’

His father said nothing, too busy mixing the healing pot with the slime to create a healing cream for the hives that had begun to rise. After he created the mix, he gently grabbed one of Ramón’s arm and started spreading it over the hives.

“Oh, this could’ve been bad.” Pac mumbled, as he moved to spread the cream over the hives on Ramón’s neck. “Your dad is gonna kill me.”

‘Fit’s not gonna kill you.’ The dragonling signed, but the other wasn’t looking at him, too focused on treating the hives. ‘It’ll be fine, you didn’t know.’

The older man sighed and looked up, eyes a bit misty. “I didn’t want to hurt you though, nenê.” He said, looking down to grab the other’s arm and spread the cream as well. “I promised to Fit I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Ramón's eyes widened at that, and he bit his lip guiltily. ‘Sorry, pai.’ He signed, looking down. ‘It was an accident, and you didn’t know. I promise I won’t do it again.’

That got a sad chuckle out of his father, who finished applying the cream and moved to gently hug him. Ramón hugged him back, and the two sat there for a bit.

“Thank you, nenê.” He said, before pulling away. “I’ll keep a stock of healing pots and a slimeballs around just in case, okay?”

‘Alright.’ Ramón signed, smiling up at him with that twinkle in his eyes. ‘Dying to an allergic reaction would suck, now that I think about it.’

Pac cackled, shaking his head. “It would.” He agreed, patting Ramón’s hair. “There are way more cooler ways to die.”

‘There are!’ Ramón cheered, making his father laugh. ‘Like hanging!’

The Brazilian’s eyes brightened. “You are so right, nenê.”

***

“You did what?!”

‘Whoops?’

“Ay Ramón…”

[asaarii]

Hi! I would like to make a request. Aphelios x Fem!Albino!Lunari!Reader. Reader has completely white hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, and red eyes. She absolutely cannot be in the sunlight. She also has not very good eyesight and hearing (which is typical for all albinos). She goes out on assignments mostly at night, when the sun can't harm her skin. Yes, unlike other Lunari, she wears completely white clothes so as not to be noticeable among the snowdrifts. Thank you very much!

Snowfall ft: aphelios reader: fem wc: 1832 IM SO SORRY THISD TOOK SO LONG JUST TO COME OUT MID. also trying out a new style guys pls dont hurt me cheese

If Aphelios was your eyes and ears…

You squint at the figures from your position in the underbrush, hidden beneath the snow-covered leaves with Aphelios at your side. You attempt to lean in closer, but a hand on your chest stops you. Aphelios shakes his head, holding up three fingers as an indication.

The beat of your heart quickens and you’re lucky to have your lover by your side to keep you from doing anything rash. Though unable to speak due to having consumed the noctum poison prior to your expedition, he quickly signs for the two of you to move quickly.

Winters on Mount Targon are cold, almost comparable to that of Freljordian true ice. Harsh and unyielding, it bites at any exposed skin, seeping into the bones of any unsuspecting trespassers.

Over the years you’ve gotten used to the howling blizzards, bundling in all white to match your hair as a form of camouflage in the high snow piles. On the other hand, Aphelios does not match your sentiment for the art of stealth with his brazen blues and purples that stand out against the pure white snow.

Not that he really needed it anyway, he was strong enough to fend for himself, after all.

The snow crunches beneath your shared footfalls, quickly covered by the raging blizzard. If you listened over the howling wind, you might’ve heard Alune’s near-silent whispers, warning her brother of the oncoming danger.

But you don’t, all you see is his head swiveling, eyes widening a fraction before he’s tackling you to the ground, his chest pressed to your back as his hair tickles your cheek. His breath comes out in frosty puffs, chakram held tightly in his grasp as the sound of footsteps of Mount Targon’s intruders grows closer.

From your place on the ground beneath Aphelios, you see the projectile thrown at the two of you lodged deep in the chunk of a tree. It’s only when Aphelios sits up do you see that the spear had grazed his arm, cutting through the thick fabric and marring his skin with an ugly cut.

He doesn’t wince when you prod at the bleeding wound, numbed to the pain by the poison in his veins. Despite his lack of pain, you still quickly wrap his wound, knowing he’ll complain about it later if you don’t. He pulls you close as soon as you’re done, observant eyes squinting at the heavy blizzard and ears focused on the small shifts of movement through the snow.

You stay situated at his side, trusting his senses as you dart your gaze around despite your dulled vision. 

So long as you were by his side, you felt safe.

…you were his voice.

Even outside of the effects of the poison, Aphelios was a quiet man. Not many knew the sound of his voice, or even if he spoke at all. Those who did didn’t hear it often.

Other than you, of course.

You spoke on his behalf during general meetings or gatherings of soldiers. He almost always whispered in your ear, making sure to press his lips against the shell of your ear just to make sure you wouldn’t miss a word he said. You would nod, offering input before relaying the message to the rest of the group.

Younger soldiers would peer curiously between the two of you, unused to seeing the stoic super soldier so…content. The older soldiers would laugh lightly, teasing the two of you by asking Aphelios to speak up, garnering a glare and eye-roll from the obsidian-haired male.

A dynamic built upon your shortcomings that flourishes beneath the beauty of the moon itself.

Quite literally, actually, considering that you couldn’t be out in the sun for long periods of time.

Not that he really cared, seeing that he grew up guided by the moon alongside his sister.

Regardless, he’s nothing if not observant.

He sees the way you long for the warmth of the sun, despite being unable to stay under it for long.

So while you sleep during the daylight hours, he sneaks out of your shared residence, venturing to a meadow nearby seemingly untouched by the harsh winter snow.

He brings back flowers, white ones specifically as they remind him of you.

He presses them with guidance from the priestesses back at camp who giggle at his act of affection

“She’s really happy to have someone like you,” they would often say.

And though they couldn’t see the crimson that speckled his cheeks from beneath their eye-coverings, they still hear the near unnoticeable flustered twinge in his voice as he offers a hum of agreement.

Just as sneakily as he snuck out, he sneaks back in, placing your gift nearby before crawling back into bed with you.

He trusts you with his whole life, which means a lot coming from him.

You and Alune had each guided him in your own ways, and he can never express how truly grateful he is to the both of you.

Together, he and his sister were a weapon, a force that knew only of the destruction of any who stood in the path of the Lunari.

But with you, he’s merely a man.

And by the gods, does he love you.

The light of his life.

That’s how he would describe you.

In both appearance and personality, you are his beacon; the brightest star in a hopeless night filled with war and the unending cycle of death. 

You, on the other hand, look at Aphelios as though he was the one to hang the moon and stars themselves in the sky.

In spite of his cold demeanor and rather off-putting aloofness, he never treats you less than anyone else, even if you can’t see or hear as well as others who have been trained since birth to hear and see nearly every shift in a general vicinity.

White hair is not an uncommon trait for Lunari, hell, Alune herself bears it, but what really drew Aphelios in was the striking red eyes that widened upon seeing him.

He enjoys staring into them, losing himself in the same color of which he once loathed.

Red had once been his least favorite color.

To him, it represented nothing more than carnage and bloodshed, ranging from the dulled color of blood smeared across the ground after a battle well-fought, all the way to the bright streaks left behind after each practiced swing of his severum. He preferred lighter, more calming blues, as opposed to striking reds. Though, that was simply his opinion.

He was sure that he would keep this opinion till the day he died, finding no positive things to associate with the aforementioned color.

During the rare moments when the poison was still in effect after a battle, Alune would speak to him, asking about how things were going, pointing out small changes in her brother that others had yet to notice, and simply talking to spend as much time as possible to be with him.

When she had caught wind of his least favorite color, she grew curious. Of course, her brother was free to feel however he wished about something as mundane as a color, but this did not relent her subtle teasing.

“You know, brother…” She starts. Aphelios does not like the playful lilt in her voice as he pauses his trek back to base to listen. “Those of other regions often associate the color red with that of love.” He can hear her attempt to negate her laughter through the waning connection and rolls his eyes at his sister's antics. She continues, though her voice is softer now and the ache of battle is beginning to take its toll on him, “Perhaps your disdain for the color is a sign that you’ll never find love.”

Her voice soon fades into a dull ringing, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Love was never a concept he truly ever focused on, too busy with training and defending the Lunari from any outside threats. Though, he recalls Alune watching the older couples during the midst of their training, eyes wide and curious with child-like wonder as they whispered declarations of love before setting off on their respective expeditions. She had always been fond of the concept of romance, being swept off her feet by a force unlike any other. Aphelios, on the other hand, was not a fan of the idea of being caught off guard and left in such a vulnerable position, but Alune had merely rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out as their training resumed.

That being said, he was unsure of how his distaste for a certain color correlates in any way to his love life. Too entrapped with his thoughts, the usually keen soldier fails to notice the figure in front of him. 

His eyes widen as he bumps into you, luckily catching you with his scarily quick reflexes. Your gazes meet, and the first thing he can’t help but notice is the color of your eyes. The striking shade of red only highlighted beneath the soft light of the moon. You’re quick to scurry off after a multitude of apologies to the prized soldier of the Lunari, who merely blinks blankly at you in response.

When next he and Alune have time to indulge themselves outside of battle, Alune is quick to learn that maybe, just maybe, red isn’t so bad a color.

BONUS:

Snow drifts down in slow, small clumps, covering the rocky floor of your temporary residence in a fluffy white sheet. Winters on Mount Targon were always blisteringly cold, even more so during the night.

You stick your hand out, allowing a few of the snowflakes to land on your hand before watching them melt. The light of the full moon beckons you forth where the sun doesn’t, pulling you from the confines of your claustrophobic home and out into the world.

The sound of snow crushing beneath careful footfalls draws your attention away from the falling snow, your pure white robes swaying with your sudden jolt of movement. You squint your eyes in an attempt to discern who the perpetrator is through the increasing snowfall before relaxing, tense shoulders slumping in relief.

“Phel,” you greet your lover with a gentle smile when he gets close enough. Snow litters his hair, seemingly dying the inky strands a similar color to that of your own. It’s a silly sight, and you giggle, running a hand through his hair to clear it of snow, even if it starts to regather as soon as you do.

He hums in response, leaning into your touch before placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he pulls you in a hug. You relish in his warmth, and wrap your arms around his waist in turn, nuzzling into the thick fabric of his jacket.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, basking in each other’s presence beneath the moon and snow. 

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