#so I hope it flows alright

[roosterbox]

July 4 Random Word Almost-Drabble: Defend

Word Count: 404

——

“Fuckers,” Steve mumbles, kicking up a loose stone as the group of boys retreated. High school bullshit, he thinks. Can’t escape it. With a sigh, he turns back to Munson. The other boy sat on the curb, nursing his split lip with the hem of his Iron Maiden shirt.

“Here, let me-“ Steve belatedly realized that he hadn’t exactly run out here with healing in mind. Kind of the opposite, actually. “Hang on a sec.”

“You don’t have to-“ Eddie starts to say. But he can’t stop Steve from running back inside. He considers just getting back in his van and heading home, but Steve’s only gone for a moment. He comes back out with a handful of napkins.

“Sorry, couldn’t find the first aid kit. Have to talk to Robin about rearranging stuff back there. Will these-“

“They’ll do.” Eddie tries to smile, but winces at the pull on his injured mouth. He reaches for the napkins, but Steve ignores him.

“Let me.” And then, huh, King Steve Harrington starts gently dabbing at his bloodily lip. And it only stings a little. And for a long stretch of seconds, Eddie Munson doesn’t know what to say. How could he? With the prettiest boy in Hawkins playing nurse for him? In that silly outfit? He glances down at Steve’s Scoops uniform, at those ridiculously short shorts, and just as quickly looks away.

“You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” he says quietly, not meeting Steve’s eyes. “Not for me.”

The other’s hands never faltered. From his vantage point, Eddie could see the reddened knuckles on the right one. That must hurt, he thinks.

“Those guys give you trouble a lot?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. “More or less.”

“Then yes, I did have to.” He swipes a bit too hard, making Eddie wince. “Sorry.”

“‘S okay.”

A few more light dabs, then Steve is stepping back, out of Eddie’s space. He crumples the bloodied tissues in his hand, presumably to toss into the trash can inside. Eddie hopes his disappointment at the loss of proximity isn’t too obvious.

“I think you’re good,” Steve says. His face looks suspiciously pink. Could be from the cold. Could be something else.

“Thanks for the help, sailor.” Eddie’s tone is light, half joking. A bit of a line, perhaps, to see if he gets a bite. And when Steve’s blush deepens, Eddie knows he’s caught a big one.

[foolsocracy]

Hi, hello, I’m new to your blog. I’ve made myself at home. Lovely carpet.

Can I please know more about your spider Robbie pie? Can’t seem to find the silverware.

but of course, kind anon

Spider Robbie is an au in which Robbie Robertson takes up the spider mantle after the death of the one before him. He is the third, following Ben Urich and, most notably, Peter Parker.

This au is very much canon divergence from Eyes Without a Face, where Peter makes it in time to save Robbie from his original fate but dies in the process. Peter is shot while rushing Robbie and the others out. In his panic and elation at finding Robbie physically unharmed, Peter outs himself as the Spider Man to his best friend. Robbie stays with him as he bleeds out and resolves to continue to hide Peter's identity.

Peter is buried and remains that way for... an undetermined amount of time.

Robbie is left with a mask, a jacket, and the question of just who was this other half of his friend. As he learns more of who this... Spider Man was, he gets more and more involved in the spider's cases and conflicts. Robbie gets more sure of his own abilities and makes a bit of a name for the Spider Man within his own community, though the people of Harlem are largely unaware that the appearances of a masked vigilante match the interests of one Robbie Robertson.

It is to be noted that none of these aforementioned abilities are spider-god-induced powers like Peter's. Robbie, especially at the beginning of his spidering career, leans more into Urich's role than Parker's. To me, Robbie has been passionate about the press and journalism in a way that Peter never was. For Pete, his job as a photographer and reporter was a job he took until he could get into college and study science. Robbie has a way with words and communication that Peter frankly lacks. Of course, that isn't to say that Robbie won't be kicking ass, because he will. It will just take him a bit of time to get some of those skills as he's, well, a normal guy. Not everyone can get their biology scrambled like Pete.

And just because Robbie hasn't been scrambled doesn't mean he's completely separate from all things supernatural either!

I think the marvel noir universe is at its best when there's a magical, supernatural undercurrent. This concept isn't super prevalent in the actual comics, but HoplesslyLost on ao3 has done some really cool world building with it.

I think in Robbie's case, where he would be the narrator, "magical realism" would be an interesting avenue to take it. I use this term in particular because I most closely relate it to Toni Morrison in my head, when I first learned about it through her work in high school. For Morrison, the concept was inseparable to blackness and I think for Robbie, where his blackness is so central to his character and his motivations, drawing on that could be more of a service to his character. It feels better to do that than ignore how incredibly racialized his society and story is. It will make his relationship with the spider god, Peter (who I will get to very very shortly), his community, and his own mythos as The Spider Man really interesting and complex.

So it's been established that Robbie doesn't have spider powers. And we all know that Peter did-- or should I say does. One of the spider god's abilities is to bring Peter back to life. She does this in the comics, but not in any of the runs from 2008-2010 (the runs that make up this au). When Peter dies on Ellis Island, he does not think he is coming back from that. Waking up again is a surprise.

Here's where I think the au really takes a left turn. Do I think the Spider God is purely evil and spiteful and has it out for Pete? No, not really. Will I be ramping said traits up to 11 for the au? Yeah, I guess I might. This is because I love a little bit of horror and the came back wrong trope. I will hopefully be fleshing the spider god out in the near future, but I really haven't given her the many hours of thought I have the other characters. For that I'm sorry spider god </3

Peter digs himself out of his grave, more spider than he ever has been. For much of his new, waking life he is more animalistic than not. There is clearly something wrong with him; his joints are too flexible and loose, he's got some eye-shine going on, his skin is pale and his veins are starkly dark beneath it. He's possessed. Someone is puppeteering him, someone who knows a lot-- almost everything about him, but it's clear that the someone isn't him.

And Peter--- the body, it can't be Peter. At least, that's what Robbie thinks when the figure catches his eye the first time. Because Peter is dead and buried, and he has been dead and buried for weeks.

[djevelbl]

Do you perchance have or want to yap about cup head... (Totally not desperate for cup content trust) :3

Random thought, but I wholeheartedly believe that if the stars aligned, he was in a rage-induced blackout & he had his younger self in front of him, Inky Mystery Cuphead would in fact kill him on sight and without hesitation.

Like think about it: he has absolutely NO forgiveness for himself, and even in the latest chapters he STILL doesn't understand that he was a CHILD and thus not even mature enough for a decision like BETTING HIS SOUL??? so much so that back in the Labyrinth (sigh. one day we'll stop talking about this one I swear) & in his dream-prison-thingie the past decade hadn't even happened — if it was up to him, who he is today would be long dead, buried on the Isles probably

So. He'd probably kill his younger self if he could — out of jealousy? Out of anger? idk, I just really really think he would

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[twistmusings]

Hi! I’m new to making request so I’m sorry if it’s like, messy. I have seen like no Twst boysxChubby!Reader anywhere and as a chubby person I think their should be at least a few. So, I was wondering if I could get the First or second years,you can chose ofc,with a chubby partner! I don’t care if it’s fluff,nsfw or whatever I just feel like it would be cute :)

Ps: I absolutely love your writing and Jade on the last post,the tits,ass, or thighs post, made me so euphoric <3

No worries, it's not messy at all! Since I'm a little strapped for time I'm just gonna do the first years for now but I definitely have added the second years for down the line when I have the spoons because chubby partners are cute asf. 😤

If you want some more I've written a post with the tweels in the past with a chubby partner (nsfw) but I always love getting chubby!reader requests.

Fluffy headcanons for first years asking out a Chubby!Reader.

CW: Some mentions of internalized fat phobia on the part of Cater and Vil (in Ace and Epel's parts respectively.)

Ace Trappola

When Ace first started crushing on his partner, is was both cute and so annoying. Literally like puppy love at first, always wanting to be near them and his friends kept catching him staring at them. He would lose his focus on conversation the moment he saw them and more than a few times Riddle had to snap his fingers at him to get his attention back.

Truthfully he kind of had a crisis about it? He is the only one of the froshes who's really been in a relationship and it went badly and he's afraid of screwing up royally. He cares about them a lot and they're so cute and he, on the other hand, would be appropriately described as an "asshole". It was a lot of him screaming into his bedsheets and Deuce giving him a pat on the shoulder and saying "That's rough, buddy."

They gave him a hug once and he thought he was going to die. They were so soft and warm and he's pretty sure he went to heaven for a minute and he had to physically restrain himself from nuzzling up against them and asking to just stay the rest of the day.

They're nice to him and they take his jokes in stride. They're so fucking cute that he has to look away when their shirt rides up a bit during PE. Their laugh is the best sound he's ever heard and he keeps having intrusive thoughts about kissing them. It's like they're perfect. He refuses to admit he's in love with them, though, because he thinks back to that first relationship he had and... God he doesn't ever want to do that to them even accidentally.

Cater caught on to his crush and supported and teased him in equal measure. Though Cater called him a 'chubby chaser' (he didn't have ill intent, but it was definitely a not good joke as he realized in hindsight). Ace snapped and went off on him and if it weren't for some quick reflexes would have punched him in the nose. Ace and Cater both ended up collared by Riddle for the rest of the day, and when asked Ace brushes it off as being 'over something stupid'. He gets a but withdrawn afterward in his sulking because it's easier than admitting that he has feelings.

After nearly decking Cater, his seniors were well aware of his crush and after some discussion, Trey decides to step up and give some encouragement by cornering him in the kitchen.

"You're in love with them, aren't you?"

"Huh? Don't joke around about stuff like that Trey. You know I'm not like that..." Ace trails off as he rubs at the back of his neck, a miserable frown creasing his face.

"I don't think that's true."

"Well it is, so drop it."

"It's okay to be afraid of rejection, you know. Everyone is, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try it." Trey says, not looking up from the fruit that he's cutting.

"And what the hell do you know!? You're about as romantic as a box of rocks!" Ace's frustration rises, and he stands, already in fight mode. But Trey doesn't match his energy-- instead he glances up at Ace with a look that seems to see right through him and Ace ends up slumping back into the kitchen chair and resting both his hands on the back of his neck as he stares at the counter.

There's a long silence that's cut only by the sound of Trey's knife coring apples. Long enough that Trey begins to wonder if this was the wrong time to bring it up and Ace still needed more time.

But, eventually, with a heaving sigh, Ace continues.

"If I hurt them I wouldn't be able to forgive myself." He thunks his head down against the counter. Normally Trey might be more upset that he did since he just cleaned it, but he supposes he can let it slide. Just this once.

"Do you want to hurt them?"

"What? Of course not!"

"So, what's the issue? Are you afraid you won't be able to communicate well? Or that they won't like you back?" Ace grunts, shrugging. Trey takes it to mean both. "You know you can learn to communicate if you try. You're doing it right now."

Ace responds with another sigh.

"Do you trust them?" Trey asks.

Ace lifts his head enough to glare at him.

"Answer the question, Ace. Do you trust them?"

"Yes. Of course I trust them. They're like one of my best friends."

"So why are you holding yourself back? I doubt they're going to hold it against you if you have feelings for them."

There is another long silence, and eventually Ace stands, the scrape of chair legs the only thing signaling his exit as he turns to leave.

Ace ruminates on it for a while, and is encouraged by the others in his dorm too. And Floyd and Jamil. And professor Crewel. (THAT one was embarrassing.)

Eventually he manages to work up the nerve to try asking them out. He has a plan for it: he's going to pull them aside at lunch and ask if they want to go get food with him off campus. (Thanks, Crewel.) After that maybe they could get a slice of cake or ice cream or something and he could ask them out there. Then, he could get them a cute little gift or something and they would be dating before the day was out.... Hopefully.

It all goes to hell immediately. Apparently, since his lesson had run over, they had already gotten lunch and were sitting with everyone. Deuce shoots him a sympathetic look from across the table. Not to mention Grim was being a menace. He gets his food and sits next to them, but his appetite is ruined so he just lets Grim steal his lunch and lays his head down on the table. When they ask if he's alright, he just silently shakes his head where it rests on his crossed arms.

He goes through the rest of his classes and his club meeting in a terrible mood. He, Deuce and them had already planned to hang out for a study group after clubs today and he's dreading it.

He still meets up with the two of them, but his mood is so low he barely speaks. Eventually he says he's not feeling it and says he's just going to head back to the dorms.

MC catches up to him, though, and asks him if they can talk. He catches Deuce from where he stands down the road giving him a thumbs up and nodding his head. He's never quite wanted to strangle him as much as he did in that moment. Clearly he wasn't in the mood for this.

They ask him if he's okay again. He grunts, but then they ask him to please not shut them out. They tell him he's been acting distant and they can't tell if they've done anything wrong, and Ace's heart breaks a little hearing them say that to him. He's been kind of a terrible friend, hasn't he... Well, Trey said he should learn to communicate, and there's no way he's going to dig this hole deeper, right?

"You didn't do anything wrong. I've just been in a bad mood lately." Ace inwardly cringes at the slight lie. It doesn't feel good to be untruthful with them, but he's scared.

"Really? Because you have been avoiding me."

Ace winces, outwardly this time. They seem to immediately get more upset, and Ace can already feel his gut starting to drop. God he fucking sucks at this emotions stuff!

"It's not you. I'm... Going through something right now and it's not going well."

"So you can talk to Deuce about it but not me? He specifically told me I should talk to you because he thought I was the one causing the problem."

Ace is going to kill him. He gapes at them a little, trying to grasp for words, but they cut him off.

"Look, if it's something you can't tell me that's fine--" it's clearly not fine, they're upset and he desperately wants to fix it. "-- but at least don't shut me out entirely. Please? I want to help you, Ace."

"It's not that I can't tell you, I'm just..." God, what words is he supposed to use? Now they look sad and angry and he's floundering.

"You're just what, Ace? Because I'm really starting to think you're lying to me to get out of this conversa--"

"I've been trying to figure out a way to ask you out, alright!?" He spits in a moment of blind panic, just wanting to stop the escalation of this. He doesn't want this to be a fight, but once he realizes what he said he claps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening and face already starting to go red. How fucking embarassing.

They're staring at him silently, and he's quickly adding Trey's name to the list of people he's going to throw hands with the moment he stops mourning this situation.

"You're kidding right?" God that's the worst thing he's ever heard them say.

"I... No." Ace wishes he could shrink into the ground right now. "I like you."

They start laughing and the humiliation is going to kill him. He wants to turn and start walking and only stop once he's under the sea. His face burns.

"Oh my god, Ace, you suck at this." They're still laughing, but before he actually can tuck his tail between his legs and run, they grab him by the wrist and pull him into a tight hug. He's getting very mixed signals, all of a sudden. And now he's trapped.

In spite of it all, he still wants to pull them closer. As if they can read his mind, they squeeze him tighter. He gives up his hopes of escape, and he wants to hide, so he hides his face against their shoulder.

"Of course I'll go out with you, Ace." They say, finally, now that their laughing has ebbed enough. Ace jerks his head up from their shoulder, giving them a wide-eyed, owlish look.

"Wh-- Why'd you start laughing!?" He sputters, pouting. He's relieved and nervous in a new way, now, but he can hardly believe what he's hearing.

"Because the last time I tried to ask you out, you invited Deuce to our study date." They smirk at him.

"You-- well, I-- it's--"

"And the time before that you--"

He stops them by clasping a hand over their mouth, already seeing where this is going. He can feel their grin by the rise in their cheeks and the way their eyes crinkle and glitter with mischief.

"I get it, alright? I'm an idiot. Give me a break, I've already heard it from, like, eight people this week." He sighs, and finally he lets himself do something he's wanted to do for so long. His hand that was covering their mouth shifts to cup the soft slope of their jawline and he leans in to kiss them-- fucking finally!!-- his thumb gliding along their cheek to feel how soft they are. They meet him halfway, and their lips feel so nice against his.

It's quick and chaste, but it's a promise of more. Ace's face still feels hot as he leans their foreheads together. He hears a distant cheer from Deuce.

Finally, he laughs, and says:

"You know if you let me go kick his ass, it could still be a study date."

Deuce Spade

Deuce doesn't even realize he's developing a crush until he starts to find himself getting a little flustered when he tries to talk to them. His words keep coming out wrong, and when they start to laugh and gently correct him his heart starts pounding in his chest. Oh god, is he dying? He's pretty sure he's dying.

It isn't until Ace pokes fun at him one day that he realizes Oh. He's not dying, he's just got a crush on them.

"Deuce, seriously, if you stare at them any harder you're going to burn a hole in the back of their head." Ace snorts, flicking Deuce's arm with his finger rather roughly. It makes Deuce jump, apparently not having heard any of what he said.

"Huh!?" Deuce practically barks it, looking at him with wide eyes as if he'd been entirely unaware of him the entire time. Ace sighs, shaking his head.

"Your crush is getting out of hand. You never even listen to me when they're around. Talk about single-minded..."

"Crush?" Deuce repeats, brows furrowing. "They're not my... not my... oh. Oh. They are aren't they?" There's a litany of emotions that cross his face in those few moments, and Ace simply stares at him like he's dumb.

"You're joking right? You seriously didn't realize you have a huge crush on them? Even you're not that dense!"

Deuce looks back at him, this time wide-eyed with panic, like he's looking at him for answers.

"What... do I do?"

"Huh? What do you mean what do you do? How should I know?"

"Well you've dated someone before. What did you do?"

"I asked them out. And we all know how peachy that turned out." Ace grumbles. "Seriously, I can't help you with this one, bud."

Deuce asks Trey if he can help him to learn how to make some simple sweets so he can bring some over to them. Of course Trey catches on that he might be feeling something for them, so he tries not to rib too hard.

He goes out of his way to include them in things if he can. If he's going out for a morning run, they're invited if they want to. Or, if he's staying in and studying and then watching a movie, they're invited to that too. He's not nearly as bad as Ace at inviting other people along on their 'dates' but there are definitely a few that Ace jumps in on simply by virtue of being his roommate. He's a little more touchy that he used to be, often letting them lay against his shoulder or across his stomach if they're super vegged out.

He has a really hard time actually asking them to date him, though. He just can't ever seem to get the words to come out how he wants them to, and whenever he starts thinking about it he trips on his words and can't quite get them out.

Eventually, he makes a plan on the advice of his mother.

All he tells them is that they will need to dress nicely. Of course, he ends up helping them look for something that will suit them. They seem to be so much more picky than he is, though, because he really thinks they look pretty amazing in everything. They have such nice figure, how could they ever look bad in anything. It takes a while but they seem to find something they like and Deuce feels a little short of breath at how well it accentuates their soft curves. God, is he blushing?

He gives them a date and time and says it's a surprise... and it certainly is quite the surprise.

They smooth out their outfit one final time as they stand up to answer the knock at their door. No sooner do they open it than they have a bouquet thrust toward them.

They jump, and they follow the arm up to where Deuce's face is, pouting slightly and looking away from them with a brilliant red blush tinting his skin. They can't help but to laugh, and Deuce's head whips toward them, looking a little mortified. Before he can run, they wrap their hand around the one holding the bouquet.

"Are you taking me to prom?" They ask, grinning. Deuce opens his mouth but only ends up sputtering ineffectively for several seconds. They wait patiently, and when they see he's frustrated to the point of giving up, they nod their head encouragingly. Deuce sucks in a large breath and begins again, slowly.

"I... I wanted to ask if you would go out with me?" he manages this time, almost painfully earnest.

"Of course Deuce... Uh... forgive me for assuming but... I kind of thought we already were?"

There is a long, long silence.

"HUH?!" Deuce, once again, barks.

As it turns out, him asking them for "study dates" was what had made them assume they were already together. Except he calls them study dates with everyone..... does he have to clear things up with Ace now, too!? (He doesn't, Ace is well aware of what he meant.)

He is super giddy but also extremely flustered. Even so, dinner is nice, and they end up falling asleep curled up together on the couch after watching a movie. Their head is on his chest and Deuce had wrapped a protective arm around them in his sleep.

Jack Howl

Jack starts to realize that he's developing a crush during PE. They are on the same team and he notices how protective he feels over them when he see someone charge at them or them come too close to getting hit by a spelldrive disc. He has never had those sort of feelings for someone outside of his own family, and he realizes almost immediately that it probably means there's something more there.

He has asked his parents and grandparents about what it felt like when they met each other, and they had described a similar feeling. This was a tricky situation, though, because it was super rare for wolf beastmen to develop feelings and rarer for it to be a sign of a true bond. There's a big significance to it since wolf beastmen are largely monogamous and mate for life.

He doesn't ask his parents what to do about it because he thinks it would work them up, not to mention how embarrassing it would be for them to try and talk to him about romance. And he can't really ask anyone else his age-- the only other freshman who's dated has been Ace and he doesn't think he wants his advice on a relationship... So he asks the only other person he can think of.

Jack can see his breath on the air as he jogs, the air is incredibly crisp and refreshingly cold this morning. He sighs, and he suspects that's what prompts what happens next.

"Something on your mind, Jack?" Vil asks, glancing briefly over his shoulder as he keeps the comfortable pace of his run, his ponytail swaying with each movement. "You've been more quiet than you usually are this morning."

Jack grunts.

"First of all, I'm not quiet." Jack protests, and Vil laughs easily at that. Rude. "And it's not... something I really know how to talk about. I don't think you'd know what to do anyway."

"You could give it a shot, you know. I'm more wise than I look." Vil says mirthfully. Jack appreciates that he's gotten better at picking up on his particular brand of bluntness, but he could really do without the teasing that has taken the place of his offence.

"I think I might be in love."

Jack nearly plows into the back of Vil as he stops short. Ah. Right. He's nosy. Jack should have known, honestly.

"With who?"

"MC." Vil clicks his tongue in response and Jack has no idea what that's supposed to mean. Vil turns, examining him carefully, a manicured eyebrow raised, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers against his own bicep considering.

"I could see it." He hums.

"... That's all?"

"Well, what were you hoping I'd tell you?"

"... How to go about this? Or what you think, I suppose." Jack huffs, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking away. "I was hoping you'd know more about how to handle this than I do."

"Well, unfortunately for you, I'm not all that well versed in dating." Vil hums, but before Jack can sink too low into disappointment, he continues. "But I can tell you what I know from other people."

"Alright."

"I've heard it's best to just be upfront about it. Direct, even. That way there's not questioning your intentions and you don't end up dancing around each other."

"You think I should just... ask to date them?"

"You're trying to figure out if you think this is something that will last, right?"

"Yes."

"Then it can't hurt anything to try, right? There's no beastman rule that says you have to get it 100% right the first time, at least as far as I know. You can still experiment and see if it works out. The worst that could happen would be that things don't work out."

Jack is... a pretty direct person, so he can't really find a reason not to just be direct like Vil suggested. Of course, he knows that his version of direct might be a little much-- there's a time and place for everything.

He decides to wait until they are together alone... which is easier said than done when they're always with a variety of the freshmen. It takes a couple of weeks and he has to sneak it in while the others are distracted, but he sees his opportunity and he takes it.

"MC." Jack calls.

They stop, letting Ace and Deuce to charge forward in their own little world-- in an apparent competition to see who can find something the fastest. It's silly, and Jack wasn't paying attention to them. Hadn't been since they'd gotten into the library.

"I've been meaning to ask you." Jack takes a deep breath, feeling the way his chest knots nervously as he tries to push through it to say what he wants to say.

"Are you ok?"

"I was wondering if you would like to try dating." He says, finally able to get it out of his mouth and into the air.

They give him a shocked look, and their face twinges a little red. Jack doesn't look away, needing to know the answer in spite of the urge to look away.

"Us?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Yes, of course I'd be interested in taking a shot at dating you, Jack." They smile rather shyly. Jack can't help himself, feeling his mouth curl up into a smile and his tail wagging at his back. "Like... today? Did you want this to be a date."

"I was thinking we could get dinner--" Jack is cut off by the sound of a loud crash, and then Ace and Deuce bickering. Sensing they were imminently about to be thrown out of the library, he corrects himself. "I was thinking we could get dinner alone, with just the two of us. Maybe this weekend?"

They smile at him and nod.

"Sounds great."

Epel Felmier

Epel has never really been much of a romantic. Sure, he conceptually knows what people want out of a relationship-- what is ideally romantic. But that's never really been his idea of romance-- he's always just wanted to have someone who looked at him and saw him the way that he wanted to be seen. Sure, he might be learning how to use his cuteness as a weapon, but that doesn't mean he doesn't still want to be perceived as being strong and capable. So, when they do exactly that, he really doesn't find it hard at all to accept his crush.

Epel also thinks they're super attractive. To be quite honest, he's never really found people who were super thin attractive, and he thinks them being chubby suits them so well. It makes them look healthy and strong. Sometimes he (embarrassingly) catches himself staring at them.

With as observant as Vil and Rook are, it takes practically no time for them to pick up on his crush. Vil makes it known that he finds them to be pretty plain, honestly, and he makes an offhand remark criticizing their lifestyle.

"It's really a shame-- it seems like they probably indulge too much. They have such potential to look amazing."

Epel moves before he can even think beyond the blind rage he feels. Epel has never, ever managed to get the upper hand on Vil in a magic fight one on one, but...

His right hook collides solidly with Vil, sending him reeling backward as he reaches up to clutch at his cheek. It's far from his usual grace as he stumbles and lands on his rump, looking up at Epel with shock.

"You shut your mouth." Epel says it so coldly that Vil looks taken aback all over again, eyebrows arching toward his hair line as he rubs at the place where Epel made contact with his face. "I don't ever wanna hear you say nothin' about their lifestyle ever again. I'll deal with you sayin' whatever you want to say about me but you leave them out of this. Nobody asked fer your goddamned opinion anyway and not everyone wants to look as twiggy as you do anyway."

Epel takes another, single step toward Vil, fist already clenched to swing again as he seethes with rage. Were Rook not quick on his feet, it would have likely continued to escalate. Instead, Rook catches Epel under both arms and bodily pulls him back.

"Monsieur Poison Apple, compose yourself!" Despite Rook's hold on him, he jerks against him like he's been possessed with the spirit of a badger. It's not until he is fully dragged out of the room and away that he seems to calm down, and all the while Vil sits on the ground in stunned silence.

Of course, things get a little strained between Vil and Epel for a while after that. Moreso than usual, even. However, Vil would eventually realize he has been the one in the wrong in the situation, and will apologize. Likewise, Epel will apologize for throwing a punch. They do manage to smooth things over, but they don't talk about the crush much beyond that-- likely because Vil is concerned that he might accidentally push some buttons without meaning to.

Epel ends up getting them tickets to see a new movie when it releases and also manages to get permission to do so off campus in one of the small town districts of Sage's Island. He invites them to go along and plans to ask them to be his significant other after the movie during a nice stroll along one of the beaches of Sage's Island.

Vil and Rook might not talk to him or give him unsolicited advice, but they cannot in good conscience let him wear what he was going to wear on the date. Absolutely not, he looked like he was ready to plow a farm field. Instead they managed to dress him up pretty smartly in a nice suit jacket and slacks that are cut to make him look taller than he is. Epel feels a bit like he's being fussed over for school picture day the entire time, though.

"You can see the moon reflecting on the water it's so calm."

"Yep. I think it's my favorite part of the island." Epel admits, as he watches them look out over the water. He isn't sure which one of them instigated it, but at some point they linked hands and haven't seemed to find it in them to drop them yet. It's nice. Pretty and quiet out, and he hopes that they're as relaxed as he is. "I wanted to ask you..."

"Mm?" They glance back at him, their smile bright.

"I... was thinking maybe we should try... us. Being together." They stop short, blinking at him.

"Are you asking me out?"

Epel flushes, but he laughs regardless.

"I think I already did, didn't I?" He feels his nerves twist a little bit, but they're smiling at him and it's what he's holding on to. "What do you say?"

"Yes, of course. What do you take me for?" They say, and then grin at him like it's a challenge, and Epel can't help but to feel like he's falling a little more in love with them from the sight alone.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek could never ever understand what his mother saw in his father, and didn't think he ever would until one day, surprise, you're in love with a human, Sebek. They had somehow managed to worm their way into his heart our of sheer obstinance alone. He'd never quite met someone other than Master Malleus or Master Lilia that commanded quite so much power over him-- that they would speak and he would shut up and listen. That he admired so thoroughly.

His other dormmates pick up on it instantly. As does anyone else remotely familiar with Sebek. He doesn't act like a braggart around them, and he doesn't even talk exclusively about Malleus around them. It's a very easy thing to pick up on.

Lilia starts ruminating about young love aloud during a meal one day, and Sebek praises his wisdom... but also admits that he's confused why the subject even came up.

Silence. Sebek watches Lilia's eyes widen, then glances to Silver to see him giving him a similar owlish look. Had he said something wrong?

When he sees Malleus is also giving him that same look, he can't help but to feel himself starting to blush, shame starting to creep in from his apparent social faux pas.

"I... apologize." He hesitates shrinking into himself ever so slightly, still not truly knowing what he's said wrong. It seems to be what breaks Lilia, and he starts laughing. Hard. It takes him several seconds of agonizing embarrassment on Sebek's part before he manages to calm himself enough to speak.

"No, Sebek..." Lilia smiles fondly, dabbing a tear from the corner of his eye. "It was about you. You're in love with them."

It washes over him like a rush of cold water.

"I'm WHAT!?" His volume skyrockets, making Malleus and Silver wince slightly.

It becomes a whole crisis for him. After all, he's spent his whole like knowing that he was better than humans, and that his mother was a fool for falling in love with his father when she could have had any fae she wanted with as strong as she was. And... now here he is, suddenly realizing he's harboring feelings for a human.

Initially he tries to force it out of his head. Not thinking about it at all was surely the most rational course of action. It would only really serve to frustrate him because he kept thinking about them. Thinking about how they would command his attention so easily-- about how they looked amazing when they would dress up and how it would command respect-- how they had those stupid, perfect, kissable lips and if he was any weaker a man he would be cursing Lilia for making him realize it. He hadn't thought about kissing them before, and now he can't seem to get the thought out of his mind.

His second approach is to let himself indulge in thoughts... and thoughts alone. It won't hurt anyone if he just thinks about them and his pride can remain intact. Or... well, it remains intact until he catches himself laying on his stomach and kicking his legs in the air like a schoolgirl while he imagines what it must be like to hold them in his arms. Embarrassing. Utterly devastating.

When there is nothing else he can think to do himself to avoid or ignore it... he decides to use his secret last resort.

"... Master Lilia, what should I do if I'm in love with them?" Sebek hangs his head as he says it through gritted teeth.

"You're still hung up on that?" Lilia asks haltingly, as if he hadn't been the person to bring it to Sebek's attention to begin with! "You shouldn't sound so unappreciative, Sebek. Love is a wonderful thing."

"Yes but--" Sebek sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face as Lilia watches him search for his words. It's rare to see him so flustered as this. "They're... they're a human."

"Yep. Sure as the sky is blue and that Malleus loves ice cream. And?"

"And??"

"What about it? Does that change how you feel?"

"... No... Should it?" Lilia tuts at him, crossing to where he's seated and resting a hand on either side of his chin and encouraging him to look up at him. Sebek doesn't want to, but complies anyway because he can't find it in himself to refuse Master Lilia, not when he's already being so gracious.

"Sebek. You need to let go of those antiquated ideas. Life is too short. For us and for humans." It's scolding, but it's gentle. Somehow, Sebek still feels like he wants to cry. "If you are in love with them, and it's not hurting anyone, then be in love with them. I think you should give it your all to chase what makes you happiest."

After Lilia's pep-talk, Sebek vows with renewed enthusiasm that he's going to change his approach. This time... he wants them. He wants to tackle the hurdles to see where this road with the human is leading. And it all starts with a declaration!

"Sebek... I... Please!" They are bright red, and they are hiding their face in their hands and the collar of their uniform the best they can. There are a few snickers from throughout the hall, and quite a crowd is starting to gather. Sebek doesn't pay it any mind, instead singing their praises as he recites the poem he made for them the night before.

"And you have eyes that could rival the king of Briar Valley himself!"

"God..." He's so loud, and they really, really don't have the heart to tell him that the poem is the single cringiest thing that they have ever heard in their lives. "Sebek!"

Ace and Deuce are standing behind them, barely containing their laughter. They hear Ace repeat a line to Deuce in a mocking tone under his break and the barely restrained snort that leaves Deuce. Traitors. Both of them.

"And you have lips that--"

"That's enough!" They yelp, and in a moment of panic, they shut him up the only way that they can think to-- by hauling up by the lapels of his uniform jacket and kissing him. Sebek is cut-off mid-sentence, but his eyes flutter closed. It's more gentle than they ever expected he could be, softly returning the kiss as he lifts his hands to rest on each of their elbows. They linger for several seconds, long enough that they're sure he's no longer going to keep reciting godawful poetry at them, and then they let him go. He looks dazed and giddy in equal measure as he opens his eyes again, a deeply pleased smile gracing his features. "Yes, I will go out with you. Please just... just stop doing all of that. It's kind of embarrassing with everyone here."

Sebek blinks at them a bit lost, and then looks around, only now seeming to notice the crowd that had formed around the two of them. He frowns deeply, shooting a sharp glare at those in his immediate gaze.

"Alright, that's enough, there's nothing to see here." He grouses, and ah there's the Sebek that everyone knows. Thankfully him being so forceful seems to encourage them to scatter. The only one who remains is Lilia, who is standing there, beaming like a proud father. He claps, delightedly.

"Wonderful show, Sebek."

God, what were they getting themself into?

[areiacannaid]

Declination

What if Halt joined Morgarath instead of the Rangers? A small AU based off of this prompt/story idea from @nilswolf8.

Link to read on AO3

“I could use a man like you in my ranks.” Morgarath said, finally getting to the point behind the clandestine nighttime meeting he had summoned Halt to.

“I can’t say I care much for the idea of being used.” Halt replied, truth cutting through the sarcastic way he had phrased it. 

“Merely an expression,” Morgarath assured with a wave of his hand. “Regardless, I would value someone with talents like yours. And there’s much that I could offer you in return for your services.”

And, now that the offer was out in the open, Halt allowed himself to consider it.

When he had first come to Araluen, he’d had a vague idea of joining the Rangers. That was how he had been trained, and their high, influential, position in Araluen was no secret. He’d been interested in seeing what he could gain by working his way up to the top of such an organization. Although he had always preferred to work in the shadows, power promised a sense of control and protection in a way nothing else could manage. Halt had spotted his opportunity when he met, and saved, Crowely in that tavern. But the Rangers were not the seat of power they had once been and the tides of war were shifting.

Which left his choice between Crowley and Morgarath. He knew enough to guess that Crowley might be the safer person—but, in the end, it really wasn’t about people.

Halt had learned long ago there was no such thing as love or loyalty. People only ever used others for as long as they had something to gain, and then simply discarded them when that use had run its course. All that really mattered was how much one could extract from those connections before they invariably died.

The choice really came down to what could be attained in the end, and what path offered the greatest chance for survival.

Halt had no real sense of connection to the Rangers. That had ended the day his old life had, deep within the cool blackness of the river that had nearly claimed his life.

A sharp memory of pain caused him to reach a hand towards his chest. The passage of time had done nothing to temper his memory of that day, and he doubted it ever would. He’d been reborn from the water that had been intended as his grave. He’d clawed his way to the bank, gasping for breath, water stained red and pink with the blood his injuries dripping around him. His mouth had been seared with the ash of desperate but unheeded words—the last time he had ever called for mercy or help.

His fingers brushed against the twisted scar tissue beneath his clothes, but felt no sensation save for the numbness of severed nerve endings. It was a blank nothingness that matched the cavernous feeling that had settled deep inside his chest since that day. He didn’t know if he even remembered anymore what it truly felt like to feel.

Everyone he'd ever thought he’d loved had either tried to kill him, or had left him to die. So, connections and sentiment meant nothing to him.

In the end it really was an easy choice. Morgarath simply had more to offer than the Ranger’s ever could. He had the greater odds for victory and therefore promised a greater chance of survival and a greater chance of potential gain. It was the smarter, more logical option. And he’d be lying if he said he was unsympathetic to anyone daring to rebel against a vitiated King and bring an end to the corrupt nobility he so despised.

“Well, what do you say?” Morgarath’s sibilant voice broke the grip of his revelry.

“I’d say we should talk terms,” Halt said.

Morgarath smiled, eyes bright with a calculating light. “Let's hear them then.”

He listened as Halt stated his counter offers, reasonable terms for spoils and a higher more autonomous position on Morgarath’s ranks.

“Prove your worth to me and you will have all that you asked for,” Morgarath said, holding out his hand to signal his agreement.

Halt took the offered hand.

~x~X~x~

Halt stood in the wreckage of a burning village, the place where the last vestiges of the King’s army had fled after their crushing defeat at Hackham Heath. The King and several of his knights had escaped—but they had been the only ones to do so.

Halt’s strategy, combined with Morgarath’s Wargal army, had decimated the King’s forces. They had chased the last of them here to this village; a place they had tried, and failed, to find refuge and defensive footing.

The broken remnants of the King’s army had not been enough to defend this small village from the massive force of Wargals Morgarath had sent. That was clear enough from the carnage around him. The bodies of Wargals, soldiers, and villagers lay intermingled where they had fallen: the unavoidable price of war.

Halt inhaled the sharp smoke from the fires burning around him, his bow at full draw and leveled at the last standing soldier—if a child could really be called an enemy soldier.

The boy, no more than twelve years old at the most if Halt had to guess, stood defiantly, sword held defensively in front of him, eyes shining with wild determination. Before his feet sprawled the unmoving bodies of Wargals and even a few men that he had slain. Behind him, clinging desperately to his legs was a younger boy, probably no older than five if he had to guess, and very likely the last survivor of the villagers that had once called this place home. His large brown eyes were blown wide in pain and primal terror.

“Why haven’t you released your arrow?” Morgarath’s sneer came from behind him. “He is the enemy. One less of them breathing is all the better for us. Or is his age too much for your scruples, Halt?”

“It isn’t that,” Halt said blandly. “It’s that killing him would be a waste. I saw him before when I reconnoitered the King’s army camp. He’s the son of Sir David; the newly appointed Battlemaster to the King. I figured he'd be worth more to you alive as leverage.”

“Indeed?” A vicious gleam came to life in Morgarath’s eyes even as his lips curled in a cruel smile. “Then size him and kill the village boy.”

Halt saw the older boy’s eyes widen at that callous order, flashing for the first time with fear and, just as quickly, calculation hastily covered.

He brandished his sword as the soldier’s closed in.

“If I’m worth something to you alive then so is he,” he addressed Morgarath, indicating the younger boy with a tilt of his head. “He’s my brother. If it’s ransom you want, my father would pay for us both.”

“Your brother?” Morgarath challenged scathingly.

“Illegitimate, but yes. My father fell in love with his mother when he was last stationed near this village,” he explained hastily.

As Halt watched the boy, he found himself feeling an unexpected measure of interest towards him. He was skilled in combat, seemed more intelligent than the average knight, and was quick on his feet.

He was also a liar.

The young village boy was not any blood relation of his despite his story, Halt was certain. His tells were minor ones, but they were there. He was merely trying to protect the younger boy from death, though Halt couldn’t piece together a motive as to why—he couldn’t fathom what the boy possibly stood to gain from it.

Every word had been a falsehood. But the greed in Morgarath’s expression showed plainly that he hadn’t caught it. He seemed far more interested in the added leverage of a potential scandal. Halt, for his part, said nothing. It wasn't his responsibility to keep Morgarath from being manipulated by a child. That was something the Warlord should be able to do for himself.

“Take them both,” Morgarath ordered.

Halt shrugged. It didn’t matter much to him either way. 

~x~X~x~

“Perhaps you could tell me why it is that your father doesn’t value your life enough to agree to my demands?” Morgarath’s raging carried almost as loudly through the dungeon passages as the anguished sounds of screaming did.

It had been over a month since the capture of the two boys, since the Battle of Hackham Heath where King Duncan had escaped with his a few of his knights and commanders. The King had holed up in a fortress in the far north, with eighteen fiefs still under his command. Morgarath’s ploy to use Sir David’s son, or rather ‘sons’, as leverage had not met with the success he wanted.

Having received a less than favorable response to his ransom and blackmail demands, Morgarath had flown into a rage and decided to vent it on the object of his anger. Halt’s mouth turned down faintly at the uselessness of it all. Like all emotions, rage was ultimately pointless and would fix things as little as torturing a child for the decision of their parents. Which was to say, not at all.

Morgarath would have been better served to lower the conditions he set for the boys’ safe return. Halt had always known that no knight with the barest trace of loyalty or duty to his King would have agreed to such concessions—even if he did profess to love his son. The life of two boys weighed against the safety of what little remained of Duncan’s kingdom was a clear logical choice.

Halt rounded the corner, stepping past the guards there. They did nothing to stop him as he’d become a more than familiar figure.

“Were you just that much of a disappointment to him or does he just not care?” Morgarath demanded of the Battlemaster’s son.

Halt entered the cell silently, watching as Morgarath lunged at the helpless knight’s son, watched as the youngest boy strained against the chains holding him, tears streaming down his face as he screamed desperately, despite his obvious exhaustion, for Morgarath to stop. For his part, the knight’s son was far past the point of words, past even the point of screaming anymore. He did not answer the furious warlord. The lack of response only seemed to infuriate Morgarath more.

“Maybe my demand wasn’t taken seriously enough. Maybe I’ll start chopping off pieces to send to him. Maybe then he will listen! Maybe then he will start to care!”

As he said it, he drew and raised his sword, edge down for a cutting stroke at the boy beneath him. The boy’s eyes, though barely conscious and filled with pain, still glistened defiantly. Brave and defiant, just as the younger one was.

Halt felt something unidentifiable stirring in his chest at about the same time he felt the idea, which had been stirring in the back of his mind ever since he’d predicted the failure of Morgarath’s ransom scheme, solidify into clear purpose.

“Hold a moment, if you would, Lord Morgarath,” Halt said calmly, but loud enough to be heard as he stepped forwards.

“You had better have a good reason for interrupting me,” Morgarath hissed venomously, stopping his blade mid-swing by only the barest frenzied grip of his self-control. 

“I do. Before you damage him irreparably," Halt said, gesturing toward the downed boy with an inclination of his head. “I have a proposition. Why don’t you give both boys to me?”

“For what purpose?” Morgarath asked.

The rasp in his voice and the clenching of his fingers told Halt that he was only seconds away from losing his temper entirely. Halt knew he needed to be concise and quick if he wanted to be successful.

“The way I see it, if their father already refused the deal, it's unlikely there is anything you can do that would cause him to suddenly value his children more than his duty or position. But they can still be useful to us. The King still has many Rangers left at his disposal and they even now give him a greater advantage in this war. I figured that you could use a similar advantage. What if I could train for you, your own force of assassins with the skills of the Rangers? We could rival and surpass Duncan in every aspect. These two,” he indicated the boys, “could be the start to it. I see potential in them already.”

“And if you are wrong about them?” Morgarath asked, though Halt could see that he was already growing interested in the idea, the familiar hungry gleam was back in his gaze.

“Then,” Halt shrugged, “you can finish what you started.”

Morgarath seemed to think a moment before sheathing his sword.

“If you want them, take them,” he said dismissively, words languid. “They are no longer of any use to me.”

[myheartxmyman]

'Let me be the own to show you a love that doesn't hurt. One where you won't have to heal from'

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.

[connorsui]

In Your Arms

Zayne x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, boyfriend zayne wanting peace and you give it, manz wanna make u a wife, no warnings we don't die around here...

Synopsis: Zayne finds solace in the warmth of your presence amidst the chaos of his demanding career, and silently, he cherishes every moment, hoping one day to make your bond official

Note: I wanted doctor zayne to cure my heart ....so I made doctor zayne want to make me a wife ...

w.c: 1,070

Zayne’s footsteps echoed softly in the sterile, dimly lit hospital corridor, his mind still entangled in the complexities of the latest surgery he’d performed. His shoulders were tense, a slight frown creasing his usually composed expression as he made his way out of the building. It had been another long day, filled with the kind of high-stakes decisions that most people couldn’t fathom. But as soon as he saw you waiting for him by the entrance, your face lighting up at the sight of him, something in him softened.

The sight of you there, with your soft smile and eyes that sparkled just for him, made the world tilt back into place. The weight of the day fell away, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the warmth of your presence. He didn’t need to say anything; the way his eyes lingered on you, tracing the curve of your lips and the gentle slope of your shoulders, spoke volumes.

“Hi, Love! ” you greeted him, your voice a gentle balm to his frayed nerves.

“Hello, Sweetheart” he replied, his tone low and warm, the single word carrying a weight of unspoken affection. His hands itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms right there in front of everyone, but Zayne had always been careful with his emotions, especially in public. Instead, he settled for a small, almost imperceptible smile that you had come to recognize as his version of a bear hug.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft rustle of your clothing the only sound in the quiet night air. It wasn’t until you were inside his car, the doors closed, and the world shut out, that he allowed himself the luxury of touch. His hand reached out, fingers lightly grazing yours before he intertwined them, the simple gesture grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“I would like to first apologize to you …” he murmured after a few minutes, his voice laced with the kind of guilt that came from too many late nights and missed dinners.

Surprised; you questioned. “What for exactly?”

“I just know I haven’t been around much.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a soft, understanding smile. “Zayne, It's alright… I know you’re doing everything you can…But…let's focus on the now.. is there anything I can do to make your night better?”

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of fatigue or frustration. Instead, he found only warmth and concern, your eyes silently urging him to let you take care of him for once. The tension in his chest eased a fraction, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Just being with you makes everything better,” he admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the day. “I don’t need anything else… just you.”

The ride to his apartment was filled with quiet conversation, the kind that flowed easily between two people who were entirely comfortable with each other. When you arrived, Zayne wasted no time pulling you close as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. His arms wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest as he exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.

“You’re so tense,” you murmured, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, the familiar motion soothing both of you. “Why don’t you let me run you a bath? Or make you some tea?”

He tightened his hold on you, shaking his head slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “No, just… this is what I need. You’re what I need.”

The way he clung to you, as if letting go would mean losing the one thing keeping him grounded, made your heart ache with a mix of love and concern. He was always so strong, so capable, but even Zayne had his limits, and you could see that he’d reached them tonight.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you suggested softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve to rest.”

He nodded against you, and you led him to his bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. Zayne moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate as he turned to face you, his hands settling on your waist.

“I’m sorry I’m not more… put together tonight,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to be anything other than yourself with me,” you whispered back, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I love you just as you are, Zayne.”

His breath hitched slightly at your words, and he pressed his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart swell with emotion. There was no rush, no urgency—just the deep, abiding love that had grown between you over time, steady and unshakable.

When he pulled back, his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his eyes meeting yours in silent question. You nodded, and he carefully lifted your shirt over your head, his hands warm against your skin as he undressed you with the same precision he used in surgery.

Once you were both stripped down; Zayne pulled you into bed, his arms wrapping around you as he settled you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as you laid together in the quiet.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

Zayne smiled against your hair, his hold on you tightening slightly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. In that moment, with you wrapped up in his arms, he felt complete, as if all the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “ — to be here with you… it’s all I need.”

You nestled closer, your heart swelling with love for the man who had given so much of himself to others, yet asked for so little in return. “I’m here, Zayne. I’m always here.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Zayne couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted this—wanted you—every day for the rest of his life. And one day, he would make that dream a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, savoring the warmth of your body against his as he followed you into sleep.

Doctor zayne with a need for you is the only man I will ever need

[nisuna]

I'm baaackk ha ha ㅠㅠ I just got really inspired soo...here we go!

my first multi-jjk men-mega-drabble huhuhu

I didn't include their names specifically in each drabble in case you want to think of someone else maybe :^) these are just some of my headcannons!

puuuuhh I usually write all of my stuff in one sitting, but I actually wrote this over the span of a few days the brain juices were flowing I really got into it, they turned out way longer than I anticipated, but anyway without further ado hope you enjoy

-characters aged up as needed we know the drill-

TW: dacryphilia, degradation, name calling/pet names, bitch, slut, good girl, honey, sweetheart, babe, baby, blowjob, a smidge of angst, comfort, impact play, oral m&f receiving, doggy, mating press, multiple positions, riding, missionary, choking, safe words, overstimulation, lmk if I forgot anything!!

♡featuring: toji, geto, gojo, choso, nanami, yuji, megumi♡

♡masterlist♡

----------------strictly 18+; MDNI------------------

JJk Men making you cry during Sex

fushiguro toji

"Dumb bitch, can't even suck my cock right.", he scoffed and pulled your hair even tighter.

Endure it. Whats up with you today you're usually so into this, but today his words were hitting too close to home. You could feel tears gather and saliva drip onto your sore thighs.

"Damn are you crying? Are you serious?", he laughed. "Does sucking my cock get you off so much? Here take this."

He pulls your face flush against his stomach, with too much force making you gag and shut your eyes.

You tapped his thighs three times ending it with a scratch, your safe word.

"Oh fuck I-"

He cussed before you let out a deep sob covering your face with your shaking hands. You felt so embarassed, runny nose and saliva dripping down your chin.

"Shit, come here." he reached out to you, but you pulled away as soon as his fingers grazed your shoulders. your throat was burning, voice hoarse while you continued crying.

"Y/N."

Hearing your name snapped you out of your distraught state, finally looking at him. He was sitting across from you, one arm spread out while the other was patting his lap signalling for you to come and sit on it. You took a few deep breaths, wiping your face and finally allowing yourself to fall in his embrace.

"Was that too much?"

"I've just been really stressed lately, I thought this would take my mind off of things but i guess I made it worse.", you sighed.

You distracted yourself with playing with his rough palm and thick finders while he continued.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I dunno...", you trailed off when he interlocked your fingers

"Hey, look at me.", he pulled your chin up. "I know I'm usually pretty mean and strict, but I'm not a monster, you know. You can tell me stuff like that. I don't mind vanilla once in a while.", he smirked down at you

"Pft!", was what left your mouth before you elbowed him. "That's good to know. I just didn't want to look weak and sensitive in front of you..."

"That's nothing new you know? I know that in comparison to me you're way- OW"

"Alright, alright mister that's enough. You've cheered me up, don't push it.", you grimaced while pulling his cheeks.

"Yesh, ma'am.", he grinned,bringing his hand to his forehead in a salute.

You let out a sigh. "Just shut up and hold me a bit more.... ", you said while nuzzling your face in his neck

He didn't say another word and just kissed the top of your head, wrapping his strong arms around you.

You got to see a new side to your boyfriend today and it wasn't half bad. You could get used to this soft and caring persona of his.

geto suguru

He's been going at it for what feels like hours. He has eaten you out in every position imaginable. From face sitting to eating you out fron the back he's done it all today. But right now he had you spread out on the bed with your legs draped over his broad shoulders. The way his eyes were eating you up, had you constantly squirm away. The hand that was splayed over your tummy kept you in place, however. Between thrusting his fingers he kept littering your sensitive thighs with bites and sucks.

You were huffing his name, hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You looked incredibly attractive to him, the way you were offering your whole body to him. He was getting off to that as much as you were getting off on his tongue and fingers.

Each orgasm that washed over you felt more intense than the previous one. As you were nearing the nth one this night you began smooshing your cunt into his face more aggressively and pulling his hair making him groan. Your squishy thighs felt heavenly around his head and he thought that getting smothered to death would be a fine way to go.

You were starting to sob, tears collecting at your cheeks, making him look up at you. When he was about to pull away and ask if you were okay you pulled him back against you.

"I said don't stop fuuuck!", you whined.

Eyes teary lips bitten swollen, you looked so messy and he knew that making you cry was his new kink. So he just smirked, licked his lips and finger fucked you through another orgasm.

"Fuck fuck fuck!!", your eyes shot open.

When he pulled away he grinned with his tongue sticking out. "Don't worry, we'll he here all night, sweetheart. Cum as much as you want.", he whispered biting along your thigh and kissing your ankle.

gojo satoru

When you first suggested role play he was oddly enthusiastic about it. He became hesitant when you mentioned spanking.

"Wait, babe, are you sure about that?"

"I can take it, you're not that strong.", you rolled your eyes. "And be as nasty and mean as you can. You can do that for me right, big boy?"

"Don't come crying to me later, missy."

The start was good you were taking your punishment well. He was pounding away from behind, pulling your hair in between mean spanks to your reddening cheeks. You were challenging him between every thrust and spank. He was getting ded up with you but tried to stay composed.

"That's all you got?", you mocked. Now he's had it, So he started hitting your thighs and going inwards.

"Wait hold on what are you-? Ah-", you yelped shortly after earning yourself a mean slap to your pussy for all the mockery.

"What's up princess? All that big talk just to look this pathetic.", his words were getting to you way more than you had expected.

"We din't talk about this, asshole ow-", you tried to stay strong.

"Just shut up and take it."

Those words broke the dam and your tears came spilling from your eyes and onto the pillows beneath you. At first he didn't realise those were bad tears as he teased you, "You cryin? C'mon big girls dont cry,? he thought it was part of your role play so he landed another harsh slap on your ass cheek, it stung and you lost it.

"STOP fuck no more...please. I get it. I give up."

"Babe are you alright? Shit. Hey, hey, c'mere.", he turned you around, holding you up by the waist.

As he was wiping away your tears he spoke, "Now that we know you can't handle much. How about a safe word for the future? Maybe purple, hm?"

You didn't like his tone so you pulled his ear

"Aaahhh purple purple", he giggled.

"No, it'll lose meaning if you just say it like that. And just so you know, I'm not weak, you're just way too strong.", you shot him a glare.

"Sorry sorry.", he put his arms up in defeat. After a few soft kisses and hugs he spoke up again.

"Have you calmed down? Wanna go again?", he dared to ask wiggling his eyebrows, which only earned him a slap across his chest

"PURPLE!" he panicked.

"SHUT UP!!!"

choso kamo

From the first time he got to hug you he became painfully aware of the obvious size difference between the two of you. And since then he became deathly afraid of accidentally hurting you. He always tried to controll his strength around you, especially during sex when he bends you however he pleases and pushed you into positions you didn't know you could assume.

He was a gentle giant, however, so imagine his shock when you suggested that he should hurt you on purpose. You know, be a little mean play rough.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Pleeaasee, I know you're always holding back I wanna know how strong you really are.", you purred, sliding a finger across his clothed chest.

"I can't be mean to you.", he dead panned.

"Why not? You're mean to people all the time.", you blinked up at him.

Well, I actually care about you.", he thought to himself but soon gave in to your begging.

Fine, I'll try. But tell me if it gets too much.

"Yaay!! Thanks.", you stood on your tippie toes to peck his cheek.

That's how you found yourself riding him like there was no tomorrow. His cock was hitting you so deliciously deep you were starting to lose your mind. The slaps you asked to give you across your face were lighter than you'd like but beggars can't be choosers. And when he first spanked you, you could feel tears sting your eyes.

He took notice and slowed down his pace.

"Nooo mmh I like it, please, you shook your head, desperately rolling your hips into him.

"Baby look at me? You're crying!! Does it hurt, let's stop, c'mon."

"No not at all, i love it...it feel so ah good. I can feel you all the way up here. Mmh don't stop.", you mewled while pulling his hand to press against your tummy.

Fuck the sight of your pink cheeks and teary eyes did turn him on. It was making him crazy actually.

"Fuck, you have to take responsibility for being so fucking hot.", he growled and you received your long awaited hard spanks.

"Yes, hit me some more, please<3", he swore he saw hearts in your eyes. "Be mean, call me names."

"You slut...", he tried and that had your toes curl and eyes roll back

"Yeah, I'm your fucking slut, just for you. Give it to me more.", you pulled his hand to your mouth to suck on his thick fingers. After placing them on your tits he gave tem a few pinches before grabbing handfulls of your ass. Meanwhile you pressed your chest against his face, essentially drowning him in your swollen tits. You swore you came one step closer to heaven with each thrust against your cervix.

nanami kento

You were currently folded in half with your husband thrusting away at your cunt. You two were practically sticking to each other at this point. He lifted your hips up, putting your feet on his shoulders and holding your legs in place with a strong arm. The new angle made you see stars. After a few thrusts he brought his thick fingers to your swollen clit. The speed of his hips was brutal and the circles he was rubbing with his fingers felt almost painful.

"Wait if you keep that up I'm gonna- oh fuck", you gasped eyes blown wide open.

"Well, that's the whole point honey.", he mused kissing your ankle.

As he continued his ministrations you came with a loud sob, shaking when he kept playing with your clit.

"Shit, no more pleaseee", you tried grabbing his hand, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes.

He only stopped when he saw you cover your face with shaky hands. That was when he finally set your legs down and kissed your hands

"Hey, don't hide. Look at me."

"N-no, I don't want you to see me in such a pathetic state", you cried and tried to squirm away from his burning gaze.

You heard a low chuckle rumble through his chest before he grabbed your hands with one of his, pinning them above your head. He leaned down and caught your lips in a hungry kiss.

"How could you ever look pathetic to me. Do you understand how perfect you look beneath me, hm?" I know that you want to go again.", he mused kissing away your tears abd letting go of your hands.

You gave him a weak nod, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

"Don't worry. This time I'll make you feel even better.", he whispered against your neck before starting to roll his hips into you once more.

itadori yuji

Earlier he was boasting to you that he has been researching how to choke someone the right way. And at first it felt just right, but once he got more and more into snapping his hips into you, low groans leaving his lips, his grip changed. Instead of light pressure that was making your head spin just right, he was almost completely cutting off your airway now.

You tried to adjust in his grip in between high pitched moans and mewls leaving your mouth at how he bullied himself inside you. But to no avail, he just added a second hand. Once you were getting dizzy you tried to mutter your safe word.

"Pine-"

"Pain? You like that, huh? Wow baby I don't now you were such a masochist."

He squeezed you even harder. Your eyes shot open, tears spilling out as you clawed at this firm hand around your neck. You could barely talk.

"PINEAPPLE!", you finally managed to shriek.

His hips immediately came to a halt, pulling out and detaching his huge palms from your neck. he could clearly see the red fingerprints he left behind

"Baby! My god, I'm so sorry are you okay-?"

A loud cough left your mouth, shutting him up. You took a few deep breaths, panic written all over your face and you tried to smooth over the sore area. At first you didn't even notice the tears that kept falling from your eyes, you were to focused to catch your breath again.

He was shocked and so disappointed in himself. He actually hurt you even after all his research.

When you continued to rub your neck, small "ows" left your mouth and that snapped him out of it. He laid down and reached his arms out. you immediately fell into his embrace.

"Sh sh its okay you're safe I'm so sorry", he reassured while gently stroking your hair. You were still shaking but your breathing soon evened out. Your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his heart hammering like crazy. A stark contrast to his composed, soothing voice. Must've been shocking to him as well, you thought to yourself before speaking up.

"Yes I'm fine, thank you.", you looked up and pecked his lips.

"Let's never do this again.", he mumbled while squeezing you flush against him.

"No, I did like it at first. You just have to be more careful next time. And please just stick to one hand. One is plenty, you're too strong for your own good.", you chuckled while rubbing your nose against his.

He just hummed and kissed your forehead.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up.", he said while sitting up pulling you with him. Before he stood up he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles with a soft smile on his face.

fushiguro megumi

You've been dating for a few months now, but the furthest you have gone was a few gentle pecks and light groping. Each time you wanted to take things further, he found an excuse. Until the day came that he invited you over to his.

You were sat on his lap on his bed across while he licked at lour neck and groped your tits. His cock was hitting your cervix with every squirm of your hips. He told you to stay still but it was growing increasingly difficult with each teasing motion.

It was when he moved one of his hands from your breast down to between your legs, that you felt tears swell up.

"What's wrong? You don't like it?"

"No, I love it. It's just I've liked you so much for such a long time. I'm just so happy right now, so don't mind me.", you mumbled, squeezing your eyes together.

"You're so wet for me baby. Do my fingers feel that good hm? Just look at yourself in the mirror."

"Mmh noo it's embarassing", you whined as his fingers sped up.

"Do it for me. Now."

How could you say no to him, when he spoke with that tone and with how his fingers were working wonders. So you reluctantly opened your eyes and saw him staring right back at you.

"Atta girl.", and with those words he began rocking you up and down on his lap. You were so loud and expressive, he loved every second of it.

"Good girl, tell me, who's fucking you so good right now?

"Mmhh, you do. Ah, so good, please don't stop."

Instead of speeding up he pushed your hips down keeping you in place and making you sob. "Beg some more", he huffed while he licked up your neck and dug his teeth into your shoulder.

--------

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your thoughts!!<3 Hmu if you have any suggestions for future fics 🙆🏻‍♀️ much love as always MWAH♡

[fefern]

✧˖° first dates with them. | lingyang, m!rover, jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: going on a first date is always nerve wracking, yet can also be exciting! what's it like for these boys to take you out on your first date together?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): lingyang, male rover, jiyan, and a gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello! coming to you live with my first post for wuwa! just some cute little headcanons with the boys on first dates with you because i love planning dates out ;;!! requests are open if you want to talk or have me write something!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

Lingyang

Lingyang has never been more excited or nervous to hang out with someone, even more so since this was his first date with you. 

As someone who always seemed to fear being different from the humans around him, he felt extra self-conscious when he looked in the mirror and adjusted his outfit. Did he look alright? Were you going to enjoy this as much as he thought he would? Will everything go well? What if you decided you changed your mind and didn’t want to date someone of his species?

His first date gift for you would be a small lion plushie. Cute and fluffy with vibrant colors, he’d hold it out in front of him and shut his eyes tight, anxiety flowing through him. “These are for you! That way, when you miss me, you can hug this! If you want to, no pressure!” 

He’d be ecstatic when you took it into your hands and held it throughout your date together, happily looking between you and the plush and feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink that you two were going out together. 

He’d probably take you to the best food spots all around Jinzhou, ranting about which dishes to try or who had his favorite foods. He’d want to get to know you more, curious and nervous as he’s asking you about your likes, dislikes, what your daily life is like in Jinzhou. Lingyang would walk and eat with you along the way, practically enamored by anything you did or said. 

His tail would swish fast back and forth whenever you were talking. Even if it’s something you found mundane, he couldn’t help but be happy just listening to you speak. His ears will also be very reactive around you, usually up but always reacting accordingly to whenever you’d tell a story or joke with him. 

He’ll let you pet him if you want to, he trusts you after all. His cheeks flush a soft pink and he lets out a small purr when you do so, finding himself growing a bit shyer at the sweet touch. He also feels a tad embarrassed by it, so you’ll have to pry his hands away as he childishly hides the way he’s turning red from you. 

He seems a little bit sad when you two do have to part, but when you ask him when the next one would be, a hopeful look emerges in his eyes as he begins to excitedly make plans to see you again and take you on another date. 

Other Points:  - Will jump in place when super excited to tell you something while on the date.  - Would point to some random cute things on your walk and go, “That reminds me of you!” - Happy to talk about lion dancing with you, and if you show more interest in it, he’ll offer to give you your own personal show one day!

Rover (Male)

Considering he is a person that just woke up in a strange world with no memories of his past or who he is, he is a bit lost on the idea of what to do during a date with you. Were there rules he had to follow? Did people in Jinzhou have certain taboos or ways that they executed dates?

He’d most likely ask all around the city in order to find out what to do or where to take you. He wanted to make sure the experience was good after all, not something that the both of you would dread. 

When he meets up with you, his hair is a bit more put together than usual and he stands up tall, giving you a small smile as he gently takes your arm and links it with his. 

“Take me around the city. Show me how you see the world through your eyes.”

His first date gift would be a small box of candy. I could definitely see Rover as being a person who likes small sweet treats as a guilty pleasure, and he’d want to share them with you as a way of connecting you with something that you love. 

He’s calm throughout most of your stroll, browsing through stores or looking around in quiet curiosity as you show him little nooks and crannies of the city. He enjoyed hearing how you would describe stores or fixate on different areas of the city that he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to before. 

He makes a mental note of the places that you like so that for your next date, you two could come back to them. Rover is already a few steps ahead in terms of thinking where he wants to go with you or what he wants to do. 

When you’re done showing him the city, he’ll give you a kind, endearing look and smile at you. He’ll take a moment to just admire you, shifting some of your hair out of your face and enjoy being in your presence before ultimately, it is time to part ways. He’ll wave you off, thanking you for everything and giving him a tour, before he smiles to himself like a fool and turns to head back to his quarters. 

Other Points: - Probably would be looking at you more than the city.  - Fast walker, so you’d have to keep up the pace. Apologies if he’s going too fast and happens to catch you struggling. - Will inquire about certain places just to listen to you talk. 

Jiyan

As the general of the Midnight Rangers that conducts himself in a poised, righteous manner, he’d be the most classy out of all the people to take you out on a date. 

Jiyan’s got a busy schedule as the head of such an important group in Jinzhou, but after bonding with you and asking you out he wanted to ensure that he carved out time in advance for just you and him to spend an afternoon together. 

He’d take you to a fancy restaurant in Jinzhou, the best money can buy. He’d be sure to pick you up from your place and walk with you to the restaurant. When you open the door, he’s standing in front of you with his hair slicked back and ponytail waving a bit in the wind, his clothes pristine and ironed out to look his absolute best in front of you. 

His present for you is a bouquet of flowers he made himself. He enlisted the help of his mom for this one, catching up with her about medical practices as he puts together the best pecok, irises, and poppies that he could find when he was out on his rounds into a pretty bouquet just for you. It’s wrapped up with brown paper and has a nice aqua bow on it, matching his hair.

When you get to the restaurant, he’ll look at the menu with you and ask you to order anything your heart desires. He already knows what he wants to eat, and will quietly look at you with a softened expression as you begin choosing what you want. He finds the way you handle yourself beautiful, even if it’s through simple things like ordering food. 

Jiyan will happily eat anything you don’t end up finishing. He doesn’t want to waste money, and he also cannot deny that the way you ask him to finish your plate was cute. He’ll work it off anyways with the amount of fighting and training he does, so he doesn’t mind. 

Will pay for the meal. No splitting or you paying, as much as you might plead and beg.

Will take you back to your place and entertain any questions you may have for him, whether it be about his past, missions he’s been on, or just about his duties as general of the Midnight Rangers. When he drops you off, he’d take the back of your hand and gently place a kiss on it before standing up straight and giving you a small smile, wishing you a goodnight. 

Other Points: - Will hold all your belongings so your hands are free and light. Does not matter how heavy or how much you have, he will refuse to let you “labor” like that, as he puts it.  - Admires your personality and the way you hold yourself when you speak. - Has a strong desire to protect you; always subconsciously keeping an eye out for any danger even though it’s daylight out.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Safe and Sound - Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: Hi, hi! The hotd brain rot is REAL. All I can think about is this beautiful prince above. I'm working on a longer story for him, but in the meantime, enjoy is blurb. This was jointly inspired by a genuine bad dream I had (the brain rot!!), and the Taylor Swift song that was playing when I was writing this at work. Hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #7: Safe and Sound

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: Jace comforts the reader after they wake up from a terrible nightmare.

Warning: This does not follow the canon, but I do base the nightmare off of real events that have yet to happen in the show. Do not read if you don't want spoilers.

Sweat drenches your brow. Swords clash, arrows whistle through the air, and dragon fire paints the sky orange.

Your heart thuds as you spin around amid the chaos, searching for a green dragon or for a head of dark, curly hair. For any trace of Jace.

An ear-splitting scream rattles the sky, and before you can make sense of what you are seeing, Vermax's body crashes into the water, sending up a raucous wave.

Panic flows through your body. Searching, searching, searching. You need to see any sign that he made it, that he is alive. The water is riotous, making it impossible to figure out where he landed.

You nearly fall to your knees in relief when you see him crawl up onto floating wreckage, injured badly, but still breathing. You know you need to get to him, need to do whatever it takes to get him out of enemy-infested water.

As you move towards the coast, you have no plan in mind. Out of the corner of your eye, you see an approaching ship, making its way towards Jace. You run, wanting to scream his name, but also not wanting to give away his location.

You reach the shoreline and the water laps at your feet. Jace spots you the moment the approaching ship spots him.

You know he won't be able to get to the shore in time. You wade into the water, watching as he struggles to swim towards you. He's too far away, too weak, and you're not strong enough to pull him back.

The sound of a crossbow trigger pierces through the crash of waves. Jace's eyes widen - looking into yours - as the arrow speeds towards his chest.

"Jace!" you scream.

You tear out of your dream in a cold sweat, waking to your dark bedroom.

Jace wakes when you scream, crying out his name. His eyes adjust too slowly to the darkness, so he grabs for you blindly. He needs to know you're alright, needs to feel your warmth, your pulse. It thunders beneath his thumb as his hand wraps around your wrist.

His eyes finally adjust and he sees you sitting up in bed, your night gown wet with sweat.

"What is it?" he asks, sitting up next to you. "What happened?" He does a quick scan of the room, confirming his first guess. The room is unchanged from the evening before. There is no danger within its walls, just within your head.

You've had another nightmare.

He brushes the hair off your forehead as you put a hand to your pounding heart, clearly coming to the same realization. Jace leans closer and kisses your shoulder gently.

"It was just a dream," he says lowly, his lips still pressed to your skin. You take deep breaths as you try to relax. You have yet to look at him.

"Y/N," he says, "It was just a dream." He tugs on your arm and finally, you look at him. Even in the dark room, he can tell your skin has paled.

"It didn't feel like just a dream," you say. He frowns and rubs soft circles on your back.

This has become your miserable routine. You wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, and he sits next to you, feeling useless to change anything.

"Tell me about it," he says quietly.

"It's the same dream I always have," you say, looking at him sadly, trembling. He pulls you into his arms, holding your shaking hands in his. His gaze focuses on the Valyrian steel ring he put on your finger a year ago. The promises he made to you that day flash in his mind.

"The Battle of the Gullet," he says in response.

"Yes."

"I regret ever telling you about that day," he says with a shake of his head. The movement jostles his hair, and you tuck it behind his ear gently, your hand linger on his face. "I'm fine, Y/N."

"I watched you die."

"What do you see now?" he asks, taking the hand cupping his cheek, pressing a loving kiss to the palm. He moves it down to his bare chest, to the beating heart beneath his warm skin. "I am alive and well."

You continue to frown at him, but your hand presses to his chest. You take a few more deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," you say, tears forming in your eyes as you look up at him. He shakes his head, his heart hurting that you would ever think that your pain was an inconvenience to him.

"Hey," he says, pulling you into his chest, your tears falling onto his skin. "You don't ever have to be sorry."

"I know that we are safe now. That war is over. But I am still so scared," you say, and on the last word your voice breaks. Jace holds you tighter.

"I know. I am, too, sometimes."

"Really?"

"Really," he says, "You think I don't have nightmares about that day? Or any from the past year."

"You don't ever tell me about them," you say, pulling away to look him in the eye.

"That's because I don't want to worry you," he says, smiling shyly, playing with your hands. "There are memories I have that I wouldn't dream of sharing with you, that I don't want you to carry."

"That doesn't seem fair," you say, "You get to worry about me but I don't get to worry about you?"

"It's hard," he says, his eyes still focused on your hands. "Sometimes I still see the dying dragons. Still remember when I'd look outside and see everything on fire. Still see the war raging."

"But you don't seem like any of it haunts you," you say, leaning in so he'll look at you. He gives you a soft smile, his thumb tracing circles on your hand.

"Guess I've gotten good at hiding it."

"Tell me how," you say quietly. He hates that he can hear the longing in your voice. He notices the dark circles under your eyes. How many nights in a row have you woken from your sleep like this?

"I just try to remember everything good that I still have. Vermax is alive. My mother is alive. You are alive," he says. "Safe and sound."

"Safe and sound," you say disbelievingly.

"You are, I swear it. I won't let anything happen to you," he says. "Ever again."

"I know," you say, touching his cheek softly. "I love you."

"I love you," he says. He draws you in close and kisses your lips slowly, his movements languid, like he's got all the time in the world. He hopes you feel it. Hopes you realize that this is what the rest of your existence together looks like. No wars, no death, just the pair of you in this room, reminding each other what you fought for.

"Let's get some sleep," he says as he lays the two of you down. He adjusts the sheets around you, keeping you close to his body. You run a hand over his chest, humming softly.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to," you say.

"Just close your eyes," he says, kissing your forehead, feeling the pull of sleep wash over him. "You're alright, Y/N. No one can hurt you or I now."

"Promise?" you ask.

"I do."

"You'll never leave me here alone," you say. It's not a question.

"I'll never let you go," he says, tucking you in tighter. "You and I are safe and sound."

"Safe and sound," you mumble. Jace waits a few moments for your breathing to fall into a slow rhythm. When he knows you're asleep he lets himself close his eyes. He vows to himself that he'll do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel so scared again. He vows that you'll never feel ashamed to talk to him when you do. And he vows to have more moments like this, with you asleep on his chest, his hand in your hair, and less like the one he jerked out of sleep to.

[forlix]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[tbaluver]

HIIIIII! first of all I wanna thank you for your service to the entirety of the LADS fandom omg😭🫶🫶🫶 local treasure for real. Uhhhh now for my request- If it’s alright with you, is it okie to write HCs for the boys if they were vampires? LMK IF IT ISN’T ALR W YOU😭😭😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t okie TT…..

The Love And DeepSpace Men As Vampires

warnings/ context: a lot of mention of blood, fluff and a lot of intimacy, maybe ooc

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie <3 !! omg you're so sweet your message literally made my day!! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ thank you for requesting and i hope you like this !! i might make a second part of this headcanon bc i honestly liked writing this au!!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier's swordsmanship reached new heights. His speed, strength, and reflexes were enhanced beyond human capabilities, allowing him to execute complex maneuvers with ease and precision. Over the centuries, he continued to practice and perfect his craft, adapting his techniques to the evolving eras and styles of combat. In the present day, Xavier is a highly respected Deepspace Hunter. He is known for his remarkable physical abilities and his combat skills, honed over centuries have proven invaluable in dangerous situations, especially involving violent Wanderers or high-risk scenario's.

You first met at the abandoned warehouse, where your mission brought you together. As you worked side by side, investigating cases and solving crimes, your professional partnership and friendship gradually deepened into a close, intimate relationship.

During a high stake mission, he was gravely injured, and you rushed to his side, eager to tend his wounds. Despite your urgent efforts, he gently pushed you away, his eyes filled with a mixture and resolve. He had been preparing for this moment for a long time, searching for the right words and the right timing. This man has even looked it up on the internet on how to tell you but found no help whatsoever. When he explained it all, it all made sense.

Your boyfriend who would sleep a lot during the day, you haven't seen your boyfriend eat much whenever you went on dates let alone cook. But usually when he cooks he would burn it. And a lot of his missions are usually at night.

He consistently turned down your offers to feed him. However, it became increasingly evident that his strength was waning. Over the past few weeks, his supply of blood bags had dwindled to almost nothing, leaving him visibly weakened and frail. One evening, as he struggled to maintain his composure, you could no longer just stand by and watch. You confronted him insisting that he accepts your offer despite his protests.

He preferred to bite you on the neck, from behind, pressing you close to his chest. He slipped his arm around your waist, his touch light and comforting. His breath, warm and steady, grazes the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver slightly with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

He lowered his head, his fangs emerging with a practiced grace. The initial contact was tender, a gentle brush of his lips against your skin, followed by a delicate lick. His fangs, sharp yet controlled, made a brief precise puncture. The sting was momentary, quickly overshadowed by the soothing warmth that followed. The richness of your blood filled him with a profound sense of satisfaction. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, anchoring him as he savored the precious essence flowing between the them. When he pulls his fangs out, his tongue reacquaints itself with the flavor of your skin as his palm cradles the back of your head affectionately.

You've also become more accustomed to sleeping at the same time with him. You found out from him that vampires find comfort sleeping close to someone they trust and love.

His protective nature for you is also heightened. He's always vigilant about your safety and goes to great lengths to shield you from harm.

Zayne:

Zayne has adapted to his new existence. He carefully crafted a persona as a surgeon. As the world evolved, so did Zayne. He embraced modern advancements in medical technology and his practice is renowned for it's extraordinary success rates, often performing miracles that seemed beyond the reach of contemporary medicine.

Despite his vampire nature, he sticks to a strict ethical code. He uses his immortality to help those in need, driven by a belief that his eternal life should be used to alleviate suffering and advance medical knowledge. To the public, he is a genius who performs miracles, but no one knows the truth until you came along in his life.

I think he would also love arts. As a vampire that's been alive for centuries, he would love to talk to you about art, literature, or show you around the museums that interest him. His extended lifespans gives him the opportunity to witness and absorb various cultural movements over the centuries so he'd gladly talk to you about it all.

He was alive centuries ago so his manners and chivalry are always timeless with you. He holds the door open, pulls out chairs, and showers you with tradional gestures of affection.

Truth is, he is terrified of hurting you and will genuinely avoid you if it means to keep you safe. However, his bloodlust continues to get worst with his tender feelings towards you as you continue coming back for a patient checkup or anytime you two would be together. His mind racing with a jumble of anxious thoughts, 'What if you feared him after telling you?', 'What if he becomes addicted and sucks you dry?' The idea of losing you absolutely drove him mad.

When it came to eventually telling you, you weren't afraid of him, which made him relax. You both talked about your boundaries and your safety.

You wouldn't be able to tell from his stoic expression but he would actually be nervous. He usually drank blood from blood bags and poured into a cup. It was always bland, something to just fill his hunger. But when you offered your own, he was terrified of what your blood would to him.

When you finally convinced him, he would make sure you were okay as he pushed your hair out of the way. He preferred to bite you on the neck from the front, pressing you close to his chest. Your hand would clench around his shirt, tensing up due to the idea of it hurting.

He would be slow, gentle, and place soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he runs his hands along your waist. As his nose brushed against your neck, he drew in your irresistible scent with a deep, lingering breath. He positions his fangs at your throat and pressed down.

You gasp at the sudden, sharp sting of pain, and he immediately begins to comfort you, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on your hip to ease the discomfort. Eventually, you would become relaxed in his embrace as you wait for him to finish feeding. His entire body would protest, but he'd resist the urge to pull away, relishing each drop of your blood with a palpable hunger. He'd worry he'd taken too much.

When he finally drew back he would lick the wound and press soft kisses on it. He saw how drained you looked, but your reassurance puts his fears to rest. Gently, he'd help you settle into a seat, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder before he went to fetch some snacks to help you regain your strength back.

After weeks of feeding, his hunger was finally full. He no longer needed to feed with any regularity; he could comfortably go a week or even a month without feeding. He doesn't drink from you unless it's absolutely necessary, sometimes to the point where he's so weak he couldn't even hold his pen anymore.

However if the time came again and you let him feed on you, he would have everything prepared. He'd have bandages and wraps nearby in case of any mishaps, along with snacks and drinks to help you recover afterward. The feeding would take place in your shared resting chamber, ensuring you could relax afterwards.

Rafayel:

As a vampire, Rafayel's artistic abilities were magnified to extraordinary levels. His senses became heightened, allowing him to perceive the subtlest nuances of color, texture, and lighting. His immortality provides him with endless time to refine his craft, and explore new techniques and styles that pushes the boundaries of traditional painting. His paintings are considered a masterpiece that capture interest of many people all over the world.

You met him at his house studio to investigate a painting. Eventually you're both attacked by a Wanderer in his home and defeat it. In the aftermath, he extends an offer to hire you as his bodyguard, recognizing the value of your talents. You accepted, and as your roles shifted from professional to personal, a deeper connection blossomed between you. It wasn't long before your relationship grew into something more intimate. Eventually he would confess that he was a vampire. At first, his mischievous demeanor made it hard to take his claim seriously.

Rafayel tries so hard to hold himself back whenever he's near you. He would go to any lengths, even staking himself, to ensure he would never cause you harm. He struggles to keep his bloodlust at bay, especially when your scent is so intoxicating. Each time you wear something that exposes your neck, wrists, or ankles, his throat becomes unbearably dry. To mask his struggle, he distracts himself with conversation and avoids eye contact, desperately trying to remain composed. When you're near, he can barely focus on anything but the overwhelming urge to taste your blood, a constant battle between his desires and his determination to keep you safe.

Whenever he shows affection, whether it's a hug or a kiss, he holds you just a bit too tightly, his breath trembling against your neck, making you shiver. Though he's always tender with you, in these moments you can sense the raw edge of his desire, barely contained beneath his gentle exterior. It's a thrilling reminder of the thin line he walks between his love for you and his almost overpowering urge to taste your blood. And at times like this, you truly wonder if your boyfriend was telling you the truth.

However, your skepticism grew when you witnessed his pallor and weakness, the result of without proper nourishment. He explained that blood donors he relied on were bland and left a lingering, unpleasant aftertaste so he had neglected his feeding.

Out of your generosity you would ask him to drink you blood and obviously he'll be shocked and refused. But you know him to well and it takes barely any persuading to let him feed on you.

He prefers to bite your wrist, finding it the most practical and less intrusive spot for feeding. He insists that you sit beside him during the process, believing it to be the safest arrangement. This way if he ever loses control or if you start to feel faint or unwell you can easily pull away and protect yourself from any unintended harm. His primary concern is your safety, and he values this precautionary measure to ensure that your well-being is always safeguarded.

He would lean in, his breath warm against your skin, and with the gentlest pressure, his fangs would pierce the surface of your wrist. A brief, tingling sting that quickly faded into a soothing warmth. He fed slowly savoring the rich, warm taste, each tip tender and measured. His hold on your wrist would be firm but careful, ensuring that you felt secure and not overwhelmed.

As he drank, he would look up a couple times, his gaze fixed on you, watching for any signs of discomfort. When he finally finished, he eased his fangs from your skin and gently licked the small punctures, soothing them with a tender touch. He placed soft kisses over the marks.

Even as a vampire, he'll still mess around with you. He occasionally teases you by extending his fangs just enough to graze your skin. He would let his teeth lightly brush against your arm, just enough to startle you without breaking the surface layer. His laughter rings our softly as you squirm or swat at him, your playful annoyance would be evident. He does this with kisses too. Sometimes you'll feel a sharp fang gently biting your tongue and you'll pull away to flick his forehead for being mischievous

Although he can't see himself in the mirror you would always remind him he's always so handsome. You may not be the artist like he is but you'll try to draw him sometimes and even though it might not be perfect or he might make fun of you, he appreciates the gesture.

Sylus:

You first met Sylus when an unknown man fires a bullet at you, but Sylus stops the bullet mid-air and disintegrates the man. Despite your minor injuries, with blood seeping from the wounds, your scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating to him. Sylus had been quietly monitoring you, with Mephisto discreetly shadowing your every move. The raw, alluring aroma of your blood ignited a fierce, almost uncontrollable craving within him. Yet, he fought to maintain his composure, striving to resonate with while concealing the fierce hunger that roared within him. Although not a lot of talking has happened when you passed out.

You woke up to find out you've been staying at his home for three days. He's tried to force you to resonate with him after you woke up only to find out the reason why it didn't work was because you were subconsciously rejecting him, scared of him, or disgusted by him. Eventually you agreed to work with him, on the terms of helping you out with your investigation to make you not so disgusted by him.

As you both diligently worked together in the N109 Zone, trust between you gradually deepened. Through countless shared experiences and mutual reliance, you discovered more about each other, and your relationship evolved from professional to deeply personal. Eventually, Sylus reveals to you that he was a vampire. Which was not surprising to you at all. Pale Skin and crimson red eyes? That's def a vampire. The information did not change your relationship but rather you've become more curious.

You found out he usually gets blood from blood bags from the hospital because he has no time to hunt. He hates having to feed on the blood bags as they were too bland and unsatisfying. To compensate, he sometimes indulges in red wine, using it as a substitute to mimic the richness he craves. so sometimes he'll drink a lot of red wine as a filler for blood.

Dates with him are also super thoughtful just like how he would give you gifts. He'll gift you with more antique or vintage things from his past that remind him of you. He loves taking you out on moonlit dates or walks under the stars. He obviously cannot be in the sun but he also hates the sun so this was perfect for him.

He also has a ton of secret hideaways in the world. He created many for anytime you both want to travel so these hidden spots offer a blend of comfort and safety for the two of you.

Out of your kindness and curiosity, you offer him your own blood, hoping it might provide a more fulfilling experience. He would be hesitant about it, mainly worried that he might become addicted once he's consumed your blood. But with reassurance and the communication between you two you decided to try it out.

He preferred to bite you on your inner thigh. You would lay on the body, your body relaxed and supported by the plush of the pillows. Your legs would be slightly bent and spread, giving him easy access as he settled between you. He brushed his lips lightly against your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and soothing. His breath was warm against your skin as his one of his hands rested gently on your hips, offering reassurance and stability. His other hand would be intertwined with yours.

With a deliberate slowness, he allowed his fangs to emerge, their presence barely noticeable at first. As he leaned in, he places a soft kiss on the inner curve of your thigh, his fangs grazing lightly against your skin. The feeling of anticipation and tenderness, would make you tingle with both excitement and nervousness.

When he finally bit down, it was a controlled precision. The initial sting was quick but fleeting, and quickly replaced by a soothing, warm sensation as he began to feed. He couldn't help but groan at your taste. He kept his touch light, his hands continuously caressing your thigh to ensure you were secured and cared for. He'll occasionally look up, to see if you were showing any signs of discomfort.

Once he was done feeding, he would lick the wound clean and caress your thigh as he would praise you. "You taste so good for me sweetie." The gesture you have given him has open a new chapter in your complex relationship.

[obsessed-with-stardew]

His Hoodie

You looked cold so Sebastian let you borrow his hoodie, he didn’t know how much he’d like seeing you in it.

Sebastian xF!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names

Wc: 3530

It’s another Friday night at the Stardrop Saloon. You’re in your usual spot, next to Abigail on the couch, in the game room watching Sebastian school Sam at pool like always.

“Top left pocket,” Sebastian calls his final shot.

“No way you can sink that, man!” Sam said.

Sebastian catches your eye as he carefully lines up his shot, and with a wink he sinks the 8-ball.

Sam groans “argh you’re too good, it’s not fair!”

Sebastian chuckles softly, “Fine, fine. Y/n, are you any good at pool?”

“Um I mean I’ve played before but I’ve never claimed to be good… why?” You ask.

“Let’s say I’m evening the playing field,” Seb says with a grin.

“Hey two against one isn’t even,” Sam complains.

“Think of it this way Sam, I’m teaching y/n so if you beat us, you’re beating me and showing what a bad teacher I am.”

“Alright… just this once” Sam says.

The game starts just fine, Seb breaks. Expertly sinking two balls off the bat.

“We’re solids, y/n. That means don’t sink the stripes” Seb teases.

You blush, “I know the basics.”

You asses the table, choosing your path. You lean down, hoping to at least hit the ball. Sebastian’s breath catches. Sure he’s been attracted to you since you first moved into Pelican Town, but seeing your jeans perfectly molded to your ass as you bend over the table… the things he’d do to you if you were alone.

Seb says “Sorry I couldn’t tell you knew which ball to hit by the way you line up your shot” he chuckles. “Here, can I help?”

He leans down behind you. You can feel his breath on your ear ask he skates his hand down your forearm to adjust your hold.

“You gotta grip it a little tighter, you’re in control here,” he whispers into your ear.

It’s only with his body pressed to yours, his hand guiding your own, that you realize how phallic a pool cue can be. He must realize it too, because you feel something firm pressing against your ass.

*cough cough* Sam clears his throat.

“Today you two!” Abigail laughs.

You blush as Sebastian cooly straightens and runs his fingers through his dark hair.

“You got this y/n” he says encouragingly.

You take the shot and make it.

“Woah I actually made it!” You shout, bouncing up and turning to Seb. The joy on your face makes his heart flutter.

Sam sighs, “well this isn’t gonna be as easy as I thought”.

“I’ll grab the next round, you guys keep playing” you say.

After you return with the drinks the game and the jokes flow easily.

You make a few shots and miss a few too, with Seb encouraging or laughing it off with you.

“Middle right!” Sam calls the last ball.

He lines up his shot

He shoots

It misses.

“Oof, tough break bud” Abigail says.

“Awh sorry Sam, looks like it’s not your night,” Seb teases. “Y/n, you’re up.”

You choke on your drink, “Seb I thought it was your turn??”

He smiles at you, “nah, you’ve been doing so well for me. I think you deserve to finish this.”

You try to keep your cool, leaning over the table.

“Just breathe, you got this.” Seb says, it’s meant to be encouraging for you but it doubles as an attempt to control his hard on. The way you’re leaning, he can just glimpse your black lacy bra down your shirt.

“Top left,” you call the pocket.

With Seb’s encouragement warming in your chest, you loose your shot. The tip of the pool cue hits the ball perfectly, sinking the 8-ball right where you wanted it.

“Hey we did it!” You bounce up and pull Sebastian into a hug. He stiffens at the sudden contact and you let go blushing.

“Way to go y/n, now I guess I’ll be bench warming all by my lonesome” Abigail scoffs

“Maybe you should try playing some time Abby,” Sam says.

“Oh fuck off sam, you just want to win for once,” Abigail said.

“Think you can take me??” Sam asks.

Seb leans over towards you, “they could be at this for awhile, want to join me for a smoke break?”

You nod and follow him out of the saloon.

Seb leans against the side of the building, pulls out his pack of cigs and offers one to you.

You take it, happy to have something warm you up on this cool spring night. Seb flicks on his lighter and you lean in to light to up. You look so beautiful in the light from the flame, your eyes hooded, focusing on getting your cig lit then they flicker up at him, catching his gaze. Time slows as his can see your lips wrapped around his cock instead of that dainty cigarette. He blinks, releasing the flame. Relishing that he can hide his blush in the darkness. As he lights his own cig, you fall into a similar daze. Watching his fingers expertly flick on the flame, illuminating his face so full of focus. Your mind drifts to what that focus and those fingers could do to you. The thoughts make you shiver.

“Oh shit, y/n, are you cold?” Sebastian ask.

“Huh? What?” You shake yourself out of your daze.

“Here hold this” he hands you his cigarette and begins to take off his hoodie.

“Oh now you don’t need to…” your words trail off as Sebastian pulls the hoodie over his head. It takes some of his shirt with it, revealing his stomach and a hint of hair at his waist line in the moonlight. You take a drag on your cig to try and refocus yourself.

“Trade me,” Seb says as he holds the hoodie out towards you. Passing him the cigarettes, you pull the hoodie on. It’s still warm and smells like him, a mix of smoke, cedar and something spicy.

“I think our cigs got swapped at some point, this one is maybe yours?” He says handing it back over.

You giggle, “it doesn’t really matter, we were bound to swap saliva eventually.” You say as you lean up against the wall next to him.

He turns to face you, “oh really? And how is that?”

“Oh, um well, you know..” you stammer. “Like sharing drinks and stuff…”

“And stuff?” Seb teases.

You take a drag and blow your smoke in his face, causing him to cough and laugh. You start to laugh too, then Sebastian’s hand grabs your wrist, pulling you to him. With his other hand he tilts your chin up so your eyes meet, he can see the Cherry of his cig reflected in your blown out pupils. A dead giveaway that you want him as much as he wants you.

“Stuff like….” Seb drawls, leaning down to brush your lips with his own. “this?” He murmurs against your mouth just before capturing it with a kiss. You let out a soft moan, as you part your lips to deepen the kiss. You pull lightly on his full bottom lip with your teeth and he lets out a low groan, dropping your wrist and grabbing your waist to pull your body flush against his. Just as you begin to deepen the kiss the door to the saloon swings open and you hear your friends turning the corner. The two of you jump back, sucking desperately at your cigs to try and act natural.

“Oh there you guys are!” Sam says.

“Sam thought you would’ve snuck off to the woods or something,” Abigail laughs.

“Nah, we’re just enjoying the air” Seb says, hoping his voice sounds calm even though his pulse is hammering so hard he’s sure everyone can hear it.

“Yep, love me some air” You say a little breathlessly, shooting Seb a small smile.

Abigail and Sam share a look that says they are all too aware of what they interrupted.

“…anyway, I’m headed home. Seb, you ready to head out?” Abigail asks.

Shit, Sebastian got so swept up in you he completely forgot he’d promised to walk Abby home. She may have a tough exterior, but after her first trip to the mines, the darkness makes her jumpy.

“Yeah, um let me just finish this cig. “ he says.

“Oh, here you probably need this back,” you say, “I know how cold the walk up to the mountains can be.”

You start to wriggle out of his hoodie.

Seb places a hand on your arm, halting you movement. You look up at him.

“I think you need it more than I do tonight,” he says with a small smile.

“Well I’m off,” Sam says. “Bye you guys!”

“Alright Abby, let’s head out.” Seb says, “see ya later Sam… bye y/n.” His hand lingers on your arm for just a moment before he steps back and heads out with Abby.

You sigh, take a final drag on your cigarette and turn for the farm. You’re grateful for the warm hoodie, but you wish it was Seb walking you back to your house. You imagine him pushing you up against the wall the second you walk through the door. kissing you until you’re both panting and breathless. But it’s just you, alone on the farm.

You get ready for bed, keeping the hoodie and the smell of him on your body. As you snuggle into bed, you fantasize the he’s there with you. You grab your breasts and tease your nipples, thinking of his fingers pulling them and his mouth sucking on one and then the other…

~*~meanwhile, outside Abigail’s house~*~

Shit shit shit, Seb thinks. He just realized he left his house key in the pocket of his hoodie. He could wake up Maru or his mom but he always hates how they look at him coming home late, smelling like smoke.

Y/n probably just took the hoodie off when she got home and left it on that coat rack by the door. He could just slip in and grab the key and you wouldn’t have to know.

The thought of sneaking into y/n’s house while she’s asleep gives Seb a dirty thrill. He feels his cock stiffen as his mind floats to naughty thoughts of ways he could wake you up. He was so wrapped up in his fantasy the walk was over before it had begun. The farm really was so peaceful at night, he’d never noticed how beautiful y/n kept it. It’s almost as calming as the lake in the mountains.

“You don’t even know if she likes you like that Seb, stop imagining a life here,” he scolds himself, walking up to the door.

Reaching his hand up to brush the top of the door frame, he finds the key you keep ‘hidden’. Locking the door always makes you feel safe, but you also want your friends to be able to come by anytime they need.

He fits the key into the lock, turns it quietly and slips into the darkness of your home. Pulling out his phone flashlight, Seb searches the coat rack for any sign of the hoodie, with no luck. Maybe you took it off in your bedroom… he quietly walks down the hallway. Hearing a noise, he halts. Was that sound really what he thinks it was? He hears another little whimper.

“Yes, Sebby yes,” you moan quietly.

His heart hammers in his chest and his cock hardens painfully.

“Is this really happening?? Is y/n really touching herself while thinking about me??” Seb thinks.

He palms his hard length through his tight jeans letting out a small hiss of air between his teeth. Before he can stop himself, Seb peers into your bedroom. He sees you, glowing in the moonlight wearing only his hoodie. One hand clutching your breast and the other moving carefully between your legs. You’re so lost in the action, you don’t notice him enter the room.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you’re such a needy girl aren’t you y/n,” Seb says in a low, barely audible voice.

“mmmmm I need you sebby” You moan, thinking his voice was in your head. Wait…. That was most definitely not in your head. Your movement stops and your eyes shoot open to find Sebastian casually leaning against your doorframe.

“Don’t stop on my account sweetheart,” he drawls taking a few steps into the room. “Unless you want some help with that?”

You’re stunned into silence. Is this really happening? You’re open your mouth to reply, but quickly close it. You sit up and grab at your sheets to cover you, praying he can’t see your flushed face in the moonlight.

“Don’t get all shy on me now baby,” Sebastian croons, making his way to the edge of your bed.

“Wha-what are you doing here Seb??” You stammer.

He huffs out a laugh and sits down next to you.

“Awh, what happened to Sebby? I think I like when you moan it out of that pretty little mouth.”

He leans in capturing your lips with his own as his hand reaches into the hoodie pocket.

“Woah wha-?” You pull away with a start as you feel his hand brush your stomach through the fabric. He pulls his hand out and you see something flash between his fingers. A key.

“I realized I left this in there after I got to Abby’s,” Seb says, “And instead of dealing with Maru I figured I’d slip in here and grab the key from the coat rack.”

He twirls the key in his fingers, watching you squirm under the covers. He laughs, “Imagine my surprise to find you wearing only my hoodie while you moan out my name.”

Grabbing your hand, Seb gently guides you to feel his hard bulge through his jeans.

“Ahhh” he sighs at the contact, “See what you do to me y/n?”

You let out a whimper, biting your lip.

“And to find out you’re so needy for me, that’s just an extra treat.” He says, his voice low and gravely.

Sebastian shifts quickly to straddle you, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them above you as he cups your chin with the other.

“How bout you be a good girl and let me take care of you, y/n?”

You nod vigorously and he leans in to press a punishing kiss to your lips. You both moan as he presses his bulge to your dripping pussy. His hands begin to roam your body, grabbing at your breasts and your hips. You reach down to grab the hem of the hoodie but Sebastian grabs your wrist and presses a kiss to it.

“No,” he says, his eyes dark. “Keep it on. I like seeing you in it.”

Your heart flutters and you caress his face.

“Anything for you Sebby,” you say.

At the sound of the nickname falling from your lips, Seb feels himself losing control. He would do anything to hear you cry out his name.

He leans back taking you in, hoodie bunched up around your waist, chest heaving and pussy glistening. All for him. Sebastian knows he should take it slow, savoring and exploring your body. But you’re both so ready any more foreplay would feel like torture.

He crawls out of bed, and unbuttons his pants. You’re practically drooling watching him pull off his dark tshirt and black jeans. Seb’s dark boxer briefs fight to restrain his erection. Then those are on the floor too. His hard cock springs out, and you shudder in a breath looking at him. Have you ever seen a boy as beautiful as Sebastian? His pale skin shining in the moonlight. He slowly strokes his cock, letting you watch him.

“You’re so beautiful Sebby,” you tell him softly.

He huffs out a rough chuckle, “You’re one to talk sweetheart”.

He climbs back on top of you. You pull him down for a kiss, tongues twining as you lose yourselves in the others mouth. You arch your back, pressing your body into him. His cock brushes your soaked pussy. He pulls back from the kiss on shaky arms.

“Are you sure you want to do this y/n? If we do this, I don’t think I can go back. I don’t think we can just be friends anymore. I’ll want all of you.” Sebastian says, looking intently into your eyes.

“Fuck being friends,” you say, “I’ve wanted to be yours since I first saw you.”

He groans, pushing the head of his aching cock between your wet, waiting folds.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” Seb says as he eases into you. Just the tip, letting you adjust to the size of him and allowing him to get his bearings so he doesn’t blow this moment by cumming the instant he feels you clench around him.

He takes a shaky breath and continues to push into you, stopping only when he is fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathes out. “So good and tight for me aren’t you sweet girl”

You moan and he can feel your walls clench his cock. He pulls out almost to the tip, then slams back into you.

“My good girl, so wet and ready for me” Seb says between thrusts. “You are my good girl aren’t you?” He asks.

You’re so lost in pleasure you don’t register that he’s waiting for a response. Seb reaches out and wraps his long fingers lightly around your throat. Your eyes snap up to his, you’ve never been choked in bed before.

He pushes in all the way then stills “You have to answer me baby.” Seb says, watching you with dark eyes.

“Y-yes, I’m your good girl Sebby,” you murmur, wriggling your hips.

Seb chuckles and applies a little more pressure to your throat. You moan in response and he rewards you by starting to fuck you again in earnest.

“Next time we’ll take things slower baby” he huffs, “I’ll fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.” Seb groans, his pace getting sloppier. “I’ll eat your perfect pussy until you come on my tongue.”

You cry out, eyes closing as you succumb to the pleasure.

“No no baby,” he coos, “I need to see your eyes as you come for me”.

You blink open your eyes, taking in the sight of Seb’s lean frame towering over you. Sebastian’s eyes bore into yours, so full of lust and hunger.

“Seb-sebby,” You moan “I’m gonna cum!”

His intense features break into a grin, “That’s my good girl, cum all over my cock sweetheart”.

And with that Sebastian follows you over the edge, thrusting deep into you as he spills into your pussy. His arms give out and he falls onto your chest with a huff. You giggle, nuzzling his head. Seb jerks a bit, and groans.

“What is it Seb?” You ask.

He lets out a chuckle, “I can feel you laughing”.

You giggle again, and he buries his face in your chest. “It feels good I hope?” You ask.

“Fuck baby, it feels too good,” Seb says looking up at you with a grin.

He pushes back up on he elbows, and with a hiss pulls out of you. You let out a little whine, feeling empty without him inside you.

Seb laughs shaking his head, “You really are insatiable, aren’t you?”

He sits back, admiring how lucky he is. The girl he’s thought about while alone in his own bed, now sprawled out before him. Your beautiful fucked out expression, his cum leaking out of your perfect pussy. Seb leans forward and with two fingers starts gently scooping his cum back into you.

“Mmmmm” you moan, “Whatcha doin down there Sebby?” You ask with a shiver.

He looks up at you with a bashful smile, “Just didn’t want to waste any of it,” he says as he pushes his fingers into your overly sensitive hole.

You gasp as Sebastian curls his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that drives you crazy. He pumps them in and out of you in a lazy pace, watching you whimper. Seb brushes his thumb against your clit causing you to tense.

“Shhh baby, just relax” he says rubbing your thigh with his free hand. “You didn’t think I’d give my sweet girl just one orgasm did you?”

You let out a groan as Seb slowly pushes another finger into you. He fingers you lazily, skillfully drawing out your second orgasm. After bring you back down from your high, seb slides his fingers out of you and slips them into his mouth.

“We taste pretty good together baby,” he says with a wink. You can’t move, so entranced watching him clean your combined mess off of his fingers.

“C’mon sweet girl,” he says extending his hand, “Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.”

You follow his to the bathroom, “Wait so does that mean…” you trail off.

“What? You think I’d take this good care of you to let you sleep alone?” He asks with a grin.

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: You ask Simon to babysit for you last minute. For @that-fangirl-1106 and three anons

“Thank you so, so much. I owe you.” 

Simon stops short at your door, brows raising in surprise. He expected to see you in your ‘house clothes’ as you call them, leggings, or an old pair of jeans with a t shirt. Instead, you’re wearing a skirt, a short skirt, swell of your breasts just visible inside the V of your shirt, and his stomach twists, confusion thrumming in his veins. What is this? Where are you going? When you called and asked him to help you watch Emma for a bit, he just assumed it was so you could run some errands or something, take some time for yourself. Not for… whatever this is. 

You’ve got Emmaline on your hip, waist curved to accommodate her, and she’s babbling at you with a happy smile.  

“Are you sure it’s not an inconvenience? My sitter bailed last minute.” The door lock clicks into place behind him, and he holds his tongue, stopping the flow of one hundred questions, biting down on the urge to pull you into his chest and tell you- you’re not actually going anywhere. 

Would you agree? Would you look up at him with that sweet, beautiful face, and tell him that you won’t? That you’ll stay here, with him, instead. Where you belong.

“Simon?” Shit.

“It’s fine. I’m happy to help.” Emma coos, looking up at him, little legs wriggling in her onesie and his heart thumps a little harder, the green poison of jealously cooling just slightly when he realizes it doesn’t matter where you’re going. You’ll be coming home to him, and Emmaline, at the end of your night. 

Still. He has to ask. He has to know. 

“Where are you going?” You hand the baby to him, clucking softly, rubbing your fingers through her wispy crop of curls. 

“Out with this guy I met!” You’re excited, practically beaming, and your fingers find the hem of your shirt, anxiously plucking at it. “It’s been a while since like-“ you stop yourself, embarrassment heating your face, and you clear your throat. “No one’s asked me on a date in a while. Single moms aren’t really… a hot commodity.” His stomach clenches at the idea of another man thinking you’re a hot anything, let alone even looking in your direction. 

“Where are you going? Who is he?” 

“To the little Thai spot on seventh.” You give him an odd look. “And he’s a guy I met at the library.” 

“The library?” 

“Yeah, during story time.” You’re pulling a jacket on, and he clenches his jaw so tight he could chew through concrete. “Alright, baby, love you.” You step into his orbit, dab of perfume still wet on your neck, heat pressing into his side when you bend to kiss Emma on her forehead. Your hand brushes his against her back, something clouding your gaze when you look up into his face, something hopeful and honeyed sweet, with just a glimpse of longing, enough that blood roars in his ears. 

He should ask you to stay, tell you he’ll take you instead. Or take you somewhere better, take you anywhere you want to go. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you slip out the front door, blowing the baby in his arms one last kiss goodnight with a wave of your palm.

An hour later, a key scrapes against the metal of the lock. He’s got Emmaline and her favorite stuffed giraffe in his arms, walking circles in the kitchen, bouncing her lightly to try to soothe her pre bedtime tears, a normal routine he’s seen you do more than once. 

You slip through the door with a whispered apology, tired eyes rimmed in red. 

“Hey.” You reach for Emma, giving her a big smile and holding her to your chest, little kisses from your lips dotting her head, her cheeks. Your eyes slip closed, tension sagging from your shoulders, and he frowns, 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing. He uh, didn’t show.” Oh, sweetheart. You shrug, brushing it off. “But that’s okay, isn’t it?” you coo at Emma, smoothing a hand up and down her back. “Yeah, that’s okay. Mum doesn’t need anyone but you, huh Emmaline?” You say something about putting her to bed, and he barely hears you, too busy thinking about finding the piece of shit that decided to stand you up and breaking every bone in his body. 

You reappear once you’ve got her down, and he still hasn’t made himself scarce, lingering in your kitchen, hands in his pockets. He feels out of place, heart panging at the dejected look at your face. 

“Fuck that guy.” He grunts, and you crack a smile, tucking your arms around yourself. “He’s an idiot.” 

“Yeah.” You’re sullen, rejected, and it makes his blood boil, rage coursing through him knowing that someone made you feel less than the wonder you are. “Thanks for… I guess hanging out with her for a little while, at least. It was really nice of you.” 

“Anytime.” The kitchen is silent for a moment, reflecting your somber mood, and just as he’s about to tell you how stupid that guy is, how much of fool he is to not see what he missed out on, how much he didn’t deserve a single second of your time, you sigh out a whispered confession. 

“I guess it was pretty stupid.” 

“What was stupid, sweetheart?” 

“Going on a date when I have a baby at home. Thinking someone would even want a single mom with a baby at home.” You roll your eyes. “You know, as soon I got out the door, I was thinking about coming back? Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wishing I was hanging out with my own daughter, and you… instead of going on a date.” His heart latches onto your words, hoarding them close, trying to memorize them so he can recall every syllable when he closes his eyes tonight. 

“That’s not stupid.” He wants to comfort you, promise you that it’s the farthest thing from stupid. 

“Maybe. Either way doesn’t matter, right? I got stood up.” You wince. 

“Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve a minute of your time.” Your lips part, a little stunned by the steadfast vow, before splitting into a delicate smile, and your head ducks. 

“Thanks, Simon.”