#this isn't a joke anymore i NEED to kiss his nose

[djo]

JOSEPH QUINN  by Anum — Paris Fashion Week

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You've always loved your boyfriend's tattoos but panic when he offers to have you choose his next one.

Genre: fluff, blurb

Warnings: mentions of needles and tattoos, swearing, relationship insecurities

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

More times than you'd admit, you'd stare at Tangerine's tattoos—just as you're doing now—your nails tracing the designs on his forearms as you sit in his lap, straddling him.

You know he has more, some that spread across the muscles of his back and down his sides.

You want to touch those too.

"Why don't ya choose my next one, luv?" Tangerine asks suddenly, his hand coming up to push some hair away from your forehead as he admires your expression. Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, turning to look at him seriously.

"What?! I could never," you say, snatching your hand away from his skin as if it burned you, though you keep your position in his lap.

Genuinely confused, your boyfriend twirls his hand in your hair. "And why's that?"

"Because tattoos are so permanent!" you exclaim, your cheeks burning warm. "You'll have that on your body forever."

"Mm, yes, that's the point, a forever reminder of my favorite girl."

You say no again, your tone ending the discussion, but Tangerine knows you better than that. He smoothes a hand down your hair once more. "Is this not forever for you?" he mutters, the question genuine. There is no hint of annoyance or malice in his tone.

You feel your stomach sink and instinctively, you shift closer to him. "What?! No!"

Tangerine smiles and leans his cheek against your head. "Then what's the problem?"

You feel guilty as you take your lip in your mouth and your chew. What is the problem? The question plays on a loop in your head as you try to come up with an answer that doesn't sound stupid and childish.

"I mean, Tan, this feels like forever because I love you more than I need air, but nothing is really forever, is it? What if you wake up one morning and you don't love me anymore, and then you have a reminder of me engraved on your body?"

You pick at your nails, your voice going so small it breaks your boyfriend's heart. "And you know I don't want tattoos—so if you have one from me everyone's gonna wonder why I don't have one from you and—"

Tangerine suddenly presses his index against your lips and it's his turn to shifts so he's leaning up against the headboard, gripping your hips so you're positioned on his lap in a way that your ass isn't completely digging into his groin. 

His hand traces under your chin and then he cups your cheeks as he smiles. "My luv, I don't care what anyone thinks. I wasn't asking so ya'd also get one done, promise. Couple tattoos are incredibly cringey," he jokes with a scoff, then continues, his tone serious again, "now what's all this talk about me stopping loving ya? Ya gone completely mental on me now, darlin'?"

You look away, embarrassed. "I don't know."

Tangerine shakes his head and tuts. "Well, you're talkin' absolute nonsense. You're it for me, ya hear me? That's why I want a reminder of you forever engraved on my skin—because if by some hellish circumstances I can't have ya, I don't want anyone else. I'm yours and only yours."

He kisses your nose. "So, if you're willin', I'd love nothin' more than to have ya choose another for me, m'okay? Something small if you want, just for us."

You listen to him, taking in his words and then you smile and lean in to kiss his lips, warming up to his proposal so much so that a few weeks later, you stand to the side as Tangerine sits in the tattoo chair.

His arm rests on the small table to his left and his tattoo guy, a burly American named Dennis covered in tattoos, smiles at you. "So this is your little lady," he grins as he prepares the ink, "she is as sweet as you said, man."

Tangerine chuckles and beckons you over so you stand closer to him. "Isn't she?" he beams and turns to you. "Okay, show him, darlin'," he says and you hand Dennis a small paper where you'd drawn a small heart. It's simple. Nothing fancy—just a simple little heart that Tangerine wants on his wrist, almost hidden by his other tattoos but still visible enough for him. 

"Is it gonna hurt?" you whisper, worried for him, and Dennis chuckles. 

"I'm sure your boy can handle some pain," he jokes and Tangerine holds you hand with his other one. 

"I love you", he mouths, as his blue eyes shimmer with excitement at the anticipation of having something you'd drawn immortalized on his skin.

Once Dennis is finished with the tattoo and Tangerine can examine it, he turns and shows it to you. "Well? What do ya think?"

You barely blink. You can't tear your eyes away from the tiny heart drawing on his wrist and when you look up at him, knowing he has your real heart anyways, you break into a beaming grin.

"I absolutely adore it," you say honestly and those words have never made Tangerine as happy as now.

[hiddenlife-manager]

Jude Bellingham x FemReader

cw... oral fixation, male recieving, cumming, cumshot, detail ish, fuck buddy, quicky, slight dom reader, gagging, rushing, and etc..

notepad... hehe i love him so much it isn't a joke anymore. That being said here it is your fanfiction of the month, I tend to disapear and not come back for another month and I am so sorry ya'll. Just dealing with classes and learning french.

You began to remove his white button as you kissed his neck. He chuckled with his head up, your lips on his neck, and your head in the crook. You lowered yourself down to him. God,  he loved how you were taking control, and of course he wouldn’t let you take control the entire night. Jude had his button still on, but his front was showing his perfectly sculpted abs. His suit jacket was all the way on the floor of his hotel room.

Jude, let you kiss down his body. Eventually you reached his v line, and he chuckled, looking down at you. Your hands grabbed at the waistband and began to lower his pants. His boxers were Calvin Klein and perfect on his body. You looked at him; he was slowly growing inside his boxers, but he needed more motivation. You were about to grab his boxer's, but he chuckled and laid his hand on your head.

“We don’t have much time before I have to head out.” He spoke, and you nodded as you looked at him, your big eyes looking at him with desire. He let you be while you lowered yourself down and reached for his cock. Your hands are wrapped around the base of his cock. Your hands pumping him up and down, your thumb glazed over his leaking slit, and you giggled.

Your lips were so close to the tip as you began to lick it. You could slowly see him getting harder, and you knew you only had time to suck him off. Parting your lips, you placed his tip in your mouth, sucking a bit, making sure you were able to not have your teeth touch his pretty cock. Were you in control right now? A little bit, you knew Jude, if you took your sweet time, he would shove your head down his cock to suck him off the tempo he wanted. 

“Such a pretty fucking bitch sucking me off.” He mumbled as he moaned deeply. He enjoyed how you did it; you weren’t his girlfriend, but you were his consistent booty call. You giggled as the vibration went through his cock. You slowly entered his full cock into your mouth, your saliva covering his cock, and a bit of liploss smeared onto his girthy cock. 

Your hands were at the base, yet at this point you knew you no longer needed to hold it; he was hard and desired to cum down your throat. Your mouth continued to go up and down his cock, sucking him off perfectly. Jude moaned in the dimly lit hotel room, his head thrown back as he could feel his orgasm slowly building each time you took him into your mouth fully. 

“You need to hurry up, or I am going to grab your head and fuck your face myself.” He moaned out as he looked at his Rolex and chuckled as you stopped and looked up at him. Your hands began to hold his balls as you rolled them around them. You began to take him in your mouth fully at a quicker pace. You could feel yourself drooling down your chin as you continued to take him. Your body desired him to touch you, but you knew you couldn’t until after his event. 

You kept it at a quick tempo but were perfect each time you went down on him. Your throat got used to his cock no longer gagging when you sucked him. But Jude knew he was running out of time; his thighs were tightening and he was close, and in a snap of his finger, he grabbed your head and pushed you down onto his cock harshly and suddenly. You gagged as your drool slipped down, hitting the floor. Your nose was close to his v-line, and he groaned in pleasure. 

His hands held you still as he began to thrust into your mouth, and the sound of gagging was music to his ears. His grunts began to get louder as his breathing got heavier. He was getting closer as he felt his legs becoming weak from the pleasure of your mouth. He looked down and saw you drooling over his cock and tearing up. He ruined your make-up and couldn’t care less. 

“Close!” He groaned as he pulled out of your mouth after fucking your mouth. You coughed as you bent over coughing. You were covered in your own drool, and Jude grabbed your head and pulled you up. He tapped his tip onto your lips, and you opened up, tears running down your cheek. He pumped himself in front of you, and with one last pump, his cum covered your face as some got in your mouth. Your pretty face was covered, and all he cared about was not getting his cum on his suit pants. He bent down a bit, grabbing your chin as he looked at you, smiling. 

“I’ll be back; don't leave.” Your big eyes looked up at him, admiring him as you did. He turned around to clean himself off. “Swallow it.” He waved off as he got his pants back on.

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a joke. they were supposed to be in steve’s backyard with all their friends and family in shitty lawn chairs, holding cans of budweiser and jamming to whatever song eddie was in the mood for that day blasting through the speakers. steve was supposed to be in front of them all in a tuxedo t-shirt and powder blue dress pants, flowers in his hair that had been teased to high heaven and dark black sunglasses to keep out the bright sun. that’s how they had planned it all those years ago when they’d been high and drunk and young and in love.

but somehow instead, the yard is full of flowers and benches that hopper and wayne put together with spare wood for everyone to sit on and there’s an archway at the end of the aisle and soft acoustic songs spilling gently out of the speakers. steve’s still at the front, that was always supposed to happen, but this time he’s wearing an actual tux, light cream with a boutonnière and everything, and his hair is pushed back just so. there’s no flowers in his hair and no sunglasses but it’s cloudy enough of a day where he doesn’t really need them anyway.

they weren't even supposed to do this. there wasn't supposed to be a grand entrance and a walk down the aisle, no flower girls or ring bearers or anything remotely traditional. but what started off as, "well, i wouldn't mind walking down the aisle," and "i think exchanging rings would be cool," and "who cares if it isn't legal, i'm going to marry you anyway damnit," turned into this beautiful day of friends and family and love.

robin’s standing beside him in a tux of her own, pinstripe grey donning a pocket boutonnière that matches nancy’s bouquet, with a few notecards in her hands. and speaking of nancy, she’s heading down the aisle in a flowing dress, and when her eyes catch robin’s, she crinkles her nose before blowing her a kiss. she stands opposite of steve as eddie's not-quite-bridesmaid and grips her bouquet tightly, her eyes never leaving robin's.

and then there's dustin. he's in a tux that matches steve's and he has his curls pushed back with probably too much gel and a tie that suzie got him for their 3rd anniversary. the best thing he's sporting, though, is the smile on his face and the ring box in his hand and the joy in his eyes as he looks out at the crowd. having him there as best man and smelling the cheap cologne he wears so he seems more grown up calms steve's ever beating heart enough to where he doesn't think he'll throw up from nerves anymore.

all of their loved ones are surrounding them in clothes steve’s never seen before but he couldn’t care at all what they’re wearing because they’re all smiling wide and bright at him. he catches himself rocking back and forth on his feet so he shakes out his hands and holds them behind his back to distract himself. his stomach is rolling with waves or butterflies and when he catches joyce's eye in the front row, she mimes taking in a deep breath which he instantly copies. the soft grin she sends in return tells him that he thinks it could actually work to settle him. mothers have that healing way about them.

he’s never been good with weddings, always fidgeting in a too tight suit his mom picked out, but he never thought he’d be this antsy at his own.

steve's just about to give up and sprint down the aisle to get eddie so they can run away together and leave nerves and or butterflies behind him, but then the music stops. he sees lucas changing out the tapes quickly, giving a thumbs up to mike who throws one to will who runs back behind the shed to where he knows eddie is waiting and when will pops his head back out to run back to his seat, it hits him.

he's getting married.

steve doesn't have time to think about it anymore than he already has been for the last 8 years because eddie's coming around the corner of the shed.

'here comes the sun' is playing out over the speakers, soft and perfect, and eddie's smiling, wide and beautiful, and steve can't help but mirror it back to him. the clouds overhead seem to hear them, hear the song and hear their hearts beating in time with each other, because as soon as eddie gets to the aisle, bright warm rays of sunlight peak out and make the rhinestones he demanded line the lapels of his own black tux shine like real diamonds.

steve stops breathing. he swears he does, and he knows his family are all feeling the same way. he can hear a few gasps, hears joyce muttering what she thinks is a silent, "oh my god," in hop's ear, and watches how wayne stands up just a bit straighter from his front row seat.

eddie glides down the aisle like the drama king he is, soaking in the looks from everyone they care about and soaking in the sun that seems to come out only for him. it's like the sun knows he's a star, too, and wants to come out to be with one of it's own. eddie's always been sunshine and starlight and a blinding thing to look at and take in. he's the light, steve's the moth, and a few clouds on their wedding day could never change it.

"well, that was insanely good timing," eddie whispers to steve once he reaches him. his grin softens and he brings up a hand to wipe gently at the tear tracks on steve's cheeks. "hi, baby."

and steve can do nothing but choke out a laugh, catching eddie's hand in his own so he press a kiss to his palm. he thinks he can feel eddie's heartbeat against his lips and, even if it's his brain playing tricks on him, he likes the sentiment that it brings. "i love you so fucking much."

it's eddie's turn to get teary-eyed and the sun glints off the tears that fall down his cheek before heading back behind the clouds, dotting quick-to-fade sparkles on his face like a wedding present.

steve kisses him. he can't help it. it's nothing but a fast press of lips, watery smile to watery smile, and everyone is cheering except for robin.

"hey! it's not time for that yet," she says with a pretend scowl, arms pressing to each of their chests to keep them apart. it's enough to leave nancy giggling where she stands behind eddie, her laugh like bells bouncing off of the trees surrounding them. "just give me like ten minutes and we'll have you married and you can kiss all you want then."

steve swears he can hear mike groan at that which cause him to grin which cause eddie to grin back and then they're holding hands like it's the only way to get through the next ten minutes. and it might just be the only way to get through it. knowing them, if they didn't hold on tight, one of them would make a move first and there'd be hands around waists and fingers tangled in hair and robin would hate them forever because she wouldn't get to do her speech.

it's after vows are shared, after rings are on fingers, after kisses are pressed to lips and cheeks and temples and hands and everything else they can quickly reach, that the two of them get some peace. everyone is inside eating snacks and drinking cheap champagne, and it goes unspoken that they're going to take some time for themselves. take some time to bask in their new maybe not-so-legally real but as real as could ever be in their hearts marriage.

they make their way, hand in hand like they've always been meant to do, to a table set up for them. eddie pops a bottle of champagne that they pass back and forth between themselves as they share cheesy smiles and champagne-laced kisses. and it's as they look into each other's eyes, fingers lacing so their rings clink softly against each other, that the sun peaks out to say hello once more.

[skibasyndrome]

A little prompt for you :

Wilmon : Wille throws himself on the bed with a wide smile.

Margot! So so so sooo sorry for the ages long wait! Have some older Wilmon coming home to Bjärstad to make up for it💜

"Wille throws himself on the bed with a wide smile that immediately wavers when he hears the wood creaking loudly under the impact. He sits back up quickly. "Shit, it didn't use to do that." Wille looks adorably terrified and adorably out of place on top of Simon's old green sheets in the middle of the tiny bed. Simon just laughs, heaving their suitcase over the storage boxes that are somewhat blocking the doorway to his childhood bedroom, long since turned into a space for anything and everything that his mamá wants to keep out of sight. "Well you used to weigh a little less as well," Simon teases. When Wille throws him an indignant look, he knows he's struck gold. Wille crosses his arms in fake annoyance. "Excuse me?" he starts, and Simon has to bite his lip to stop the big grin from splitting his face in two. "I thought you liked my athletic built," Wille pats the round of his tummy exaggeratedly. And Simon does love that tummy, he does absolutely love cuddling up to it and resting his head on in and wrapping his arms around it when he hugs Wille from behind. Of course he also loved his lanky, couldn't gain a pound if he tried Wille back in the day, in fact, he very cheesily but none the less earnestly loves just about every single version of Wille he could possibly imagine, but that's not the point right now. He puts his bag down next to the empty fish tank. "I do. My bed might not, though," he says, then immediately feels the need to kiss it better, when he sees Wille's mouth twist into an exaggerated pout. In two steps, he's crossed the room, cupping Wille's stubbly cheeks in his hands and bending down to peck him on the lips in a way that feels reminiscent of their early days. But maybe that's just the ambiance making him feel a bit like his teenage self again.

"Mamá said we can also take the couch if this doesn't work," he says gently, brushing a strand of hair out of Wille's face. Wille, however, continues to pout. "Noooo, not the couch," he whines, winding his arms around Simon's middle and tugging, once, twice, before Simon gets the hint. Giggling, he lets himself be pulled down and onto Wille's lap, sliding his own arms around Wille's neck while Wille's land on the small of Simon's back and a little lower. Simon brushes his nose against Wille's. "So creaky bed it is?" He asks in between another two soft pecks. Wille nods into the kisses, smiling and humming and sneaking a warm hand under Simon's shirt, tracing up and down his spine with rough fingertips, making Simon the slightest bit giddy. There really must be something in the air. When Wille presses closer, opening his mouth for Simon with a happy little sigh, Simon mirrors his movements, melts against him. The tension of three hours on the road is slowly draining out of him with Wille so close. It's when Wille very carefully hooks a few fingers into Simon's pants, sliding them underneath the fabric of his briefs, over skin that pebbles into goosebumps at the touch, that Simon pulls away, catching the eyes of a already slightly dazed looking Wille. "Does this make you horny?" Simon asks, mostly as a joke, trying and failing to keep the grin off his face. Wille sucks his kiss-bitten bottom lip in between his teeth. His eyes betray him even before he nods at Simon in a small, sheepish movement. Surely it must have something to do with them being back here, because Simon isn't usually easy like that, not anymore at least, but he feels a little out of breath already, just from Wille's admission alone. Which is ridiculous and silly and a little concerning. But he really can't find it in him to care once Wille's hand moves further down, underneath his clothes. The giggle he lets out when he pushes Wille back and down onto the mattress, quickly chasing his body with his own, is partially at himself, partially at Wille, partially at the ridiculous picture they must make, perched onto the way too small bed. The bed frame complains under their combined weight, and he feels Wille stifle a laugh in the crook of his neck. "This used to be easier," Wille mumbles, and honestly, he might be right, Simon agrees. But that doesn't mean Simon wants them to stop. He just settles his weight on top of Wille, ignoring the creaking, and instead goes for Wille's neck.

hiiiii, I know these have been coming more and more irregularly and I'm terribly sorry about that! I still enjoy doing these so so so much and getting to write a little bit of fic is still the highlight of my day, so if you have any sentences, feel free to keep them coming! I'm just going to have to be a little slow with replying to them because this thesis I've got going on isn't going to write itself haha. Thanks again so so so much for the fun prompt! 💜💜💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I will write you 5(+) more

[luvxiem]

can i request mysta with 9 'i couldn't find a costume, so i just decided to go as your [partner/gf/bf]' and 13 'you're being so lame right now'? fluff please! ^^

last minute

[ INFO ]

✧ word count: ~650

✧ pairing: mysta rias x gn!reader

✧ genre: fluff, little humor

✧ summary: your boyfriend refused to tell you what he was wearing to your best friend's costume party leaving you curious and pouting, but little did you know that he was just deflecting because he hadn't found one yet.

"what are you wearing?"

mysta looks over at you from where he stood in the hallway of your shared apartment, his hand still raised near his head where he was fixing his hair.

"what do you mean?" he asks. "isn't it obvious?"

"well clearly i wouldn't be asking if it was."

"i couldn't find a costume, so i just decided to go as your boyfriend!" said boyfriend of yours is wearing a beige sweater that you tend to steal pretty often and a pair of lightwash jeans, as well as the little magnetic charm bracelet that you bought the two of you on a whim after seeing it on an instagram ad (even you are not safe from big data knowing what you like, and bracelets with magnetic half-hearts that form a full heart when together is exactly the type of thing that you would buy).

"babe, you're being so lame right now. also, couldn't you have done like, y'know, a catboy or something? all you have to do is draw whiskers on your face with eyeliner, it's not that hard."

"i dunno—i just thought it'd be cute if we matched."

"eww, do you have a crush on me? that's cringe," you joke, scrunching your nose in mock disgust. you're unable to hide your smile as mysta's eyebrows raise in confusion. his arms cross over his chest as he leans against the wall with a rather cute pout.

"what are you talking about, we're literally dating," he deadpans.

"says who? do you have proof?"

"the fuck you mean proof—of course there's proof we've been-"

"is the proof in the room with us?" you ask, making a show of looking around the room. mysta groans loudly as his head falls back and that's what breaks you, your laughter loudly ringing in the air while your boyfriend rolls his eyes.

"you are so fucking annoying, you know that?" pushing himself off the wall, mysta walks over to where you're seated on the sofa.

"you love me," you grin, pulling him by the arm down onto the couch beside you. grabbing his chin, you angle his face toward you so that you could leave a sweet kiss on his lips. his face is dusted with a healthy flush when you pull away, and his eyes dart from your own, down to your lips and back to your eyes again. and so, unable to deny your lover of his needs, you peck him again. and again. and again. until he finally has enough of your increasingly aggressive kisses and pushes your face away with a laugh.

"stop it, you kiss like a woodpecker," he whines, the corners of his lips quirking up at the sound of your giggle.

"i can't help it, i just love you sooo much," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing out the 'o' for as long as you could before mysta rolls his eyes at you again.

"you're lucky you're cute,"

"mmhm. y'know what else is cute?"

"what? if you say 'your mom' i'm gonna punt you across the room."

"hey, your mom is very cute! but no, what i was gonna say was your quote unquote boyfriend outfit. since when did you steal this sweater from me?" mysta levels you with an unimpressed stare.

"you mean my sweater? i had to dig it out of your side of the closet, you gremlin."

you tug at the fabric and hum.

"okay, well, it doesn't smell like you anymore so honestly i don't even want it. even if it is super soft."

mysta removes your hand from his sweater and intertwines your fingers instead, rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.

"i knew it, you only want me for my cologne, don't you?"

"hey! i like your ass, too."

"why am i even dating you."

[ WRITTEN 230722 ]

500 follower event prompt list

[cho-aaacho]

A good night's sleep

Archive of Our Own I Masterlist

"Why aren't you sleeping yet, Albert?"

Albert didn't answer your question; he just raised his head for a moment, scanned your figures with a slight smile blooming on his face. His sapphire eyes were beaming underneath the office lamp, but, somehow you could see a tiredness in them, screeching for help.

"Are you okay?" You leaned closer to him, making his shoulder and yours touch each other. You were standing beside him under the same light from his office lamp.

You peered at what he was doing, seeing a pile of paperwork scattered on the table, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. A stern line appeared on your forehead, and you asked calmly, "Does this handsome man need help?"

It's almost midnight, and he bravely decides to ruin his sleep schedule. You don't know how many times he has stayed up late these days; your fingers can't count them anymore, so it's more than 10 times.

The things you remember are finding him gone from the bed. He walked slowly, making sure he didn't make any sounds. Your instincts made you wake up and find him sitting under his office lamp, muttering, biting his pencil, and sometimes on the phone with William.

He isn't a robot; he is still human, and he knows the negative effect of overworking, but... he doesn't care. Dark circles appear beneath his eyes, and his skin has grown paler than usual.

You can almost see his purple and blue veins through his hands. Isn't that really scary? 

Once, you found him coughing in the middle of the night. That sound made you worry, and you couldn't sleep. He had a fever the following day; he called out your name while asleep and had a fever dream. He was so helpless at that time.

A red hue tinted his whole face; his eyes were watery; he squeezed your hands and talked like everything would be fine tomorrow, there was no need to worry about him. But things got even worse than yesterday.

So, you don't want Albert to become like that again. You should avoid that, or at least convince him to have a good night's sleep.

"You're going to catch a fever if you act like this again," you said as you moved your hands and pinched his cheeks, squeezing them in excitement, causing him to chuckle at that moment. 

You added. "Albert is such a naughty boy."

You chuckled again, but now you squeezed his nose. "This handsome face will cry if the master doesn't get enough sleep." 

He pretended to be angry, mimicking Chief Irons' voice. "Hey! Stop that!? I'm not a kid!"

He turned towards you and gazed with soft blue eyes. He blinked twice and shook his head in amusement while laughing as he tried not to fall for your jokes. The moonlight peeked through the curtain, showering his body in its light.

"Yeah, sure. You aren't a kid. A good boy will have a good night's sleep and listen to Mama and Papa. But Albert isn't a good boy, so... he never sleeps at night!" You said it in a teasing tone.

He giggled. "I give up! I give up! So, Albert will be a good boy this time, but he wants a reward from you."

He made a thinking face, and then a little smirk curled from his mouth. "Maybe... just one kiss?"

"Only one?"

You leaned closer to him and felt his breath brush your face. His nose touched yours, and he caressed them with his nose tip. A small kiss was placed on his cheek. You both giggled between the kisses and tasted the sweat from his cheek invading your mouth.

You gasped, breathing on his face. "...like that?"

"More... please?"

You quickly kissed his cheek, moved to his jawline, gave a small lick between them, then moved to his lips. Feeling the warmth of your touch against his was overwhelming for you. You wanted more—more of him, more to taste.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, making the kiss deeper, and he jolted back into the chair, falling onto it. You pinned him with your weight and sat on his lap.

He giggled in between the kisses, laughing at your ecstasy and sinking into passion and desire.

"Oh... dear, I'm so sorry... I know that you want me to be healthy and get enough sleep. So, I'll go to bed this time." 

[munson-blurbs]

Saw your requests were open and just had an idea where Eddie survived the bat attack in s4 and is self conscious of the scars they left behind? Can be smut or fluff or fluffy smut I don’t mind :)

One fluffy fix-it fic, coming right up!

Warnings: so much fluff, so much angst, mentions of sex/nudity but no explicit details, descriptions of Demobat attack and scars, mentions of hating one's body

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Thank you for requesting this <3 I am so partial to Eddie's vulnerability, and this was really cathartic for me to write.

--

"Hey, Steve?" you turn to your friend and co-worker, who is busy checking out a group of 20-something women who just walked into Family Video. "Steve!" you call a little louder, finally getting his attention.

"Huh-what?" he looks over, flustered.

"Hi. Could you stop drooling over those college girls long enough to help me with something?" you tease, but your question is actually serious, something you need to confide in him.

Steve gives you the middle finger but rests his elbows on the counter and leans in. "Sure, fine."

"So you know how you and Robin set me up with Eddie over the summer?" you start, fiddling with your vest. You always play with your clothes when you're nervous.

"Uh-huh," he nods. "And as I recall, it was a great job on our part, because you two have been inseparable ever since." He laughs. "I call best man at the wedding, by the way."

You look down at the ground, tears welling in your eyes. "Steve, I...I don't think there's gonna be a wedding." you confess quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, what's going on? Are you...are you breaking up with him?" Steve looks heartbroken, almost as if you're breaking up with him and not his buddy.

"I think I have to. He's not interested in me anymore, but he won't pull the plug on it. It just keeps dragging on."

Steve wrinkles his nose and furrows his brows. He can't ask his follow-up questions because Robin bursts through the door, ten minutes late for her shift.

"Sorry, sorry, Vickie and I fell asleep and I thought I set an alarm..." she trails off after seeing the puzzled look on Steve's face and the devastated look on yours. "Who died?"

"Y/N and Eddie's relationship," Steve reports sadly as you elbow him.

"What?" Robin screeches, attracting the attention of the customers. She's unbothered by this as she continues, "why did you break up?"

"We didn't break up yet," you say as you glare at Steve, "but I can't stay in a relationship with someone who doesn't want to be with me. It's not fair to either of us."

"Is this a joke?" Robin asks you, then asks Steve: "Is she joking? She has to be joking."

Steve shrugs. "Seems pretty serious to me."

"Y/N, why on God's green Earth would you think that Munson isn't into you?" Robin's eyes keep shifting from you to Steve. "The man never shuts up about how much he loves you, how he 'found the one.' Honestly, it's kinda nauseating."

"Because..." you start, then drop your voice to a whisper, "we've been together for six months and we haven't done anything more than kiss. Fully clothed." You're so embarrassed to admit it. While most 20-year-old guys would be frothing at the mouth to sleep with their partner, or at the very least see them naked, Eddie would always pull the plug on make-out sessions once things got really heated.

Steve and Robin share a knowing look but say nothing.

"What?" you ask, desperate to be in on their secret. "What do you two know that I don't?"

Robin sighs. "Look, I'm the first person to tell girls to dump a loser boyfriend. But Eddie...his situation is more complex than that." She places a comforting hand atop yours. "Just talk to him before you end things, okay? Give him a chance to explain."

"Okay," you agree numbly, although you're not sure if you want an explanation about why your boyfriend is apparently repulsed by you.

~

After work, you drive to Eddie's trailer. He knows your work schedule and is already waiting outside, shivering in the cold December air.

"Eddie, what are you doing? It's freezing!" you call out as you turn off your car. The sound of your voice immediately puts a smile on his face.

"Waitin' for my girl to come warm me up," he walks over to your old truck to help you out, extending a hand as you hop out of the driver's seat. You take it, and as soon as your feet touch the ground, he pulls you in for a kiss. You're hesitant to return it, very aware of the impending conversation you need to have, and he senses your resistance.

"No kiss?" he asks, pouting his lips. He's so cute that it may kill you. You may literally die of Eddie Munson Sweetness Overload.

"Hey, um, Eds, can we talk inside?" you give his hand a quick squeeze. He stands frozen for a moment but then nods.

"Uh, sure. You're kinda scaring me, though." He shuffles ahead of you to open the door.

"Thanks." Your voice is barely audible. You make a beeline for the couch and pat the spot next to you. Eddie sits and takes your hands in his.

"Eddie, I need you to be honest with me. I'm tough; I can take it," you crack a small smile, trying to be brave when you actually feel like sobbing. "Do you want to be with me?"

Your boyfriend's eyes widen. "Of-of course, baby. Why would you think that I don't? I practically worship the ground you walk on. Just ask Steve and Robin!"

"Then h-how come," your voice breaks and you try to blink back tears, "how come you keep pushing me away when I try to take things farther? I don't want to pressure you, and I respect if you're not ready, but..." You feel a tear slide down your cheek and you get frustrated with your own emotions. "It's okay if you're not attracted to me," you finish quietly.

"Oh. Oh, sweetheart," he pulls you in for a tight hug, as close as he can get while sitting on a sofa. "Baby, that's not it at all. You are the most beautiful, sexy, incredibly gorgeous woman I've ever met." He rubs his eyes and you can practically see him overthinking. "Come with me," he says and leads you into his room.

"Now you're scaring me," you muse but listen. He moves an empty box of Honeycomb cereal from his bed onto his already overflowing dresser and sits you down.

"What I'm about to tell you is going to sound...insane, at the very least. But you can ask Robin and Steve. Even Dustin, although he's never much of a reliable source anyway."

And then Eddie launches into a story about a place called the Upside Down, a pseudo-Hawkins that's overrun with monsters and controlled by someone called Vecna. Vecna, he explains, is the reason why Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick died, and why Max was in a coma.

"And-and you remember the Starcourt Mall fire?" He's sputtering now, as though he's unable to stop talking now that he's started. "That damage was actually caused by a creature called the Mind Flayer. And it was defeated by Mike Wheeler's telekinetic girlfriend and Henderson's super genius girlfriend." He goes on about the Hawkins Lab, Russian involvement, government cover-ups, the Will Byers case that got his little sheep involved in this mess. You take it all in, processing the information silently.

Finally, after you stay silent for longer than Eddie would like, you tell him the words he's needed to hear: "I believe you."

"You do?"

"Yeah. There's always been something weird about this town, all of the disappearances and deaths and fires. I have a lot of follow-up questions," you joke lightly. "But...Eddie, what does this have to do with us not having sex? Does Vecna spare virgins? Because I hate to break it to you, it's a little late for both of us if that's the case."

Eddie shakes his head, tousling his curly mop of hair. "No, that's not it. When I got wrapped up in this, I was so determined to be a hero. I didn't think I had it in me, but after I played Sweetheart in the Upside Down, I just got this...rush, you know? This overwhelming urge to avenge all these deaths, to protect my friends. To be the hero I was too afraid to be outside of Hellfire." He swallows the lump in his throat.

"After Henderson and I ran back to Hawkins--the real Hawkins--the Demobats followed us. They were gonna infiltrate, so I-I went back."

"You went back?" you ask incredulously.

He offers a tight smile. "Hard to believe, isn't it? The same guy who's scared to show you a little vulnerability was voluntarily fighting off a swarm of bats in an alternate dimension."

"What happened?" you whisper, too stunned to cry, though you feel the tears prickling.

"They attacked me. It was awful. The screeching, the bites that seemed to come from all directions, like they wouldn't stop until..." He's trembling and lets out a heaving sob. "Dustin and Steve dragged me out, got me to the hospital just in time. A few more minutes and I wouldn't be here."

"No," you say involuntarily, not wanting to picture a world without Eddie Munson. Your Eddie.

"And every time I see the scars, I just think about how ugly they are, how ugly I am. I promised myself that I'd never let anyone else see them. But when I went to visit Robin and Steve at Family Video and I saw you, so damn pretty even in that horrendous uniform." You can't help but giggle at the compliment. "Harrington was totally oblivious, but Robin noticed me staring at you right away and told me that I'd be a complete moron if I survived all of that and didn't even attempt to get your number."

"That's why you came to visit when they weren't working," you mused, mostly to yourself.

"Honestly, I figured we'd go out, you'd realize what a loser I am, and that would be it. I never thought..." he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly, "never thought that we'd love each other this much."

"Of course I love you, Eddie. I'll always love you," you reassure him. "And I'll keep loving you after you show me your scars."

"Okay. I'll show you. But I want to warn you, even though they're healing well, they're still..."

You interrupt him gently. "It's okay. I'm ready."

Eddie nods and stands up. He slowly lifts his shirt and grimaces slightly. You stifle a gasp. His torso is marred with grotesque bite marks, fading but still prominent. There are parts of his skin that look mismatched, and you realize that the Demobats took so much of him that he needed skin grafts. You hear a sniffle; he's crying harder, and you wipe the tears from his face.

"Can I touch them?" you whisper. "Or will it hurt too much?"

"Just be gentle," he concedes. You lightly run a finger over the pink ridges, in awe of his courage.

"Eddie, you're so beautiful," you say finally and allow yourself to cry alongside him. "How could you ever believe that I'd think otherwise?" You lean in and place soft, purposeful kisses all over his chest and stomach.

"You don't think they're disgusting?" He looks down, defeated. "Because I do. I hate them. Hate them so fucking much."

"I think..." you choose your words carefully. "If I could take away the pain you went through, the pain that led to these scars, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But the scars themselves? Never." You pull him back down so he's sitting next to you again. "They're part of you, and I love every part of you."

Eddie takes your face in his strong hands and kisses you until you're both forced to come up for air.

"I'm not really ready to take my shirt off for long periods of time. I don't even like to shower anymore because I don't want to see them. I just do it so I don't smell for you." He smiles through his tears.

"And I am so appreciative," you joke back. "We don't have to do anything involving undressing until you're ready, Eds. There's no pressure, okay?" You pause for a moment before asking, "But if your concern was with me seeing you, why did you always stop me when I tried to take off my shirt?"

Eddie bows his head bashfully. "I didn't want you to think I was just some douchebag trying to get you naked without ever, y'know, reciprocating."

"So what you're saying is that you're okay with me..."

"Sweetheart, I am more than okay with that," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. "I think about it more than one man should, honestly."

You pull your legs underneath you and snuggle into Eddie's chest. "Good to know." He looks at you amusedly and you clarify. "I'm being serious! I'm glad you like the way I look. I was worried that you didn't."

His arm snakes its way over your shoulder. "Never want you to feel like that again."

You hold out your pinky. "Promise me that we won't hide from each other anymore. When something upset us, about ourselves or about each other, we'll be honest about it."

Eddie smiles, a sight so beautiful that it takes your breath away. He wraps his pinky around yours.

"I promise."

--

[slashingdisneypasta]

How would your horror/slasher faves take care of you when you're sick? 🥺 (I know you've done a cheering up hcs before but maybe this is a lil different ^^)

Get well soon!! Take care of yourself <333

THIS IS SO SWEET! Thank you! ^^ <3<3<3 I hope you're doing better too with your life stuff or at least you will be very soon ^^

I took this opportunity to be super super self indulgent! XD 😅

Horror Villains x Reader || Headcanons +Imagines at the Bottom

Topic: Taking care of you when you're sick ^^

Includes (For HC's): Jim Bickerman and Otis B. Driftwood. Included (For Imagines): Bo Sinclair, Chucky Lee Ray, Drayton Sawyer, Freddy Krueger and Jeffrey Hawk/The Clown. (They aren't in this order, sorry 😅)

Warnings: Otis fucking Driftwood (Meaning nasty smut hc's and a liiitle dub con)

Jim Bickerman:

If you get really clingy when you're sick like me (Opposite to me when I'm healthy 😅😅) he is absolutely on board with that XD Honestly he loves having you sticking close to him, going to him for warmth, laughing a little too easy at dumb jokes, listening intently to whatever he's saying... he eats it up. You're like an adorable little puppy dog, hangin' onto him. He'll almost be disappointed when you get better and don't act like that anymore 😅😅😅

"... Do you need help gettin' changed? I'm happy to help y'out pumpkin, really! Ul-ulterior motive?? No... "

Usually he's a frozen meal kinda man; he's probably got a freezer just packed full of pizza's and little microwave meals, and the most gourmet thing he 'cooks' regularly is campfire sausages in the backyard- but he knows how to make chicken soup and mash some potato's and that's his first duty when you wake up sick as a dog.

You get to wear one of his flannels when you're sick (:(:(: Its big and thick and probably smells like spilled alcohol.

He's probably gonna get himself sick too because he can not stay away from you. He'll be sat next to you most of the time- watching tv with you and entertaining you, eating soup with you, having tea with you, napping with you- basically, this is not your sickness. This is both of y'alls sickness 😅😅😅

"Here, this'll help. Promise ya."

"... That is a bottle of bourbon."

"Exactly." *Shakes it in your face*

Otis B Driftwood (NSFW mostly)

You think a little bit of snot is gonna deter this freak man??? Uh, no. He's still going to try and fuck you if he can swing it. You look so fucking cute with your sore, sore red nose from wiping so much, the bags under your eyes are sexy as hell to him, and you're moving so damn slowly... you think he isn't gonna take that as an opportunity?

So yeah... he is actually quite into you when you're sick. And he'll probably exhaust you to the point that you'll be sleeping a lot and get through this much faster then usual!

He will kiss you, full on the mouth with a foul amount of tongue (Lets see if we can soothe your throat, baby), so I hope his immune system is good.

He is happy to just warm his cock in you while you sleep, or lay there and babble because you're half really unwell and halfway to an orgasm at the same time. You're just so fucking cute.

He is also happy to eat you out/blow you and overstimulate you for hours. What?? This way he wont get sick himself! Isn't that better, you gross, diseased little slut?

Otis also doesn't shy away from mess (Obviously), so if you have tissues everywhere he's not gonna look at you sideways or anything ^^ Which is such a load off my mind, at least! ^^

He's not gonna make you something good to eat, but he's not a total animal- especially when he gets older. He will make you a cup of tea, and you better like it XD

You need a ride to the bathroom? Otis will haul you on his shoulder the whole way and set you down right on the toilet seat 😅 You need someone to hold you up in the shower? Otis is on it- he needs a shower anyway.

+ Imagines

Another one who does not give a damn how 'gross' you might be when you're sick is Jeffrey/the clown. He'll have you set on his big lap snoozing against his shoulder or sniffling and coughing into tissues while he messes around with different potions in his trailer, just keeping you warm and comfortable there. He says if you can put up with him coughing and hacking all over ya all the time he can damn sure handle you're adorable fucken self whimpering into his shoulder all day.

If you tend to have bad dreams when you're unwell due to your fever like I do: Imagine frowning in your sleep, pressing your lips together in a tight line as the scenes in your head just replay or get worse the harder you try to get rid of them or distract yourself. But there's immediate relief as soon as Freddy enters your dream. Just his presence is comforting to you ^^

Imagine convincing Drayton to come to bed with you instead of back to work. It takes some convincing, but its no secret he likes you more then anyone else in the world- literally- and he gives in after a while. He gets back in, fully clothed, and delicately but purposefully gets in close so you can cuddle up to him, sayin 'just for a couple minutes okay??' very sternly, before he falls asleep to you stroking his surprisingly soft hair.

Imagine sitting on a bench in Bo's shop while he works, slowly just making your way through a roll of toilet paper there because you just couldn't bear to be away from him- even if he was paying little attention to you. Imagine him, though, taking a break eventually and standing between your legs, his hands warm on your thighs, to ask you how yer goin, doll?

Chucky's conscious of your illness and does not want to get it, but he'll sit out on the ground on the other side of your bedroom door and talk to you through it. Ask you if you're alive still, talk about whatever goes through his head just to hear you hum in acknowledgement, play 20 questions while he fiddles with a lighter... that kind of thing. And he'll also cook you some soup later (He's just an asshole- not an incompetent asshole).

[thefreakydeaky]

After the Thrill is Gone

Part Ten

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Negan Smith x Reader

Modern AU

Summary: From the first moment you laid eyes on Negan you were inexplicabley drawn to him. The passion between you is hot and only grows more intense the longer you see each other. There is only one problem, you're both married to other people.

Warnings: Dark Fic ,Physical acts of agression, Stalking, Stalker behavior, Smuttyness, Adult Language...

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you read the results again and again. Not only had you betrayed your husband, but now you realized you were making him raise a child that wasn't his. You sat down and closed your eyes. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. What kind of sick joke was it to make Negan the father of your child?

He kneeled down beside the stroller and kissed your sleeping baby on the forehead. You wanted to protest, to tell him to get away from her, but now you had no right to.

He looked at her peaceful little face and you saw triumph in his eyes.Your heart, broken in two could not stand the sight. You stood up and grabbed your purse. As you got behind the stroller, Negan stood in front of it, blocking your exit.

"Where do you think you're going?"

You sniffed as your tears slowed.

"Home." You said simply.

"You are not going anywhere with my daughter. Not until I say so." Negan's tone was threatening.

"Please, don't do this. Just let me go." You tried to keep your voice from shaking.

"This isn't just about you anymore." He moved aside and took hold of your arms. "We need to talk about this."

"No! I'm done talking to you. All you do is bring bad into my life-"

He gave you a rough shake.

"Enough." He chastized. "Let's go."

One hand on your shoulder, he followed you out of the clinic.

"This way." He said gesturing to the left.

You went to the end of the row and recognized his truck. He pressed on your shoulder when you tried to stop in front of the vehicle. You went to the passenger side.

He opened the door for you and told you to get in. Trembling, you got into the seat. He opened the clasp at her waist and gently manuevered the baby out of her stroller.

"Put on the seatbelt." He told you.

Afraid and overwhelmed, you did as you were told. He put Millie into your arms and shut the door. You watched him breakdown the stroller and put it in the back of the truck. Then he got in.

At the coffee shop, you were reluctant to hand him your baby as he stood waiting expectantly with the stroller.

"The sooner we figure things out, the sooner we can leave."

You let him take Millie from you. She opened her bleary eyes, looked up at Negan and smiled.

He kissed her chubby cheek and put her back into her stroller. It was like being in a dream. So surreal. You found a table in the back corner and sat as Negan ordered a drink at the counter.

You stared at Millie as if you were seeing her for the first time. You looked at each feature of her face in turn. Her eyes, her nose, her lips, her chin. You now realized that the features you had recognized in her had always been yours and not Daryl's. Now, as you thought about it you realized the dimples that showed when she smiled, she had gotten from Negan. The shape of her nose, Negan. Her beautiful eyebrows, Negan. How had you not seen it before? How could you have been so oblivious?

You startled as Negan set a cup down in front of you.

"Lavender Chamomile tea, with honey and cream." He sat in the chair opposite yours.

"I'm a father. I can barely wrap my head around it." He looked at your napping baby with wonder in his eyes.

"I want to get to know her. I want to be in her life."

You took a shakey breath.

"I get that for you this is a good thing, but you have to understand, my whole life is ending. My marriage will end. Everything is going to change."

Negan's eyebrow raised.

"The decisions you made are what brought you here. You expect me to feel bad?"

Your eyes brimmed with water.

"Daryl will hate me. He will leave me. I-I can't raise three kids on my own. I can't."

"You're gonna have to tell him. Keeping the affair from him is one thing, but this? This he'll never forgive you for."

"Exactly. He will never forgive me. And my boys. I can only imagine what my boys will think of me. So, please, please just don't tell anyone yet. Please?"

"Are you asking me not to tell my wife or... your husband?" He prodded.

You felt the tears begin to flow. To your surprise, Negan reached over and placed his large hand over your smaller one.

"Alright. Alright." He said quietly. "Don't do this to yourself. I won't ruin the life you've built. On one condition."

You looked at him.

"From now on you do exactly what I say."

Your eyes widened in horror.

"N-no! I-I can't!"

"Listen, it's not just your life that will change. Your sons' lives will change."

"Please don't ask this of me! Negan, I -"

"Kids don't do well with divorce. Kids need stability. Are you sure you want to put them through that?" His expression was serious, his tone laced with feigned concern.

You shook your head.

"I-I don't. I don't want that."

"Good. Then you'll do what I tell you to."

"But-"

"From now on," He interrupted, "If I need to talk to you, you will answer the God Damn phone. If I want to see Camilla, you will make the time to meet with me. What I say, goes. Do you understand?"

You swallowed the sob trying to escape your throat and nodded.

He squeezed your hand.

"You can have it all," He said your name with tenderness in his tone. "You have been the only thing standing in your way. Now that I've fixed that, you should thank me for it."

You gazed into his hazel eyes, their warm depths so familiar to you. You were filled with dread at the realization that he had you right where he wanted you.

You stared at him.

His grip on your hand tightened to the point of being painful.

"Go on. Do it."

The sharp pain in your knuckles urged you to speak.

"Thank you." You mumbled.

"What was that?" A smile sat smugly on his lips.

"Thank you." You said through gritted teeth.

"Atta girl." He commended you and released his grip on your hand.

"Well if it isn't, Misses Dixon. Hey there!"

You turned to see Lori, the wife of one of Daryl's friends.

"Hey!" You stood up and went to give her a hug. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, Good good. I was really craving one of those apple cinnamon latte's and decided to drop by on my break. How are you?"

"I'm doing alright." You told her, smiling politely.

You noticed her eyes stray to Negan.

"How rude of me," You laughed lightly. "This is Negan Smith, he is one of Wyatt's teachers and is trying to convince me to let Wyatt be on the baseball team." The lie came so easily.

He stood and held out his hand to Lori.

"What can I say, the kid has a great arm and I am a fan of winning." He said following your lead as he shook her hand.

She nodded and smiled.

"We haven't seen you all in a while. We should get together. What do you think of a cook out? Maybe, Next weekend?" She asked.

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds like a good time. Let's do it."

She beamed at you.

"Alright, well, I gotta get back to it. You'll call me later to make plans?"

"Sure." You smiled back at her.

She told Negan it was nice meeting him and went on her way.Your smile faded once she was out the door.

"I know you feel confident that we won't get caught, but I don't. Everytime we meet I'm risking breaking apart my family and destroying my marriage. This is a prime example of-"

"I get it. We'll go somewhere less public next time."

You blinked dumbly for a second as what he was saying hit you.

You had no choice. Now he could have access to you whenever he wanted. You looked at Millie. As far as she had known for all her little life, Daryl was her Daddy. Daryl would surely want nothing to do with her if he found out. She wouldn't understand why she couldn't see or be with her father anymore. And Negan would only give her the time he could get away with giving her. Lucille would always be his main concern. Your child would not be a priority to him. For Daryl all of your children were his first priority. You couldn't take that away from her. She deserved to be treasured. While things between you and Daryl were not the best, when it came to your family life with your kids he was happy. Yes, it was a fucked up situation, but it did not benefit Millie or Daryl for you to tell the truth.

[deadbydangit]

With an injured Reader

Legion (Frank), Dwight, Doctor

Legion (Frank)

"Oh damn babe. You got the shit beat out of you huh?"

If it isn't too bad, he'll ask for the story.

If it's something cool like getting injured in a fight.

"Shit. That's badass."

Lots of hyping up.

If it was an accident.

"Ha, stupid."

But he's teasing.

He's constantly getting hurt, so you're often patching him up.

He doesn't have a lot of room to judge.

If it's really serious, he won't be joking around.

He has three other Legion members willing to help patch you up.

But none of them are doctors.

They need someone qualified to do this.

You have to admire Frank's tenacity and calm in this situation.

He's acting like a leader.

He's actually freaking out, but he doesn't want to risk stressing you.

That would make things worse.

He'll be with you at all times during the mend.

Anything you need, you let him know.

If he doesn't have it, he'll personally go fetch the item while another Legion member watches you.

If someone hurt you things will get way more intense.

The group will wait till you're asleep, then sneak out.

They'll come back covered in enough blood to paint the walls.

"Don't worry baby. They won't be an issue anymore. Right guys?"

No one messes with his s/o.

Dwight Fairfield

You'd think he'd be freaking out.

Like, a full on panic attack.

But he's surprisingly calm.

He's dealt with more injuries in one day than most doctors do in a lifetime.

Patching up others inside or outside trials, he's seen his fair share of blood and gore.

So, no, if you get blood in him, he probably won't even notice it.

If it isn't too bad, he'll patch you up himself.

Dwight wants to hear what happened.

He's very protective of you.

If it's an accident, you can both laugh about it.

"Be more careful next time, clutz."

And he'll kiss your nose.

If something really bad happens, he won't be so calm.

He doesn't know how to deal with this big of an emergency.

He'll be running around both the survivor and killer campfires, begging for help.

Adam and Bill were his best bets.

He's dragging them to you.

"Please! I can't lose them! I love them so much! I can't-"

They'll have to get someone to take him out of the area so they could patch you up.

He'll get you anything you want!

Anything!

And he'll be on you constantly.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? In pain? Do you need a blanket?"

It's kind of overbearing.

But he can't imagine a world without you.

He couldn't bear to live in a world without you.

Doctor

Oh my.

He looks you over with a look of concern and interest.

Well, fortunately for you, Herman Carter just so happens to be a doctor.

It's your lucky day.

Maybe.

He isn't too skilled in the actual healing part.

He's the one who causes the injuries.

But he still has enough knowledge to get you through anything.

He's too proud to ask for help, but if it's life or death, he'll ask Sally for assistance.

He's always checking in your wounds, keeping careful track of the healing process.

Herman also knows how to wrap wounds and can do it with ease.

In short, he knows exactly what he's doing.

"I'm a doctor after all."

He's very proud of that, so just let him have it.

"I'll be right next door in my office. You let me know if you need anything. I'll be back in a few hours to apply more ointment and check in on you."

If someone hurt you, don't be surprised to wake up to their body parts scattered about the room.

"Oh, this? An eye for an eye dear."

Except it isn't.

He just brutally dismembered that person.

But he did it all in the name of love.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

I just...really needed to write these. I desperately needed these little scenes out of my head. Have some war mage vignettes!

Collection 1 - Collection 2

TWs: stitches, alcohol, discussion of being shot in the head, near death experiences

"So that's the intel. Get to bed. Lights out." Luis said, wrapping up the meeting in the war mages' living room. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow. We set off at dawn."

All of them stood, stretching and turning to head back to their rooms, until Laredo stopped. "Hey, Luis."

"Hm?" Luis paused, gathering up his notebooks. "What is it?"

"Can I have a kiss goodnight?"

Luis' expression shifted through several expressions before settling on confusion. "What...no." He said, as his almost thirty-year-old subordinate pouted.

"Not on the lips!" Laredo argued, committing to the bit. "On the forehead! You never give us good night kisses!"

The others held their breath. Mariano almost wasn't sure what to do from here. Laredo was the one least likely to get yelled at over a joke like this, and he was glad that Manuel hadn't decided to ask.

Luis pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head as he let out a tired laugh. "If all the objectives get done before the time limit is halfway over, we'll see about one. Now go to bed."

The living room erupted into cheers from all five men, and Luis left, still shaking his head as he closed the front door.

--

"We're gonna die here." Manuel muttered, huddled up in a corner. His knees were drawn to his chest as Mariano stitched a deep gash in his arm closed.

Dimitri shot a glare at their medic from his post at the doorway of their dim room. "We're not going to die here." He hissed. "I don't care that this was a fucking trap. We don't die."

Laredo nodded. "Remember? A war mage isn't dead until there are two bullets in his brain."

Izan hummed. "I still think one is enough for that. I don't think I'd want to fight after getting shot in the head, at all."

"I would." Dimitri growled. "I'd wanna take it out and reforge it and then shoot it back. Our magic is hot enough, it wouldn't take long."

Mariano nodded, frowning. "I don't think I'd want to shoot the bullet back, but I'd want to hit them with my magic."

"But what if you can't see them?" Izan asked. "Because of the blood, or whatever."

"He has two hands, and his mouth." Laredo said. "He doesn't cast from his eyes, and that's still like. Three chances."

Manuel hummed. "It might work, I guess."

"Alright, alright." Dimitri said, rolling his eyes. "If Manuel isn't bleeding out anymore, we need to get out of here. We only have fifteen before Luis leaves."

The others collectively grumbled their agreement, donning their casting masks and gloves again before resuming their escape.

--

"I still don't know how you survived that, Rookie." Izan said, sipping the margarita that Laredo had poured. "I thought you would've been crushed."

Dimitri laughed. "Yeah, I saw that whole building coming down on you and thought you were about to just be a stain on the concrete."

Mariano took a long drink, relishing the burn of the alcohol he absolutely was not supposed to have. Laredo had insisted, and given him the group's special cup. It was the one with glitter inside the plastic that rolled around as you tilted it.

"Oh, me too." He said, setting it down on the table as he leaned back in his seat. "I thought I was gonna just--." Mariano held one hand up, parallel to the floor, and clapped his other hand firmly against it.

"You even dug your way out in like, five minutes." Laredo said, sliding a water towards Mariano. "The guys who did it had barely left."

"Guess I'm just a cockroach, huh?" Mariano said, grinning.

Manuel started laughing, gripping his own arms as he threatened to tip over onto the floor. "I like it--I wanna be a cockroach." He said, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Me too," Laredo said, grinning. "Let's be cockroaches. You can't just assume we're dead until you actually see us die."

"To being cockroaches." Izan said.

"Cockroaches!" The rest of them echoed, raising their drinks high.

--

Luis came back into the briefing room, two boxes of pizza balanced on one hand. He didn't look happy, but he also didn't look furious. "Laredo." He said, dropping both boxes onto the meeting table. "This is a secure site, you cannot order pizza to here."

"I didn't!" Laredo said, with the desperation of a man wrongly accused. "I swear, I don't even have my phone on me." He pointed at the metal lock-box where their personal affects were stored before missions.

"You can schedule a delivery." Luis argued. "I've done that before, when I knew my day would be busy."

"No! Guys, back me up. I wouldn't do that again." Laredo pleaded, looking around the room.

Dimitri shrugged. "You only got twenty laps the last time you did it, I don't know..."

"Dimitriiii." Laredo dropped his head to the table as he whined, defeated.

Luis shook his head, opening his mouth to start lecturing his elite group of soldiers who certainly should have known better, when there was a knock at the door. It opened after a moment, and Luis' direct boss poked his head in, looking concerned. Luis looked over, tone already lightening up. "General Lanzo, how can I--"

The general's face washed over with relief when he saw the pizza on the table. "Ah, there it is, thank you Luis." He said, fully entering the room, paper plates in hand. "I don't know why they called you, I gave my name and number to the pizza place for the driver."

Luis watched in disbelief as the man in charge of him started loading pepperoni pizza slices from the top box onto the plates and passing them out to the war mages.

"I had a feeling this might happen, so I ordered an extra." General Lanzo handed Luis his plate last. "As thank you, for driving out to the gate to get it and putting up with my interruption. Enjoy!" With a wave, he picked up the empty box, along with his own, and left the room.

All five mages looked between each other, then to Luis, still frozen and holding his cheap paper plate. They were silent until Manuel spoke up. "So...can we...?"

Defeated, Luis dropped down into his chair, massaging his temples. He waved a hand, picking up his own pizza. "Yes. Yes. Ten minutes." He said, wearily. "It would be a waste of the protocol breach not to."

"I wish he was our boss." Izan said, as dry as ever.

Luis laughed, shaking his head. "Trust me, you don't."

[the-illiterate-pirate]

@return-of-a-space-cowboy I COME BARING FOOD. MAYBE NOT THE BLACKMORE CONTENT WE WANTED, BUT THE BLACKMORE CONTENT WE NEEDED.... Apologies if he's out of character

Oh, Be Tender

Notes: Wounds and blood, NSFW, blow jobs hehe. I think Blackmore calls you ma'am once but after that I tried to be gender neutral for all the Blackmore simps

He would be home on the next storm that passed through, that's what Blackmore had told you days ago. You knew you could trust him, but with his line of work, it was easy to worry, and for your mind to wander

The storm raged on. And yet, you waited for him, heart aching for the man you called yours. The awning above you shielded you from the rain. Lightning illuminated the water falling from the sky occasionally. You counted the seconds between each strike. At this point you could worry the lightning would get him before any assassin.

Lightning struck again, and this time you saw his figure, heart beating right into your chest. But something was wrong; he wasn't in the sky. Instead, Blackmore was walking on the ground.

You had the mind to grab your umbrella before you ran out to him, boots kicking up puddles in the mud around you. Blackmore could barely be heard over the rain saying your name, before he collapsed into your arms. His sopping wet figure clung to you and your clothes, a cold nose pressing deep into the crook of your neck, sighing your name again, deeply and full of clouded emotion.

"Y/n."

"What's happened?"

Blackmore whined in pain, saying nothing but leaning slightly to the side, opening his left arm to show you his stomach. Despite the dark coating and the night sky, you could still see the odd hole in his poncho and shirt, and the dark liquid staining his wrist.

"You got shot?" You deduced.

"I stopped most of the bleeding using rain droplets, but the bullet is still in me... 'm so~rry..." You sushed him quickly with a soft kiss, guiding him home without trying to drop your umbrella.

After dropping him down on your bed, you quickly strip Blackmore of his poncho and peel away his bloody shirt. He has two bullet wounds, not just one. Definitely not good, but it could be worse. Blackmore's nerves are steeled throughout the process of you grabbing towels, tweezers, and water. At the time you didn't have the right equipment you wished you had. A stupid mistake. Blackmore normally came home with wounds in need of patching up, but it's never been bullet holes until tonight. You should've prepared for more, but alas, there isn't time to beat yourself up. You needed to help him.

You sterilized your pair of tweezers before bringing them to light, "I'm going to try and get the bullets out. I need you to stay absolutely still, so I don't do anymore damage, okay?" Blackmore nodded, 

"Yes ma'am." His hand grabbed on to the bedframe for dear life, knuckles turning pale, but his body was stiff and still. He'd try his best to be still for you.

You got to work quickly, not wanting to doddle. Your hand was steady, shockingly. You weren't sure where you found the strength, but you were able to get the pieces of metal out of his abdomen. They came out in one clean try each, getting added to the small tray you left out for them, collecting in a small puddle of Blackmore's blood. After that was done, you wiped away the wet and dried blood surrounding the wounds, finding his pale skin underneath. The bleeding had slowed, but didn't show any signs of stopping. All you had to stop it was padding and gauze. It would have to do. For now.

"Honestly Blackmore. Leaving me alone for so long and only coming back to make me patch you up. It's almost unforgivable." You hid your paranoia with gentle jests as you wound the gauze around his midsection. "You're lucky you're good looking, I just can't say no to a face like yours." You added on, hoping it was clear enough for him to know you were only joking. You didn't want him to feel guilty. It's not like he could control it. You did wish the president didn't work him so hard.

Blackmore grunted lightly with the final knot in his bandages. You sat back to appreciate your handy work, "It isn't much, but it'll do. After this storm lets up, I'll go and see if I can't find a real doctor who can patch you up the way you need it." A sweet kiss was added to his precious face. You cupped his cheek with your hand, staring into those deep blue eyes. They were hazy, as any would after losing so much blood. But they were open, if not a little droopy, as he stared back at you with devout adoration, caressing the back of your palm with his thumb.

"You did your best. Thank you." You kissed again, silencing him before he said more. "'m sorry for making you worry."

"Don't be, dear. I'm just happy that you're here again."

Your kisses slowly got more sensual and deeper, as his mouth opened to yours, playing with your tongue with his. You found yourself on top of your husband, letting loose his wet hair and burying your fingers in his locks. You didn't add any weight on him, that only made Blackmore more needy for you. He craved your weight on his chest, it made him feel secure and safe in your arms.

It has been days since you've felt him so close, had him in your arms. Your core burned for more of him, heart racing in your chest with every whine and gentle moan of appreciation coming from Blackmore's mouth. Despite your burning lungs begging for air you never wanted to leave his candy lips.

For Blackmore's sake, you finally pulled away from your trap. Gasping for breath against each other's mouths, afraid of splitting too far apart. He stared into your gorgeous eyes more, until the line of saliva connecting your lips snapped and pulled him out of his lustful stupor. In a fit of embarrassment he looked away, ashamed, wiping the shared drool away in his palm. "I'm sorry... I got a little carried away."

You pulled his head back, pressing your forehead against his temple. "Don't be, love... It's clear we both enjoyed it." The hand against his chest began to move. From beneath his bandages you could see his ribs. No matter what you did, this man would not gain any weight. You worked hard, but this man's metabolism worked harder. He was stick thin, but he was beautiful to you. Your hands brushed against his skin, not adding any pressure as they glided against his chest and gauze, down to the skin tempting you above his jeans. You forced down the saliva collecting in your mouth.

"Let's get you out of these pants. You're soaked down to the bone, it isn't good for you." Blackmore didn't oppose you. He waited patiently with wide eyes, for you to fumble with his belt and the button of his jeans. Even before they were pulled down you could see his member trying to break free from his briefs. You shot him a sly look. "Looks like you're a lot happier to see me than I thought."

"You have no idea." Your husband nervously giggled, biting his first two knuckles.

Your lips followed your fingers, trailing delicate kisses over his gauze and his hot bulge still locked away in his underwear. "There has to be some way I can repay you for all your hard work..."

Now his pupils threatened to take over his irises. The perfect picture of your mouth on his cock was driving his heart wild. "Y-Ya really don't need to do that, sugar. Besides I... I won't be able to do anything for you."

"Don't worry about that, honey. Just relax, and let me take care of you. You deserve it." The sentence was punctuated with you pulling down the rest of his briefs.

Your lips teased the line of skin running down to his length, kissing him and adding tiny kitten licks until you found his weeping cock head. "So sensitive... We haven't done anything and you've already ruined your britches." You didn't say anymore and instead decided to indulge in his salty length. Immediately Blackmore was a groaning mess. All he could do was collapse backwards and melt into your mouth. It didn't take much at all to get him trembling underneath you.

You tasted his cum leaking into the back of your throat already. He pulsated on your tongue and it only made you more desperate to swallow him whole.

"Y-You're s-so pretty." He wheezed while his hand weakly reached for your hair. "S-So pretty. I'm so lucky to have you, Y/n."

There were practically hearts in his eyes as he stared down at you taking him completely in your mouth.

After being frozen for a moment, you decided on swapping out your mouth for your hand, slowly pumping his length so you could tell him, "...I feel just the same, Blackmore. I love you, 'nd I'll always be here to take care of you when you need me most." You teasingly added a light peck on his cock head. With no more than a strangled moan as a warning, Blackmore came on your mouth, his spend leaking down the side of his length and sticking to your lips. You watched in shock as he came down from the high of his orgasm, letting loose high pitched whines for you from his trembling lips.

You looked up to see his hands hiding his eyes, dark red blush covering his face. "Guess I was more excited to see you than I thought... 'm sorry." He nervously laughed, hiding his face more.

After licking away the cum sticking to your face you moved to sit next to him in bed. Blackmore immediately moved to be cuddled up in your arms, careful for his wounds but quickly wrapping you up in his slim arms. You both shared a languid kiss, Blackmore tasting his spend on your lips, rewarding you with another soft moan.

"You're so good t'me." He sighed. He moved again to cuddle into your chest, staring up at you with eyes that suggested you were a higher being compared to him. "Too good... I still wanna please you, too. Maybe I can't use my body, or my mouth right now. But I can still use my hand if you'd like!"

You shot a look down at the hand resting on your thigh. Earlier you were too busy trying to get Blackmore out of the rain and patched up. There wasn't any time for him to wash up, you just needed to make sure he was safe, as well as satisfied. Who knows when was the last time he washed his hands, or what kind of junk he's been putting them in.

"No, thanks. I'll be fine, I'm sure you'll remember to pay me back after your wounds have healed."

"Are y'sure?"

"Yes sir. Now, why don't we get you in a nice, hot bath? Then we can both fall asleep listening to the rain together."

"That does sound good." He smiled slightly, "But can we eat something before we go to bed maybe? I'm starving."

"Of course, love. I should be able to whip something up while you wash off." You added one last kiss on his nose, and set out to start a bath.

[the-knaves-world]

This life and our next

Lilia x reader, I needed angst. GN!reader

This was new but hope it's good enough!

In the rubble of the mirror chamber, amidst the screams of your friends and the tremors of the aftershocks from the dragon form of malleus' overblot, lies a body.

A body with long black hair and pale, lifeless skin and dull raspberry red eyes. A bloody smile and the forms of a found family mourning.

"Lilia! Lilia please, don't leave us!" You cry, heart pounding so hard that your chest aches and your breathing is harsh from the tears that flow like the stream that Lilia showed you, where he proposed.

"My Dove, don't cry. I hate it when you cry, my love." Lilia brushes his hand across your cheek, hoping that what warmth his body has left is enough to soothe your tears, for now.

Silver tries to hold back his tears as his father and his stepparent say their final farewells. "It was an honor to be your son, Lilia. Thank you for everything. We will never forget you." Silver knows if he speaks more than this, he will fall to pieces. Silver cannot cry yet, his stepparent needs him.

"Lilia! It has been an honor to train under you. Thank you for the years you've given us!" Sebek is audible over the screams of the teachers and other students.

Sebek looks so very fragile. You have never seen your boys look so pained. Not even when lilia would cook dinner.

Brushing your lips over lilias temples, nose, cheeks and finally his lips, you whisper "I know you have lived for so long that asking for you to stay any longer is selfish but..." You hiccup through your tears and finish your sentence.

"Please stay with me. With us. We want more time with you. I haven't gotten to walk down the aisle to you in your tux yet. We haven't gotten our first dance as a married couple yet. We deserve more time, my love."

You brush your tears to see him clearly, you want to keep him alive in your vision, your memory, as long as possible. Pressing another light, fluttering kiss to his lips, you feel him getting colder.

"I want nothing more than more time with you. I waited so long to find you. I had more love with you than I have in the past 500 years." Lilia squeezes your hand with what strength he has left and whispers. "I will find you in our next life, no matter what it takes. My dove, take care of yourself. I love you more than the stars."

Looking over to his son and his unofficial child, he calls out weakly. "Look after them silver, it seems I have nothing left to teach my sons." With a weak chuckle, Lilia closes his eyes.

"The stars are beautiful, my dove. Just look up and see my love for you painted over the night sky."

Lilias' chest has stopped moving and all that remains in its stillness is the sobs of his family that will never truly recover from their loss.

~Some time later~

Everyday was a struggle with grief. Little by little things like breathing becomes easier. Things like cooking and joking about him becomes happier.

"Don't burn the Mac!" From silver followed by a sarcastic "I'm not ya father, Silver. Mac 'n' cheese is safe with me." Brings laughter that isn't fully drowned out by tears or sobs anymore.

Tucking your boys into bed had become a new habit since their fathers death. Yes, even the king of Briar Valley gets tucked in.

Walking out onto the backporch and sitting down to marvel up at the stars. Lilia was absolutely right about the view in Briar Valley. He would have loved the new backyard too. A patch of lilies and forget-me-nots were planted along not only the sides of the house but all over the back fence line.

Looking up and seeing the stars that shine so brightly, he said he loved you more than the stars. "How could you love so immensely?" You whisper to the soft darkness of the valley.

You had made it a habit to come out to the backyard so that your sobs couldn't wake silver. You had made the mistake of crying inside once. Never again, the boys all came rushing into the room to soothe you. They were so tired the next day.

Letting your shoulders shake with tears that had long become silent, you feel the wind blow and brush against your cheeks. Raising your head and looking up to the blanket of stars that your bat loved so much, you feel warmth against your back.

Turning your head, you expect to see one of your boys or a royal guard that heard you step outside, there was no one. Just a lingering warmth that felt so achingly familiar. "Lilia...I miss you so much."

A warmth spreads across your cheek and swear you hear him speak to you. "In our next life, no matter what, my love." Your tears don't cease, instead they flow, just like that day in the destroyed mirror chamber.

"I can't lose you all over again." The words 'this isn't fair' repeatedly fall from your lips with such pain that the shadows seem to react to them.

And then...everything just stops. The shadows don't dance around you, the crickets go silent, the fireflies cease to glow.

The wind has even ceased to blow. That was unsettling in Briar Valley. The wind never completely stops, only dies down to a gentle breeze. Hearing no signs of life is rather disconcerting.

Looking up to the stars and then to the garden, you stand and walk over to the forget-me-nots and see them gently swaying in the nonexistent breeze. You planted them for you and Lilia.

Warmth once more envelops your back, like it always did when lilia hugged you from behind. "Lilia, I take it you like them?" Laughing lightly through your tears.

"Lilia, I can't wait for you to find me again. Please, don't keep me waiting this long. Never again lilia."

Feeling the wind shift and kick up again you turn and you swear that you see his outline. His pointed ears only visible because the house is right behind him. You can practically hear his laughter, twinkling like bells on the wind.

Just like that, his presence was gone. You never felt him again.

~200 years later~

Walking out of university classes at the end of the day was an experience that was both joyous but also tiring. The joy of being done with classes but also the tiredness of having to walk the entirety of campus to get back to a somewhat loud dorm.

Ramshackle dorm, once abandoned and rundown, now thriving and dedicated to the human that saved the Nightraven College and it's students.

Once the worlds became traverseable for people that were not fair folk, Nightraven became accepting of students from the same world as the human from the history books.

Passing by the green and black clad students of diasomnia, you're reminded of the stories about the fae that had loved the human from your world. How their scream and sobs echoed through the damage of the old mirror chamber.

Silly old history stories that the new history professor this year loves to blabber on about. The rumor is that he was around 200 years ago. 'I doubt it, why would he want to come back here?'

Deciding on a trip to the new Cafe in town, you change out of the uniform and find a spot in your own little corner of the cozy place. When your order is called you make your way over to the barista and grab your order.

On the walk back you pass by a boy, your age if you were to hazard a guess, and you can't help but keep looking over to him. "Staring is quite rude, don'tcha know?" He cheekily quips.

Embarrassed at having been caught, your face warms and you feel the urge to bury your face into your folded arms. You hear the chair in front of you squeal and hear him plop onto the chair.

"Well little one, those were some seriously serious looks you were giving me." He leans his elbows on the table and puts his head on his hands with a certain smile.

"What were you thinking, hmmm?" The man has a deeper voice than you thought he would. Looking at him you feel a sense of deja vu.

"Have we met before little one?" The ache in your chest that always seemed to be there...loosened and then simply faded away.

"I don't think so but you seem familiar. Are you from around here? Or just here for college?" He laughs and it clicks.

Breathing in a lung full of air and feeling the tell tale tightness of your throat, you whisper "Lilia..."

Feeling him take your hands across the table and that warmth that always haunted your dreams. The dreams of a time that caused you to take the scholarship from Nightraven College in the first place.

"I said our next life. I meant it, my dove." Feeling his lips feather over your fingertips sent those shivers up your spine. "Welcome back my love. No tears this time."

This life will be a good one. One with years together, not just one.

Across the street stands a green haired crocodile and the black haired king. Happy to see their caretakers together once more.

"So, do you think that silver will be back soon?" "YOUNG MASTER?!" The laughter from the king of thorns and his father figure resound through the dusk of their new start together.

[visionsofmagic]

Hiiiiii... I've come to bother you again... It's just a stupid idea and you don't have to do anything with it... I'm sorry...

When we were at the very beginning of our career, a lot of people were joking, and someone, really believed, that in many years, we would take the place of Homelander, as a leader. Of course, Homelander himself didn't like this idea. But, sometimes, even to him that thoughts came, that he was not eternal, that, let it really be us, and not some "second-rate hero"... After all, the memory of him will live in us. But such thoughts are extremely rare, and he quickly banishes it.

But we never aimed for a place in the Seven. The Seven is directly associated with papa, respectively, if there is no papa, there will be no the Seven. The logic of the child works flawlessly. And now, that we have been away from all this for so long, we realized, that ratings and popularity are not an indicator of a real hero. Yes, we are talking about banal things, but saving the most unhappy and the happiest, the most diverse people, preventing a variety of problems, we came to the conclusion, that it is necessary to save qualitatively, not beautifully. Well, yes, of course, daddy's influence in us still remained. "The only super powers, that absolutely all people have, is creating new problems and putting everything and everything in danger. Well, we solve these very problems," and we smile innocently.

The triumphant return and getting to know the Seven again, a failed. We are already well aware of our daddy's affairs. And the rest of the supes, too. We wish we could never see their vile, corrupt faces... Well, in any case, we will not be angry at absolutely all the heroes, we have a specific goal.

We remember the Seven quite poorly, we didn't communicate with them much, when we were a child and a teenager. Well, it's clear why - dad's jealous nature. So, we don't see any global changes... Everyone is just as nasty, as before... Only thing, we don't remember this lady at all... Oh, Starlight joined when we were away, nice... "Well, it's very nice to meet you. Not bad, finally someone, more or less, close in age. You have a wonderful costume, Starlight." Well, at least she's nice and polite, and thanks for that...

Well, at least the ladies here aren't so bad, it seems... "Ladies and gentlemen, it was nice to see you all and, - we smiled at the blonde, - meet you. Have a nice day to you all. - We nodded towards the women, - ladies, - nodded to the men, - gentlemen, goodbye." We did not say goodbye to Homelander, who had been standing at the window, behind us all this time. "Gentlemen" is enough for him.

We tried to be very polite and nice to them. But this damned association between the Seven and Homelander... Okay, okay, fine, we're not a child anymore and we understand, that Homelander is not the whole Seven. Homelander is not all supes. Deep breath, look at the sky and calm dow.. Why is his... Not nice face staring at us, from every damn wall?

Yes, we understood, that we were rude and unfriendly with the leader of the heroes. No, we are not ashamed or afraid. No, we will not work with him in pairs!

Just fine... We yelled at Ashley, just like he yells at her... We need to apologize to her and find an exorcist, to expel this evil spirit from ourself...

And then, the day came, when a very beautiful lady, having learned about our whole situation with Homelander, told us, what an amazing confession he made to her once. About starting a family. About children. Oh, isn't that wonderful? So, all these rare: "well, it will sound very... Pathetic. But, Y/n, - dad hugged our cheeks with his palms, - you are a part of me. It doesn't matter, that we are not blood, you are my favorite and best, only one and precious child. - Papa gently kissed us on the forehead and hugged us tightly." "I love you, daddy..." "Happy birthday, baby. - And he touched his nose to ours. - I'm glad I have you..." Means nothing... Just wonderful...

Well, it was clearly not worth apologizing to Ashley... Not only, do we have the same task with him, so we also had to sleep in the same room with him..! "Oh, run, stupid woman, oh, run..."

The night was surprisingly cold. Usually we are not very sensitive to cold/not worry much about temperatures/quite sensitive to cold, but tonight we were frozen. We're chilled to the bone. And Homelander lay down next to us and hugged us, pressing tightly to him... And he also told us to shut up and get warm... And that's where the problem arises. We don't want to breathe the same air with him, but he's so warm... He's so warm, and... So cozy... So familiar... It feels, like none of this happened, and everything is fine. We're safe, with papa...

And last week such, well, an embarrassment happened... Well, in short, while we were pulling out this idiot, who arranged all this, from under the rubble, a large piece of concrete rolled down the column at us, with rebars sticking out of it... And we didn't see it, we tried to save this dumbass. And... Well... And, Homelander covered us with himself... Naturally, he was not injured, he is Homelander, after all, only a torn costume and a couple of minor wounds... But. But why? Why did he do it? And then, he turned to us... He looked at us, with his sad, bottomless eyes and...

Oh. Well, that makes sense then... Just look at how his ratings soared after that incident. Just wonderful...

I needed an empty head to read this one (why I couldn't read it so far, waiting a little) because after reading the first passage I understand that you are using a very interesting and wonderful writing style and again (yes again) I am saying that you should really be the one who write this one.

you are already have a map on your mind, every character's design and features, how scenes from series changed with y/n's presences, how she had an inner self that really complex. I loved every detail from the first message to this one and I see how your ideas on the story grew well and strong as a whole. so, again, I am asking you to write this magnificent pieces as a story on your own or we definitely can collaborate. I really want you to the writer of this one and me as an assistance or helper.

think about this and thanks for making the story more and more interesting and permanent in my mind. I really want to read it from you, or well write it down it you want me to again. but I hope you will be the one because I loved the way you express your ideas into words. ♥️

[corvicarum]

@couturiere asked:

"Happy birthday...!" Gwen's exclamation is followed by a swift kiss to each cheek, the large flat box in her hands presented without fanfare. Atop it is also a smaller bag, and her mouth twitches in amusement as her eyes flick to it. "I figured since I wouldn't be able to give it to you the day of, early was fine. It seems to be a running theme with us anyway." Inside the box are what are very clearly limited edition Pentakill vinyls- one of each of their albums. Did she call in a favor for them? Perhaps. but who besides Kayn could appreciate printing 666 of each one as they deserved?

Then there's the bag, which Gwen keeps glancing at until he peeks inside- where he'll find a thick, pyramid-studded, plum-colored collar.

"I thought it would match your hair better," she laughs, nose crinkling as she giggles. "You don't really have to wear it though- it was mostly a joke." Her arm hooks through his, smile lopsided as she looks up at him. "Now, shall we test out how loudly those records can play?"

he was fairly sure he told her it was the 31st...today was the 29th but still-

" 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐘. "

it didn't matter now. she was here, she had gifts, and kayn can't help the bounce in his step. a frequency, whenever she came to visit anymore. he liked her so much, but didn't introspect too deeply on it just yet. lessons learned; last time it'd ended a real bad away. and he didn't need more drama.

the kisse to each cheek snaps him to the moment. a box set in his hands. right, yes birthday gifts ( 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ). of course he checks the box first. and if kayn wasn't excited before-- he was now. eyes light up, his mouth split in a wide smile. he felt like it was christmas. he carefully looks through the contents, barely able to contain his excitement. he isn't gonna bother asking how she got them, he already knows who her dad is. " thanks peach- god damn i dont even wanna know how much these would cost on the market. i. love. them. "

then to the bag.

as soon as he pulls it out, he can hear rhaast laughing in the background. it matched perfectly, and when he tilted it a particular way-- it's tint changed slightly. similar to the two tones of his own hair. and as soon as gwen leans closer, looping her arm into his own, he laughs. tilting his head down to bump his cheek against her head. holding the collar up to admire it more. " oh dont worry i'm gonna wear it. " giving her a little tug. he's feeling impatient. " i wanna test both my gifts~ "

unprompted