#you know maybe i would like to be angry about that and (figuratively) poke and push another person

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Reading Alice oseman's "Loveless" and sitting here like, wow I wish I could argue with someone, tell them to their face that I'm angry and they fucked up, and then feel justified in my actions moving forward

[fuctacles]

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Eddie was lowkey disgusted by how his uncle would talk about one of his neighbors. No, he doesn't think it's bad for old people to fall in love or have crushes. But it's weird to know these things about his own uncle. 

And it's also sad to watch, because it's been months of Stephanie this, Stephanie that, and nothing came of it, so he felt safe to assume the infatuation was one-sided. So when he tells his uncle he can't go feed her cats that week, he figures it's for the best. And not only because of Wayne's twisted ankle. To his surprise though, he doesn't seem fazed; he just waves his hand and says:

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No climbing the stairs with this thing." He pokes the cast with his crutch. "I've already volunteered you anyway."

Eddie raises his eyebrows because he surely misheard that.

"You did what now?"

"Told Stephanie I'll send you to feed her cats," Wayne says, confirming his fears.

"Why?! She has so many other neighbors!" Eddie points out, gesturing vigorously around the room, implying but meaning the flats surrounding them. 

Wayne clicks his tongue at him.

"Would you let in just any of your neighbors into your home? She already trusts me, and I'm vouching for you."

Eddie gapes at him, hating that he's making a valid point. Damned be his old man and his reasonable thinking. He crosses his arms because while it makes sense, it doesn't mean Eddie can't be angry about it. 

"When?"

"She's visiting her friend this weekend so she asked for Saturday evening and Sunday morning. And stay with them for a while if possible, so they don't go crazy. Ah, and the plant in the kitchen needs watering."

"Great," Eddie grits through his teeth. He's so delighted at the prospect of spending time with some old lady's cats. The whole place probably stinks of cat piss and he'll definitely kill the plant as soon as he touches it. (It was his only superpower, which is not what he aimed for when his five-year-old had been praying, thanks for nothing, Jesus.) He just hopes he won't have to meet her. Hearing some old hag complain about his clothes, hair, and general adolescence was the last thing he wanted on his weekend off. But, alas...

"She asked you to come over tomorrow so she can show you where everything is."

Eddie groans. 

------

It's a Friday afternoon, he's at his uncle's taking a break from college and work. He should be sharing a beer with the old man, complaining about the coursework, the professors, and other students, not picking him up from the hospital, and running errands while his foot is in a cast. And certainly not meeting up with old stinky spinsters. 

To add insult to injury, Miss Stephanie, (which, by the way, is such a typical old hag name) lives two floors higher and the elevator is perpetually broken. Not too high, but high enough for Eddie's anemic lungs to start collapsing. 

He stops around the corner to steady his breath, because regardless of his overall attitude, he didn't want to worsen the first impression. He already refused to 'dress like a decent man' and didn't want to wheeze into the lady's face on top of it. 

Once his lungs are functioning properly again, he walks into the hallway, looking for number 54 as Wayne instructed. He knocks on the door, hoping he didn't mess it up and is at the right place. What if it was 45?

It must have been because he was told Stephanie Harrington lives alone. 

"Uh, sorry, I must have—"

"Are you Eddie?" The woman who opened the door takes him in. At her feet, a tabby cat peers curiously at the new human.

"Uh, yeah? I'm looking for Miss Stephanie?" he offers awkwardly. Maybe that's the friend? Or a sister?

But the woman extends her hand and smiles brightly.

"That would be me, but please call me Steph. I wish I could drill that into Wayne's thick skull." She rolls her eyes fondly.

Her big, gorgeous eyes, framed by thick lashes. She's not an old hag, she could be in her forties at best. She's tall and curvy and her hair looks straight out of a shampoo commercial. She's gorgeous. Eddie shakes her hand in a daze.

"Hi," he croaks as he's ushered inside. 

"Come in, come in! I've heard so much about you, it's great to finally see you in person. I must say," she turns around and gives him a quick once-over. "Wayne's stories didn't do you justice."

Did she just check him out?

Eddie clears his throat, suddenly dry like his elbows during winter.

"Uh, same to you."

"Yeah?" She puts her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "What does he say about me?"

"Good things only," Eddie assures her. 

"So you're saying I'm a bitch." She squints at him.

"No!" His eyes widen. "What?!" 

"Well, if he's saying only good things about me, and you say they don't describe me right..." 

Eddie gets the point she's making and quickly shakes his head.

"No, he just made you sound like a crazy old cat lady, and you're..." He waves his hand uselessly. "Not that."

She sighs softly, shoulders sagging a little. It would be easy to miss but Eddie's senses are heightened after his fuck up.

"I kinda am, though," she says with a shrug. 

Eddie feels the need to reassure her somehow.

"Well, you're not eighty and your place doesn't smell like cat litter, I think you're fine."

She barks a laugh, it's low and surprised and Eddie's cheeks are red because he's just digging further into the hole he's in, isn't he?

"Good to know the bar is so low."

Eddie groans, tired of doing damage control that's not controlling anything.

"I'm gonna shut up now."

"Please don't." Steph smiles wide and teasingly. "You're a funny one. Just like your uncle told me."

Eddie scoffs. He's going to have a word or two with the old man once he's back.

"Great, this is exactly the impression I was hoping to make."

At his words, the woman eyes him up and down again, and he can feel his cheeks heating up.

"Yeah? Not as the local punk satanist?" she teases, making Eddie bristle.

"Metalhead," he corrects instinctively and immediately winces.

"Ah, my bad. I'm not good at the subcultures thing." She smiles apologetically but it doesn't read well with how clearly amused she is. "Anyway, here's the plant I want you to water tomorrow evening. Just like, half a glass."

Right. Plants. Cats. He came here on a mission.

"Come on, I'll show you my cats."

There's only three of them and they come rushing from all corners of the flat at the rustle of a catnip bag. Eddie never saw high cats so he's glad to have this opportunity now. Stephanie points to the tabby he saw earlier.

"This is Dart, she's not actually mine, but my friend couldn't keep her at the dorms. This is Garfield," she points to the orange cat, making Eddie huff a laugh. She grins. "Yeah, don't tell anyone, but he's my favorite," she whispers, to which Eddie mimics zipping his mouth shut. 

Lastly, she points to the black cat rolling on the carpet. 

"And this is Arwen."

Eddie frowns.

"Like, The Lord of the Rings Arwen?"

"Yeah," Steph sighs. "Dustin named her. He's the friend I've mentioned. Dart is short for D'Artagnan and I've fought teeth and nail for Garfield not to be called Pippin."

"Pippin is a great name, though," Eddie points out.

"Maybe," she huffs, crossing her arms. "But I wanted one for myself, okay? Not everything has to be about Dustin."

"Is Dustin like, your brother or something?" 

"Kinda?" She frowns. "We're not actually related but I babysat him, and then we became friends. He just stuck around, somehow." The words sound angry but her face betrays the fondness she has for her friends. 

"That's nice," he offers. "I'm an only child, never met any cousins, and only ever had friends my age."

"Well, good for you. Maybe if I had friends my age I wouldn't be living alone with a bunch of cats."

Eddie frowns. 

"Hey, now..."

She cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. 

"I'll show you where the food is." 

Eddie's in a daze when he comes back downstairs, only realizing his visit ended when he's standing in his uncle's living room. He's been gone for only half an hour but it feels longer. 

"How did it go?" his uncle asks, pulling him out of his reverie. 

Edie turns to him and blinks, fighting the cotton around his brain.

"Fine?" he offers. "She's not as old as I expected," he admits bluntly. His uncle snorts.

"What, just because she lives alone with her cats you assumed she's on her deathbed?"

Eddie winces. It's exactly what he did.

"Well, the people in her life weren't kind to her, so now she relies on her pets. Nothing wrong with that." Wayne shrugs. 

"What do you mean?" Eddie frowns, curious. Concerned. He goes to the kitchen, not wanting to seem too eager to get an answer, and grabs a beer for himself and his uncle. He opens the junk drawer to find an opener and hears his uncle answer from the adjacent living room space. 

"She doesn't say much about it and I never asked, but she's always alone on the holidays. Her friends visit a few days before or after."

Eddie walks back in and hands his uncle the opened bottle. 

"Thanks, son."

He nods and settles heavily in an armchair. Focusing his gaze on the label peeling off of his beer, he hums thoughtfully.

"No family?"

"Seems so." Wayne nods solemnly. "I think it was a conflict of lifestyle choices, but I'll be honest, I'm basing it off of rumors and my own assumptions." He scratches his cheek, frowning at the wall. "It's not my place to pry, though I offered to hear her out if she ever felt like needing an ear." He sighs. "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor. Invited her for dinner over Thanksgiving, when you couldn't come. I was surprised she's into basketball," he muses. 

Eddie was seeking answers and now was even more confused.

"You invited Miss Stephanie. For a dinner?" He raised his eyebrows. 

"Yes. She was alone, I was alone, figured I could at least ask. I'm still surprised she agreed. She declined all my other offers."

"Wow." A teasing smile creeps on his lips against his will. "You've been inviting a lot of women since I moved out?"

"Listen," Wayne takes on his stern voice and it takes all of Eddie's willpower not to cackle. He can see his uncle's mustache twitch. "Stephanie is a lovely lady, but she's way too young for an old man like me. And this old man is too old for romance anyway. Besides—" he cuts himself off like he realized he was saying too much. Which, of course, piques Eddie's curiosity. 

"Besides?"

Wayne shrugs.

"I don't think I'd ever be ready for someone like her."

Eddie makes a confused face. 

"The fuck does that mean?" he asks, irritated. 

"Rumors and speculations, son."

[bloodiedrogue]

BLEED YOU DRY (1)

SUMMARY: When you awake to find Astarion attempting to drink your blood, you find yourself making a interesting decision.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 3,273

WARNINGS: Bloodsucking, that's about it?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I'm aware I'm way ahead of schedule for this Haunted Hoedown thing but I'm going to be gone for a few days in the middle of it so I figured I'd get a headstart now to make sure I get every day done but also to build the hype? Maybe?

Basically this is going to be a little twelve part miniseries based on prompts from this writing challenge. I'll make a masterpost either tonight or tomorrow with all the ones I chose, plus some other stuff, so you guys know what's going on!

The prompt for this particular day was "I want to watch you bleed."

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

The squirming tadpole behind your eye is what wakes you up. Its constant movement, wriggling from edge to edge quickly prompts you to groan and palm your eye, attempting to suppress the feeling as you blink through the darkness. It takes a moment to adjust —to feel that twitch of the creature die down— and when it does there’s a sigh of satisfaction that leaves your lips.

Despite how long it’s been, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the fact that you have a parasite living inside your mind. Even after experiencing the insertion firsthand, you often forget it’s there, looming behind your retinas, awaiting use every time you run into another. Normally it’s so still, barely inching out of place; sitting there, incubating within your thoughts. Tonight though, something’s urging its presence. Keeping it awake as you close your eyes again, scrunching up your face once it moves a second time.

Angrily, you sit up and turn your head, suddenly catching Astarion’s gaze, noticing the open-mouthed grin he offers in response. 

“Shit.”

You narrow your eyes, focusing on his teeth. How bared they are; ready to strike at a moment's notice despite the only food lying around being you. “Were you just about to bite me?” you ask and almost immediately he attempts to play it off as if it were nothing, scoffing and rolling his eyes. 

“I wasn’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I was only going for a nibble.” 

You can feel your tadpole squirm. He’s telling the truth, albeit for reasons that are more selfish than he lets on. Despite seeming otherwise, he only wants to drink from you for strength —for energy. His desire to kill you is minuscule, lingering in the shadows of his mind for a potentially later day but surprisingly such notions don’t scare you. Astarion may be a bloodthirsty creature but for now, he’s an ally.

“And you didn’t think to just ask first?” You raise a brow at him, watching his expression twist into something bordering between confusion and interest. 

“I’m sorry, just ask?” he parrots, exploring your features and how they remain calm despite the context.  

He was expecting you to be angry. To throw some kind of fit and deny. It’s what any normal person would do, but considering the circumstances, offering up a little blood to build up the strength of someone on the same side is worth more than the annoyance that forms across your face. 

“Yes, like a normal person,” you chastise, taking in the scowl he offers in response. 

His brows furrow at the sound of your words, angling upwards to appear as sinister as possible, and you can’t help but snort. Something about his constant disapproval is almost humorous at this point.

“Normal? Darling, I’m a creature of the night. A blood sucking fiend. A—“

“Vampire, yes, we’re all well aware given the teeth.” You poke at your own canine, tapping the enamel with open lips just as he swallows hard and narrows his eyes. 

“Yes, well, obviously considering such details I thought it inappropriate to ask. People don’t typically agree to such perilous sounding terms,” he says, voice light and airy. Casual, you might say, despite the context. 

“So instead you were just going to go for it?” You raise your brow, a smirk playing across your lips as he rolls his eyes. 

“Seemed like the best possible option… at the time.” 

You offer him a quiet ah, nodding your head as the two of you remain still, watching each other. Trying to gauge how the other is feeling without the use of your tadpoles. 

Based on what you know about Astarion you assume he’s too stubborn to ask. Now that he’s caught, regardless of whether or not he needs the blood, he’ll never find himself in a position to be desperate enough to say those simple little words. Being a man of persuasion, he’ll most likely just talk his way into it —make it seem like the whole thing was your idea in the first place before diving right in. 

It’d be respectable if you weren’t the victim. If it were Wyll or Gale and you were to bear witness to his deceptions, you’d fully support it. Encourage it even if he were to ask your opinion.

Since it’s you though, you can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. Astarion and you have never been particularly friendly. Having only been around each other for a few weeks, all you’ve talked about is the Illithid and how you plan to get rid of it —what you’ll do after it’s gone. But even the latter conversations hardly spark specific details. Mostly they’re just brief mentions of wanting to run away. To become hidden after the war is over. 

You assume someone’s looking for him based on the way he speaks and carries himself. When you’re on the move he hides within the pack, using you all as a shield while he looks around. Always on high alert, his ears twitch at any foreign sound, his eyes dart to meet the faces of anyone you may come across. At night, he’s always the one to keep watch and over time you’ve come to realize it isn’t just because he doesn’t sleep. It’s because he’s looking for someone. 

Even now, as he stands above you, you can see his eyes looking past you to focus on the underbrush. The way they narrow with focus, pushing past your face. He can sense something that you can’t —feel the eyes of some foreign presence staring at the two of you. 

You’re tempted to use the tadpole to find out what exactly it is but quickly refrain once you hear the shuffling of branches behind you followed by Astarion’s breath of relief. 

“You alright?”

His eyes shut for a split second. His chest heaves a single breath and in that moment you’re struck with an odd sense of sympathy. The feeling of pity laces throughout your thoughts as you imagine Astarion’s life before all of this. You imagine it isn’t great. Considering he’s a vampire, there’s probably at least an inkling of trauma there after living, dying and coming back as something other than yourself. No sane person would be the same after that, especially when taking into account all the symptoms. Before his transition, he could do mundane things. Enjoy the pleasantries of life like the sun and sleeping and food. 

Nowadays, all it seems he craves is blood and power. Flesh of whatever he can get his greedy little hands on. The upper hand in any possible argument. Both make what Astarion is on the surface, but looking at him now, wondering what else lies behind that thick, defensive coat of first impressions, you know there are other things. Nicer ones he refuses to showcase. 

They’re the details of his life before everything. Traits reserved only for himself, and for some uncharacteristic reason, you’re tempted to find out what they are. 

“If you need to…” Trailing off, you feel your stomach twist at the realization of what you’re about to offer. The consequences are high, maybe even too high, but perhaps the benefits could be deemed higher. At this point, you’re certain no one else will give him what he needs. They’re all too noble or guarded to allow Astarion, regardless of his current allegiance, to drink. 

They don’t trust him. And even though you find yourself in the same boat, feeling the skepticism of your words start to echo in the back of your mind, you know it’s the most logical thing to do. Sure, it may not be the right one. By a long shot, it’s probably one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had, but you know deep down that it’s necessary for your survival. To ensure that, when all this blows over and the potential of you going your separate ways occurs, Astarion doesn’t view you as an enemy.

“If you need to drink, you can.” 

His eyes widen only a bit. Just enough for you to notice the slight shock that spreads across his features. “I can?” 

There’s a reluctance you feel begin to bubble up but instead of acting on it you merely shut it down, nodding your head. “Yes, but only a little. Don’t want you bleeding me dry before this whole thing is all over.” 

Somehow that makes him laugh. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” 

You force yourself not to smirk as he lies through his teeth. Knowing him, he’d suck you dry if it weren’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers. “Unfortunately for me this isn’t a dream.” 

“Fair point,” he replies, taking a short step forward. After that he slowly begins to crouch towards the ground, watching you closely —focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as his face falls mere inches from yours. “For now though, I promise to do no such thing.”

“And you’re certain you’ll keep it?”  

He hums, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “For now,” he muses. “In the future though…”

He’s so close you can feel his breath. Hot and heavy puffs pushed through a low, far too sultry tone of voice that has you pressing your lips together in a thin line. 

Out of everyone, Astarion’s always been the most intriguing. The one you’ve had this constant back and forth with, debating whether or not to approach or run. Aside from the obvious vampirism, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t like the others. From what you’ve been able to piece together, he doesn’t have a cause. A God or some sort of leader he’s willing to lay down the law for. He’s not noble like Wyll or faithful like Shadowheart. He’s just Astarion. A bloodied wolf all by his lonesome, following the rest of the pack. 

You’re sure he has desires like the rest of them. Wants and needs that’ll inevitably be gifted to him at the end of this —so long as you all survive. Like everyone else, he has a purpose in mind, but what that purpose is is unbeknownst to you thanks to the charm he offers in replacement of the truth. Because of this, he feels almost like a treasure chest. A trove of untold riches kneeling before you, tempting you to open. 

“I’m sure the future will have us far enough away from each other where that doesn’t happen, so I won’t worry.” 

Almost immediately, he can tell you’re fishing for information. The way his brow slightly upturns and the flirtatious grin across his face transitions into more of a smirk. It makes you internally curse, knowing that no matter how hard you try you’ll never beat him at his own game. His way with words is too precise. Too calculated, even for someone like you who grew up convincing people of your lies. 

“You never know. Perhaps after this is all over I’ll follow you. Linger amongst the shadows until the time is right.” 

You can’t tell if he’s kidding. His voice is too convincing to be completely certain, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yes, well, if you do decide to drink me to death, be sure to make it quick.” 

He clicks his tongue, leaning slightly further in. “What would be the fun in that though?”

There’s an unfamiliar ache inside your chest. A rupture of pain that wreaks havoc against your ribcage, pounding. Now that he’s close to you, you can assume it’s always been there but because he’s so good at posing a distraction you weren’t fully aware of it until now. 

“Fair point,” you repeat his words back to him, deeply inhaling just as the tadpole suddenly shifts in tandem with your chest. Ebbing and flowing across your inner eye in time with your shaky breath, you notice Astarion pick up on it, humming knowingly. 

“You fear me, don’t you?” 

Despite the answer being blatantly obvious, your lips remained sealed. Closed off, regardless of the truths the rest of your body spills. 

“It’s quite alright, darling. It’s normal. Creatures of the night are hardly meant to be trifled with.” 

He’s in your face now, a mere hair’s length away, once again baring his teeth. Against your lips, you can feel the movement of his words pushing through the air, coating you in further reluctance as the withheld breath inside you finally releases. As it hits his face, he blinks and pulls away. Ever so slightly giving you the space you need to recollect your thoughts and swallow back the fear. 

He’s terrifying. Even you have to admit that. Unlike Lae’zel he’s more calculated in his intimidation, opting to pull you in —to make you feel comfortable— before he ultimately strikes. Because of this, his threats feel more authentic. Less like simple tactics used to get you to back off. They aren’t words of warning —they’re promises. Declarations of a moment he’s more than willing to make a reality if given the chance.

“Do you want my blood or not, Astarion?”

Your patience is thin. Your chest is in pain and while the tadpole inside unwittingly reaches out to his, driving you both closer as he instructs you to lie back down and get comfortable, all you can feel is temptation. Desire. 

Upon resting your head, you feel the connection between you grow stronger. Inside, your head flashes with icy sensations that trickle down towards your neck. Small tremors of what’s to come as Astarion positions himself around you. 

When he leans down, there’s a moment where you think of retracting. This is all too sudden, you think. A mistake made in hopes of gaining the upper hand. Just moments ago you were made unaware of the full potential of Astarion’s charms, but now that you’re lying beneath him, awaiting the moment he sinks his teeth into your flesh, you can feel the regret begin to build.

“It won’t last.”

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you look to see him staring over top of you. Both of his arms are planted on either side of your head, bending at the elbow so that he’s low and close. “I’m sorry?”

“The pain. It won’t last long, I promise.”

Strangely enough, he sounds sincere. Not that that means much when a good portion of the words that exit his lips are lies. Still though, instead of returning to that previous headspace you merely breathe and nod, waiting for the moment the tadpole’s connection vibrates with confirmation and Astarion begins to lean in. 

It’s a slow process. Above you, his shoulders shift, pushing his arm to cup the back of your head and expose your neck. Against your skull, Astarion tightens his grip to steady the endless thoughts that race through your mind as you share a glance. It’s small but important. A moment of recognition that tonight is not the night you die at his hand, but merely a preview of what might come if your paths wrongfully cross. 

At the last second, you give him a curt nod and feel him dip, running the tip of his tongue along your jugular before the presence of teeth poke holes through your flesh. At first, it's painful. The blood that’s sucked through your veins pulsates through the open wound in stinging waves as you feign a soft groan. Then Astarion’s grip around your head tightens at the sound, pushing you further into his mouth. Further into the euphoria he takes as the feeling transcends into something numbingly cold. 

Your eyes flutter shut at his continued feed. The feeling in your hands begins to fade even as you somehow find them moving to Astarion’s back, one of them pressing against his shoulder, the other finding purchase in his locks. At that point, you can feel Astarion moan against you, desperation filling his every cell as his teeth shift further into your neck, prompting your eyes to shoot open. 

He’s going to kill you at this rate. To drink you drier than an insect's husk, so, through half-conscious pushes, you tell him to stop. To let go and to keep his promise as you grip the roots of his hair and pull. 

As it happens you see his eyes shift to yours. They’re blown out completely, the whites of his eyes stained red to match his ruby pupils. For a moment, they remain locked to your half-lidded ones, honing in on the way they start to flutter again before you see them tightly close. Then he finds himself ripping away and gasping for air. Coughing through the thick blood that coats his tongue as he stares down at your neck.

The wound is only slightly gaping. Two well-defined puncture wounds sit side by side, but at the moment you can’t feel them. Instead, there’s still only numbness. A space of nothing that lingers between your head and chest, making you shift to sit up and place your hand there, finding more blood. 

“See? Over before you know it, right?” He laughs but all you do is glare. 

“You almost killed me.”

“Ah, yes, but notice the key word being almost.” 

If you weren’t so heavy-headed you’d punch him in the throat. Maybe strangle him if you could get the right angle. “Yes, fine, you’ve had your fun. Now, do you need anything else or am I fine to pass out now?” 

You expect him to say something else. To make some quip about the safety measures of post-bloodsucking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he merely inches closer, staring at you as he reaches for your bloodied hand and pulls it close. 

Once again, your tadpole wriggles against your will. Throughout your skull, it practically dances as Astarion glances down, taking two of your fingers into his mouth with careful precision. If anyone were to see they’d most likely faint at the mere lewdness of it. Frozen in time, your body refuses to move as he laps the blood off your skin, staring at you through hooded eyes that make you want to scream.

You’ve never been in this kind of position before. Sure, you’ve experienced many kinds of intimacy, both sexual and not, but somehow this feels different. Forbidden, in a sense. As if sharing this moment is not only wrong but also against some sort of ethical code. 

At first, you wonder if it’s because blood isn’t necessarily something that’s given. Always taken. In battle, it’s ripped from your skin through the means of injury. Punctured or sliced out of you at the hands of a sword. No bond goes along with it. No mutual agreement that any life will remain once the deed is over. 

But then you begin to think of Astarion. The elven vampire now infected with the Illithid. Like you, he’s been changed. Subtly shifted into something new. Overall, your transformation isn’t nearly as different as his. Before the infection, you could still enjoy the pleasantries of being human, but still, there’s this connection that draws you towards him. It makes its presence known within the tadpole. Throughout the movements that echo in your minds as Astarion cleans the last of the blood away, looking at you with soft eyes.

“I consider this a gift, you know,” he says, dropping your hand, and moving away to stand without so much as a thought. 

You blink back your confusion, trying your best to focus on the genuine-looking smile that appears as he takes a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact until he telepathically adds I won’t forget it then stalks away. 

[hom3landr]

So, I have an honest question. Homelander is used to his bday being a huge deal, but what if the person he is interested in doesn't care about their own bday?

Like he has known them for a year, and they never celebrated their own bday nor ever hinted at it. How do you think he'd react?

Birthday Blues

Homelander x Gender Neutral Reader

Homelander hates when you keep secrets from him. But what’s merely a harmless fact to you pokes a sore spot that you never expected.

You hear him before you see him, eyebrow raising at the angry stomp of his footsteps. You’re finishing up the chapter of the book you’re reading and you hope he doesn’t have beef with you because then who knows when you’ll get back to it. You read as fast as you can, words almost blurring as you hastily scan the page. But alas, before you reach the last sentence, your book is cruelly ripped from you.

Homelander stands over your place on the couch, one hand perched on his hip while the other points your book at you as a replacement for his “oh so imposing” finger that he loves to wave at you. His brow is knitted and there’s no doubt that whatever has his feathers ruffled has something to do with you. You lean back and sigh, contemplating how long you should let him ramble before attempting to calm him down. He’s cute when he’s angry. You can live with a lecture when he looks so good doing it. Although you’re hardly feeling charitable at the moment due to him snatching your book like some kind of barbarian.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday?!” He hisses at you, dropping your book with a thump as he places both hands jauntily on his hips. His jaw clenches as he waits for your answer.

You freeze.

Huh?

You don’t know what you expected but it certainly isn’t that. You had expected him to be fussy about you grabbing a drink with Starlight the other night or helping Ashley with some insane task he gave so he could watch her squirm. You missed a call from him earlier, that tends to set him off. You’d even believe he was feeling sensitive about you waking up before him and grabbing a coffee instead of a good morning kiss. Any of those would be easy to assume. But no, he’s apparently worked up that you didn’t tell him your birthday.

You figured Homelander isn’t a fan of birthdays. He certainly seems cynical about his own. He hasn’t told you the whole story but when he grits his teeth at his birthday obligations instead of basking in the cheers of the crowd, you can easily make the assumption that it’s a sore subject. You don’t have any hang ups about your own birthday but it just never seemed like a big deal to you. It’s just a day. Perhaps too many sneak attacks from the singing staff at restaurants traumatized you. Maybe it’s because birthday cake is always too sickly sweet. Or possibly you just don’t feel like celebrating the passage of time. You never tell people and people rarely ask.

Yet, you can tell by the petulant twist of his mouth that he’s not just angry but hurt that you didn’t share it with him.

“I’m…sorry. I just don’t really think about it that much.” You reply with a confused shrug. His mouth twitches and you know he’s not satisfied with that answer. He’s taking this awfully personally and you can’t for the life of you figure out why. It’s just a day.

“Are you trying to fuck with me? So next time we argue you can bring up what a horrible boyfriend I am for ignoring your birthday! You gonna gossip about it over cocktails with fucking Starlight?” He spits out her name like a curse. You want to roll your eyes but you don’t fancy Homelander flying you to the top of a skyscraper and leaving you there like the last time you tried that. You sigh and reach out to take his hand. He jerks it away petulantly for a moment but when you reach for it again he allows your touch.

“That would make me a pretty shitty partner. I’m not trying to play games with you. I’ve just never really had strong feelings about my birthday. That’s all. I promise.” You squeeze his hand and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, enjoying the feel of the buttery soft leather of his glove. He pouts.

“I’m not a bad boyfriend.” He huffs. You gently tug his hand and guide him until he’s laying on the couch with his head in your lap. It only takes a few strokes of his hair before he deflates like a balloon. He turns to snuggle his face into your chest.

“I’m not.” He sighs into your shirt. You shush him gently.

“You’re my good boy. I know you wouldn’t forget on purpose. You take such good care of me. But why do you care so much about my birthday?” You switch from stroking his hair to rubbing soothing circles on his back. He’s easily mollified today and it further confirms your suspicions that his feelings were deeply wounded. He desperately needs reassurance when that happens. It’s sweet.

“Did you know that my birthday is fake? Corporate decided on it. I don’t even have one since I was…” He trails off and your heart squeezes painfully. He’s cagey about his past but every so often new details will slip out and it horrifies you every time. You continue to sooth him even as your stomach twists unpleasantly. “But you do have one and you don’t even care! Do you know how fucking spoiled you are?”

You ignore the jab although your hackles rise. Poking his ego now would prove disastrous. So you swallow your pride and continue to let him vent.

“I don’t want you keeping things like that from me. You’re mine and I deserve to know things about you. How can I trust you when you won’t even tell me your fucking birthday.” He huffs and you can feel him stiffen up as he works himself back up into an angry spiral. He nips at your stomach hard enough to bruise and you tug on his hair harshly as a reprimand.

“This isn’t me intentionally keeping some secret from you. I don’t tell anybody.” You pause briefly as an idea hits you. “But…maybe it’s your birthday today too.” You answer and he pulls himself away to fix you with a bemused glare. His brow twitches as he processes what you said

“I mean, if you don’t know the actual day. Then technically every day can be your birthday. It’s like Schrodinger's Cat. Screw corporate, pick your own birthday.” You give his shoulder a little shake and your heart lifts when the corner of his mouth tilts into a little smile.

“It’s my birthday today too then. Now you have to celebrate.” He gives you a smug grin and you ruffle his hair fondly. The hurt still lingers. This is a mere bandage over the leaking wound you know still remains. But if you can ease his burden even a little, you’re happy to do so. Even if it means making a big deal out of your birthday.

“The mighty Homelander sharing the spotlight with a humble human like me? It’s pretty scandalous.” You tease and he turns his head to kiss the sore spot where he bit you. He nuzzles into you one last time before sitting up. He leans in to rub his nose against yours, desperately seeking intimacy in such a vulnerable moment.

“No spotlight,” He whispers. “Just you and me.”

You smile and pull him into a chaste kiss. He whines at the brevity of it and you place another cheeky kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Just you and me.”

He grins and his eyes fill with mischief as he meets your gaze.

“That means it’s time for your birthday spankings” He reaches out to swat you when you bolt with a wild laugh, careening and slipping around his apartment in your socks as he gives chase. You realize as you shriek at his games that maybe birthdays aren’t so bad after all…at least as long as no one sings to you.

[voonroo]

I have an idea! Only do it if you feel comfortable though 🙌🏻 no pressure

Teen reader with Alastor who have this father-daughter bond. Teen reader has never really 'acted out' in a sense. At least not in ways expected of in a sinner. Always had manners, polite, and reserved, yet was always open and honest with Alastor.

Now imagine reader out on the town doing some errands and they overhear a demon talking some nasty crap about Alastor. For the first time, they let their anger get the better of them and get into a fight with the demon. Not without a few cuts and bruises though, poor thing.

Reader not wanting Alastor to get angry or disappointed at them decide that it's best that just this one, they won't mention anything. They'll not tell him this one thing. It won't hurt. He won't know!

Yet it's Alastor. And he always knows. Mainly because they're reading sunglasses inside and trying (failing) to cover up a limp.

Are Ya Winning Child?

⌐‣Alastor & Teen Reader

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: KSNAKXNSM I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS I AM LIVING FOR THESE REQUESTS. I ACTUALLY HAD TO TAKE BREAKS WRITING THIS TO BREATHE. I WAS GENUINELY TWEAKING LIKE ALASTOR WAS THIS LAST EPISODE WRITING THIS.

Alastor & Teen Reader

You had always been one to hold your tongue and watch your actions. To not act out on rashness. That's how you had always been, even before ending up in hell. You had always been known for your good manners, even as a kid and it's only become more solidified in your character as you grew.

Then why was it so hard to not beat the living shit out of the demon in front of you.

There's no way they didn't know you were connected with the infamous radio demon in some way. Maybe they had seen you and him out and about here recently and knew you two had a connection. People are more courageous than ever to question Alastor’s authority since his 7-year absence.

Maybe the demon is just trying to get a rise out of you. Sinners, who were once people, tend to poke and prod at what they don't understand. “How could some random teenage sinner be so close to the radio demon? Maybe they have a deal? The poor soul probably got tricked…” You've heard it all by now.

But, every time someone said something would be in hushed whispers that were easy to ignore. However, it can be quite hard to ignore some random drunkard spouting lies from his lips. And straight to your face too.

“He’s probably got your ass on a leash doesn't he?” and “Oh! If he's so powerful—” There were a few loud noises, maybe a scream or two.

What…? Oh shit.

The walk back to the hotel was not fun. You really should have just ignored him. Silencing him was not worth the pain you had in your leg and the ache you felt. You're pretty sure you got a black eye too.

By the time you arrive, you have adorned sunglasses on your face come up with an idea as to why you have them, and practiced how to hide your limp until you at least got up the stairs.

By telling those who questioned your weird behavior, “Oh someone was giving out free sunglasses they didn't want anymore so I took one.” and walking past your sorry excuse of trying to hide a limp, you finally made it to your room.

However, you didn't have peace for long until a familiar knock sounded at your door. Quickly throwing back on your sunglasses, you heard Alastor’s static voice through the door.

“I heard you arrived back from town just a few minutes ago!” Oh, he's definitely already on your trail…

You walked- well more so limped, over to the door. Signing in defeat before tossing the sunglasses on your bed.

Fuck it, he probably already knows.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with the radio demon himself. His eyes already shooting up and down your figure. From your leg to your black eye.

“May I come in?” It sounded like more of a command rather than a question. Without much thought, you opened the door wider before going back over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. Staring blankly ahead like a guilty child who got caught with their hand in a cookie jar. There's no point in trying to argue that you're fine when you know Alastor will just keep pestering you until you tell him.

Sitting down next to you, Alastor sat with you in silence for a moment. As if giving you the chance to speak up first, but when you didn't he let out a soft sigh before gently cupping your face, turning your head to look at him.

“What happened.” The average sinner would have been scared shitless at his tone, but you were only mildly frightened. However, there was definitely ill intent behind his smile. He knows you didn't just do this to yourself. You had to have a reason, you don't usually act out of line.

“I got into a fight.” His hand dropped from your face as you spoke, his smile growing wider before he let out a chuckle. His shoulders slightly shaking and his eyes closed in euphoria. His next words were clear when he spoke, looking you in the eyes.

“And did you win?”

“Yeah…?”

Another chuckle left his lips, though, it sounded more like a childish giggle. His hand raised again, landing on your head before ruffling your hair. A proud smile on his face.

“Good.”

Word Count: 735

[lovebugism]

“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish” with steve & punchy? <3

ty for requesting :D — steve makes a stupid joke and figures out what makes you tick (steve x punchy, hurt/comfort-ish, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

The argument started as a joke. And honestly, you kinda started it, so you have no reason to be as angry about it as you are now. You’re the one who said you hated Steve’s singing. It was only right he argued playfully back.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed as he climbed into bed beside you, freshly showered and smelling like your shampoo. “My singing is amazing.”

“Okay, Kermit the Frog,” you quipped, giggling.

“You know who’d like my singing?”

Your eyes narrow when he cuddles into your side. “Who?”

“Tammy Thompson,” he answered with a knowing smile.

He should’ve known he was playing with fire then.

“The girl who sounds like Miss Piggy?”

“Yeah,” Steve hummed, shrugged two freckled shoulders. “Maybe I should be dating her instead.”

You knew he was joking. Steve was a dumbass, but he wasn’t mean. He’d never say something like that with the intent to hurt you. He did anyway, though. His words take you by surprise, and you go silent. And that’s when Steve knows he’s said the wrong thing. Because his oh, so lovely loudmouth Punchy is never silent.

“I’m kidding!” he exclaims when you turn away from him. You cross your arms over your chest and shift softly on the mattress — playfully pouty in your way but meaning every bit of it. “Punchy. C’mon. You know I didn’t mean that.”

He reaches out for you and wraps a golden arm around your shoulder. You shrug, flinching away from him. “Don’t touch me,” you murmur, even though you don’t really mean it. ‘Cause, yeah, you’re a little upset, but you love when he coddles you.

You’re grateful when he only hugs you tighter.

“Why not?” he argues and leans in to kiss your cheek. His plush lips just barely graze your jaw before you duck away from him. He laughs loud in your ear, as golden as honey.

“It’s not funny. Steve! That wasn’t nice!”

“Don’t be like that, babe. It was just a stupid joke.”

You turn your chin to your shoulder to glare at him, just so he can see your unamused pout from head-on. He meets your glower with a grin and tries to peck you. You turn away before he can. “Go kiss Tammy Thompson.”

“Punchy…”

“Steve…” you say in the same low tone.

“If I wanted Tammy Thompson, I’d be with her.”

You know he’s trying to comfort you. He chose you because he wanted to be with you, and he didn’t choose Tammy because he didn’t want to be with Tammy. You know that’s what he means, but it sounds like King Steve is saying it.

“Oh, really?” you squint.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. She was obsessed with me. You know that. Hell, everyone knew that.”

“Why? ‘Cause everyone was obsessed with you, King Steve?”

He figures you must be calling him that to hit a nerve. He’d hurt your feelings (even though he truly hadn’t meant to), and now you want to hurt his back. And it might’ve worked if the way you said it didn’t turn him on.

He likes you all riled up like this, he quickly realizes. Now he just wants to keep poking at you, make you that tiny bit more mad. So, with a very smug smile on his pink lips, he answers. “Yeah… Kinda.”

His plan works.

“Okay, news flash, just because you’re pretty and you have nice hair doesn’t make you less of an asshole, alright?” you argue without taking a single breath. “Actually, for a long time, you were the biggest asshole I had ever met— and sixteen-year-old me would be gagging if she knew I was in your bed right now.”

“Yeah?” he eggs on, pressing his lips to your warm shoulder where the neck of your too-big sweatshirt had fallen.

“Yeah, actually! I mean, you were boorish and vapid and totally incorrigible—”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” he mumbles against you and continues pressing little kisses to your warming skin.

“—And the fact that Tammy Thompson, let alone anybody, could’ve been obsessed with someone like you back then is totally…” His lips find your pulse point then, wet and sanguine. The words get jumbled up in your head, and you forget how to say them out loud.

You feel Steve’s mouth curl into a smirk against your neck. He knows he’s got you in the palm of his hand now. “Is totally what?” he teases, muffled into your skin.

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” you murmur.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, but it’s hard to when he’s smiling so wide. His lips sprinkle up the length of your neck and over your jaw. He pulls away with a rosier, softly swollen mouth.

His smile is gentle and lopsided. “If I’d known that’s all it took to get you quiet, I would’ve done it forever a—”

You reach for him suddenly, splaying your palm over his mouth — pinky under his nose and thumb over his stubbly chin. Your eyes narrow. “Only finish that sentence if you have a death wish,” you mutter in a low, threatening tone. “Nod so I know you understand me.”

He nods into your hand.

“If you still want me to be your girlfriend tomorrow, only talk to tell me how much you love me and that you hate Tammy Thompson.”

You feel his smile widen beneath your palm. He nods again.

You pull your hand away. 

“Now kiss me.”

The fucker takes the breath from your lungs.

[baelabong]

𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

Pairing: Karina x fem!reader

Warnings: slight mention of g!p aespa, y/n is manipulative, she’s an asshole, mentions of cheating

Note: I got inspo from this tiktok video of like the “casual” trend. I cant find it anymore but if you can find it, pls tell me!!

Next

Staring at the raven haired girl in front of you. Her eyes wide in shock as you hold up her cellphone.

The wind and snow outside the apartment banged on the windows, lifting the hairs on the back of Karina’s hair to stand up.

“I’m gonna ask you this once, Jimin. Did you or did you not cheat on me,” Y/N demanded for an answer.

The taller girls lips quivered. tears welling up. Head hung down to the floor unable to look at y/n staring right into her own. The girl looked pathetic and while y/n already knew the answer, she felt gloated in shaming Jimin.

“I- I’m so sorry my love … I thought that spending one night with Yeji would help me forget the fact you’re ch-cheating on me…,” Karina muttered, lips still shaking

You shake your head in disbelief, tongue poking the sides of your cheek. Sure you weren’t the best girlfriend in the world, but that doesn’t mean Jimin was either. It didn’t help with the fact that multiple male and female idols continually came your way in attempt to charm you.

When initiating intimacy with the older girl, she often dodged you too, always creating excuses as to not let you touch her. Even when she saw other idols flirt with you, the most she would do is give you puppy eyes but she wouldn’t even bring up the subject.

Despite being shorter than Karina, your demeanour towered over her. You knew the power you had on her and you always loved this submissive side of her.

“I can’t believe you would ever think I would cheat on you! And i would never!” Responding with a harsh bite to your tone making her flinch

Quickly thinking of a plan to divert this attention on you, the sight of Karina flinching at your words made you ecstatic.

“N-no, but i-,” Jimin started

“No.” You ran your hands through your hair

Pointing to the door as you stare at her saying “Out.”

Reluctantly Jimin walks out and looks at you in the eyes, pleading you to listen to her.

You shake your head and firmly point to the door once again.

———————————————————————

“Hahahaha! Maybe I should come over and warm you up,” the sweet melodic voice of Ningning reverberates over the phone

You giggle in response and chuckle a small “noooo”

“Wait, I need to go to the bathroom, okay babe?” Ning says

Humming in response, you decided to stretch and get off the bed, looking out the window of your apartment to see a figure standing outside.

Checking the time on your phone, it was 1:30 am. 1 hour since you had told Karina to leave.

Looking deep into the lawn, you make out that it was Karina, huddled on the grass covered snow. In her thin attire that she left in. It was not enough to handle the cold for more than a minute with her thin longsleeve and sweatpants that was barely thick enough.

The wind blew into her face as she looked up, seeing your reaction. A small smirk lifted on the corner of your lips as you grabbed your phone telling her to go home.

She texted back saying no and that she wont leave unless you take her back.

Shrugging at her answer, you couldn’t care less. But really you did. You looked outside again and catch a glimpse of her smiling back at you. Goodness she looked creepy with her puppy eyes that still pleaded and smile that was barely containing angry she really felt.

You text her ordering her to stay for one more hour and if she does you’ll take her back. No shot she would do this you thought to yourself.

Walking back to your room, you continue to chat with NingNing, telling her about your busy schedule tomorrow. NingNing was the sweetest girl you have ever met. She wasn’t afraid to show how she really felt and surprisingly she initiated intimately first and God did she know how to use that dick.

Getting lost in conversation, you look back at the clock on your phone. Shit. It’s been longer than an hour you thought. Quickly talking her a goodnight, you got up checking the window.

There she was, still standing there, looking wet and sick.

Feeling sorry for the girl you quickly grab one of her coats and walk down the corridor to the elevator. The thin air rushed you, almost feeling like a cut because of how cold it was.

Looking at the girl for a few seconds, you catch her attention, her gaze lighting up as she ran to you, almost tackling you down onto the snow. Catching your balance, you quickly wrapped the girl with the coat as you felt her ice cold hands cradle your cheek.

As you walk back up to your shared apartment, you lock the door, urging Karina to your shared bedroom and undressing her to change her into dry clothes.

The girl stopped you and grabbed your wrist, suddenly engulfing you into a hug as she leaned down and nuzzled her face into your neck. Tears streamed down her face as she started sobbing. Grabbing her face with your warm hands you look at her.

Ridiculous, you thought to yourself.

“Ba-baby, i’m so sorry for what I did. I wasn’t thinking straight. I know you’re the only one for me. I’m sorry for not being enough and not fulfilling your desires. I’m just scared you don’t like me enough”, Karina rambled out almost incoherently

You nod at her while listening, cutting her off to stop her stupid excuses.

She sniffles, nose red, eyes bloodshot, and lips shaking as you say, "So you won’t do that to me anymore, hm?”

She nods.

"I need words, love."

"Yes. Yes—yes!"

"Okay, good."

Bringing her back into an embrace, you smirk, knowing you’ve broken the girl and that she will do anything for you. You run your fingers through her hair, enjoying the way she trembles under your touch. Her desperate need for your approval, her willingness to endure anything just to stay by your side—it all fuels a dark satisfaction within you.

"I guess sometimes, breaking someone is the only way to make them yours completely," you whisper into her ear. "But remember, Karina, you’re never allowed to forget how easily I can discard you if you disappoint me again."

Her eyes widen in fear, but she clings to you tighter, as if letting go would mean her end. You bask in her dependency, feeling an intoxicating blend of power and control.

"Now, be a good girl and prove your worth," you command softly, relishing the toxic hold you have over her.

[likedovesinthewindd]

Hi are you still taking requests I was wondering if u could do something like Hobie visiting his girlfriend(who is a nurse or doctor) at a free clinic in his universe after leaving HQ and they are just being a cute couple in love(maybe suggestive if u feel comfortable). Bonus points if the topic of kids come up(u know cuz of Mayday) and Y/N is like you’d be a good dad.

i am! and i love this sm so I'll give it my best

hobie brown x fem!reader

warning: mentions of needles and other medical terminology, a slight bit suggestive but nothing too crazy i promise.

wc: ±870

a/n: i love this gif omg😭

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

Days at the clinic were busy most of the time, but you had been fortunate enough to have a fairly calm afternoon on your hands.

You were just getting ready to go home, getting all your things together, when you heard a knock on the door, before you heard the squeak of it being opened. You turned around to find Hobie standing in the doorframe, his tall figure slightly crouched and a smile on his pretty face.

"What a nice suprise, thought you were still at HQ," you said, zipping your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder. "Just got back, thought I'd check in on my favorite nurse," he said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes playfully. "I'm serious," he said when he saw this, "missed my girl."

You gave him a warm smile, trying not to show how much his words made your stomach flutter with butterflies. "You caught me at the perfect time, just got off," you said as you made your way to him, wrapping your arms around and sighing when you felt his long ones wrap around you. "Let's get you home, love," he said and you hummed.

Most of your colleagues knew about you and Hobie, seeing as he always came around the clinic to visit you on your breaks. At first they had been noticeably shocked at the pairing, but it quickly dissipated after every visit.

On your walk home, he had asked you to tell him about his day. He always asked you to tell him about your day; every day. He loved hearing the way you'd describe every task you'd completed and anything weird you had witnessed, your voice alone enough to make him feel like a smitten schoolboy. He quite frankly didn't care if you had the most boring day imaginable either, he just loved hearing your voice.

"I had to give a little girl a shot today. Poor thing was terrified of needles, like petrified. I ended up having to sing her favorite song with her just to distract her," you said as the two of you took the flight of stairs that led to your shared apartment. "That probably scared her even more," he said jokingly and you poked him in the ribs with your housekey, before jabbing it into your apartment door. "Asshole," you muttered, your smile betraying your angry facade.

"Y'know I'm jus' joking," he said his height allowing him to place a kiss on the top of your head as you struggled with the door. "Don't let that damn piercing get stuck in my hair again, please," you warned as you finally got the door open. "Yes ma'am," he said laughing into your hair, removing his lips reluctantly and following you into the apartment.

You quickly whipped up something for the two of you to eat, while he cleaned the bedroom that the two of you had neglected this morning, both too busy getting ready for the day. When you finally finished, the two of you made your way to the couch, equally hungry and tired.

You ate quietly as comfortably as the soft music coming from Hobie's old CD player filled the room with a calm atmosphere. You found yourself thinking about your day once again, and before you even had time to register it, the question had left your lips.

"Would you ever want kids, bee?"

The question threw him a bit off guard. He seized his chewing, quietly placing his spoon back into his bowl and turning to you.

"Are you...?" he tried and your eyes widened. "No! Lord, no I'm not, I'm just curious," you said, placing your own bowl on the small coffee table. "Where's this comin' from?" he asked and you shrugged. "I just thought about the little girl at the clinic, then I thought about little May and how much she likes you. I just think you'd be a cool dad."

Hobie's eyebrows rose in intrigue at your admission, followed by a smile. "Well, I know you'd be an amazing mommy," he said playfully and you couldn't help giggling. After a moment he spoke up again. "Is this your way of telling me you want a baby?" he asked. You shrugged again. "Maybe, not right now obviously, but one day. I was serious when I said you'd be a good father." He smiled, noticing the way his heart clenched at your sincerity. If he ever did decide to have children, he'd gladly share that with you.

"Maybe one day," he said and you smiled, taking both your dirty dishes to the sink; a task left for tomorrow morning. "I'm gonna take a shower, I need to get out of these clothes," you said making your way back to the couch, in search of your phone. "That's a damn shame, you always look so sexy in your blue uniform," Hobie said and you laughed.

He swiftly pulled you into his lap and you yelped at the sudden movement. "Maybe we could get started on that baby," he said playfully and you swatted his chest. "You're fucking crazy," you exclaimed, making him break into a fit of laughter.

"Was worth the try."

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂 ꒱ 성한빈

summary : daytime drinking wasn't your thing, but you got so hammered you were desperately asking for a man that wasn't yours anymore

genre : angst, fluff at the end, hanbin x afab!reader tws : language, verbal fight, mention of alcohol author notes : oh to be hanbin’s passenger princess sighh word count : 1.1k

the beeping of horns sounded distant inside your head. maybe it's because you were incredibly intoxicated, brain borderline shutting off as you pressed your temple against the glass window of the passenger seat. or maybe it’s because despite your brain barely working, you couldn't stop thinking about the man in the drivers seat.

oh, how he must hate you. how he must resent you for being slumped in his car—nauseous, but focus only on him. how he must hate to know that you thought of him in such a vulnerable state, after drinking god knows how much. how he must hate you for having your friends call him because you couldn't stop saying: i want my boyfriend.

but he wasn't your boyfriend. no, not anymore. and that, you thought, must be why he hated you the most.

now the car had halted, a defeated groan leaving hanbin's lips. he was annoyed—maybe even angry—due to the fact that you had to get drunk during rush hour. that he had to pick you up, despite the red flags telling him not to.

you chuckled at his side, body limp against the door. you looked out to the road, but everything was just spinning, delayed, and bouncy. the cars at your side didn't even look real, and it didn't take very much imagination to see the kid in the backseat stick their tongue out at you mockingly.

truthfully, you don't know why you got so drunk on a tuesday afternoon—your friends convincing you (without much protest) that it was a good idea… when it so obviously wasn't. it's not like you even had a hard day or were drinking to forget an embarrassing memory. you were drinking soju in broad daylight, simply, because you wanted to. and, now that it was past 5pm you couldn't figure out why.

that being the reason it was funny.

hanbin gripped the wheel a little tighter at your laugher—hating, but loving the melody still. he wanted to turn the radio on but was afraid a song you two sang together would start playing, making it harder to stay composed.

the truth is, he was still mad at you for breaking up with him without a seemingly good reason. he didn't want to still feel feelings for you, but he didn't know (he did, but wouldn't admit it) why it hurt so much to be in your presence.

you turned your head to him, feeling the energy in the car shift ever-so-slightly in a bad way. maybe you were more in tune, more honest, while drunk and that made him fearful; because he was dangerously close to asking the question that's kept him up all night.

"what?" hanbin gritted out, causing you to chuckle again, this time at the way his knuckles were turning white, which you hadn’t noticed before. "what's so funny?"

"you." you teasingly poked his flexed arm. "you give nothing to the imagination. i can see right through you!"

he rolled his eyes, praying that the cars in front of him would magically disappear. he even debated throwing you out, but knew that he cared about your safety (still) too much to do that.

"you must hate me." you slurred, not giving him the chance to reply. "you must hate that i didn't even tell you why we broke up… do you want to know?" your head fell back against the seat, and hanbin began to panic. he didn't want you to fall asleep after getting so close to knowing what he wanted—no, needed—to know. finally though, you raised your head. "i'll tell you."

he held his breath, knowing that whatever you said couldn't possibly be good enough to make up for the dark bags under his eyes. the ache in his heart. he knew that it would cut open a wound that he's tried time and time again to stitch closed. so, he didn't say anything, pretending as if he didn't care, as if it wasn't something so desperate for him.

but, you knew.

you knew him well, despite being radio silent for so long. you knew his signs, his tells, for everything. it was no use hiding from you, and he must've forgotten that.

"i broke up with you..." you dragged it out, not in an on-purposely antagonizing way, but in a way that spelled out that you no longer had anything to say. and, maybe, you didn’t actually have an end to the sentence.

"What the fuck?" he had finally spoken. "fuck you, y/n. do you even know how much that means to me? you can't just say something so cut-throat like that and then leave me hanging! are you fucking serious right now? i don't care how drunk you are, you know what you're doing to me."

"you do hate me." your voice lowered into a mumble. "if you hate me so much then why did you come get me? huh, hanbin, why?"

"god, y/n! i would've hated if you had called anyone else." you stopped talking. stopped subconsciously playing with his feelings. you felt belittled, in the middle of the road with him driving full speed towards you. he was always vulnerable with you, and you pushed him off the edge. "tell me right now, y/n. otherwise you'll never hear from me again."

you hesitated, knowing what your heart felt, but head rationalized. you didn't know which was worse in this outcome. you didn't know if you could ever have a happy ending with him. you didn't know why he was still replaying on your mind like a broken record. you didn't know why you kept saying he hated you, despite knowing the opposite deep down.

you don't know why you broke up with him.

in the dead-stop of traffic, he grabbed your face, making you focus on him. maybe it was because he was desperate for an excuse to let you go, for some sort of closure. or maybe he just missed the touch of your skin against his.

you wanted to tell him the truth, you even prompted it, but now the nausea in your throat wasn't from the copious amounts of alcohol, but from the way his eyes searched yours for any once of love—anything that told him this was okay with you, that you wanted him back too.

and you were scared that he'd found it, voice shaky. "i don't want to—can't—lose you again."

his lips crashed against yours, almost like he'd been starved for so long, desperate for the feeling. he was almost stomach to the center console, fingers dipping into the plush of your cheeks gently. he didn't want to let you go, and frankly, neither did you, but the fervent honking from behind you had you gasping against the air when he did.

you laughed, it hitting against his lips for a moment, him using all his willpower to not lean in again and close the gap that just kept getting wider as he backed up. he had to be responsible and drive the car home, after all, that's all he was called to do. however, your friends never specified which home he'd drive to. and, you weren't too pressed on asking, knowing that whichever outcome it was, he'd finally be back in your arms.

and this time, you weren't letting him go.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

[nell0-0]

Could you possibly do a fic where the Chain meet Legend's cucco companion, Piyoko? I want to see their reactions to her :D

Sure thing! Sorry for the wait, but here it is ^^

Main characters: Legend, Four, Wild, Wind & Warriors (+Piyoko, of course!)

“Legend, don’t freak out, but don’t you dare move.”

…Not exactly the words one would like to hear first thing in the morning before coeherency made its appearance on his brain, but he would have to deal as usual, Legend figured. What went wrong now?

“…why” Legend said, voice thick with sleep and slightly slurred despite his best attempt.

Turning the other way and sleeping this problem away was so tempting. Problem he wasn’t aware of, mind you, because he could more or less glimpse everyone else around camp. Either sleepy, still snoring or staring at Legend with an intensity only deserved for a dangerous foe or-

“There’s a-“

Legend reached above his head, his hand colliding with something soft, a familiar texture greeting his cautious fingers.

“Wait, stop!”

“Goddesses, he’s doomed.”

“Legend, noooo!”

Grabbing whatever it was, a suspicious squeak as a result, Legend used his elbows to hold his weight while he looked at the cause of alarm for the three dumbasses in front of him.

“Pyo!”

…a cuccoo. Well, at least it wasn’t a tiny monster out for his blood. Even though that description adhered to cuccoos most days. Not to this one, chirping excitedly at seeing Legend’s messy face with dry drool still on the side of his mouth.

The others (just three of them, at least) had jumped back. He had expected the over the top reaction from the champion, who was wieling a soup ladle as if it was a weapon. Not so much from Wind who shouldn’t know what they were since he didn’t have them on his era and he hadn’t yet been attacked by an angry flock on this adventure. Definitely wasn’t expecting Four with a… cane? A magic cane.

A magic cane he hadn’t told Legend about. Darn it.

“Really, guys? First thing on the morning?”

“Why are you so calm about this?” Wind squinted at Legend, taking Wild’s soup ladle and poking at Legend’s face with the round edge. Wild shot Wind a betrayed look, who shrugged in response gesturing at Legend in a baffled manner.

Four’s eyes seemed to shimmer a myriad of colors, his face contorting awkwardly as if he couldn’t decide on whether he should laugh, get concerned or scold them all and go back to sleep.

“Guys, it’s okay, it’s just Piyoko.”

Holding the cuckoo, no longer the little chick she had been while on their adventures with Din’s troupe and the Nayru fiasco, Legend cooed. Wind poked at Legend again, bewildered. The look Piyoko threw the sailor was murderous, the poor kid backing off as if burnt and abandoning the wooden ladle to its uncertain fate. In retaliation, Wild flicked the kid on the forehead, quick to retrieve yet another soup ladle from his seemingly infinite supply on that slate of his.

Why soup ladles? Why not swords. Goddesses knew Wild never had enough of those with the rate he kept breaking them at.

Only Four seemed coherent enough to get them back on track from their usual shenanigans, despite being the less alert of the three.

“Piyoko?”

“Piyoko” Legend smirked. Four’s eyebrow twitched.

“And who’s Piyoko supposed to be? Aside from a cuccoo, I mean.”

“My cuccoo.” At the united front of three unimpressed heroes, Legend relented. “I’ve raised this mayhem bird from before she hatched from the egg.”

“What.”

How eloquent, Wind.

The commotion had seemed to catch Warriors’ attention. Or maybe he had been listening the whole time and Legend had just not noticed. Give him a break, he had just been rudely woken up without a good reason from his power nap after the second shift of the night watch. If he wanted to be grumpy or mad about that fact, he was well within his rights.

Either way, as usual, Legend thought while rolling his eyes out of habit, the war captain butted in the conversation.

“Is that a hero spirit thing, raising cuccoos?”

When Wild and Four shot him bewildered looks, probably questioning if Warriors also had a hidden cuccoo somewhere, Warriors was quick to deny it. Weird.

“If it is, then maybe that’s where Linkle gets it from.”

Legend stared at Wind uncomprehendingly. No way someone had named their daughter that, right? Right?

“Exactly my point.”

Okay, nevermind, apparently Linkle was a thing now, and both the captain and the sailor seemed to know her. How that was possible since, supposedly, none of them had met before this journey of nine heroes, was anyone’s guess. But neither asked about Ravio living in his house earlier that week, despite those two also impossibly knowing the scammer, so Legend wouldn’t ask about this either.

Four sighed, as if incredibly tired of this conversation already — Legend had been the one woken up, not Four, the nerve — he asked “and who’s Linkle?”

“My sister.”

Wild stared. “Your what.”

“You have a sister?”

“Not the point!” Warriors flushed, pointing at Legend. Trying to redirect the dumbass trio’s attention back to him, it seemed. That fucker. “Why are you asking me about my sister when Legend is still holding that cuccoo like nothing!”

Maybe if he was more awake, or if Legend wasn’t secretly elated that Piyoko had sneaked out to join him that day, he wouldn’t have said the next words. As it was, he was way too tired to care.

“To be fair” all eyes snapping in his direction, Legend grinned. “I threw Piyoko at Ganon.”

…

“Why did I never think of that.” Wild stared off at the morning sky, looking as if the world had opened new possibilities he hadn’t been aware of before. It was probably accurate, too.

Four just gaped at Legend, for once at a loss of words.

“She almost plucked an eye out. It was awesome.”

“Weaponized cuccoos.”

“Terrifying.” Wind may have said that, but the glint on his eye told another story.

Warriors took a step to the side, putting some distance between himself and the sailor, seemingly having an internal crisis.

Huffing, Legend dropped his weight on top of his bedroll again, Piyoko flapping her little wings before gently settling on top of his head. While the others woke up and those four got their shit together, Legend was sure he could manage to sleep another five minutes.

[iliketangerines]

Bi-han with a reader who’s his student and he shows her more attention then the other students and they get mad about it ((because you know everyone wants to fuck bi-han)) so they start to bully the reader and one day during training while bi-han is watching they mess her up so she falls flat on her face- which gives her a nose bleed and bi-han ends up getting overprotective and angry at the other students. Maybe it leads to bi-han knocking up the reader or him not allowing her train with them and she trains with him now.

busy bees

a/n: i'm imagining him as like 50 years old because i have never seen a chinese man younger than 50 have a singular gray hair. not proofread*

pairing: bi han x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), nipple play, pussy eating, overstimulation, breeding kink, squirting, creampies

Bi Han treks through the training fields, watching each initiate’s progress and making sure that they were doing well, but he looks for you specifically, his student

Kuai Liang had the idea to give Bi Han a student, one that would fully be able to encapsulate and mimic his moves on the battlefield

he had brought you to the Lin Kuei and assign Bi Han as your mentor, and at first, Bi Han found it annoying having to train someone again

but it proved useful, he was a better teacher, more patient, more nurturing, and going through the basic movesets had him correcting positioning he didn’t even know was wrong

he spots you in the corner of the training field, practicing your moves against a dummy, and he starts to make his way towards you, smoothing his hair down and tucking away the gray strands of hair behind his ear

and then, he stops when he sees a few of the other initiates approach you and surround you in a semicircle

he sees your entire posture stiffen up, how your shoulders tense and your eyes dart between the group of them, and he knows something is wrong immediately

the group crowds you, pushing and poking and prodding, and you let them do as they please, clearly uncomfortable and yet you continue to let them do as they please

Bi Han nearly cracks a tooth as he clenches his jaw when he sees one of them grab onto the back of your neck and shove you into the ground, and he can see how blood pours from your nose

suddenly, a lot of things make more sense, how you’re sluggish and slow during sparring with him, how you keep yourself so tightly wrapped in clothing despite the sweltering heat, why you always seem quiet and alone in the dining halls

he finally reaches the group and clears his throat, and the group turns around, paling in the face as they realize that they’ve been caught bullying the grandmaster’s student

you’re on the ground, eyes down cast as you scramble to get back up, and blood drips down and stains the ground and your uniform as you look shamefully at the ground

Bi Han growls at the group to go to their teachers and that he’ll deal with them later, and they scramble, almost tripping over their own feet in a rush to get away from him

raising a hand toward you face, he gently holds onto your chin as he turns your head side to side, inspecting the damage done to his student

he beckons you to follow him to the medical wing, and you follow in silence while Bi Han cards his fingers through his graying hair, a few more surely to appear when he has to discipline those students

when you reach the medical wing, Bi Han sits you down on one of the cots and retrieves medical supplies from the drawers and tells you to take off your uniform, to show him the extent of your injuries

for a moment, you hesitate, hands shaking, but one stern look from him has your fingers nimbly undoing the belt that holds your robe together

as the robe falls from your shoulders, Bi Han clenches his fists as you reveal blooms of bruises upon your skin, the sloppily applied bandages, and your bony figure

he shakes away the feeling of anger

for now, taking care and healing you was his top priority, and he takes his rough calloused hands and starts to undo the bandages on your body

Bi Han doesn’t say anything as he works, and you stay silent, lips firmly sealed shut as he works on cleaning your old injuries and bandaging them up

finally, he feels your nose for any breaks, and thankfully, there are none and so Bi Han just wipes the blood from your face with a damp rag and throws it into the trash

your eyes don’t meet his as he steps backward to sit on the cot across from the one you sit on, and he crosses his arms in frustration as he asks you when the bullying started and why you didn’t fight back or tell him

silence envelopes the room as you struggle to speak, but Bi Han doesn’t press, letting you take your time in answering his question

finally, you collect yourself enough to explain that they didn’t like how you got to train with the grandmaster personally and that you didn’t want to bother him with your troubles since he was already so busy

Bi Han sighs and drags his hand over his face

you were his student, meant to protect you, guide you, train you to become the best version of yourself, but never a burden

ensuring your best education meant keeping you away from harm or anything that might distract you from your studies, and being bullied by his trainees was included in that

you shift in your seat uncomfortably as you listen to him, and Bi Han tells you that if anyone was to bother you to come directly to him

as he leaves the medical wing to let you recover, he adds on that your lessons will now take place in his personal training pit, to keep you away from the other initiates, before he steps out and slides the door shut behind him

after that day, Bi Han trains you alone in the courtyard, and he made sure to give the initiates their due punishment for bullying you

and he watches how you flower and grow and improve, how you grow more confident in your steps and your punches and your stance, and how you grow happier and sassier with your comments

then, you start growing flirty with your comments, sometimes complimenting his arms, his form, his hair, really anything you could see about him

Bi Han brushes off the flirtations, but he starts to see you in a different light, how your hair frames your face, how you training uniform hugs your body, how you smile at him

a few weeks past, and you and Bi Han circle each other in the training pit, sizing each other up and taking deep breaths

you lunch at him first, going for the attack, and immediately Bi Han goes into a defensive mode and avoids and parries your blows as best he can

he had thought you an incompetent warrior when he first met you, but now he sees that you were more than capable, stronger than he had given you credit, nimbler than a rabbit

he struggles to keep up with your speed as he starts to make counterattacks, and the both of you are stuck in a struggle to win, to pin each other down and have the other yield

but, you are still his student, and in the last minute, you slip up, stance unbalanced, and he pins you to the ground, wrists above your head and weight on your hips

your chest heaves up and down as you catch your breath and yield, and Bi Han breathes out from behind his mask as he watches your flushed face

he’s been close to you before, yes, but for some reason, today was different

you’re hair is just slight messy from fighting, your face is covered in a slight sheen of sweat, and you chest just moves up and down right in front of his face

Bi Han can smell whatever perfume you used this morning, and your hips are soft, wide, and he can’t help but imagine you in a different situation where you would look like this

letting go of your wrists, Bi Han quickly stands up to get off you, trying to hide his growing erection as he coughs into his fist to distract himself

this was his student, he couldn’t just have thoughts about you like that, and yet, as you stand up and stretch out your muscles, arms high above you as you stretch, Bi Han can feel something within his nature shift

he wants you, wants you so desperately, and his hands twitch by his sides as he imagines grabbing onto you and fucking you

you let out a groan as something pops in your back, and you shoot him a flirty wink and some innocuous compliment

it’s the last straw, and Bi Han walks up to you, hands clutching onto the back of your waist to draw you in closer to have your chest pressed into his

you’re so soft, so warm, and he delights in the soft squeak you let out in surprise as Bi Han rips off his mask and buries his nose into your neck

it’s a sweet smell, like cherry blossoms in the spring and honey from the finest flowers in the region, and he can’t help himself as his tongue dips out to taste your skin

you whimper out a grandmaster, hands gripping onto the lapels of his uniform, but you don’t move away either

no, instead you lean into his touch and let him kiss you neck and lave his tongue over the smooth expanse of skin before sinking his teeth into your pulsepoint

a small whine leaves your mouth, and your hips jerk into his, grinding against his hardened cock and making Bi Han moan into your skin

he can’t resist you anymore, and he mutters into your ear that he’s going to ravage you, take you as he please before he picks you up into his arms and walks briskly to his room

it’s a blur as he walks you to his room, how your body presses against his, how your hands hold onto his uniform, and he slams the door shut behind him with his foot before throwing you onto the bed and crawling on top of you

he presses his lips to yours, and your whine rings in his ears as you fist at his uniform and as he clenches the sheets between his fists

this was wrong, he was older than you, he was your mentor, he was your grandmaster, and yet he finds himself losing his control to the sweet taste of your mouth

he cannot resist, not when he grinds his clothed cock into your warm cunt and feels you grind back while moaning into his mouth

Bi Han parts from your lips, trailing a kiss down to your neck and sucking a dark hickey into the skin as your whines and whimpers sends his head spinning

you paw at his clothing, trembling fingers gripping onto his shoulders, and he parts from you to take off his clothing and you quickly follow suit

his eyes rove over your bare body, how the fabric slips from your shoulders to reveal your body and its unmarked lengths of skin

you slide off your pants, and Bi Han can see how your panties are wet, soaked just from him kissing you

pouncing back on you before you’ve fully undressed, Bi Han grabs onto your chest, kneading at the softness with his hands as he latched his lips onto your nipple

he can hear your desperate whines and pleas as he licks your nipples, pressing his tongue flat against the nub and sucking on it while his hand pinches your other nipple

it makes your back arch into his stomach, and Bi Han grinds his cock into the mattress, trying to ease some of the tension as he gropes your chest

it’s so soft, so perfect for him, it fits in his hands perfectly, and he can see how the plushness spills from his fingers, his cock twitching in his pants at the thought of them full and leaking milk

Bi Han moans into your chest at the thought, and you plead him for more, to fuck you

he ignores your pleas, having the experience to know that making you needier would only make it feel so much better in the end, and he moves to lavish your other nipple with the same attention

he bites and sucks and licks with his tongue, relishing in how you whimper and whine and tug his hair loose from its bun

your fingers run through the gray streaks, and he looks up at you, finding your eyes wet with tears and lips swollen form how much you’ve bitten them

sliding down your body, Bi Han spreads your legs with his calloused hands, staring at how you’ve thoroughly soaked your panties, and he tugs at the band of your panties to pull them off

a string of your wetness connects your pussy to your panties, and you cover your face in embarrassment at the sight 

Bi Han tells you to look at him, to watch him as he pleasures you, and he sees you flush red underneath your hands before you pull them away from your face to reveal your fucked-out expression

patting your leg, Bi Han leans in close to your cunt, drooling at the sight of your needy cunt dripping with your wetness, and he brings one of his hands up to spread your sticky folds and watch you clench around nothing

his other hand squeezes at your plush thighs at the sight, and he watches in fascination at how your pussy clenches and drools with need at the feeling

Bi Han grins up at you, and he leans his head down to the inside of your soft thighs, kissing and nipping at the skin

but he keeps his eyes on your spread folds, how your needy cunt clenches around nothing and how your wetness drips out of you onto the sheets

your moans grow in volume, and your hips squirm in need as your thighs try to clamp together for some friction on your clit

Bi Han keeps your legs apart, some wicked part of him savoring at how you’ve become so needy from just him teasing you

he sucks a hickey into the inside of your thigh, and Bi Han hears you let out a choked gasp as your pussy clenches tightly

white liquid leaks from your cunt and runs down Bi Han’s fingers, and he realizes you’ve just come just from him touching and teasing you

he looks up, and all he can see is your dazed expression and how your chest heaves up and down as you ride the last vestiges of your orgasm

removing his hand from your pussy, Bi Han brings it up to his face and licks up your release, moaning at the sweet taste of you, and he wants it straight from the source

he shuffles forward on the bed, burying his face into your pussy, and he laps at your pussy, fucking you on his practiced tongue as his nose grinds into your sensitive clit

you whine and grip onto his hair, tugging at the strands as he eats you out

he’s desperate in his laps, losing himself in the taste of you and dragging you closer to him by your thighs, and you grind into his face as you pant into the air

Bi Han doesn’t care that you’re not looking at him anymore, head tilted back as moans and whines spill from your mouth

no, he’s too lost in your taste and the need to make you cum on his tongue so that he can taste that nectar again

when your legs twitch around his head, and your back arches off the bed, Bi Han grinds his nose into your clit harder, tongue desperately fucking into your cunt as you reach your orgasm

just as sweet as before, just as delicious, Bi Han can’t help himself and needs to bring you to another orgasm, and he grinds his cock into the mattress as he hears you cry out as he keeps on fucking you on his tongue

your hands push at his arms, his head, as you cry out that it’s too much, and he detaches himself, just for a second, to tell you to let him enjoy this, enjoy you

and then he’s back to eating you out, the bottom half of his face dripping with your wetness, but he doesn’t care, not when he’s so close and you’re so sweet

you stop struggling in his hold and let him fuck you on his tongue, and your hips squirm and wriggle underneath him

Bi Han lets you wriggle underneath him, but his nose stays firmly pressed into your puffy clit as he brings you to another orgasm

he groans into your pussy as he tastes you again, and he grinds his hips into the mattress as he feels his cock twitch at your pitiful whines

lifting his head up, he’s met with the sight of your head thrown back, and your chest heaving up and and the slight pudge of your stomach

his hands go up to squeeze at the fat, admiring how you’re so soft compared to him, and the thought of you full of his heirs, full of his cum, fills his head

he’ll have to save tasting you all day for another time, right now, he needs to fuck you, fill you with his seed, knock you up with his children

he slides your legs to his shoulders and shuffles up on the leg so that your legs press into your chest, and he slots his lips against yours as he grinds his hard between your swollen folds

you moan into his mouth, and he can feel your wet eyelashes tickle his cheek

you’re already crying, and he’s barely done with you, Bi Han was truly going to ruin you

Bi Han lines up his cock with your greedy pussy and slides in slowly, and he listens to your gasps and choked whines as you clench down on him, as if trying to get him to stop going further

but he doesn’t stop, he goes until he’s bottomed out, and Bi Han has to bury his face into your neck and bite at your flesh to control himself

you’re so tight and wet, and your whines are so sweet for him, and he wants to fuck into you right now, have you drooling and begging for his cock to fill you

but he resists and lets you adjust to his size, patience is key, and finally your pained grunts turn into desperate wiggles as you plead for him to move

Bi Han moves slowly at first, listening to the lewd squelches of his hips thrusting into you, and you pant and whimper into the air at the feeling, hips bucking up into his

quickly losing himself in the feeling, he starts to quicken his pace, pumping you full of his cock faster and faster until his hips slap against yours

you clench down on him and keen as you cum on his cock, and Bi Han groans at the feeling, how sensitive you are just for him

he tells you that you’re so good for him, so pretty and beautiful, how he’s going to fill you with his seed, with his heirs, have you carry on the next generation

you whine along to his words, eyes glossy and drool dripping down your chin as you nod, and Bi Han sucks a dark hickey into your neck at your agreement

his pace grows sloppy as his feels his cock twitch inside of you, and Bi Han wants to kiss you

so he brings his head up from your neck to press his lips to yours, and he moans into your mouth as your pussy clamps down on him and you squirt

the feeling of your wetness coating his pelvis sends him over the edge, and he buries himself deep and cums inside of you, filling you with his seed

he rocks his hips in and out of you slowly, letting the both of you ride out your highs as he fucks his cum deeper into you

Bi Han hopes it takes, he really does, and he parts from your lips to see you close your eyes, tired and sleepy from being fucked ruthlessly

his cock twitches inside of you at the sight, and well, he wants to make sure that his seed takes, his hips setting another pace as you start to whine from the overstimulation

a few months later, Bi Han greets you in the courtyard as you read underneath one of the cherry blossom trees

you smile up at him, and he sits down next to you and moves you into his lap

he rubs at your pregnant belly as you turn your head and kiss the side of his cheeks, and Bi Han relaxes in the bliss of the situation knowing that you were in his arms, safe and happy

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Kinktober Day 1: Stuck in a wall

Pairings: Rindou x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, top/dom!reader, spanking, dacryphilia, very slight dubcon (Rindou starts to enjoy it pretty quickly), slight fourth wall breaking

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Notes: Listen, I'm not gonna figure out logic for how Rindou got stuck in the wall, so just imagine it's some Halloween magic 🤫

....How did he even get into this predicament? How does one end up literally sticking through a solid wall?

“Rin...what the fuck happened?” You asked, extremely confused at the sight before you. Your boyfriend was, well...inside of the wall. More like going through the wall actually. When you walked through the hallway, you were immediately greeted by his lower half hanging from the wall. Then when you poked it and it moved, you grew more concerned, walking around to the bathroom directly on the other side to find Rindou's upper half jutting out, looking up at you like a deer in headlights

“Help. Me. Now.” His body thrashed about, desperately attempting to free himself from the building, frustration evident on his features

“What do you expect me to do?! You're in the wall!” Truly the last thing you expected to see when you came home...

“I don't know! Just do something! ” Rindou slumped in exasperation. Muscles tired from trying to hold himself up and wriggle out of the hole

You carefully examined the area around his torso, it was weirdly...intact. The wall was smooth, almost seamless. Clearly, he didn't fall through, otherwise there would be some rubble or debris or something, some kind of evidence that the wall broke. But there was nothing. It genuinely looked like Rindou had phased halfway through the wall and stopped before he passed to the other side

“Rin, I think you need to face the facts...you're just decor now.” He feebly attempted to lunge at you, twisting his body and swatting his hands at whatever he could reach. You only chuckled at his pouty lips and misty eyes, though you felt kind of bad that he was upset. You figured he'd probably been here for a while, trying to free himself and getting angry at the failed attempts

Suddenly, you remembered something from the fanfics you like to read... You've seen this scenario before, where someone magically gets stuck in the wall or something like that, and they usually end up getting fucked hard in such a vulnerable position. And you'd be lying if you said that that thought didn't arouse you...maybe if you did that to Rindou, it would get him magically unstuck? Ok that's shoddy logic, but why not take advantage of the situation, since there weren't any obvious ways to pry him out?

Rindou eyed you suspiciously as you peeked around the door frame, walking back out into the hallway. He flinched when something touched his butt, groping at him and rubbing along his back. “Now's not the time, y/n.” He growled

In response, you gave his cheeks a firm smack, making Rindou yelp from the other side. “I said n-not now...”

“C'mon, it's not like it'll make this situation worse, right?” You reasoned, grabbing his hips and pressing against him. “If anything, this will ease some of your stress. Just let me help you, yeah?”

You heard him whine, wiggling around some. It almost seemed like he was rubbing his thighs together, maybe he did find this a little hot after all...

Your fingers found the front of his pants, slowly unbuttoning them and letting them slide down to his ankles. Rindou gasped when you brushed against his thighs, whining again as you began to touch him more, “Y/n... Stop...”

Smack. His body jerked at the sudden collision. Clamping a hand over his mouth to hopefully muffle any more noises, not wanting to sound pathetic in front of you. Nevermind the fact that you've brought out his pathetic, perverted side plenty of times already, turning him into a sobbing, drooling whore on many occasions...

“I'll be right back, I'm gonna grab something, ok?” With that, you ran to the bedroom to retrieve the bottle of lube that was stored in the dresser. Quickly returning and dripping a small amount onto Rindou's ass, the cool liquid causing him to squeak in surprise. You slowly spread it around his hole, making sure to get enough on your fingers before you worked them inside. He gasped when you finally plunged them in, stretching his pretty ass, scissoring your digits and sliding them in and out. Finding his prostate and making him keen when you pushed on it, gasps and moans escaping from his lips

Rindou clawed at the wall around him, feeling sweat build up all over, his body reacting to your ministrations somewhat against his will. He really just wanted to be unstuck asap, but your skilled fingers pumping in and out of his ass made his head feel all fuzzy... It felt too good, so maybe he'll let you do what you want, as long as he gets out eventually...

When his ass felt thoroughly stretched, you removed your fingers and lined your cock up with his hole, rubbing it against him a little. Rindou bit his lip when you teased him, feeling more eager to just have you inside, stuffing him full like he deserves

And you did just that, pushing your dick inside while he groaned, “Fuck...'s big...” It hurt a little bit when the head first stretched him further, but the pleasure took over shortly afterwards, drowning out any other thoughts and filling his head with pure bliss

You picked up the pace, thrusting into him more harshly, landing another slap on his ass, the skin turning pink and warm. More wanton moans fell from Rindou's mouth, punctuating your every thrust. His squishy insides squeezed your cock just right, milking out more precum to add to the wet mess already inside of him

“You're really getting into this now, huh? Such a pretty little slut for me.” Another painful slap against his cheek as you degraded him, rubbing the skin soothingly to ease the sting. Unseen by you, tears began to pool in the corners of Rindou's eyes, threatening to fall if you spanked him again. The humiliation of being stuck in this helpless state only turned him on more, unable to take control in any way, unable to move away, forced to just take whatever you were going to do to his body

“Ha-harder...please, harder... Aaahh—!! ” Rindou's eyes rolled to the back of his head as you pounded your hips into his rhythmically, slamming against the wall with each sharp thrust. Tears finally dropped onto the ground below him, staining his face as he became overwhelmed by pure pleasure

“Babe, I'm really close...want it inside?” You practically had a vice grip on Rindou's hips, digging into him and nearly breaking the skin

“Y-yes...fuck—!! Fill me...want you in me...” He breathed, sweat beading on his forehead. His own release not far behind

You angled your thrusts so that you were pounding against his prostate again, relentless pace now becoming sloppy as you shot your load deep inside of him, painting his insides with hot, white cum. Rindou screamed as he felt your seed flood his guts, shooting his own cum all over the wall that he was trapped in

Leaning against the wall, you took a deep breath, hearing Rindou's panting on the other side. Both of you were completely spent after your spontaneous fucking. Rindou whined when your dick slipped out of him, already missing you, wishing you could just stay buried inside of him all day

Cum dripped out of his hole and ran down his legs, so you scooped it up and pushed it back into him with your fingers, earning a high-pitched moan from your darling slut. You chuckled and rubbed his hips lovingly

“Wanna go again, Rin? ”

Tagging: @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

[romanshomeonwattpad]

Awaken Me | Tobias Eaton

pairings — four/reader | divergent au! |

summary : four seems to pick on you especially—and you figure out why. it’s because you both share the same secret.

warnings : none i think?

authors note : i forgot about this and decided to upload it even tho it’s unfinished…

© elliotsblunt 2022. do not repost, modify, or translate.

Your eyes burned slightly as you blinked away tears, confused as to why you couldn't find that certain...

Anger.

Wren, a curly haired blonde that belonged in Amity—somehow landed in Dauntless. But during combat, her frail arms would summon the strength of twice the muscle capacity she contains. If you hadn't seen her flip a man twice her size over her figure—

You wouldn't have believed it.

Anyways, Wren had told you that she had reached that certain level of fighting simply by thinking of what angered her most. The the thing was, nothing horrible had happened to you.

You were born and raised in Amity, where the crime rate remained a negative 0–if that were possible, it would be rated just that.

Your ma and pa sheltered you, as you were their only child. You were also extremely close with them, but after getting your screen test back—it was time to begin a new chapter in your life. One that would drag and smash you to the ground like a bug.

Which is what happened now—basically.

Gritting your teeth, you rolled over to dodge one of your opponents lashes. Fortunately, the girl wasn't a merciless bitch, and let you stand up whilst getting back into position. With shaky fists, you gulped, muttering a quick curse before her own swung towards your chin.

But—

The beating never came. The throbbing rush of warm blood thrashing in your veins never crashed. Your jaw was in tact, and you weren't flopped on the ground like a beaten animal.

Your eyes snapped open, flashing over to the strong hand wrapped around Turner's wrist. Turner, the girl you were fighting, gulped as she stood back from Four. His chest radiated of a warm essence that burnt your cheeks—especially with the smirk dripping off his face.

"Turner," he released her grip, not glancing at you, "It appears the Mary Poppins hasn't improved. Isn't fair to you, is it?"

Your throat went dry, remembering how much of a total prick he was. At first, you thought he was hot, so you deemed him to maybe be a good person. But after you figured one of his life goals was to torment and embarrass you—you checked your values and common sense.

His eyes were dark, but still weren't ever fluttered onto your figure—almost as if he didn't even want to look at you. It damaged your confidence more, knowing you were probably going to be factionless if you didn't shape up soon.

Turner only shrugged, dropping her arm back to her side before placing both hands on her hips. She raised a brow at you as you let out a sharp breath, wiping the imaginary dust off your palms before looking down at the ground and stepping off the fighting podium.

Your ears ring as her blows caused you some damage. Chewing on your bottom lip, you held back your defeated thoughts as Wren threw an arm around your shoulder,

"It's okay. I got a few beat downs my first year here. It gets better," she attempted to cheer you up. You merely hummed as she continued, "Anger, _ _. That's what powers you. You need—“

“I know,” you snapped, stopping your feet before rolling your eyes at her, “I know. But I’m not an angry person, and I’m shit at fighting.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Pity isn’t what makes you a Dauntless, _ _,” she stepped towards you, poking a nimble finger into your heart, “So instead of whining, kid, maybe you should just stop thinking and fight.”

Slowly nodding, you stood there as she headed over to the cafeteria for lunch. You noticed that the boxing bag area was empty—and it clicked in your head what Wren said.

Fight.

Bringing your fists up, you got into a fighting stance and threw your first punch. With gritted teeth, you felt the material bruise up your knuckles—but you wanted to feel it. Feel the pain. If you couldn’t feel the pain, then pity would just Pool around in your chest instead.

And you hated pity.

Hissing as you retracted your first, you did it again. Then repeated on the other fist. Every time the cool leather collided with your knuckles, it sent a sharp pain up your hand. But you stood through it, until the next time you swung, you didn’t realize the bag had made its own hit towards you—swinging and hitting your body with a harsh force.

Letting out a grunt, your body slammed into the cold cement of the training sector. Your ribs ached as you didn’t twitch to get up, instead accepting that you were going to be factionless if you didn’t get back up.

Get back up, _ _. You have to.

Sweat dribbled down your forehead as you landed another punch to the bag. You made it a mission to skip lunch so you could train, because you'd rather starve than be factionless. Breathing harshly through your teeth, you felt the muscles slightly tense in your arms.

"Mary poppins hasn't improved, has she?"

You felt your lip curl as you delivered another brutal hit, finally taking victory in the bag. You released a grunt as your fists kept colliding with it.

You were going to show that stuck up son of a—

"You're supposed to eat in order to gain muscle. Didn't teach you that back in Amity, huh?" You heard a voice quip, a deep and gravelly voice.

Jumping from surprise, your head snapped over to see Four leaning against one of the bags. His eyes were focused on you, smoky and stormy. You looked away from him instantly, but kept your focus on him, "Skipping lunch won't make you a Dauntles—"

"If someone tells me one more time what does or doesn't make me a Dauntless, I might just fucking shoot myself," you raised your voice, feeling the patience that usually you held snapped like a tree branch. Four's eyes stayed narrowed as he now crossed his arms, the muscles protruding from that caramel, ink covered skin of his.

You gulped, "I meant—"

He stood up straight, a smirk creeping into his plump, pink lips as he stepped towards you, "You're nothing but a farmer. You cannot train remotely enough to become one of us," he hissed, venom laced in his words. Something swirled in his eyes, making your jaw lock,

"You don't have anger. You have self pity, and Dauntless don't pity themselves. They fight, and are willing to give up their life for people. How can you fight others when you're fighting yourself already?"

You blinked, feeling anger begin to rise within you. It was a foreign feeling—but you didn't hate it. If anything, your veins welcomed the poisonous rage, but you bit your tongue.

Four laughed darkly, "You can't even speak up for yourself. Surely, you should go back to those farmers," he continued, making your fists balled up at your sides. As he continued to degrade you and your home, well— people who used to be your home, it rose.

The anger rose. It felt as the ground begun to shake, sudden flashes of all the combat you had witnessed before your eyes playing like a rapid slideshow in your mind. The cracks of the bones whenever someone would slip their foot beneath someone—breaking their balance.

Your eyes flickered up to his. He paused right before you, the scent of cologne filling your nose as your chest heaved deeply. Every sense of angst within you was on fire as he tilted his head.

"You don't belong here. But I doubt you'll be able to go home, since your parents disow—"

Your foot slipped under him, trapping him to the ground with a grunt from him. Your teeth clenched as you aimed to punch him, but he immediately snapped his eyes into yours. With furrowed brows, he grabbed your wrist and striked your leg with a harsh kick.

Your knee buckled, a bullet of pain shooting through your muscles. The cold concrete pavement of the training sector burned the flesh on your cheek, ears ringing as a dull ache formed in your back from the landing.

“C’mon, _ _,” Four chuckled, more so in a tiresome way than a tormenting tone. His chest heaved as I blinked, “Get up. Don’t give up now.”

It clicked. Was he…training you?

A boost if adrenaline shot through you. He believed in you. That was the push you needed to balance your wobbling arms off the ground, barely being able to push your body—but you did. Your fists balked at your sides as you gulped, accidentally melting into his cold eyes.

They weren’t as cold, though. As if the ice had slightly melted—but there was still another thick layer.

“Fighting is a dance,” he murmured firmly, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. You let out a harsh breathe as he held your back against his chest, before roughly pushing you away. You hit one of the punching backs, grunting as he smirked, “Until it’s not.”

“Can’t imagine dancing with you,” your eyes narrowed—only making his smirk grow.

But you didn’t hear a response, instead your eyes noticed he was about to take a step forward. Then, you watched his arm twitch—ducking before delivering a jab to his side. He flinched, which broke the barrier, and you didn’t wait to kick him down to the ground.

With a loud thud, you watched as his braid figure slammed against the ground. Picking up your feet, you darted towards him. Every single insult he’d ever thrown at you replayed in your head. He was trying to anger you.

Did he perhaps…care?

Sliding your knee across the ground, you grabbed both of his hands and held him down. Your hair fell over your face, panting deeply, as you used the rest of your strength to fight off his. His hues twitched to yours, something flashing in his eyes as they met yours.

Your throat became dry. Butterflies erupted in your tummy, a warm feeling hugging your heart.

Feeling the cheeks in your face burn—you felt the world slowly silence around you as your eyes melted onto his. You didn’t know if it was your imagination, or the adrenaline pumping in your veins—but you swore you felt his long fingers slowly graze your thigh.

Wait—

How did they get fre—

And in an instant, you were flipped into the ground. His strong hands held you down, gripping your wrist, as his muscular chest held down yours. Bodies pressed against one another, his grunts filling your ears…it was truly a sight.

A musky scent flooded your senses as you felt like you were high, wanting to reach out and touch that sculpted jaw of his. The stubble poking from his skin is probably scratchy against your palm, but his flesh still looked smooth and supple.

Despite his appearance coming off ragged and rough.

“That’s how you fight like a Dauntless,” He taunted darkly, making your brows raise in shock, “You’ll do just fine in ranks if you uh—“

His eyes fluttered to your lips, before he gulped and squeezed his eyes shut. He pushed himself off the floor, away from you, before dusting off his pants, “You should do just fine, _ _.”

Before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and made his exit.

[cattlemons]

hi :)) a bit of a personal request but could i get wanderer comfort for a fem or g/n reader? (your choice) i have a...difficult relationship with my father. when he's sad/angry/upset he usually takes his frustration out on me by yelling at me and calling me names and other hurtful things. then when i cry he tells me that I'm pretending to be a victim, and blames me entirely for his feelings. i just had a sitution like this earlier tonight so its on my mind :) anyway, could i get wanderer comfort for a situation like this? or if this is too specific maybe where reader just doesn't get along with their father? thanks sm <33333

A Salve For Unhealed Wounds

TW: Toxic dad, name calling by a parental figure, emotional distress and familial conflict, crying in public, there's a swear word in there, 1,5k words

a.n. Nonnie, sorry for the wait :( I had an exam and couldn't be on here at all (also left you a short message at the bottom)

It happened again. 

The man you were supposed to trust with your life yelled at you again. Your heart aches at the implication that the weight of his love for you changes depending on the emotion reigning his mind and heart. Your mind crumbles when it recollects the words he spat out so easily when red paints his iris. 

It wouldn’t have hurt as much if he’s always this way. It hurts because you’ve seen the smile that escapes his guarded heart on rare occasions. You’ve also heard him say good things and do good deeds the way an honorable man would–when he’s not mad that is.

It’s unfair that he can’t always be that way with you.

You took off towards the Puspa Cafe, hoping the bustle of Sumeru evening would be the cooling salve you need to soothe your battered mood. 

Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Entering the establishment, scents of coffee and spice filled your nostrils as ease settled between the spaces of your bones. The balmy yellow and brown hues greeted your weary state as the inviting warmth of the cinders burning in the oven beckons you to rest. You made the right call to come here tonight.

Or, so you thought.

Despite being on good terms with the otherwise lonesome man, you did not want to see the infamous hat guy; not tonight. It’s less about his presence and more about yours. The dynamic between the two of you is akin to that of a flying serpent and a scorpion. You’d take frequent jabs at each other, flinging teasing remarks and poking fun at one another but somehow, in a very weird roundabout way, there’s always a sincere sort of care behind it all. 

Right now, however, you don’t think you have it in you to take what you know he can dish. You did get lucky and got a secluded seat, you just hope he does not notice you here. 

“What are you doing here, prickly bush,” he called out to you just as your train of thought chugged away to somewhere beyond the oak doors of the cafe.

Right, so much for peace of mind.

You turn towards him, the frown that began dissipating moments ago returning in full force. Grumbling before speaking, you let out, “Not today, please, I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh yeah, someone’s definitely a prickle bush right now.”

You were at a crossroads between telling him to leave and bursting into tired tears when he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Your eyebrows scrunched as he sat across you. You looked at him but his eyes were trained away from you, staring at some other patron sitting at the wooden bar just a bit away from the both of you. 

Since when was he a caring man?

Your thoughts and confusion settle into a prolonged silence. You half expected him to grumble out an insult along the lines of “Are your ears clogged” or “Need help finding a hearing aid” but he, surprisingly, sat still; eyes now hopping over to a woman by the door having a conversation with a balding man. 

Is he patient now? What kind of patron-saint bullshit is he pulling?

Not that you’re complaining, though. You much prefer this despite the weirdness of it all; or rather the newness. 

“I’m fine–”

“Don’t lie, if you can’t lie,” he interrupts as he points at your fingers curling in on each other. 

He sure is perceptive when you don’t want him to be.

Silent gathers the both of you in its arms once more as you think of a response to give to him. He’s being kind right now but you don’t feel like divulging everything to him. Your friendship is just beginning to stand on two feet. It’s taking baby steps at best. You don’t want to scare him away by dumping all your shit on him. By the abyssal name, he probably carries more baggage than you and you don’t see him throwing them around.

“You don’t have to tell me, don’t get all constipated just because I asked,” he said before continuing even softer, “You seemed down, just thought it’d be helpful to ask.”

Though you did not notice it at the time, your heart slowly began to lay down the walls you raised from the events that transpired earlier under the roof of your father’s house. 

Perhaps, he can help.

The wanderer was about to take his leave when you whispered with a certain weariness he found familiar, “My father isn’t always a nice man.”

He sat back down as quickly as he could. He probably sat on one of the ornate hanging detailings of his hat or on that long sleeve of his but he couldn’t be bothered by it. Though his eyes look past you, you know his focus is solely on what you have to say.

So, you told him. At first, you tried to be as close to the baseline as possible, choosing to speak of the basic details but soon you choked up and told him everything. Your thoughts, your fears, even your longing for a better version of the father you wanted to look up to, bubbled out of your tired heart. As the night sky grows darker outside, you find yourself slightly teary-eyed as your long story comes towards its end. 

Your eyes were still on your hands that laid on your lap, palms now sweaty from excessive nervous rubbing. You stole a glance at him and, just like you, he barely moved from his previous position. He’s still not looking at you, almost like he’s not listening at all but you know he is. 

It took a beat or two, almost like he was waiting to see if you had more to say before he opened his mouth to speak. 

“You’re kind, you know?”

What?

“I don’t get it. What do you mean ‘I’m kind’?”

“Just that. You’re kind, maybe even too kind.”

You fully looked up at him now to see that his eyes were already on you. 

“I listened to you tell me about the horrible things that man says to you and, yet, you still call him by a title he doesn’t deserve,” before you can question him, he answers, “A dad.”

You’re silent as he continues, “This cruel world decides to give him something so precious and he decides to lie and say all these shitty things. He’s not a good man but he’s dumb too if he’s got something so precious and decides that the best course of action is to call it untrue names. Does he not realize the power a name holds?”

Wet droplets stain your hands and lap as tears fall from your eyelids, lungs heavy, and muscles sagging. 

Taking a look at his surroundings he sighs before taking his hat off and placing it on you.

“I’m sure you don’t want anyone seeing you like this and speaking about it tomorrow, here.”

The tenderness of his voice and action winds your heart up as more choked sobs gurgle out of your throat.

Your neck tightens in protest as you try to speak but you fight the pain of your contracting muscles as you force out, “On a good day I… I know that he's lying… but sometimes I can’t help but think he’s right,” you sniffled and let a wave of uncontrollable sobs pass you by before continuing, “I mean there’s only so much… so much… I can deny before something false starts feeling real.”

Your admission broke the puppet's imaginary heart as he wills himself to hold back his instinct to swing insults and fists at your father. Instead, he chose to let what he supposes are comforting words drown your sorrow. It’s rigid and almost primal the way he tries to soothe your sadness but it's tender and warm in its own way, just as he is. 

“Are you… are you sure he’s wrong? How can you… you be so sure?”

The staccato of your unsure question is met with unwavering eyes as he nods. 

“I’m sure. I wouldn’t have said what I said otherwise.”

You hid your face with your hands as your back slumped forward. The wanderer could see the heaving of your shoulders and he could only comfort you by repeating his praise for you. Much like a devotee chanting his faith, he whispered kind words in hopes that by repeating it, you will believe this too. He hopes he’s done enough to override the names your father engraved into you with angered frowns, at least temporarily. The road to recovery winds away and is far from linear but he's ready to accompany you if you want him to.

As you continue to let out the emotions you thought dried up years ago, you hear him say, “Even if you forget again, just tell me and I’ll remind you that you’re nice, you’re smart and you’re so, so kind.”

Nice, smart, and kind huh? 

You don’t think you can believe it right now but slowly, you hope you will.  

To Nonnie, I'm sorry you have to go through this. I hope this little piece of fiction brings you some comfort, even if it might not fully capture what you're feeling. If there's anything more I can do to help or if you just need someone to talk to, please let me know.

[saey707]

OMG A LEAGUE WRITING BLOG.. Honestly you’ve partially inspired me to make one!!! I love your works so far :)

But! In the meantime, the S/H comfort you wrote for Kayn was so beautiful! So I wanted something similar with Aphelios with a touch that’s a little more personal to me! if possible i’d like to request heartsteel Aphelios with his s/o (who May or May not be chubby, depending on your preference) struggling with an eating disorder? thank you in advance!

✿ Prompt: Aphelios worships you ✿

♡ champion focus: aphelios ♡ tw: reader w/ low self esteem + ed ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author's Note: Hi, anon! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ This was a bit of a difficult subject for me to write, but I still wanted to get something small out nonetheless! I didn't touch too much into the ed, because it is a bit of a touchy subject to me. But I still hope you like what I have in store! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Aphelios knows how to read people like the back of his hand. It's one of his own personal superpowers... Or, more so a catalyst of being unable to speak.

Because of this, he is able to effortlessly observe those around him and know exactly how someone is feeling. He knows how to manipulate people to get what he wants. And worst of all, he knows when someone is lying to him or not. Including you.

That was one of the things you grew to hate about Aphelios. You hated that you could never lie to him.

It took a couple of weeks for Aphelios to realize something was wrong. It was just a matter of figuring out what it was...

You were always so confident and bright. You never cared about how anyone felt about you and never did anything to appease anyone. You did what you wanted when you wanted, which was something that Aphelios loved about you!

Aphelios couldn't help but wonder: Was it him? Did he do something wrong? He thought the two of you had a good relationship, you never had any problems before... It can't possibly be him... Maybe it's the fans? You both did recently come out as a couple! Maybe they were just jealous? Aphelios couldn't see a reason why anyone wouldn't like you right off the bat! But... Could that be the reason??

He had to investigate...

"Did you eat today?" Aphelios typed hastily before holding his phone up. You hummed in response. But he knew you were lying.

"Do you want the other half of my mooncake?" "I'm not hungry right now, Phel. but thank you!" He knew you were lying.

"We're all going to grab dinner, I'll bring you something back!" "You really don't have to! I'll find something here!" Still, he would always bring you something back.

While he was out, Aphelios took the opportunity to turn to his friends for help, which was extremely unlike him. Aphelios usually kept to himself, so it came as a surprise to everyone in the group when he asked for them to look around and see if they could find anything.

And when they did, Aphelios couldn't help but feel a wave of regret wash over him. He felt like it was his fault. He felt responsible for the way you felt. Aphelios pushed for you to have a more public relationship with him after all... In a way, he felt like was responsible for destroying your self-confidence.

But that feeling was quick to fade with Yone's reassurance. Instead, Aphelios felt angry. Not at you or himself... But at the entire world for expecting you to change.

You didn't need to change a single thing about yourself. You were nothing short of perfection to Aphelios. And he intended to remind you of it every day from there on out.

As soon as Aphelios got home, he burst through the doors, carrying 5 bags of food and a half-eaten box of chocolates he somehow swiped from the back of Ezreal's car.

"Phel..?" You were caught off guard by your boyfriend unexpectedly engulfing you in a big hug. His shoulders were shaking, giving you the surefire indicator that he was only beginning to cry.

You tried to pull away from him, but he only held on tighter.

Tears poked at the corners of your eyes. You knew.

Aphelios didn't need to speak to convey his love for you. His actions alone did that. That was one of the things you grew to love about Aphelios. You loved how he always knew the precise way to show you how much he loved you.

And you didn't realize how much you needed for him to see the issue at hand until now.

[shalscumbunny]

Lovely husband | Shalnark

How is he?

💖 The truth is that I feel that with collaboration (A LOT) and understanding, both the normal Shalnark and the Yandere Shalnark can be very good husbands (To the extent possible)

💖 Unlike other characters (COFCOFIllumiCOFCOF), I don't see it with the desire to become a housewife who cooks and takes care of her 17 children (Since we have talked previously in this profile that Shalnark hates the idea of ​​a baby poking around in his things and stealing your attention), I consider that he doesn't even care that you can't/know/want to cook for him, he will cook for both of you if he has time and if you can't go out to eat (In case of kidnapping they will ask for delivery).

💖 I think one of the reasons he wants a wife is to dress her pretty and show the world that he has the sprettiest wife, ask him to choose your clothes, you will make him happy (I think Shalnark has very good taste in dressing and dressing to others) will keep you dressed in fashion and/or according to his tastes, but if or if you will look good, I promise.

💖 It is worth mentioning that Shalnark is the 5000th spoiler, if you are good to him, he will be five times as good to you, he will buy you whatever you want (Money is not lacking here, dear ones) Clothes, jewelry, collectible figures, tablets, cell phones, bed, a pet, it doesn't matter if it's even ridiculous, maybe he makes fun of it, but he buys it for you ✨ Because he loves you and the best is little for you who are his beloved and beautiful wife ✨

💖 He likes that you talk to him, he loves that you talk to him, he likes to hear your voice, that you tell him your things (I would even say that he is quite a gossip)

Does he ask for a lot?

💖 The truth is that I feel that compared to others who ask for 87 children (Illumi and Kurapika), total submission (Chrollo and Feitan), etc. Shalnark really asks for little (Though it depends on what kind of person you are too, I guess).

💖 Shalnark only asks for your affection, your attention and love, he is a being in need of affection 24/7 and if you give it to him he will be more than happy.

💖 He doesn't ask that you receive him with the food prepared and the children well bathed and changed (He doesn't even ask for children or food). He just needs you to be at the door of the house with your arms open so that he can pick you up and spin you around the air while he fills your face with kisses and tells you that you are the most precious thing he has.

💖 He wants you to ask him about his day while you are sitting on his lap kissing his cheeks or scratching his hair (Scratch his hair, he needs it and he loves it)

💖 In case of a bad day he just wants to hide in your lap and you tell him that everything will be fine while you lovingly rub his back. You see? Simple!

SLEEP TOGETHER?

💖 Yes, absolutely yes (And of course in the best and most expensive bed)

💖 He snores a little, not enough to wake you up or make you feel uncomfortable, but if you tell him that it bothers you he will try everything to stop snoring because your sleep is very important.

💖 100% need for contact, he will sleep hugging you, the position does not matter but he will not let you go, so it is better not to drink water at night so that you do not feel like going to the bathroom because you will not be able to unless you wake him up

💖 It's hot? He's still going to hug you and if you ask him not to hug you because it's hot, he'll be sad, he'll get angry, and you'll be the one who has to apologize for hurting his sensitive feelings.

💖 But… BUT When it's cold!?!?!? feeling those muscular and strong arms around you is a dream, so warm and comforting at night, protecting you from everything, while you hear several "I love you" from Shalnark's lips in your sensitive ear. There is no better way to sleep.

Thank you so much for reading this shit 💖

Do you want a NSFW VERSION o or hear about other characters as husbands/wifes? Coment!