#(head in hands) I WILL get better at animation. I WILL get better at animation. I WILL

[aewon]

ENHYPEN WHEN YOU…put your hands in their back pockets

pairing ✧ enhypen x f!reader g: fluff warnings: kissing, cussing, pet names, pda, groping, implied shorter reader in sunghoon’s ✧ note: inspired by the no doubt choreo !

LEE HEESEUNG

you’re sitting in enha’s practice room, watching them practice no doubt’s choreo. their choreographer calls for a break and they immediately disperse. heeseung turns towards you and open his arms, wanting a hug.

who are you to deny him? you make your way to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. he sighs in content, resting his head on your shoulder. you decide to be sneaky and slowly drift your hands downwards until they’re snug in his back pockets. you hear him giggle but he doesn’t pull away, “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” you say, deciding to play with him by squeezing his butt, making him let out a curse.

“shit!”

you laugh as he pulls back, looking at you incredulously.

“you are such a menace,” he says, but he doesn’t hesitate to return the favor, making you squeal.

PARK JONGSEONG

you’re in your shared apartment, laying on the couch while jay lays on top of you. your arms are wrapped around him, holding close to you.

an idea pops into your head, and you put it into action, sliding your hands down into his back pockets.

“why are you touching my ass?” you know he’s not mad, just curious by his tone.

“it’s a nice ass, can’t help but wanna touch it,” you end your words with a firm slap to his ass. jay yelps, looking at you with his annoyed face.

“that’s not nice,” he says, but you can see a hint of a laugh behind his lips.

he wastes no time in getting up and turning you around on the couch, giving your ass the same treatment. except he hits harder, with his large palms making it burn slightly.

“ouch! i didn’t hit yours that hard!”

“don’t hate the player, hate the game.” he continues to smirk while you pout, having been outplayed.

SIM JAEYUN

you and jake are standing in line for ice cream at the park. you’re standing behind him while he mindlessly scrolls through his phone.

you decide to be mischievous and put your hands in his back pockets, the position somewhat awkward but you couldn’t care less.

you can’t see it, but you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks, “you just love touching me don’t you?”

you hum, not moving your hands even as the line moves forward. you and jake don’t really care about pda or people seeing you in public. of course, you’re not animals, so you don’t take it too far but things like this don’t bother you or him.

“baby, what exactly is the point of this?” he asks, turning his head to look behind himself at you. you shrug, leaning into his back before taking his butt into your hands and squeezing hard. he jumps, almost comically, as you laugh quietly, trying not to bring too much attention to yourselves.

“you are so annoying! you’re gonna bruise it!”

you coo, mocking his whiney tone before rubbing it gently to fend off any oncoming injury. “better?” you ask and he hmphs, turning back around. you kiss his cheek apologetically, which makes him smile.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is very sensitive about touch. he doesn’t really like pda but he doesn’t dislike touch as long as it’s private.

you and the enhypen members are hanging out in your apartment. jay has chosen to cook to everyone’s delight. sunghoon is standing by the entrance, watching the tv with everyone else who’s situated on the couches.

you come up to him, looking at him with a pout.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, genuinely concerned. you do nothing but hold your arms out, indicating you want a hug. sunghoon hesitates for a second because he doesn’t like pda, even in front of his members, but one look into your eyes and he’s cooked.

he wraps his arms around you, you doing the same, hugging him tightly. he rests his chin on your head and sighs softly. he could never deny you. without him realizing, your sneaky hands make their way down, down into his back jean pockets.

sunghoon doesn’t even move, either he’s oblivious or he’s ignoring it for your sake, and his. what he doesn’t expect is for you to take his butt into your hands and squeeze, hard.

he jerks forward, taking you by the arms and pulling you away from him. he looks a mix between stunned and annoyed. you start to giggle, making grabby hands at him like you’re gonna do it again but he grabs them, now smiling.

“don’t even think about it, what’s wrong with you?” he asks quietly, not trying to alert the members.

you just stare up at him before surprising him again with a kiss to his lips.

“aww look at the happy couple, i got that whole thing on video by the way,” riki says from his seat on the couch. the other members begin to crowd him, even jay coming from the kitchen after hearing the commotion.

sunghoon breaks away from you, running over to try and wrestle the phone from riki’s hands while you laugh and watch.

KIM SUNOO

you and sunoo are very affectionate with one another, never hesitating to plant kisses on each others lips or cheeks, hug or anything else.

he’s standing in front of your full length mirror, getting ready to go out while you wait for him. as you come to stand behind him, you put your hands into his back pockets. he looks at you through the glass and smiles.

“whatcha doin?” he asks, though he doesn’t make any move to stop you.

“touching my favorite part of you,” you say, laughing as he gaps in offense.

“tuh, and here and i thought it was my personality!”

“that and your ass, i love it.” with that you take your hands out and give his ass a rough slap.

he swears, looking at you with wide eyes.

“okay, you’re done. no more ass privileges for you,” he says, dragging you around so you’re standing in front of him instead of behind.

you begin to whine, apologizing and saying you won’t do it again.

“that’s a damn lie and you know it.”

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon has brought you along to the recording studio while they prepare for their next album. you’re standing in front of him, his arm wrapped around you. you turn around in his arms, smiling at him, “you sound great babe.”

“thank you,” he says, bringing you in for a hug.

you hands rub his back up and down, before making their way lower and lower until they’re hovering over his ass. without warning you put your hands into his back pockets, and squeeze almost violently.

he jumps away from you, looking at you in pure shock. “what the fuck!” he says, laughing, “don’t touch my butt!”

“why?” you cock your head to the side, “i can’t touch what’s mine?” you ask in a questioning tone. he looks at you in disbelief.

“excuse me, it’s not yours.”

“yes it is, what’s yours is mine,” you say, smiling at him.

“oh really?” he raises an eyebrow, “so if that’s the case, what’s yours is mine?” you think he’s gonna go for your ass and bring your hands around to protect it but without hesitation his hands go for your front, squeezing your chest.

you gasp scandalously, “jungwon!”

he just smirks at you, “what’s yours is mine.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you and riki have been dating for a few months now but haven’t really escalated to touching each other frequently. whether it comes to kisses or hugs, you’re still a bit awkward with one another.

you’ve decided to take your relationship up a notch in hopes he won’t oppose you.

today finds you with riki, alone in the dance studio as he practices their choreo. you watch him in amazement. how his body moves, its miraculous and you’re mesmerized.

he pauses the music, coming to stand in front of you, “so what do you think?”

“i think it’s amazing, you’re amazing,” you say.

you know riki likes compliments, he just doesn’t like to show it. he waves his hand, like it’s no big deal but you stand up and open your arms, “hug.”

“i’m sweaty,” he says, “you don’t wanna hug me.”

you shake your head, “don’t care, hug me!”

he can’t deny you, so he moves forward to wrap you in his arms. you rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. your hands make their way down, before finding comfort in his back pockets.

“oh?” he says in a questioning voice, “didn’t know we were at this point in our relationship.”

“can’t help it, i like being close to you.”

“and being close means touching my butt?” you know he’s not annoyed or angry because he’s laughing, so you hum in confirmation. without warning his own hands slide down to cup your own butt.

“now we’re even,” he says, grunting and laughing as you playfully squeeze his ass. and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back.

© AEWON 2024

[papayadays]

just one thing

a/n: a cute little friends to lovers for lando's birthday!

“shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, nearly dropping your phone as it vibrated with a call. the screen had a silly picture of your best friend, lando, thought it was the last thing you wanted to see right now. you pressed the green button, putting the phone on speaker as the light turned green.

“lan, what’s up?” you smiled. “how’s padel with everyone?” you listened as lando told you about the game with a few of his fellow drivers, though you weren’t truly paying attention. you got out of your car, two shopping bags in hand as you took out your spare key to lando’s house, opening the door and heading in.

it was lando’s birthday, and he wasn’t expecting you to see you in monaco today, but you wanted to surprise. so, you bought a plane ticket, rented a car, and drove to lando’s apartment with his presents in tow. you set your suitcase aside, taking out the gifts while also decorating the rooms a bit. you had also gotten a cake as well, wanting your best friend to have the best possible birthday to celebrate his twenty-fifth birthday.

“so what are you doing?” lando asked, bringing you out of your preparations.

your brain whirred, trying to come up with a plausible answer. “i’m, y’know, staying at home, reading a book.”

“right, of course you are,” lando snorted, and you could practically hear his eye roll. at least he bought the lie. “well, i’ll call you soon. i think we’re going to wrap up, so i’ll have some time once i get back home.”

“gotcha,” you replied, a giddy grin on your face as your plan was about to fall into place. “talk to you in a few, lan. and again, happy birthday!” you had called him first thing in the morning before your flight to wish him a happy birthday, though he just assumed you were waking up early for once.

after a short bit, you heard the door opening and footsteps walking in. “lando!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to tackle your best friend in a hug. “happy twenty-fifth birthday!”

at first, lando tensed up, having not expected you to be here. but his shock was replaced by incredulous disbelief, arms wrapping around you tightly. “how are you here?” he asked.

“i flew here, wanted to be here for your birthday,” you told him, eyes meeting his, which crinkled at the corners due to his wide smile. “now, i have some presents for you.”

you gestured to the kitchen island, and as lando followed your gaze, his jaw dropped. “you didn’t have do all of this,” he said. “i don’t need all these presents.”

“you don’t need them, but i wanted to give them to you,” you argued back playfully. “you do the same for me, let me spoil you a little as your best friend.”

after you nudged his shoulder, lando stepped forward and reached out to unwrap his first present, which was a new camera. he opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted teasingly, telling him to open his other presents first.

one by one, lando opened his presents, revealing some clothes, a pair of shoes, a bracelet, a bottle of wine, and a small jellycat stuffed animal for fun. you also had a card that you had written a message in, and you watched lando’s smile widen as he read it.

you observed lando’s reaction as you showed him the custom cake you got with his face on it, making him snicker. “it better taste good,” he muttered good-humoredly.

“so you like everything?” you grinned, wanting to make sure you hadn’t messed anything up. lando chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“i love it, thank you so much,” lando murmured, head resting on your shoulder. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body against yours. glancing up, your eyes met his, a shy smile on your lips.

“you got everything you wanted, lan?” you joked, nudging his side.

lando’s gaze bore into yours, hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. “no, not yet,” he said quietly, gazing at you. “there’s still one thing that i want, so badly.”

your breath hitched as he pulled you an inch closer, eyes never leaving his. “well, you need to tell me, so i can get it for you,” you said, attempting to be playful, though your breathless voice ruined it.

“do i need to spell it out for you?” lando chuckled, one hand reaching out to cup your cheek before sliding down to tilt your chin up. he looked into your eyes again- just to be sure- before asking. “can i?”

“yes.”

and that was all it took. lando’s lips met yours, stealing all the air from your lungs as your hands were pressed flat against his chest, fingertips brushing his shoulders. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t harbored feelings for lando beyond the surface, but never would you have imagined being here. kissing lando, your best friend. and although the thought seemed a bit nerve-inducing, everything about this felt natural.

you two pulled apart, both of you in need of oxygen after the kiss took up what seemed like eternity. “how long?” lando smirked.

“excuse me?” you asked, knowing exactly what he was referring to but deflecting.

“how long have you liked me?” lando clarified, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“for like a few years,” you admitted bashfully, cheeks the lightest shade of pink.

lando’s eyes widened, but not with the judgment you had thought; instead, his eyes were filled with delight and surprise. “so you’re saying if one of us had confessed, we could’ve been together for years?” he questioned, still in shock. you nodded, and lando’s hand reached out to squeeze yours.

“now did you get what you wanted?” you looked at him, wrapping your arms around neck. a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pulled him closer.

“yeah, i did,” lando chuckled, leaning in to press his lips against yours again. your hands carded through his hair, tilting your head as you felt his soft lips on yours. your heart was practically palpitating, butterflies frenzied in your stomach.

as you parted, you leaned your forehead against his. “happy birthday, lan,” you grinned.

lando nodded, breath mingling with yours. “best birthday ever.”

[dixons-sunshine]

Good Job! | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When out gathering supplies with Daryl, he successfully catches your dinner. To show him how proud you were, you bestowed him the highest honour you could at that moment—a sticker.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Prison.

Warnings: Animal death.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/N: Inspired by a post I saw by @darylsdelts. I hope y’all like this!

The sun was shining brightly in the sky. Birds were chirping merrily from their sanctuary in the trees and the air just felt fresher than usual. If it were the old world, you would have spent the day lounging next to some body of water, a cold beverage in your hand as you soaked up the vitamin D the sun provided.

But it was not the old world. Instead of spending the day relaxing or something along those lines, you were instead trudging through the woods in clothes too long to be worn in such intense heat, wearing shoes so heavy you were seriously amazed that people wore them simply because they wanted to before the dead started walking, lugging a duffle bag full of supplies and deadly rifle along with you—a weapon you never would have thought you would be able to handle with the immense skill you now possessed.

Despite all those nuances that, under normal circumstances, would have had you complaining, you could not find it in yourself to do so, because it was not normal circumstances. The harshness of the world run by the dead had toughened your resolve and made you realize that some discomforts definitely were not as bad as you once thought them to be. Sure, you absolutely despised having to eat worms when the situation called for it, but you held your tongue because it was certainly better than the alternative, which was to starve.

Very rarely did you complain about anything nowadays—well, that is, if you did not count in the amount of times you had complained about Glenn’s snoring before, but that was all more in good fun. And a good chunk of what you knew to survive in a world like this was all thanks to the man you were trailing behind; your partner, Daryl Dixon.

As if somehow sensing that you had been thinking of him, Daryl glanced over his shoulder at you, his blue eyes sparkling with a softness reserved only for you.

“You alright back there?” he called back to you, despite already knowing what the answer would be. You were not the type of person to complain much about anything, and that was an attribute about you that he loved.

You nodded your head and adjusted the rifle’s strap over your shoulder. “I’m fine, Dar,” you assured him, sending him a radiant smile.

He nodded his head and turned his attention back in front of him. He kept his crossbow trained in front of him as his eyes searched for any dangers that could be lurking in the shadows, be it a walker, a wild animal, or another person. His main mission was to get the two of you to his bike that had been left abandoned for the time being, as the two of you had been forced to go on foot to the cabin Michonne had come across whilst on her search for the Governor.

The cabin—which had been in pretty decent shape despite being abandoned—had been stocked with supplies. You and Daryl, along with some other people, would have to go back in the morning to get the rest of the supplies. The two of you had stumbled across a metaphorical gold mine.

“So, Daryl,” you began, deeming it safe to strike up a conversation when the man in question grunted in acknowledgement. “What’s your favourite bird?”

The unexpectedness of the question made Daryl chuckle. He shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes trained forward. “I don’ know. Maybe a bluejay?”

You nodded in approval at his choice, although he could not see you do so. “Great choice.”

Daryl hummed, glancing back at you. “Why’d ya ask?” he inquired. However, his attention got diverted when he heard something in the distance, his senses jumping to high alert.

“Just curious, is all.” You transferred the duffle bag from your one hand into the other, nearly sighing in relief when the blood began circulating through it again. “What—”

“Shh,” he shushed you quietly, instantly shutting you up. He motioned for you to stay put as he quietly stalked towards the bush where the source of the noise was, his crossbow raised and ready to be fired at a moment’s notice.

The perpetrator quickly got revealed in the form of a raccoon when Daryl pulled the leaves back. It hissed up at the archer, but it quickly got silenced when one of Daryl’s bolts pierced through its body. The pained whimper it let out right before it died made your heart ache a bit, but you quickly reminded yourself that it was necessary. It meant that there was the slightest bit more nutrition to bring back to the prison. Its death would not be in vain.

Daryl picked up his bolt, the raccoon’s body sat on it, before turning back to you. He simply raised the arrow a bit, shrugging a bit as he looked at you.

“Got us our dinner,” he said simply, as if it was the most natural thing to say.

You laughed lightly at him, shaking your head. However, it was as if a lightbulb went of in your head. Placing the duffle bag on the ground, you leaned down and zipped it open before rummaging through multiple cans of food and other supplies, in search of something you had bagged for little Judith to play with.

“Ah-ha!” you exclaimed victoriously when you found it, taking it out of the bag to reveal a small sticker book. You stepped towards your partner while flipping through the pages, searching for the sticker you had spotted when you had initially looked through it the first time.

You found it after a few moments. You gently peeled the sticker off of the page and pressed it against the archer’s beloved vest, the bright, neon-like yellow ‘good job!’ standing out against the gray leather. You smiled and gently patted his chest, before taking a step back.

“Good job,” you repeated the words on the sticker, giggling to yourself.

Daryl rolled his eyes at you, but he could not help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks,” he drawled sarcastically, trying not to laugh at the silliness of the situation. “S’much appreciated.”

“Oh, come on. I know you love it,” you told him through your small fits of laughter, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

Daryl simply shook his head. “You’re ridiculous, ya know that?” Despite his words, he could not help the warmth that bloomed in his chest. He felt oddly touched by the small gesture, felt appreciated. He could not explain it.

You laughed and picked up the bag again, before beginning to walk again. “Yeah, but you love that about me.”

Among a lot of other things, Daryl thought to himself. However, he shook the thought from his mind and caught up with you, this time falling into step beside you rather than being in the lead.

As the two of you walked the remaining short distance to Daryl’s bike, with you striking up another conversation, Daryl simply admired you. He felt like the luckiest man alive for being able to say that you were his girl.

And if he got teased by the members of his found family for the sticker that remained on his vest for the rest of that day, he could not have cared less.

Taglist: @holdmytesseract @thevegandarkelf (comment/DM/inbox me to be added/removed!)

[ha-rinrin]

Family at Rest

Summary: it's bed time!!

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!reader

wordcount: 468

Authors note: I know this is short af but don't worry there will probably be an extended version. writing about Isha and Jinx gives me so much serotonin is hard to explain, I just love them so much.

masterlist

You’re winding down for the night with Jinx, Isha, and Isha’s small body curled against Jinx’s side. It’s one of those rare, peaceful evenings where the usual unpredictability of the day has finally mellowed out. You’re sitting on the bed in your shared bedroom, brushing out your hair, while Jinx is sprawled out beside you, already in her favorite oversized shirt, looking more relaxed than usual. Isha, her hair messy from play and her small form wrapped in her pajamas, is curled up against Jinx’s side, one of her tiny hands clutching her stuffed animal as she dozes peacefully.

Jinx rolls over onto her back and reaches her arms out, her fingertips lightly brushing your side. “Hey, c’mere,” she says, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she tugs you closer. “You’re not getting out of cuddling duty tonight.”

You smile, setting the brush aside and scooting closer to her. Jinx shifts a bit, pulling you against her, with Isha still nestled against her side, her head resting lightly on Jinx’s shoulder. You lean into Jinx, your head finding the crook of her neck as her fingers trace gentle circles along your shoulder. Her blue eyes watch you with a softness that she only shows to you. “Long day?” you ask, your voice low in the calm of the room.

She sighs, nodding slightly. “Yeah, but it’s better now. It’s better with you here.” She smirks, her usual spark lighting up as she glances down at Isha, who is still sound asleep against her side, breathing steadily. “Even Isha’s in on the love fest.”

You laugh softly, reaching over to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind Isha’s ear. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, a peaceful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Jinx shifts again, nudging you with her shoulder. “Let’s do that thing where we talk about the best parts of the day,” she suggests, her tone soft. “It’s cheesy, I know, but… I kinda like it.”

You nod, smiling. “Alright, you first.”

She thinks for a moment, her expression softening as she looks down at Isha, then back at you. “Easy. Right now,” she says, threading her fingers through yours and squeezing lightly. “Being here with you and Isha, even if you’ve made me all soft.”

You lean over and press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I love soft Jinx,” you whisper, making her roll her eyes with a grin, though she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she carefully shifts, adjusting her arm around both of you so Isha stays tucked against her side, still peaceful in her sleep.

The three of you settle into the quiet of the night, the warmth of your little family filling the room as sleep slowly takes over. The chaos of the day feels far away, wrapped in the love and comfort you’ve found together.

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕩

Warning: Angst/comfort/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words left his lips as soon as he sat down across from her. His voice was low, full of regret, but the moment they left him, he regretted them. He could already feel the weight of her anger pressing down on him.

“Sorry for what exactly, Chan?” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dripped with venom. “For leaving me for dead?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart tightened painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t find his voice. If only she knew...

“I didn’t leave you for dead... I promise.” His voice was a soft whisper, as if he were speaking to himself. He shut his eyes, willing away the pain that threatened to swallow him.

“Then what exactly is it?” She scoffed, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her eyes flashed with an intensity that made his chest tighten even more. “What’s your excuse?”

“Can... can you let me explain?” His words came out barely above a whisper, but there was a pleading tone to them. He needed her to understand—needed to make her see that he never meant for things to turn out this way.

She tilted her head, studying him for a long, hard moment. “You guys were at the territory line, right? You could smell my scent... and yet you chose to ignore it. You could hear my screams through the bond, but you chose to ignore that too,” she said, each word sharper than the last. Her anger was building, and it felt like it was radiating off her, burning everything in its path.

She was right—and wrong—and it ate at him.

He felt the weight of her words, but there was so much more she didn’t know.

“Oh, Y/N… if you only knew…” Chan thought to himself, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

“That’s not what happened!” The words came out more forcefully than he intended, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “Just... let me explain. Please.”

He couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall now. The overwhelming guilt, the helplessness—it all came rushing back, and he couldn’t stop it.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Y/N said bitterly, her arms still crossed, her gaze as hard as stone. She leaned back, her eyes never leaving him. The challenge in her words was clear—prove it.

Chan took a shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he had been holding in for so long. He wasn’t sure how to start, but the words felt too important to rush.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hyung, look at this! Changbin’s voice boasted through the bond, brimming with excitement. He was a few meters away from Chan and LeeKnow, clearly having found something unusual.

What is it? Chan asked, his paws deep in the soil as he worked on scent-marking the perimeter of their territory. The branches around him swayed gently, brushing against his fur.

I just found this… dead… deer? Changbin tilted his head, trying to get a better smell of the carcass, his nose twitching in confusion.

Deer? We never have deer here… Chan responded, perplexed. Wait—don’t touch it! His ears pricked up, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone.

Chan’s body tensed, and he moved swiftly, using his heightened senses to track Changbin’s scent. As he closed the distance, he could feel the hairs along his neck stand on end. When he finally arrived, the sight before him took him by surprise.

Why is there a deer here? Chan questioned, his voice low, almost growling, as he scanned the area. The animal’s body lay unnaturally far from their territory line, and it was disturbing—too far beyond the boundaries of where it should have been.

Do you think someone was here? Changbin asked, circling the lifeless creature, sniffing cautiously.

I can’t smell any other scents, Chan growled, his gut twisting with unease. Something didn’t feel right. His nose was sharp—too sharp—and he knew this land like the back of his paw. There had never been a deer this far into their territory, much less one lying dead.

Stay alert, Chan warned, his voice tightening as a sense of danger gnawed at him.

Changbin nuzzled his snout into Chan’s side in silent understanding before scanning the perimeter, his tail flicking nervously.

I don’t have a good feeling about this, Changbin growled quietly.

“I know. Neither do I,” Chan agreed, taking a few cautious steps away from the deer’s body. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

It was then that a twig snapped nearby. Chan’s reflexes were lightning fast. He growled, stepping in front of Changbin, his body tensing as he prepared for whatever threat was coming.

It’s just me, hyung. Can’t you smell me? LeeKnow emerged from the bushes, laughing softly, clearly unaware of how close he had come to putting himself in danger.

LeeKnow! Don’t do that! Chan’s voice was a low, furious growl. Oh my God, you almost got yourself killed! He snapped, heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, LeeKnow quickly apologized, his voice sheepish, but his curiosity got the better of him. I thought you could hear me... I was pretty loud. What’s going on here? Wait—is that a deer? His eyes widened in disbelief.

Yeah, exactly, Chan muttered, still shaken. That’s why we’re on high alert. But I didn’t smell you. In fact… I don’t smell anything. His voice trailed off in confusion, his eyes narrowing as his senses felt off, almost muted. What was going on with his ability to smell?

LeeKnow’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, sniffing the air. Hyung… I don’t have a good feeling about this.

Okay, let’s just go back to the territory line, Chan replied, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness and unease. Where’s Y/N? I don’t feel good having her this far out. His thoughts were racing. She shouldn’t be anywhere near this strange scene.

She’s picking strawberries by the wild gardens… LeeKnow replied.

Okay, go get her and—

Before Chan could finish his sentence, a sweet, unfamiliar scent filled the air. It was intoxicating, heavy and thick, like something dangerous. Chan’s heart began to race in his chest, his head spinning. What is that?

I don’t feel well, Changbin groaned, rubbing his nose with his paw. The world around them seemed to tilt, and Chan’s body started to feel sluggish, his legs unsteady.

His senses began to dull, and the world around him seemed to blur.

I can’t feel my legs… LeeKnow’s voice was panicked. His body trembled as he tried to move, but his limbs felt frozen.

Shit… It’s a trap, Chan realized too late, his stomach dropping. The sweet scent—the drugging, overpowering smell—it wasn’t just a random scent. It was a weapon.

Changbin! LeeKnow! Can you hear me?! Chan’s voice cracked with fear, the adrenaline flooding his bloodstream as he tried to move. His paws were heavy, his vision swimming. He had heard about this—heard the older Ummas in the village speak in hushed voices about poison or sedative gases. But never had he expected it to happen to them.

Changbin?! LeeKnow?! he cried out, his voice desperate, but there was no response. The two of them were collapsing, just as he was.

Chan felt his body buckle beneath him, his strength draining away as the toxin infiltrated his bloodstream. The world around him slowed to a crawl. His vision blurred, his eyes fluttering. The last thing he saw was a figure—human, but somehow otherworldly—moving toward him.

The figure knelt beside him, their face twisted into a mocking smirk. “Oh, the mighty alpha… can’t even protect his luna,” they said, their voice dripping with disdain.

Luna. The word hit him like a punch to the gut.

His heart skipped a beat. Y/N. She was out there, alone, and he couldn’t do anything.

Chan’s vision faded completely as the darkness claimed him. His body went limp, unconscious, the last coherent thought in his mind that Y/N was in danger.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“And so when we woke up, we searched for you everywhere,” Chan’s voice cracked as he spoke, his chest tightening with the weight of the memories. “Through the forest, the waterfall, everywhere we could think of, but your scent was so faint. The rogues—” he stopped, his breath shaky. “The rogues didn’t have any scent. We searched all day, non-stop, until we had no choice but to come back. The betas and omegas were freaking out. We were exhausted and starving.”

Chan’s eyes welled up with tears, his voice breaking. “I never stopped looking for you, Y/N. You have to believe me. I never gave up. I thought about you every second, every day... and I couldn’t stop searching for you.”

Y/N’s eyes glowed golden, a flash of anger and hurt in her gaze. She could feel the heat rising in her chest, the pain she had carried all this time surfacing. She had thought they weren’t looking for her, that they had abandoned her. The rogues had filled her head with lies, convincing her that no one was coming for her. But now, hearing Chan’s words, everything she had believed was shattering.

“So… so they set you guys up?” Y/N sniffled, her voice trembling as she looked up at the alpha sitting across from her. Chan was slouched on the couch, his sweatpants and black vest a stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” Chan said softly, his voice low with suppressed anger. “They did. And they had been planning on taking you.” He clenched his fists, the memory of the betrayal still raw. “When I found them—” he stopped, the words heavy on his tongue.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “You... you killed them?” She gasped, her eyes widening with a mix of relief and awe. For a moment, she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.

“Yes.” Chan nodded grimly. “After you came back and... after seeing what they had done to you, I couldn’t let them live. I tracked them down with Mark and the hyungs. We found their den, and we killed them.” He exhaled sharply, the memory of the violence still fresh in his mind. “I couldn’t let them walk away after what they did to you... not after what they did to us.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders trembling as the tears began to fall. The enormity of what Chan had done for her hit her like a ton of bricks. He had gone through so much, fought so hard—for her. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt flood her heart. She had been so focused on her own pain, on her own suffering, that she hadn’t once thought about what he had gone through. What he had endured.

“Channie, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, the words barely leaving her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with regret.

Chan’s gaze softened. His hands trembled as he reached out toward her, but he hesitated, unsure if she would want him to touch her. “Please... don’t apologize,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Never apologize. It’s not your fault.”

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling faster. “No, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was awful to you. I thought you didn’t care. I thought you gave up on finding me, and... I just... I was in so much pain. I still am. I’m angry at the world, Channie. But I hope you can forgive me for everything.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t need you to forgive me,” Chan said softly, his voice full of warmth and understanding. “I understand, my love. I know you were in a state... a state no one should have to endure. I don’t blame you. Not at all. I should’ve been there for you, even when you pushed me away. I should’ve stayed by your side.” His voice trembled as he spoke, and his eyes darkened with the guilt of not being able to protect her. “I just... I can’t see you in pain anymore. I want to help you heal.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she reached her hand out toward him. Chan looked at her, surprised, but then slowly he took her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, it was like electricity running through their veins. They were connected—alpha and omega—and this simple act of holding hands was enough to send a wave of relief through both of them.

“I don’t think you need to apologize either, Channie,” Y/N said, her voice more stable now, though still laced with sadness. “I think we both went through mentally and physically draining situations. I just... I can’t help but ask the Moon Goddess why. But I know she will have answers. I want to move forward. I want to put this behind us.” She paused, her chest tightening with emotion as she struggled to speak through her sobs. “I want to be a part of the pack again. I want to be normal.”

Chan pulled her into his arms, wrapping his strong arms around her as he held her close. He hoped she would let him, he hoped she would feel the comfort in his embrace. “I understand, my love. I ask the Moon Goddess every day why... but all I want is for you to heal. To feel better. I don’t want you to rush into anything, though. It gets overwhelming, but I’m right here. I promise.” He kissed her temple gently, letting the warmth of his affection seep into her.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt. “I’m sorry about losing the pup, Channie.” She choked on her sobs, her words trembling with grief. “I tried to protect her. I tried to shield her from it all, but they just... they kept going.”

Chan’s heart shattered hearing her cry like this. He gently cupped both sides of her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears. His voice was firm and full of love. “Baby, I will never blame you for that. Do you hear me? Never. It was not your fault. I know it hurts, but I pray you’ll understand that.”

Y/N’s heart was breaking, but she nodded, pressing closer to him. “I just... I just know it’ll be heavy to get past. I don’t think I’ll love another pup the way I loved her. She was our first…” She trailed off, her voice lost in the depth of her sorrow.

Chan held her tighter, his heart aching for her. “Time will heal us, my love. Everything will get better. I promise. We’ll get through this together.”

Y/N wiped the tears from his face as she pulled back slightly, her scent calming, though still tinged with sadness. She gave him a small, tender smile. “Thank you... for being here. For loving me through all of this.”

Chan smiled back, his eyes filled with devotion and hope for the future. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. No matter what.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Chan finally felt like he could breathe again. After everything they’d been through, after the pain, the misunderstandings, and the distance—he had finally reconnected with his luna. They had talked it all out, and in that moment, something inside him shifted. The weight he’d carried for so long—worry, guilt, fear—began to lift. He no longer feared that she might hate him, or that the rift between them would be impossible to mend.

He could finally sleep tonight, he thought, with peace in his heart.

His hand moved gently to trace circles on her arm, the motion soothing both of them. He didn’t know how long they’d been lying there, but it felt like time had slowed, like nothing else existed in the world but the quiet warmth of her presence.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His heart pounded in his chest, the words carrying everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes soft and full of tenderness, her expression mirroring his. “I love you too, my love.” Her voice was steady, but there was a catch in it—a vulnerability that made Chan’s chest tighten with affection.

And then, in that quiet, intimate space between them, Chan’s eyes welled up with tears.

All the anger, the frustration, the guilt, and the sadness that had consumed him for so long seemed to melt away in a single moment. With Y/N’s love, with her forgiveness, all the heavy emotions that had weighed down on him for so long evaporated.

She was back in his arms—officially—and nothing in the world could have felt more right.

Chan felt her warmth against him, her heartbeat steady and calm, and he realized with a deep breath that he would do whatever it took to help her grieve, to help her heal. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He wasn’t going to lose her again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: i think its time to end this mini series guysss >_<

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[tmntxthings]

一∑From the Start・゜・。

author’s notes: scurries in from the darkness, throws this > 💣 < out into the light, and runs back for cover 💥

warnings: unedited, angst, drabble, unrequited love, pining, daydreams, cliffhanger

—————————————————————————

When Leo invited you down to the lair to hang out, you had thought maybe it would be a movie thing. Or perhaps even going to the ramp room, chatting while he practiced skateboarding tricks that almost always ended badly with bruises. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had dragged you into the kitchen to whip up something to eat or just snack on whatever the two of you could find.

But no, instead, he led you to his room, with a skip in his step. When you questioned why it had to be just the two of you. Why all of his brothers were rolling their eyes in Leo’s direction. He just shook his head, “I can’t tell anyone else! You’re the only one I can trust!” It was then, that you had a sinking feeling.

This scenario had happened before. Many times actually. You glanced back at the bros, exasperated already and you hadn’t even heard anything yet. But you knew.

Once in his room, Leo let go of you, and jumped face first into his bed. He let out a dramatic screech, kicking to boot before he turned to the ceiling and announced, “I’ve got a crush,”

You held back a sigh as you walked over to the only chair in his room. Pulled it out from under the desk, and sat, getting ready for the long haul. “Who and how?”

He really hadn’t even needed the question. He was off to the races explaining exactly how he had met ~them~ and all the moments after, from whence his heart first skipped a beat, the beauty that they hold, how they laugh at all his jokes. Your eyes clouded over.

This was pure torture. As your eyes unfocused, you let your train of thought wander away from Leo’s babbling fancies. Truly you’d lost count of how many times this had happened before. It was always the same things that made his heart flutter. That made him go crazy, so much so, that he’d tire out his brothers from all the lovesick shenanigans and bring you into the mix.

Which was like listening to chalk squeak against a chalkboard. Shrill and grating. If you didn’t tune it out, you’d go crazy yourself. Because it was despicable to listen to your own crush, talk about how much they wanted someone else.

For a second, you could just blink, look over at him, and pretend he wasn’t saying anything of consequence. “Blah blah blah,” his mouth moved, but you weren’t listening. That was better. It was unfair how pretty he could be. Especially when he was happy, especially when he was falling hard. The way he smiled, how his eyes shined. His hands couldn’t stop moving, he just had to animate with his whole body about how he felt. Your knee started to bounce. He was being cruel and he didn’t even realize it.

It wasn’t fair. But then again, how would he ever know unless you told him? You imagined what it would be like. To interrupt him. To confess your love. He’d probably laugh in your face. Ha what a great joke Y/n, now get real and back to my love crisis. That’s what he’d say. Or something along the lines of it.

But sometimes you could imagine him pausing completely. Getting taken so off guard that he no longer had the words to respond. That maybe he’d look at you with a different light. So maybe that was why you did it. On the off chance that, maybe, Leo had always harbored something for you too. Just deep down! So deep that he felt the need to hide it with all of these other so called crushes.

“Leo!”

He blinked and sat up from where he had been laying, interrupting his tangent.

“What?!”

Straightforward. That would be the best route.

“I like you.” Your eyes were steady, yet your heart raced. It was thundering in your chest as you watched one of his brow bones raise.

“I like you too Y/n” he said so as if it was obvious. Which meant he was misunderstanding.

“No no, not like that. I like you.” You strained with the emphasis as you willed his thick skull to understand. And it must’ve gotten through because his eyes widened just a bit.

“You like me?” He questioned, sitting up even straighter than before. Now you had his attention. And you could feel sweat building up in your palms as you nodded seriously.

“But, we’re best friends..” and you could’ve let that shoot you down. But you continued on. Getting up from your spot, from the single chair, and making your way over to him. Despite how every step made you second guess yourself. Despite thinking maybe it was a better idea to just run out of his room. Or to just settle for the friendship you thought you had wanted.

But you pushed through it all as you sat down next to him. “We are. You’re my best friend Leo. And I, maybe I’m greedy, but I can’t help it. I’ve liked you for so long now. And I don’t think I can just sit idly by anymore.”

You took a breath, palms closing into fists. Eyes closing because if he was going to reject you, it’d be better to not see the pity on his face. You piped up once more before he could say anything, “Every time you talk about your crushes, I can’t help but think, but wish, that it were me! And every time you get over one, I get ahead of myself, I hope that maybe, one day, you’ll look at me differently!”

There was so much you could say. So many different ways to say it. But that was the gist. “That… you’ll like me like that. That you’ll return the feelings I’ve felt for you,” you blew out a breath. Then looked into his eyes.

Leo was rarely ever serious but he was now. “I never knew…” he said softly after a moment of silence. Of taking in all that you had revealed. You nodded not knowing what that meant for your relationship with him now. And the fear of losing him forever leaked onto your face. His eyes softened, a green hand going out to cup your cheek.

“I wish I’d known sooner,” and with that he brushed a finger against your skin. He looked down at your lips as they parted with a shocked breath. He smirked, as only Leo could, and leaned down with a silent question that had you tilting your head to give him better access to your lips.

“Y/n are you even listening to me?”

You blinked.

“Huh?”

You were in the single chair.

“Hello! Earth to Y/n, this is like the biggest moment of my life, I’m telling you I think they may be the one!! Come on focus!!”

Right. You straightened up, crossing a leg over the knee that wouldn’t stop bouncing.

“Sorry, go on,”

And he blinded you with that smile as he retold all of the sickening things that made him so endeared to his crush. If only it wasn’t so endearing to you.

—————————————————————————

This ↓ is why this ↑ came about :D

[pandapetals]

The Wolverine

You tell Logan about the myth of the Wolverine.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: Im sad that logan doesn't remember kayla. She deserved better, well both of them did. So i wrote this for her. I did some googling and found in Innu culture they see the wolverine in a few different ways so i took that and ran with it.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

You were curled up in the oversized armchair on the balcony, wrapped in a soft blanket, gazing out over the garden bathed in silvery moonlight. The stars sparkled overhead, scattered across the sky like tiny, far-off promises, casting a gentle glow over everything. Logan sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles along your upper arm.

After a comfortable stretch of silence, you let out a quiet sigh, eyes still fixed on the stars. "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, you know? Studying literature. Maybe I should’ve gone into astronomy instead." You paused, a small smile playing on your lips. "Stars are just so beautiful. There’s so much out there."

Logan chuckled, a low, warm sound that rumbled through his chest. "Oh yeah? So you could spend your days talkin’ about constellations and meteors? Think I’d go crazy, darlin’."

You nudged him playfully. "Oh, because listening to you ramble about ancient battles and military strategies is so riveting."

He smirked, tilting his head down to look at you. "Hey, at least I know how to make it interesting."

You rolled your eyes, leaning into him a little more. "Sure, you do, tough guy." After a moment, you tilted your head back to the sky, the light of the stars casting a soft glow in your eyes. "But, really... I've always wondered. Why Wolverine? I get the whole 'fierce and growly' thing, but it’s oddly specific."

Logan gave you a look, a playful warning in his gaze. "Watch it, sweetheart," he drawled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked back out over the garden. "Truth is… I’m not sure where it came from. Can’t remember. Might’ve been ‘cause I was a… well, an animal. Felt like one back then, anyway."

You reached over, resting a gentle hand on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not an animal, Logan," you said softly, your voice filled with quiet conviction. "You never were."

He let out a faint sigh as if he didn’t fully believe you, though he appreciated the sentiment. "Maybe not," he murmured, his gaze drifting back to the stars. "But it sure felt like it sometimes."

A peaceful silence settled between you, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, watching the stars glitter above. "Did you know," you said softly after a moment, "that in one Innu legend, the wolverine was actually a creator of the world?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking down at you with a skeptical smirk. "Now you’re makin’ stuff up."

You laughed, nudging him again. "I swear! It’s true. According to the story, the wolverine built a boat to save the animals from a great flood. Then he told a mink to dive into the water and gather mud, and he used it to create an island. That island eventually became the whole world."

Logan shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You always gotta turn everything into a story, don’t you?"

You grinned, looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye. "I can’t help it. It’s what I do." You paused, then added, "There’s another story that says the Wolverine tried to steal light from the midnight sky. He fashioned bits of it into the sun, moon, and stars, creating the northern lights. Kind of fitting, don’t you think? A wolverine bringing light to the world."

Logan looked at you, amusement and something deeper flickering in his eyes. "You got quite the imagination, you know that?"

"Comes with the job," you teased, snuggling closer, resting your head on his chest. "But honestly… you bring light to people too, Logan. Even if you don’t see it. You’re gruff, sure, but there’s a big heart under all that scowling."

He huffed, though his chest rumbled with a laugh as his fingers absentmindedly traced circles along your shoulder. "You’re really layin’ it on thick tonight, aren’t ya?"

"Just stating the facts," you replied, looking up at him with a grin. "You’re kind of like the stars. Tough on the outside, but warm and steady when people need you most."

Logan’s gaze softened, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as he looked down at you. "If that’s how you see me… guess I can’t argue."

You smirked, snuggling back into his chest. "See? Not so bad being the wolverine, is it?"

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Guess not," he murmured, his voice low and comforting. "Not if it means sittin’ here with you under these stars."

You looked up at him, eyes twinkling with playful warmth as you took in the way the moonlight softened his rough edges. "Who would’ve thought?" you whispered with a teasing lilt. "That the Wolverine could be more than just a trickster… that he could be gentle, even thoughtful."

Logan let out a low, skeptical chuckle, giving you a look that was both amused and exasperated. "Oh, is that so?" he rumbled, his voice a soft, low vibration beneath your cheek. "Here I thought I was just some ornery old fighter."

You chuckled, reaching up to trace a finger along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. "You’re definitely more than that. There’s a lot more to you than the tough-guy act. There’s… heart, kindness." You paused, smirking as you added, "Though the ‘ornery old fighter’ part is pretty accurate."

He let out a mock sigh, though his eyes glimmered with affection. "Don’t push it," he muttered, pulling you closer as he looked down at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile.

You shifted slightly, resting your chin on his chest so you could look up at him. "You know, in some stories, the wolverine’s not just a trickster. He’s a protector. Fierce, unyielding. The one who keeps everyone safe, no matter what."

Logan’s eyes softened, and he reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek as he gazed down at you. "So you see me as some kinda myth, huh?" he murmured, his voice low, almost vulnerable. "Better be careful, sweetheart. I’m just a man, remember?"

You smiled, covering his hand with yours. "Oh, I know," you whispered, your voice tender. "But you’re my myth, Logan. My hero. The one who showed me what real strength looks like."

For a moment, he looked taken aback, his usual composure slipping as he took in your words. Then, his gaze dropped, as if the weight of your affection was almost too much to bear. "You say all that… but sometimes I still feel like a lost soul," he murmured, his voice rough. "Someone who didn’t know where he belonged."

You cupped his face, guiding his eyes back to yours. "You belong right here," you whispered, your thumb tracing his cheek. "With me. Right where you’re supposed to be."

A soft, genuine smile played on his lips as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "Damn, darlin’," he muttered, his voice barely more than a rumble. "You’re gonna make me go soft."

You laughed, brushing a gentle kiss against his lips. "Too late for that," you teased, smiling against his mouth. "I think I’ve already uncovered the soft side of the Wolverine."

He rolled his eyes, but his hand found yours, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as he brought your hand to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his gaze warm and unguarded. "You really make people question my reputation, you know that?" he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, am I ruining your whole 'grumpy lone wolf' image?" you teased, grinning up at him.

Logan pretended to be annoyed, though his eyes sparkled with affection. "Damn right, you are," he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Can’t go anywhere without folks thinkin’ I’m a softy now."

You leaned in, your face close to his, your smile teasing. "Well, maybe you are.”

He let out a low chuckle, pulling you even closer, his arm secure around you. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered, his thumb brushing over your hand. "Otherwise, I might actually be annoyed."

You looked up at him, your heart full, and whispered, "I think you’re cute too, even if you try to hide it."

He groaned, tipping his head back. "There goes my whole reputation," he said, but when he looked back down at you, his gaze was filled with warmth, something so genuine that it made your heart skip a beat.

You squeezed his hand, giving him a playful smile. "Good.” You grinned, closing the small distance between you and kissing him, slow and sweet, letting the world fall away. When you finally pulled back, he was looking at you with a smile so genuine it made your heart skip.

"Happy?" he asked, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as you both gazed out at the stars. "Always, with you."

[my-religion-greek-myth]

Freedom far away

It's been burning my brain ever since the finale of Agatha All Along.

This blog isn't for the writing purpose but I'm bending my own rule in the name of Agatha XD. I might upload one more if I can organise my imagination on these two

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

You were the firstborn of an esteemed aristocratic house, a position that brought both privilege and a constant, heavy gaze upon you. Eyes followed every room you entered and every event you attended. Though the title of heir would never be yours solely because you were a lady, it never seemed to matter to those around you. They treated you as if the future of the house rested upon your shoulders. The elders murmured of marriage alliances with royalty or influential families, whispering that your union could change the fate of your house. Other noble families saw you as a formidable rival, watching closely, ever-ready to seize on the slightest misstep, to turn it into fodder for gossip and criticism.

But you despised the role thrust upon you. While others revered the traditions, the traditional rules and propriety that dictated your every action, you only saw them as chains, binding you to a life scripted long before you were born. You longed to live on your terms, laugh freely, speak without calculation, and defy the mould others sought to press you into. You knew well that the path to freedom would not be simple—but that only made the dream burn brighter.

Besides, you possessed a power that would bring fear and scorn if anyone found out. In a world so bound by tradition and superstition, it was a power that might get you branded as a freak or, worse, stoned to death. You knew the origin of this ability, even if the elders dared not mention it. One of your ancestors had been a shaman, a fact buried under layers of silence and shame. Shamans were both revered and despised—consulted in times of desperation, yet viewed with suspicion and disdain due to their mysterious power.

Only your parents and siblings knew of your gift; not even the current lord of the household, your grandfather, had any inkling. You could command animals, bending them to your will. It had always been that way. At first, it simply seemed that animals were drawn to you. Birds would land beside you without fear, perching on your shoulder or finger. Dogs and cats would flock around you whenever you went outside, rolling onto their backs, begging for your touch. When an agitated horse reared at the central market, a single whisper from you could calm it. It was a charming quirk to everyone else—a testament to your vibrant, gentle nature. But you knew better. This wasn’t mere kindness; it was a hidden power that connected you to the earth's creatures in a way no one else could understand.

But then, it did not matter.

You sighed deeply, resting your chin on your hand. If anyone from the household saw you like this, they would scold you, demanding you act like a noble lady and not lounge on the ground like some street thug in your fine dress. The thought made you scoff.

Earlier, you had overheard a conversation between your grandfather and parents about a potential marriage proposal, and as soon as the word "marriage" came up, you’d bolted from the house. You ignored the calls of your servants and dashed out, uncaring of the stares you attracted along the way.

You kept running, heading toward the edge of the city to the well at the foot of the mountain, next to an ancient willow tree. It was a public place but one where you felt most free. Hardly anyone came here, as it was too remote, and many were scared in case of tigers coming down from the mountain. There was another well closer to the city centre where people preferred gathering and drinking water. Besides, this well was near a shaman’s house, marked by the colourful ribbons tied to the trees nearby—a symbol of ritual and mysticism that kept most people away.

You savoured the solitude of this place, where you could escape the eyes and expectations of others, if only for a moment. Then, you saw them; a couple approaching the well where you sat. The man was wearing a garment in a shade between blue and green, a black fan flicking in his right hand as he spoke. The woman beside him was clad in a dignified violet and purple dress, her posture commanding, though her face was drawn into a faint scowl. They seemed to be in a heated exchange—not quite arguing, but the woman was rolling her eyes while the man chuckled, clearly amused by whatever they were discussing.

As they came closer, a realisation struck you. The man's voice… it was softer, lighter than you had expected, almost too gentle to belong to an adult man. In fact, there was something subtly feminine about him, something that made you look again. He moved with an effortless grace, and though his features held a certain softness.

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity. Strangers rarely ventured to this remote spot—especially not ones with the dignified grace this pair exuded. As they noticed you, the man gave a slight nod, acknowledging your presence, while the woman raised a single eyebrow, appraising you with an air of amusement. Despite your longing for freedom, the ingrained teachings of etiquette tugged at you, urging you to be polite. You rose to your feet as gracefully as you could manage, offering them a courteous greeting. The man’s dark brown eyes were warm, but behind their softness, you saw a glint of sharp intelligence and a touch of mischief, as though he saw through everything around him. Then, your gaze fell upon the woman. Her eyes—a striking shade of blue—were unlike any you had seen before, deep and captivating, like the ocean’s endless expanse. You found yourself unable to look away, entranced by their beauty. Noticing your gaze, she offered you a small, knowing smile, soft yet tinged with a subtle seductiveness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Why would a noble lady be here without anyone to protect you?" the man asked, his gaze drifting over the surrounding deep mountains looming over them.

Hearing his voice so clearly, you began to suspect the man was, in fact, a woman. Her voice was captivating, with a rich, melodic quality, yet there was a subtle softness in her frame—a faint curve at her chest that might go unnoticed by most.

"I always come here," you touched your wrist. "Whenever I feel the need of an escape." You leaned back against the well, feeling the cool stone pressing into your back, grounding you.

The woman exchanged a look with her companion before shifting closer and leaning against the well wall beside you. She gave you a mischievous smile. "Wanna talk about it, doll?"

"I don't even know you," you replied cautiously, sizing them up.

Both exuded a quiet authority, an unmistakable presence. It was obvious they were not ordinary travellers—they bore the poise and refinement of nobility. But were they friends or potential adversaries?

The woman in men’s clothing smiled, her eyes briefly darkening as a cloud cast a fleeting shadow over the sun.

“I’m Rio,” she said, her voice lilting like a soft melody as if each syllable held a secret. Her gaze slid toward the woman standing beside you.

“I’m Agatha,” came the whispered reply, the words warm and close, her fingers grazing yours, sending a shiver of electricity down your spine.

"Rio, Agatha," you murmured, savouring the unfamiliar rhythm of their names as they lingered on your tongue.

This was how you met them, how they welcomed you into their embrace. And it was at this moment that your status as a noble began to crumble, all in the name of seeking freedom. To be with them.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

This is why I hate him

my way of saying thanks for 500+ kudos!

“You did what?!” the king’s voice rang through the secret corridor. The figures winced, stepping back as green energy snaked across the floor and past them into the surrounding darkness. 

The figures promptly backed away, as a sharp crunch was heard beneath their feet. Drawing their breaths, several cast their gaze towards the floor, catching sight of the various pieces of stone hands, feet, fingers, and body parts that littered the room.

“You-,” he started. His viridescent eyes narrowed as his voice lowered to a whisper. “Had one simple little job.”

He took one slow step forward then another. “Apprehend the girl.”

“Alter her memories,” he whispered as the torch’s flame flickered and lowered as he neared, nearly appearing more shadow than man as his eyes glowed. “wipe them clean if you had to!” 

His staff eerily glowed a sickly green as the torch’s flames flickered back to life, illuminating the figures standing against the wall.

“It was so simple!” he seethed as the tunnel’s floor trembled. 

“She has no powers. No rank or significance to speak of and yet none of you could even get it right!” he yelled, slamming the floor with the end of his staff as his powers coiled and slithered through the ground once more. Several pieces of statues and stone broke as the king’s power dissipated leaving the air with a sickly warmth as the figures looked on.

“Please your Highness-,” a figure started, as the others cowered behind him. “H-h-have mercy!”

The king’s grip on his staff tightened as he tensed. His brows furrowed with thought as he stared at the statue shards on the ground, seemingly lost in thought.

Silence greeted them all once more as they watched him walk away. His footsteps echoed through the room as he took a deep breath and leaned against the desk that had been neatly placed near the cauldron.

He took in one deep breath, then another as he muttered something to himself before shaking his head. “Idiots. What am I even paying you for?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” he snapped, turning to the only person in the room who could bravely say such a thing to him.

The headmistress shrugged, unfastening the belt around her waist before she carefully placed a small glowing vial on the table. “You’re not paying any of them anything, remember? They don’t even have dental.”

The king huffed. “Well, maybe they would if they were more competent! Dental is not cheap!”

“Bold of you to assume that dental will ever be cheap,” the headmistress muttered under her breath as he rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Does it matter? After everything I’ve been through today with the nobles and the prince whining…don’t get me started on the prince” he warned the headmistress before throwing his hands up and looking back at the hooded figures. “…ugh…Someone, anyone..give me a silver lining!”

“I think we can do better than that,” the headmistress spoke with a content sigh as the cauldron gently began to boil. “We found it,” she grinned as she gently moved her fingers across the cauldron's surface as its smoke contorted into the shape of a tree. The wishing tree .”

“You did?” the king asked his eyes glued to the cloud tree that promptly shriveled.

She nodded, “Of course I did. And it was right where we thought it would be. There was a noticeably admirable effort to keep it hidden.” As she spoke, a small cloud arose from the cauldron, taking the form of an all-too-familiar elderly man as the king scowled.

“Admirable,” she continued, dispersing the form with a dismissive flick of the hand. “ but not sufficient.”

“Of course,” the king glowered as the cauldron changed from a soft purple to a vivid jade.

“But that’s not all… she shook her head as she withdrew a small map from her robes. “while we were there we stumbled across animals…talking animals.”

“Talking animals?!” the king spat as his face twisted with disgust. “Seriously?”

Yes seriously…I know…it sounds ridiculous but it’s no doubt a sign of his presence-,” the headmistress thoughtfully murmured as her finger lingered over the spot on the map where they had found the tree. “Sabino must’ve shown him the tree.”

“Tree! Shmee! Imagine having the power to alter the very fabric of reality and you just…you just make animals talk! Animals! Who does that?!” he cried, facing the figures who’d promptly shrugged. 

“Your apprentice, Dario would,” the headmistress.

“Fair point,” the king conceded with an annoyed nod. “He would do something that pointless…” he shook his head before pointing his still glowing staff towards them once more. “But if he knows where the tree is then there’s a good chance he’s already restored it….which unfortunately brings you all back to square one.”

A cool silence filled the air as the figures tensed. The sounds of their heartbeats thundering in their ears as all watched the king aimlessly toy with his staff before looking them over thoughtfully. 

“Why the silence?” he asked, as his face twisted with what most would’ve called concern. And perhaps it was. “You know hypothetically, if the girl were to die, then her family would undoubtedly notice…. Which unfortunately will mean nothing but endless questions…she’s already had the gall to ask me about what she witnessed in the wish garden,” he glowered as the headmistress’s grip on her vial tightened. “Lord knows that it’s only a matter of time before she asks about this too.”

Tentatively he paced around the room, quietly watching them from the corner of his eyes as the reality of their situation quickly set in.

Their chances of being able to leave the room were rapidly diminishing, soon to be non-existent.

“Hmm if the court were to find out about you, I doubt it would end well for you. But thankfully that’s why you have me, right?” he paused, looking over the line of figures who promptly nodded in return. “As your king, I will never be afraid to defend and protect your secrecy! Even when it’s against my own benefits!…the work you’ve left me to do is nothing short of difficult, so it’s only fair that you all at least find one modicum of success while on the field, right?” he asked, sharply pivoting as the tip of his staff pressed against the chest of one of the hooded figure. “ I’m not asking for much, am I?”

The king smiled, listening to the sounds of uneven breaths that filled his ears as the figure did everything in his power to not writhe at the glowing staff. “Hmm?”

“N-no Your Highness,” the figure grounded out as the king carefully. “N-never.”

“I’m glad you think that,” Magnifico sighed, promptly withdrawing his staff as the man crumbled into a heap. “And I take it the rest of you agree, right?” he called to the crowd as they promptly nodded, watching as his silhouette briefly retreated before turning to face them once more.

[eldritch-spouse]

Dorem with a blind human who has endless positivity radiating off her. She knows the world is cruel and evil, but instead of getting drown in it, she stubbornly want to create as much good as possible (helping people, caring for abandoned animal,...etc). Without her vision, she didn't see Dorem as some monster at first, despite feeling very strange in his presence. She just thought he was a very quiet, awkward person.

Their first meeting would be at a graveyard. She was cleaning the graves of people who didn't have any family or friends left and was abandoned until it grew dirty and unnoticeable. She worked slowly, carefully, and completely unaware of the gaze directed at her from the shadows. Dorem has been watching her do this every Saturday for the past few months. He didn't understand it at first, thinking she had mistaken the graves of her familiar for someone else's due to her blindness. But overtime, he realizes her soul was just too bright, too kind and loving. He slowly warmed up to her and revealed himself to her one random afternoon. She was startled but eagerly began chatting with the mysterious graveyard visitor.

It was mostly her talking and him listening. Overtime, she learned of his true nature and bits n pieces of his past that he slowly revealed. She accepted it and became even more determined to make his future days better than his past.

[When you said cleaning graves, all I thought of was that blonde Tiktoker. 💀]

The thought of Dorem just about ready to pick you up and launch you through the air because he sees you squatting around a gravestone, messing with it, and immediately assumes you're some kind of grave defiler... Only to then just loom quietly and watch you clean it. Every. Single. Saturday. Like a confused donkey that slowly grows to appreciate it. Comedy gold.

It's good that you can't see him, but sight alone will not spare you of the instinctive dread he inflicts on the living. You'll know Dorem is something more than human or monster early on, because of the weight his voice carries, his strange smoke-like scent, the way he feels. Because, the moment he's sure he can touch mortals without harming them accidentally, he's going to let you touch certain parts of himself. Of his lanky, bony figure and even the flesh that forced itself upon his head.

He's hideous, but you don't need sight to know that.

Dorem encourages you to spend your time elsewhere. Humans already have short lifespans, don't go ahead and waste yours hovering around the dead and gone. Those are empty words and the two of you know it well, he would be disheartened to find you moved on. More than that, Dorem would follow you and easily terrorize the ones you call close, without even trying.

He sees a bit of himself in you. Working tirelessly yet unrecognized. It's almost futile to clean gravestones, just as it's almost futile for him to keep working for those who've long abandoned him. But the two of you don't know anything else, do you?

The soulkeeper knows things will never be the same, but the moments of peace and quiet he can steal when he sits beside you, letting you map out his hand for the hundredth time while you ramble and he chips in every now and then... Those moments make it feel as if things aren't all bad. He doesn't remember the last time he cradled a living being with as much gentleness as he holds you, prying you away from your exhaustive focus so he -A being many consider a harbinger of death- Can remind you to tend to basic needs.

There's a mild self-loathing in Dorem when your natural warmth stokes urges in him that have been buried for so long he didn't even know they still existed. He wouldn't curse someone as generous as you to laying with him, but then, he's already selfish for stealing all your time, and you don't seem to have very many friends... Would you turn him away if he were to reach for more than just your face?

If he were to whisper what he sees in your soul and how it makes him want to be as close to it as he can?

Dorem wonders how it'll spin and flare in the wake of pleasure.

[capitalisticveins]

Seeing as how you're doing headcanons again i'd like to request hcs of Gavin,Milo,Sam,Vincent,and Guy( btw here's a thought for ya Guy as Hermes dangerous has stuck in my head for the past couple hours send help) also your previous hc were also great!(you could say they were ruthless ha ha ha im sorry that was bad lol)

~ Deviant anon （⊃◕ω◕(´ω｀*⊂)

idk if you can tell but I really like Guy

also I wrote headcanons for some character recently so characters like Gavin, Sam, and Milo have them a lil short than Vincent and Guy since it takes a while to think about possible in-character hcs for them. Sorry :(

Lots of Headcanons #3

Gavin

Believe it or not, Gavin’s social media accounts are usually blank. Save for Instagram. He just has them to comment under the group’s posts.

Despite never reading a book, Freelancer has told him he’d do best in the writing industry.

He does not know how to hold a baby. If you give him a baby for any reason he’d hold it with both of his hands under its shoulders.

The worst he’s been scared was when he played a horror VR game, but he didn’t scream or anything he really just jolted and went “shit” and moved on. Freelancer was not amused.

He likes being the big spoon when he and FL cuddle because he gets to breathe in their scent, hold them, and remind himself that this is real, and not just a dream he’ll wake up from.

Milo

You can’t beat him in cup pong. Digitally or physically. You just can’t.

The only reason David is considered a better cook than Milo is because Milo uses a lot of seasoning and the pack is full of babies who can’t handle oregano or sazón.

Whenever the pack goes somewhere tropical he has to wear a shirt or Sweetheart will constantly attempt to latch onto his torso.

Milo and cats have always gone together like peanut butter and jelly. He had a cat toy when he was a toddler, his first cell phone had a stray cat as his wallpaper, he’d feed the stray cats around his home, etc. So when he learned that he and the people around him could turn into “dogs” (wolves but still) he was DEVASTATED. Got over it after a day tho.

He likes juice boxes.

Avid Apple Juice “tastes like piss” hater, although he also says mint ice cream tastes like toothpaste so take that as you will.

Sam

Sam fucking hates cowboys.

Sam had braces from the ages of 19-21 and the only upside he had to being a vampire when he first turned was that he didn’t need his retainer anymore.

Sam always reads manga wrong and no matter how many times anyone explains it he’ll read it from left to right and never understands what’s going on.

The closest Sam has gotten to riding a horse is when he flopped on top of Darlin’s back while they were shifted and they walked around his house like that…he’s never been on a horse.

Sam has a lot of existential crisises, compared to like Vincent or Porter.

If something's flying and he can't figure out if it's a plane, helicopter, animal, or any identifiable flying object, he just believes it's an Alien UFO and moves on.

Darlin' gave him a wheat head for Christmas once. He was not amused.

Vincent

Wanted to be a youtuber for a brief period in time in 2010.

Had a weird obsession with those traced anime characters dancing tiktoks in 2020, a little after meeting Lovely.

He canonically has multiple cars he likes showing off to Lovely, but he also nearly never uses them and it’s Lovely who showboats them and takes them on joyrides.

He didn’t believe William at first when he was first told he’s a vampire now and was the only one who survived The Surge incident, until they both saw his funeral take place and see his grave, which took place a long time after the accident because his parents refused to believe he was dead.

He had 3 tomodachis at once and they all constantly died because he forgot feeding them was a thing.

He commonly "regrets" asking William to make him unable to lie to Lovely because they like to ask him embarrassing questions on purpose and he can’t help but answer them, even though he could just stay quiet.

His favorite memory as a kid was roller skating with his parents on his 7th birthday. Even though he fell on his face, sprained his ankle, and had a loose tooth fall out. Still his favorite day.

Guy

GUY IS SO HERMES CODED UR RIGHT

Turned a fanfic he wrote as his college essay and got in just because of it.

Was very afraid of Honey when they first met, they kept staring at him like he was the scum of the Earth. They just wanted to talk to him about the Animal Crossing pin on his backpack.

Whenever his friends order from Max’s, and he turns out to be their delivery guy, they make fun of him so much (playfully) and give him a 10 dollar tip

He borrowed his friend’s motorcycle to impress Honey

Cried over Gnomeo and Juliet

Dressed up as the Thomas Jefferson Miku Binder drawing in 2023.

He almost gave himself a buzzcut once when he was drunk, he had to be held down because everyone knew he’d regret it so hard later, not matter how funny it’d be.

[chimimon]

Your Words

Astarion x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: suggestive, like more so than I have previously written, I think… jealously, biting, and it ends pretty abruptly because I don’t plan on posting smut here, so sorry about that y’all. If I missed any tags let me know! Please! Like fr send an ask my way and let chi know!!

& what I have to say is… This game has me in a chokehold. Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a headlock. Like unimaginably so. I’m hyper fixated all over again but this time a stupid fruity vampire calls me beautiful and asks to bite my neck and I asjdjwwsjidkekwakksdnb :) oh, and trigger warning for Halsin mention. <- E.P.

No eyeful sufficed; it was not enough to simply imagine being intertwined when the sudden ache began a week or so ago while Astarion had been playing with a blade. It was one of those things he did often enough to be called routine, ordinary, or unsurprising. What did not happen as often or routinely was how keen your attention had been on such fixed activities. A dozen times over you had traced his veins, memorizing when they were most defined on his knuckles, his forearms and whether it led to the toss of his knife or not. Worse than that, his sleeves were rolled up and around the two-minute mark he noticed your hypnotic gaze. 

Curious, Astarion decided to see for just how long he could keep your attention as he made a show of stretching his fingers afterwards, adjusting his sleeves, rolling his wrists and shoulders before sitting onto the floor with his head in his hands to watch the fire from his tent. Only then did he turn his attention to you with a raised brow and all-knowing smirk. It was obvious you were unaware of your staring as you quickly turned away. 

But it felt as though every ten minutes you would find something new about him to gawk at, and Astarion read you all too well. In frozen observation you hardly blinked in between shallow breathes. The deeper into thought you dove, the more your shoulders sunk, and the more your shoulders sunk, so dropped your eyelids. 

The attention was reminiscent of your behavior at the Tiefling party. After he made his tipsy proposal, he carefully studied just how aware you were of the events to come in every interaction you had before the night ended. How restless you seemed when you lied coyly on your rolled bed. Or just how often you touched your face and neck as you met him in your shared hidden place. Astarion loved how clearly he took up your mind, how blatant it was. He reveled in your tunneled attention and patiently waited for you to give him the word, or a signal of sorts, feeling that it would be nice to have you initiate intimacy as he was secure in your thoughtfully lustful desire. 

But no move was made. 

Tonight, it seemed Gale had no issue making conversation with you from across the campfire as you two were loudly going over alchemy notes from a journal Astarion picked up just for you. You began to pull out leaves and branches from a pouch in your lap, holding them to fire for light as Gale leaned in studiously. It didn’t mean anything, Astarion was sure of it, but if he thought that if he was newly recruited or hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought you and Gale were a thing within this flame lit scene which burned into Astarion mind as he replayed the last six days. 

It was as though you were scared to be near Astarion, to get close to him, to talk to him, but with him alone. Watching him the way animals watch prey, but without any stalk in your stride, without a wiggle or means to pounce. Just heavy glances and light sighs. Karlach had snapped you out of this state a couple of times as it was in her nature to melt you into an easy, giggling mess. Wyll found something that reminded him of some grand adventure while walking a trail and you two seemed to bond over the found item, making Astarion snort. Shadowheart had also decided to warm up in your company and grew intent with whatever you had to say. The way she looked at you seemed far too soft and sticky for friendship and her demeanor buzzed inside of Astarion’s memory. 

But the straw that broke the camel's back was Halsin. Despite you currently seated across Astarion, now handing over some mugwort to Gale, he could no longer ignore having overheard Halsin’s request to keep you company, and how inconsiderately close he was to Astarion’s tent moments ago. By then Astarion was just waiting for you to stop by to talk about it, unsure and indifferent to whether you wanted his permission to canoodle with Halsin. But when you b-lined to the campfire, a suspicious creeping feeling pushed him onto his feet to be seated on the log in front of you. Since he became aware of your careful watch, he noticed how keenly you avoided him and began to wonder if you watched him the way rabbits watch dogs; to run. 

Gale would not stop talking, so Astarion took it upon himself to quietly appear beside him, peering over his shoulder with a tilted stare at you. When your eyes met and widened, Gale slowly, and unknowingly turned to Astarion before he could be cartoonishly and audibly spooked by the elven vampire's sudden appearance. Gale took it as a sign to leave and politely excused himself from your company. Those blood-soaked eyes followed Gale until he was hidden behind a couple bushes toward his tent. 

Astarion seemed to be squinting, his eyes moving from yours, down to your mouth, before landing on your lap. You scrunched your nose when his gaze returned and he rolled his eyes before letting out an annoyed, airy laugh. “My love, should I be concerned?” 

You were obviously uncomfortable with your lap sewn shut, and your posture too taut. “Concerned? About what?” Your brows furrowed before opening. Every muscle melted as you tilted your head, mirroring him. "I mean, I haven’t taken Halsin on any offer to play hunter and bear.” 

He leaned back, deepening his stare, annoyed at your stiff disposition when that stupid wizard got to have you malleable and full of conversation. 

You nervously smiled and averted your eyes. “You know I would ask if I ever wanted to-” 

“Would...” He interrupted. “Of course, you knew I overheard his little, steamy proposal. But that’s not why I’m hurt.” 

It was written all over your face that you were replaying the conversation with Halsin, trying to figure out where you may have gone wrong or if you sounded too open to the opportunity. Asatrion continued when you began to chew on your bottom lip. “Darling, you hardly look me in the eye anymore.” His chest deflated as he huffed out another whiny plume of air. “I mean, before I at least knew that you could talk to me about, well, all of this.” 

All of this swiftly caught your attention. 

“Astarion.” You calmly said, ignoring the ache you pressed between your thighs as you ran your hands over your lap. “What do you mean by ‘this’?” You could swear your heart was beating loud enough to let everyone in camp know that Astarion was the item of your mind consuming lechery. Gods, you could knead dough with how hard your palms pressed into your thighs in some feeble attempt to calm a carnal throb. 

“This.” He whined with his hands apart, referring to you two. “Don’t be coy. You’ve been keeping an awfully close eye on me, and more than that you’ve kept your distance.”  

“Oh.” You whispered, ripping away the steady eye contact. 

“Oh? What do you mean oh-?” 

“Astarion.” You stood up, awkwardly fidgeting your feet before you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes. “Astarion can I... I can, um.” 

Everything stiff and cold was interrupted with nervous stretching, like you were forcing yourself to warm up in his presence, and he was unsure if he should be bothered or relieved by it. 

With mean sarcasm he said, “Your words, darling." 

“Don’t- I mean.” You softly snapped, making him nervous. “Could we um… can we maybe speak somewhere private?” 

Astarion shrugged, lifted off the log before motioning that you lead the way. When the way led to his tent, he got anxious. To him the conversation could go a couple of ways. One of them being you were too nervous to ask to be with Halsin, and that despite him willing to grant his permission, given his current mood, it would be reluctant permission to say the least. The other way was that you were unsure how to tell Astarion you couldn’t do it anymore. It meaning to be with him, and for that he couldn’t blame you, at least not honestly. The fear of you abandoning him after one good night, in what felt forever ago, grew as you motioned him to sit across from you, both of you on your knees as he watched you struggle once again to look at him in the eye. 

He could practically hear it in your inhale, see it in your clenched fists over your knees, and in your eye contact as you finally faced him. 

In your mind, everything felt intimate, close, hot even. You could feel your fingernails dig into your palms and you were sure you’d bleed if you balled your fists further. “I’m not sure how to word this without...” 

He held in a vain breath, slowly nodding while you searched for the words. 

“This is so stupid.” You grimaced, bring a knuckle to your teeth. “Astarion can I just-” 

“You can see him.” He said with feigned relief. 

“Who?” Your hands relaxed. 

“Halsin.” 

“What? No, wait.” Your whole body melted as you tried so hard to read the man in front of you. “What the hells are you talking about?”  “You don’t have to be so embarrassed, I mean,” Astarion leaned back, sighing more dramatically as he had already come to terms with surrendering you over to him. “I mean who would I be to keep you-” 

“Stop.” You held out your hands, shaking them with the same vigor used to shake your head. “Good hells Astarion, no.” You laughed, finally feeling ready to be open about your needs. 

Astarion shot back up with a raised brow, tilting his head again as he drummed on his lap. “Okay, well now I really don’t know what you want to talk about.” 

The growing silence was easy to bear in the sight of your smile, shy and bashful, making him a little hopeful that this was going to be an easier conversation. 

“Great because I’m going to sound stupid.” You sheepishly smiled. 

“As if I just didn’t.” He sucked in his teeth. “Come on darling, spit it out.” 

“Not if you’re going to ask me to spit it out.” 

“My sweet.” The snap in his tone caused you to really look at his face, and he looked anxious. His brows were together and lifted, he may as well have been pouting but you were finally noticing it. “If it’s distance you want, I can provide.” He looked down past your head before his eyes trailed around his space. “I mean you don’t have to go as far as to fighting battles as far from me as humanly possible.” 

“Oh, good gods no.” You leaned down to catch his gaze once more. “Wait no that’s not what this is.” 

“Then what the fuck is this?” 

“I’m just feeling very…” you flicked your hands in the air like you were pushing away the anxiety. “I’ve been feeling rather needy lately.” 

“Needy?” 

“I don’t want to spell it out.” 

“I think I need you to.” 

“Damn it, Astarion.” It was clear he was going to quietly wait, as he was also sitting in front of your exit. “Needy, needy meaning… aroused... I’ve been very horny, lately.” With both hands on your face, you hunched over. “I’m sorry,” was muffled into your palms before your hands slid down to see his reaction. 

Astarion had a bashful but at ease smile on his face. He let out a sharp laugh until he finally really looked at you. You were gripping your thighs, your eyes dilated and round. The animal like stare and careful distance kind of made sense. “And I thought I scared you away, sweetheart.” 

“Quite the opposite.” You whispered, unable to maintain eye contact “So, if you’ll excuse me-” 

 Astarion hummed as he dropped in. His hands planted themselves on either side of your lap, his nose inches away from yours. “And if I won’t?” 

Paralyzed, you held your breath and could feel your resolve snapping. “Astarion, I just… I said… are you sure?” He coyly rolled his eyes, pretending to think about it. “I can be patient.” You breathed, leaning back before he quickly scooted in, catching your chin in his hand before you could retreat. 

“Oh, don’t go running away again. Not when I want you.” He was studying your eyes and lips. You seemed so lost in his tent. “Not when I need you.” 

“You’ve had me, and I promise I can wait.” You whispered. “Please don’t tease me.” The quiet begging pulled at his chest and his desire. 

Then Astarion smiled wickedly. “Don’t think I can’t smell the arousal from less than a foot in front of my nose.” Quickly he snatched your wrist. If your hand were a rabbit, and your wrist its neck, he nuzzled his cheek against its head, playfully biting the neck of the rabbit before you could try to pull away. “And I don’t care to tease pretty things like you,” poisonous desire spilled from his mouth as he asked, “But when you say needy, what exactly to you require of me?” 

Mindlessly you shook your head as you feebly fought to take your hand back. 

“Your words, darling.” 

“Astarion, please this is-” 

“Embarrassing?” He purred. 

You held your breath as he faced your palm, from the corner of he could feel the heat in your face emit on his as he sighed again. “This couldn’t be nearly as embarrassing as the competition I have, my love.” A shit eating grin plastered onto his face as confusion appeared on yours. “You know... when your hand gets more of affection than I do.” 

Humiliated and hot. You were completely humiliated and hot as he waited for you to respond. 

“I mean your I’m sure your fingers can only do so much for so long in my place.” 

Past embarrassment you felt it necessary to say “Astarion, you know that I need you beyond anything you can do for me.” 

“So, you have been touching yourself, naughty girl,” he kissed your middle and ring finger without breaking eye contact. 

“I- Astarion I wouldn’t have,” you balled up your hand in which his thumb smoothed it open again. With little force you pushed forward to cup his face with him still latched in your wrist. “I just- gods I just worry you wouldn’t say no if you didn’t want to just because I’m asking.” 

“I do say no, & I have.” His hold loosened as he pulled back, taking in the soft concern on your face before the thought of that hand between your thighs flashed in his mind. Astarion’s eyes lids dropped, your kind concern caused him to be hard with arousal while his ruby eyes glistened. “Must I worry you won’t ask even if I’ll honestly say yes?” 

Your bottom lip was white between your teeth, so he reached out to hold your jaw, his fingers pressing in as you went doe-eyed and dazed. He was so close to your lips, so he whispered on your mouth. “Go on, my sweetheart. Ask.” 

“Astarion…” his breath tickled your bottom lip as your stomach dropped. 

“Yes, darling?”  

“Please…” you voice trailed off as the humiliation of it all set in. 

“Please what?” Astarion lifted you up as he lifted on his knees, looming over you as he brushed your hair behind one ear with his free hand. “I don’t think I know what want.” 

With all the excitement this brought, you quietly asked. “I want you to please kiss me. Please kiss me, Astarion.” And without a second lost, he pulled you into his hungry kiss, cupping your face with both hands as he pushed into you. 

© 2024 chimimon

[amostimprobabledream]

Animal Attraction (Grimmjow x Reader)

Also available on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/60500386

Good lord, how you hated office parties.

But here you were, in itchy tights, shoes that were hurting your feet, and glitter on your face. You’d worn the shoes because they matched the dress and the tights because you were paranoid that the dress might be too short – you hadn’t had time to try it on when you bought it in a blind panic, and exposing the lower half of your butt cheeks to your boss would be a huge error on your part. …Or possibly lead to a promotion, depending on his proclivities. But not a risk you’re willing to run.

You’re now at the point where the festivities have drained you of your social battery and the artificial good cheer is grating on your nerves. All you want to do is go home, get comfortable and fling your bra off.

“Hey, so, I think I’m gonna…” you say to Chie, someone you’ve always gotten along with.

“Whaaat? You’re not leaving already, are you?” Chie asks, widening her big doe eyes – you roll yours playfully in response, you’ve put off leaving once already because she pulled out that weapon, but it won’t work on you twice.

“Yeah, I’m done. I can only take so much of this goddamn music.” You laugh, knocking back the last of your drink. Hey, at least those were free. “I’ll message when I get home, okay?”

Chie gives a comedic pout of defeat, the flashing lights shining on her lipgloss, and she holds out her arms.

“Fiiine, better not forget!”

You shake your head as you give her a hug – she’s the one who usually forget to text, not you, but you can’t be bothered to raise that point now, her expensive Jimmy Choo perfume enveloping you – you keep meaning to ask her which specific perfume it is-

“Aww, no hugs for me?”

Fuck.

You stiffen in annoyance as you release Chie – Keiji is another co-worker of yours and since he “broke up” with his ex, he’s been hovering around you and some of the other women in the office like a wasp at a picnic.

“Uh-“ you say, trying to think of a way to tell him to fuck off in a manner that won’t get you hauled straight down to HR. But you’re a little drink and your brain is working without all cylinders firing, so before you can do much else, Kenji is hugging you as well and you grunt in displeasure – did he fucking bathe in his cheap-ass aftershave?

“So, I’ll see you later!” you say to Chie, accidentally-on-purpose jamming the heel of your heeled boot down onto Kenji’s big toe and he grunts and loosens his grip and you slither away from him like an eel.

“Prick.” You snarl under your breath as you stomp towards the lobby, nearly making it outside before you have to double back for your coat.

The night air knocks you for a loop and for a second the whole world seems to waver before your eyes. You stand there for a second, waiting for your body to adjust to the sudden change, head tilted up at the sky, a dark blue studded with distant stars and the misty halo of the moon, when out of the corner of your eye you spot something that makes the breath catch in your throat.

A figure leans against the building across the road from you, arms folded, staring you down with eyes so blue they almost seem to glow in the dim.

“Gri- what- how did you know I’d be here?” you splutter intelligently, staring at him.

He sneers and pushes off the wall, stalking up to you with his hands deep in the pocket of his jacket, his shadow falling across your frame.

“Che. You think you’re hard to find?” he asks, an arrogant tilt to his head as he looks down at you. “I’d know your scent anywhere.”

His eyes slide up and down your frame and a leer pulls at his lips, his eyes narrowing a fraction. You belatedly realise you forgot to do up your coat, in such a rush to escape Kenji and his grasping arms you’d stumbled outside with it clumsily pulled on, so your sparkly little party dress that’s showing plenty of boob is on clear display.

“Nice.” Is Grimmjow’s concise assessment of your outfit as he takes another step close to you, and you’re rooted to the spot as you gaze up at him. “Easy access.”

Your mouth falls open at his words – you should be used to his audacity by now but he still manages to find ways to surprise you - but before indignation has a chance to formulate a biting retort, he’s pulling you in impatiently, a hand wrapped around the back of your neck, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours, searing hot in the cold outdoors.

You can’t prevent the little moan that leaves you – rough and brutal he may be, but damn does he know how to use that mouth.

Grimmjow isn’t content with only kissing your lips either – whenever he tracked you down like this, he’d always leave you flushed and covered in marks, bites and hickeys all over your neck and collarbones, finger marks on your wrists and thighs, handprints littering your ass…you always looked like you’ve been ravished by a wild beast by the time he’s done with you.

Which, to be honest, isn’t exactly wrong…

Suddenly, though, Grimmjow pauses in his important task of marking you up, his face inches away from your throat, and nervousness swirls through your bloodstream.

“Um, Grimmjow?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he grabs your head to hold you still and breathes in deeply. His scowl deepens.

“Wha-at?” you say in a slight whine, his expression scaring you slightly. When he goes quiet, it tends to mean things have gotten serious.

“You stink.” Grimmjow responds bluntly, still nosing at your neck. “You don’t smell like you. You smell like…”

His lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl and your stomach lurches – something about how inhuman he looks with that bone fragment on his cheek sends a primal warning signal in your brain urging you to flee, even if you know you’d only get as far as he allowed you to. He does so love the thrill of the hunt.

Fuck.

“It’s – some guy just hugged me out of nowhere before I left, I didn’t-“ you babble immediately, even though you know you didn’t do anything wrong and you don’t have to explain yourself, but the silence is deafening and you find yourself talking just to fill it.

Grimmjow is hardly mollified by your rambling and in a blur, suddenly the darkness of a nearby alleyway engulfs you. Your back meets hard brick and he’d holding you up off the ground with ease by your hips, your entire body weight meaning nothing to him.

“Yeah?” he growls.

He seems personally offended and sets about correcting your little faux pas right then and there. His teeth sink into the tender flesh of your throat, making you cry out, the noise loud in the cool darkness. Grimmjow grins with approval as he spots the little dots of blood welling in the indents of his fangs.

“Fuck, that hurt!” you complain, smacking his chest with the back of your hand, which has all the effect of smacking a wall.

“Good.” He says, licking at the blood with an exaggerated flick of his tongue, holding eye contact with you as he does it, and you feel your face turn hot, well acquainted with exactly what that tongue can do.

“You fucking- mmm~“

Your words are drowned out by more kissing – all your lipstick and gloss will be gone by the time he’s done, Grimmjow tends to treat any flavouring you put on your lips as a topping to his favourite dessert.

Grimmjow leans forward and uses his mouth to tug your bra down, your tits pushed out in front of his face, and he wastes no time in lapping at them, nipping at the sensitive undersides of your breasts, apparently determined to leave as much markings as he possibly can over as much of your flesh as he can reach. His wicked tongue circles your nipples, teasing them until you're pulling on his wild mane of blue hair. He chuffs in approval at the sting in his scalp, leering up at you. He likes it rough when you fuck, even though there’s not much you can do to hurt him.

"Someone's impatient." he drawls, quirking an eyebrow.

"Stop teasing me." you complain, squirming against him, though you’re going nowhere and his fingers. "If you're going to do something, then do it!"

"Brat." he hisses at you, and he pulls you against him with one strong arm around your waist, cradling your body to him like a ragdoll, and lands a sharp smack to your ass that makes you yelp. He likes the sound so much that he does it again on the other cheek, laughing when your whole body jolts.

He likes it when you're a brat, though, because he still does as you requested, his tongue circling your sensitive nipples, sending little sparks of pleasure through you, though like with most things he does, he’s just a little too rough, leaving them throbbing before he pulls his mouth away to focus his attention on the other breast. He leaves little sharp nips to your flesh too, enjoying the soft squeaks it drives from your mouth – you’re so intoxicatingly sensitive, he’d play with your tits all day long if he could.

“Grimmjow, mm…” you hiss, and he smirks as a new scent reaches his nose – he knows your body so well he can smell it when you’re aroused, like a shark can scent blood from miles away. A sense of prideful satisfaction courses through him at how quickly he was able to make you wet, from something so simple, so easy as to just give your pretty tits some attention.

Of course, much as he loves them, they’re not the main thing he’s after.

He's hard already, his length straining against his fly, and he grins and slowly unzips with one hand, giving you a little show as your eyes follow the smooth movement of his hand, a sliver of his black boxers visible, before they’re pulled down too. Your stomach does a little flip as he palms his cock, a smug grin on his face.

“Like what you see, don’t you?” he says, amused. “Look what your slutty little dress has done to me.”

“It’s not slutty, it’s fun!” you protest, mortified he thinks you purposefully wore a slutty dress to a work event, though he isn’t exactly a good measuring stick for that - Grimmjow tends to find any clothing of yours that shows off your flesh to be provocative – you once wore a pair of shorts, not even hotpants or Daisy dukes, just a cute little cotton pair you have for the summer, and innocently walked past him and he responded by pouncing on you and fucking you until you could barely walk, let alone leave the house in them.

“Oh yeah? Then let’s have fun.” He leers at you and you have to admit you walked right into that one.

Azure eyes flick up and down your attire for a second, assessing the situation, before he simply grabs your tights and wrenches them apart, the sound of fabric tearing loud in the quiet and revealing your bare legs to the cold as you gasp in surprise. He tugs your panties impatiently aside, his fingers brushing up against your soaked core, teasing at your clit with a sinister smirk.

"Grimmjow, no, not here-!" you whine in protest, and he laughs cruelly.

"Yes, here," he replied, relishing in your embarrassment, adjusting your position and nudging his way between your legs, letting you sink onto the blunt head of his cock, and you groan as he lets you feel every inch of it bullying its way into your soaked cunt. "Unless you'd prefer I take you inside and fuck you in front of everyone?"

Your eyes fly open with fear, because you know it's no empty threat- Grimmjow cares nothing for social conventions, especially not the ridiculous confining rules humans go by. No doubt he'd love to bend you over in front of all your colleagues and make it very clear you were not on the dating market. You getting fired wouldn't be of much concern to him either - he'd see it as a win, getting to keep you all to himself and fuck you at his leisure.

"No, no, don't even think about it-!" you hiss at him, but you can't bite back the groan of pleasure as his hard cock brushes up against your sweetspot, feeling almost burning hot inside you with the cold air nipping at your thighs.

"Then shut up and take it like a good girl."

Not that he gives you much of a choice in the matter, but Grimmjow likes to watch you turn into a needy, whining, moaning mess beneath him, so he's never been stingy with your pleasure. He watches with rapt attention as he lifts you up and down off his cock like you're nothing more than his little personal fucktoy, his to move and manhandle as he sees fit. And yet, it feels so fucking good, to surrender yourself to the base pleasures after spending all day performing for other people.

He crushes his chest to yours, pinning you against the alleyway wall like a butterfly to a board, and your legs wrap around his waist without any further prompting, the heels of your boots kicking weakly against the leather of his jacket.

He fucks you rough and slow and deep, laughing harshly as a myriad of emotions flash across your face, your lipstick smeared around your mouth and sweat beading your forehead, giving your skin a sheen that’s more like a glow, something he loves to see on you. You look amazing in the moonlight, the silver glow falling across your skin like water, not like the garish brightness of the lights inside. The sparkling sequins on your dress flash in the moonlight as he bounces you up and down on the length of his cock, and you can feel heat engulfing you, you’re too hot in your coat now, your body throbbing with pleasure and damp with sweat. The lingering, acidic sting of any cologne that might have transferred onto you is long gone, replaced with the unmistakable musk of sex.

“That’s right – you’re mine.” He snarls at you, snapping his hips up and driving a keening noise from your throat – before you met Grimmjow you didn’t even know you could make sounds like this, you weren’t even particularly vocal in the bedroom, but he loved listening to you plead and gasp and lose yourself in the moment, so he’d keep going until he heard what he wanted to hear. “These tits are mine , this ass is mine and this pussy is mine. I makin’ myself clear?”

“Oh, fuck- yes-“ you groan, head swimming with booze and pleasure both, despite the back of your skull knocking against the bricks with every thrust, like a little drumbeat.

“Say it.” He snarls. “Or you don’t get to come.”

You whine in protest, but he rams his cock deep into you and your mouth drops open like a trapdoor, your voice sounding strangulated as you utter the words; “Yours, yours, ‘m all yours, Grimmjow, don’t stop-"

Raucously laughter greets your ears and he drops you down a couple of inches so he can fuck you even deeper and your vision fuzzes at he hits just right-

“Grimmjow, yes, fuck, right there, right there-“ you chant, you can vaguely hear your own voice echoing back at you in the alleyway but you’re too blinded with lust to give a fuck anymore, and Grimmjow nips your ear in approval, obliging you by pounding into you at a relentless pace, his cock pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt. You smell fucking incredible, like you but dialled up to a hundred, and with his own scent intertwined with it, he could get high off how good you smell right now.

“Thassit, good girl, good little slut.” He pants against your ear. “Nobody else fucks you just right, huh? Only me.”

“Only you, mmmh~”

Your thighs clench around him and he can feel you come, feel your walls clenching around his dick, your body trembling with the force of it. You muffle a cry of ecstasy against his shoulder, but he can hear you perfectly fine and holds you still, watching the look cross your features, panting and heavy-lidded and satisfied. It doesn’t take him too long to come after you do, and you can do nothing but take it as you feel him filling you up, your cunt still throbbing with aftershocks.

“Th-that…” you say, but the sentence fails to form, like a lightbulb sparking a few times before the fuse pops.

As the rushing sound in your ears begins to fade and the noise of your heavy breaths begin to die down – Grimmjow is barely winded, damn him, suddenly other sensations you’d blocked out in the throes of your impending orgasm. The uncomfortable, stifling heat of your coat, how your feet feel too tightly encase in your shoes, the roughness of the brick wall, Grimmjow’s strong arms wrapped tightly around you, one hand squeezing your ass…

And then, you hear someone saying your name, absolutely aghast, and you don't need to turn your head to see Kenji's shocked expression.

“Oh, shit.” You mumble, unable to think of anything else to sum up the situation.

Grimmjow, unbothered and in fact able to hear the clumsy human dipshit approaching a mile off, turns his head, looking down at the other man from his superior height like Kenji is no more than an insect he'd dearly love to squash. Then a smug, sinister grin splits across his face.

"She's busy." Grimmjow says, his fingers tightening around your flesh possessively, using his body to shield your debauched form from Kenji’s eyes – not so much out of modesty but more refusal to let the little asshole see even a glimpse of your perfect flesh, he won’t allow you to be tainted by having some nobody’s eyes on you. “And you ever put your fucking greasy hands on her again it’ll be the last time you have hands.”

Kenji stutters, not even saying words, just meaningless syllables, looking like a scared puppy, and he turns tail and flees. You whine in embarrassment, clutching Grimmjow’s jacket.

“He saw me!” He could get me busted for…public indecency!” you say, even though technically you were somewhat out of sight – Kenji really ought to exercise a bit more caution before he goes poking about in dark paths.

“I’ll push him into traffic.” Grimmjow offers, pushing your damp hair off your forehead and pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead – he only does stuff like this in his relaxed post-coital state, so you’ve learned to treasure them. “Make it look like an accident.”

He probably isn’t joking, but you chuckle anyway and give your head a fond shake.

“Let’s go home and I’ll think about it.”

“Mm.” he grunts, hitching you up a little higher, one arm around your waist, using the other to tuck himself back into his jeans. You try to right the front of your dress, though there’s no saving your tights, they’re naught but tattered rags on your legs now. “We’ve got a long night ahead anyway.”

Your eyes pop open wide and you look up at him, nearly nose-to-nose with him.

“Wh…what’d you say?” you ask, and Grimmjow cocks his head.

“Oh, you thought we were done?” Grimmjow says casually, grinning at the look on your face. “Heh. You call that bullshit in there a party, sweetheart? I’ll show you a real fuckin’ party.”

[zigrethsnotebook]

[INVERTED KISS]

Bill x Reader

words: 864

tags: sfw, Bill developed a crush on you and hates it

a/n: sort of a continuation of [FOOT KISS] but not really important

“Sparky~!” The demon called out the pet name he had chosen for you and your stomach dropped. This couldn’t be anything good. Bill appeared in front of you, his body shrinking to a smaller version of him, smaller than you even. You furrowed your brows in confusion - he’d never done that before.

“All my maniacs are out for the next couple of hours, so we’re all alone… do you know what that means?” You shook your head ‘no’. His tone was more playful than usual, he seemed to be in a good mood. Still, it was hard to agree with him that you were ‘alone’ considering the literal mountain of people behind him he had sculpted into a throne.

“Hmm…,” he pretended to be thinking, tapping his index finger to where a chin might be. “Well, I’ve been browsing through your mind while you were sleeping-” Oh, god. He can do that? Your blood ran cold at the thought. “-and I saw that you were really into this spider-man guy when his movies came out.”

Your eyes widened. If he knew that then he also knew how much you were afraid of spiders - the animal. Internally, you begged that he wouldn’t cover you in spiders or something like that, just to laugh at you. His one eye never left your face, always scanning for every little reaction to his words. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Either way, I decided we should recreate that scene you daydreamed about so often! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Before you could protest or even process his words, he had already snapped his fingers, conjuring two new chains that wrapped around your ankles and lifted you up into the air. A yelp escaped your lips at the sudden movement and you heard Bill chuckle.

Once your body had settled in the air you realized what he was suggesting. “Wait. The kiss?” The demon flew up to your face, locking eyes with you. “Was there a different scene you daydreamed about? Maybe I should take another look…” He floated a little closer and you gasped. “No!” Bill chuckled, floating backwards a couple of inches. “Yeah, I’m just messing with ya, Sparky.”

You sighed in relief, already feeling a little feeble form hanging upside down. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to kiss ya.” “What? Why?” And exactly how was he planning to do that without a mouth? “Because! You humans! Are always going on and on about kissing and being in love and all that nonsense. And I… I want to know what I’m rejecting.”

He… frowned? Bill seemed disheartened somehow. Was he serious? “Why me?” The words left your lips before you could think better of it. He locked eyes with you again. “Because you’re the only human who’s any fun to be around,” he admitted in a quieter tone. A blush formed on your cheeks. Must be because you’ve been hanging upside down for so long, with all your blood running to your head, you decided.

“So I… I mean it’s not like I care what you want or don’t want or whatever,” he argued, clearly trying to come to terms with wanting this himself. “But, like… can I?” His voice was so quiet, you almost didn’t catch it over the sound of your ears buzzing. This time there was no denying why you were blushing. How were you falling for him? He’s a demon!!

“Yes.” You breathed the word but Bill’s eye widened immediately. He floated closer to you again, his eye turning into a mouth in a horrific transformation that would surely come back to haunt you. When it had fully transformed, aside from his eyelashes that were still attached to his lips (which would surely make this even weirder) he began closing the gap between you two.

Bill’s eyelashes-turned-beard(?) lightly grazed your lips causing you to gasp. His little bowtie was touching the tip of your nose. It was so much weirder than you’d thought it would be. But, if only for the sake of not passing out from hanging upside down, you also wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.

His hands were surprisingly soft against your jaw as he guided your face towards his. When your lips met you felt a tingling sensation in them, and you didn’t care to find out whether you were imagining it or he was doing that on purpose.

You sighed into the kiss. Against your better judgment, you were enjoying this. It was a nice change of pace from the chaos that surrounded you every day. Right now, it was only your lips against his, with fine hairs tickling your chin and too much blood in your head to think straight.

When Bill broke the kiss you kept your eyes closed a second longer, so you wouldn’t have to see the transformation again, and totally not because the kiss had left you slightly dizzy.

Without another word he slowly and carefully brought you back on the ground, right side up and all. The chains on your ankles vanished and so did Bill. You didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.

[yummygender]

Prequel to ‘Stress Positions and Poker’

The Encounter

The night was cold and dark, only the moon and streetlights illuminated the sky as Patch entered the bar where he heard Wade was hiding. He took a long draw of his cigar as he leaned against the wall, simply waiting for the merc to give away his position. He was too fond of him to not make his presence known. The undercover man stood still and silent for a moment before he began to speak.

“Rough night?”

Wade poked out of the dumpster, emerging as if he was bursting out of a cake.

“You tell me, handsome~”

Patch chuckled gruffly while he gently tapped the execs ash off his cigar.

“You smell like shit.”

“Have you smelled yourself lately?” The merc quipped back.

This was their usual mating dance, quips and playful jabs. Wade loved it while Patch despised it, as it was a constant reminder of just how truly animalistic he was. How he was nothing but a wild animal. It ate him up inside but for one reason or another, be it pure dumb luck or Patch was getting desperate, he didn’t mind it when the merc with a mouth was around.

Wade didn’t care that the disguised Wolverine was an animal, a slave to his mutation and instincts, he just liked him. The instincts and surrender to his mutation just made him even more of a catch to the crazed man.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Weeellll…”

“Wade…”

“Ok! Ok! Ok!”

He huffed as he leaped out of the dumpster, stretching while he approached Patch.

“I…was just here to see you! Supriiisseee!!!”

“Oh really?”

Patch mumbled to himself as he rubbed his head. He always cared about the merc, even when he was running his mouth. However, he knew Wade would only pop up if he needed someone dead.

“I don’t buy that.”

“Wha?! You don’t believe me, kitten whiskers?!!”

He sighed as he rubbed his head, cussing under his breath.

“No. I don’t.”

“Ok ok…you’re not wrong…”

Patch turned his full body to face him.

“You were sent here to kill me?”

“…yeah.”

He stared him down, anger boiling over as Wade jumped up and attacked him. They tussled for a bit, guns going off and blades being dawned while blood spilled and mixed into each other. Claws pierced Wade’s chest as he cackled.

“Ohhh! Good to see you still want your hands on me~!”

Patch continued to repeatedly stab him. He wasn’t taking his shit.

“I can easily beat you, Wade. Don’t even try me.”

“Wanna bet?”

Wade pulled out his other pistol before they were slashed off, blood spilling and spewing as the undercover mutant pinned him down on his chest. He grabbed his mask and tore it off while the merc moaned.

“So aggressive! Ya gonna pull on my pigtails now?”

“I might if you don’t shut the fuck up!”

Patch pried the merc to his feet and dragged him into the bar through the back door, hauling him to a private room while he whispered in his ear.

“You think you’re gonna try to kill me and get away with it, mouth? Huh?! You think you’re gonna get the one up on me??”

Wade moaned softly as he tilted his head against him before Patch froze in place, slowly turning to the merc before tossing the blood-stained man onto the booth seat and pulled the curtains close.

“I outta teach you a lesson…”

Patch grabbed he head and removed the mask as he sliced off his slowly regrowing arms and legs, about ready to slice at his crotch before Wade interjected.

“Hey hey hey!!! Don’t go for the jewels, Patchy!!”

“Why should I?!”

The merc began to think before his eyes lit up.

“Well..what do you want~?”

Patch froze as he began to turn red.

“What?”

“I said…what do you want~?”

He began to think, his mind racing as he bit his lip.

“I…what I want?”

Wade nodded as the two sat in silence for a moment before the older man noticed his limbs were regrowing.

“…I want you.”

The merc turned red under his mask as Patch pulled him onto his lap.

“I want you as my little pet…”

Soft jazz continued to play as the disguised man gently removed his weapons.

“…and don’t worry about the suit. I’ll get you a better one.”

Wade’s heart thumped as he gently leaned into his hold while his limbs regrew. He felt oddly safe and completely forgot about his mission.

“So who sent you to kill me?”

“…some anti-mutant bastard.”

Patch jolted at the information, flabbergasted by the younger man’s willingness to work for such people. He wrapped a hand around the man’s throat as he growled.

“You’re willing to work for a man like that?”

“Eh, I was gonna just chop your finger off and just send it to him as ‘proof’…”

The older man growled as he grabbed Wade’s ear, making him yelp while Patch pulled him over his lap.

“Then I guess I’ll leave more proof…”

The man began to spank the merc, holding him in place. He was angry, furious. He knew the man had the moral backbone of a snail but this was completely out of character for the mercenary, but ignored every warning bell that rang in his head as he tanned his bottom. Wade moaned as he closed his eyes, shivering while he took each harsh slap with little to no restraint. Soft whimpers and moans escaped his mouth.

“Ohhh…you’re defeating me, alright~! Ohhh and it feels sooo good~~!!!” Wade moaned.

The older man smirked as he continued the assault, only stopping when he felt the merc’s crotch turning wet. He gently sat the man up on his lap as the merc began to move his slowly regenerating limbs. Once Patch was done lashing out on the slowly healing man’s bottom, he pulled the man into his arms in a gentle yet strong hug. The two sat in silence as his arms finished healing and his legs slowly started to catch up. The older man noticed as he smiled.

“Feeling better?”

“…yeah.”

Patch gently pecked his cheek as he scooped him up, pocketing his weapons while they left through the back door. He was slowly developing a need to protect and hold him, gently squeezing him in his arms.

“…Wade?”

Wade looked up at him.

“Yeah?”

“…you’re mine now…and I’ll make sure you know…”

They got to Patch’s hotel as he laid the merc down on the bed, removing his destroyed suit and tossing it to the side.

“…now…what to do with you…”

Wade moaned as he removed his own mask.

“Oh Daddy…I think I know what you can do~”

He turned to the scarred man as he tilted his head.

“Hmm?”

“Ever heard of gimps~?”

Patch nearly gagged. Gimps? Is he serious?!

“Yeah…”

“Maybe you could make me your little cocksleeve~?”

He sighed softly as he began to think.

“…I wouldn’t be against that~”

Wade smiled widely as the older man began to plan in his mind, thinking carefully about how to go about everything. Patch gently wrapped his hands around the younger man’s throat while he pulled him into a deep kiss. Their lips and teeth clashed as they got wrapped up in each other’s limbs, the older man gently biting his lip as they got lost in the moment before pulling away from each other. They gently pressed their forehead against each other’s before Patch snapped and pinned him down.

“You want to be my little toy?”

“Of course~”

He smirked.

“Stay still, Wade.” Patch grumbled as he got up and searched the hotel, grabbing some duck tape and towels as he wrapped his body up in the towels to protect his skin before wrapping the duck tape around his body like a mummy.

Once the merc was wrapped up in the towels and duck tape, he laid down next to him and grabbed him by his jaw.

“You gonna behave? You gonna be mine?”

Wade nodded as he smiled, his eyes fluttering close while he leaned against his touch. Patch allowed it as he began to grind against him for a moment, letting the merc shake and melt in his arms. He adored the way the younger man trembled before slowly pulling him closer and gently kissing his head.

“Atta boy…just relax…we’ll train later~”

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday - Chapter 9 of the Redemption and Subsequent Death of Bill Cipher

“Okay. Okay. One more time.”

Bill shakes himself off, eyes fixed on where Red and Dipper are standing. Dipper is sitting on the back of Question Mark’s pickup truck with his notebook and Red is standing there, twirling an axe in her hand. Bill is stanced in front of a target, facing them.

As of three days ago, Bill is back on his feet and back to work. After waking up and being cognizant enough to actually function in Ford’s room, they’d made him lay back for another day. While Bill put up a good bit of complaint about it, it wasn’t all that bad, mostly because Ford stayed with him and pet his hair and let him stay in his bed.

Again, things aren’t exactly back to the way they were before, but there’s marked improvement. Ford will be in the same room as him again, talks to him again, even seeks him out. The night before, they’d just sat on the roof of the Mystery Shack looking at the stars and talking in a way that made Bill remember again how things had been thirty years prior.

In addition to whatever is repairing between him and Ford, Bill has devoted all spare energy to trying to get that alternate form to come out. They’ve tried meditation and clenching and willing it into being, but nothing has worked. The last solution was near-death experiences.

Thus Red, her axe, and a large target behind Bill.

“Ready?” Red asks, tossing the axe up and down in her hand for a second.

Shaking his shoulders out, Bill nods.

“Ready.”

“Alright then. Three… two—“

Red throws it on two, it sails right past Bill’s ear, Bill screams, and nothing else happens.

“What happened to ‘go on one’?!” Bill shrieks when he comes back to himself, heart hammering in his chest.

“It’s no fun if you expect it,” Red laughs, going over to collect her axe where it is sunk deep into the target beside Bill. “We’re trying to simulate a ‘near death experience’.”

“Yeah, well—“

“What are you doing?”

The three of them look up to see Ford and Mabel wandering to them. Ford is staring at Bill like he’s got three heads while Red pulls the axe out and puts it on her shoulder.

“I actually don’t know how to answer that question,” Bill confesses.

“We’re seeing if we can coax that other version of Bill out through fear,” Dipper says instead.

“By throwing axes at him?” Ford doesn’t sound mad, almost unimpressed. “There’s better ways to scare him.”

“Well, if you’ve got anything better, I’ll hear it. Nothing’s happening,” Bill tells him.

“Short of just praying that it happens when it happens, we’ve tried everything I would normally suggest,” Dipper notes from the truck.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

“You could try the ‘Mew Mew Kissy Cutie’ method?” Mabel suggests, climbing up into the truck to sit next to Dipper.

Ford and Bill both blink at her while Red groans and rolls her eyes.

“The what?” Bill asks.

“It’s a stupid kid’s show,” Red dismisses.

“It is an ‘anime’,” Mabel corrects with a good deal of gravitas, “and it is a very important anime.”

“Those are the shows that Soos watches sometimes, right?” Ford recalls and Mabel nods enthusiastically.

“Soos showed them to me! It’s about a magical girl!”

“Magical—” Bill starts.

“Girl?” and Ford finishes.

“Well, I’m not magic or a girl.”

Dipper makes a thoughtful sound.

“You are magical and, technically, you aren’t a boy or a girl, you’re a demon.”

“I mean, yes, your binary understanding of gender doesn’t work outside of your realm, but according to the fake ID your grunkle got me so I can buy various age-appropriate implements, I’m a man.”

“It’s not about being a boy or a girl,” Mabel insists before standing, striking a pose, “it’s about saving the world and doing so in a cute outfit and magical powers! One of those things is taken care of.”

“…but I can’t access the magical powers,” Bill reminds. It’s stupid, incredibly stupid, but at this point, they’ve only got so many options.

“Alright, what do I do?”

Mabel energetically jumps down from the truck and goes over to him.

“So, the first thing you do is you have to spin around in a circle and put your arms above your head. After a couple circles, you stop, you strike a pose, and you wink.”

“…I do what?”

“You know, you—“ And Mabel comes closer before lifting her arms above her head. She turns in a neat circle a couple of times before stopping short, hip popped with one hand on it and the other holding a peace sign next to her face.

Bill blinks at her.

“You’re kidding.”

“You heard her,” Ford insists, sounding amused. “You spin in a circle with your hands above your—“

“You just want to see me dance around and make an idiot of myself.”

“The concept has merit, yes,” Ford teases.

Bill waves him off before looking down at Mabel. “I seriously have to do all of that?”

Mabel nods energetically.

The entire group is staring at Bill hopefully and— Look, they’re desperate at this point. …what’s the worst that happens, honestly?

Bill lets out a deep sigh, squaring his shoulders, and muttering under his breath about “stupid powers” and “stupid magical girls”. Stopping a few paces away, he takes a deep breath in, willing the pale heat in his face to die down.

He lifts his arms over his head, spins in two circles before doing the same move as Mabel before stopping, hip popped, hand on his hip, and peace sign near his face.

Nothing happens.

Ford immediately bursts into laughter and Bill throws his hands up.