#He is a freak of nature with his height

[emmyrosee]

“Do you ever wish you were taller?”

Immediately, under your touch, Sae tenses up from his perch with his head on your chest. You tuck your lips in to try and hide your snickers, and slowly, he raises his head, glaring at you. “Don’t start with me. Not right now.” Two big hands brace themselves on either side of you, what was once a relaxing environment suddenly turning playful, and it makes anticipation swirl in your belly.

“I’m just asking.” Your voice quivers from amusement, trying to hide it under a shroud of genuine curiosity. It’s not working. Sae scowls at you while you clear your throat, “I mean, Rin is so tall-“

“I’ll leave you. Swear to god.”

“And your buddy pal there shidou is also a freak of nature.”

“That’s not because of his height, that’s just how he is.”

“And then there’s you-“

“Do you have a point to this, other than to piss me off?” He grumbles. Itoshi Sae is pouting, true, genuine, pouting at you and your words, nose scrunched in annoyance and lip curled in a snarl. You reach your hand up to card his hair gently, fingers working out the strands and smoothing them. You can see him trying to fight his desire to lean into your touch, even when annoyed, your touch brings him back to a state of peace.

He grumbles as he angles his head into your palm. You won and he knows it.

“Aww, you know I love you.”

“Suddenly I’m not so sure,” he huffs. His brows lower, “do you wish I was taller?”

“No,” you say quickly, collected. Your hands shift to gently grab his biceps, squeezing them lovingly while you lift your head to kiss his nose. “I don’t. I think you’re perfect, handsome, talented, smart, pretty, beautiful, stunning, gorgeous-“

He chuckles. You stop.

He raises a brow, “go on. Keep going.”

You laugh as you pat your chest for him to lay back down on, which he does. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and scratch his scalp sweetly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. For some reason.”

You giggle and let silence fill the air once again, your eyes closing in peace and body melting under sae’s comfortable embrace.

……

“To clarify, is that a no, or?”

He leaps up and storms out of the room, leaving you to cackle while calling out his name in an attempt to coax him back in your arms.

[sweeneydino]

Look at all those turtles

[irisintheafterglow]

you had a creep-sized problem, and you spot your solution sitting on a bench next to a pretzel cart. he doesn't have time to brush you off before you're hurriedly making your case.

"hi there," you begin with a shaking voice. "i'm so sorry, but would you mind walking me just a little bit that way?" you point past the arena's third-floor gift shop toward a hidden walkway designated for volunteers and staff only. his surgical mask covers half his face, but his abrasive nature is clear in his body language.

"ask someone else," he replies dryly and shifts away from you, but your sound of panic makes him pause, slightly irritated why you continued to bother him. "what?"

"i just need to get over there, past that," you elaborate, pointing in the same direction but lingering your hand over a figure stalking you in the distance. he clocks the guy pacing a few yards away to block your path, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. the guy is holding his phone in a way that allows him to quickly point it and take a photo before the victim is none the wiser, and you'd caught him following you through the glass reflection of a soda fridge. with only a few minutes left until you had to start your shift, you needed a way to bypass him without drawing too much attention to yourself, so you roped in the nearest strong-looking guy to hopefully escort you to check-in. "please. i work the merch stands, i can get you a free shirt or something."

for a moment, you think he's going to refuse again and you're on the verge of apologizing before he mutters a barely perceptible "fine." he stands to his full height, and it makes your mouth go dry. he could be one of the olympians, all broad-shouldered and strong-calved. his figure was relatively lean, but you couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled under the tight fabric of his track jacket. without another word, he positions himself on your left side between you and the creep and begins walking.

"i like your jacket," you offer. if he was going out of his way to help you, the least you could do was make polite conversation. you hurry behind him and miss the way the crowd of game spectators stop in their tracks to look at your escort. "first time at the olympics?"

"been here before," he answers and you're surprised by the way annoyance has disappeared from his voice.

"oh, really? do you have a favorite event?"

"volleyball," the stranger replies without hesitation.

"that's mine too. all the teams are really talented this year, but i think japan is in it to win," you agree and he hums in what you can only consider as amusement. you don't notice the way the crowd pulls out their phones and whispers among each other, pointing at his mask-clad face and the two moles above his eyebrow barely covered by a perfect black curl.

"you think they'll get gold?"

"i'd be shocked if they didn't, what with the new guys they just signed and all. that striker from the private school in tokyo is supposed to be super good." you accidentally bump his shoulder as a marker and poster are shoved in his direction, but think nothing more of it.

"mmm, the germaphobe with the mask," he deadpans. "people think he's a freak."

"i think the mask makes him cooler, the mystery of it all," you argue obliviously, and he glances at you and your endearingly clueless nature. your eyes sparkle. his cheeks feel warm under the fabric of his mask.

a few minutes later, he deposits you at the staff check-in and nods a curt goodbye.

"i'll be coming to collect that free shirt," he concludes with the barest hint of humor in his voice. at ease, you finally crack a smile and thank him profusely before he turns to leave. you've just finished signing your initials when you finally notice your supervisor staring at you. her eyes dart between you and the receding silhouette of your bodyguard down the hall; specifically, the words printed on the back of his jacket you were so busy admiring earlier.

men's volleyball team - sakusa kiyoomi.

bear with me i haven't written in a long time but i miss my silly little volleyball player grump of a bf so badly

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about boyfriend!yoongi who in a way, found his match with you.

for decades, his oldest friends always teased him for being the textbook definition of ‘nonchalant’, labeling him as a stoic man who loved to pretend that he didn’t care about anything—even though in reality, there were always a few tells that made it obvious that he did.

he was the type of guy who made it seem like he didn’t care if you forgot about his birthday, but would send a joke afterwards saying that he was disappointed that you didn’t remember.

or the type who acted like it didn’t matter to him if the meal he worked hard on cooking tasted delicious for your taste buds, only to grin really wide as soon as you complimented him and uttered a string of praises afterwards.

it was an endearing quality of yoongi’s, a rather fascinating trait that also became the butt of the joke at times whenever the topic was his love life and his bad luck when it came to relationships.

“you can come off as emotionally unavailable,” hoseok told him over beer once. “ladies don’t like that. they want men who can tell them how special they are.”

“isn’t it enough that i show it?” yoongi asked, having just been dumped by the girl he was dating. “i mean, i drive her to work every single day. i fetch her from work whenever i can too. i buy her stuff if it’s necessary, like shampoo or paper towels.”

hoseok stared at him. “paper towels?”

“yeah.”

“wow. i take it all back. you are the most romantic man on the planet.”

yoongi rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. “she mentioned she was running out of them so i bought more for her.”

“are you her dad or something?”

“i heard ladies like a provider.”

“yes, but not in that sense. it’s more like… you get the bill whenever you’re having lunch or dinner at a restaurant, or buying her a bag she’s been eyeing, or paying for her nails when she gets them done. doing all of that without not being asked is the key aspect of it, really.”

“how do you know this stuff?”

hoseok shrugged. “i have an older sister,” he says. “also, i’m engaged to my girlfriend of 6 years. being in a relationship that long ought to teach you a lot.”

thanks to that conversation, yoongi began understanding what it really meant to be a great and affectionate boyfriend without sacrificing his rather reserved personality. he knew what the right gestures to do, what the right things to say, what the right gifts to buy—and he did all of that with utmost sincerity, genuinely wanting to be a better partner for his current girlfriend, which also happened to be you.

the funny thing, though?

you couldn’t seem to recognize the nice boyfriend things yoongi was doing and how much he improved compared to his last relationship.

you were just… independent, he thought. a strong woman who didn’t like to be coddled and didn’t like asking help from anyone regardless of how much you may be already struggling. he had a realization that you were naturally like this because of the stories you used to tell him that made him understand that you just weren’t used to relying on others, a trait that he didn’t have an issue with and sometimes even admired.

however, he couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t sometimes frustrating as well.

for example, just last week, the both of you had a semi-big fight because of how you constantly insisted on changing the broken lightbulb in your bedroom yourself even though yoongi was already telling you that he could do it instead. in the end, since you were stubborn as hell, you still tried changing it on your own but had a very minor injury due to falling off the stool you were standing on for extra height.

yoongi was furious when he found out, and you ultimately became furious because it seemed like he was being unfair to you, the negative energy impacting your mood and rationality that you didn’t get how he was more mad on the fact that you let your pride get to you than just asking for his damn help for the freaking lightbulb.

when the both of you calmed down and said your apologies, yoongi took your hands and looked directly in your eyes. “babe, you have to start depending on me,” he said.

the straightforwardness caught you off guard. “huh?”

“i mean…” you felt him squeeze your fingers softly, “i understand that you’re used to doing things all on your own… how you don’t like being treated like some baby… but that shouldn’t be the case with me, okay? i’m here to take care of you, to always help you with whatever you need.”

you opened your mouth, about to say something he knew was not going to align with his point, so he took the liberty to cut you off.

“i’m serious. you know what i’m talking about. let me take care of you, ____.”

“but—” you couldn’t continue with your sentence, a wave of emotions suddenly flooding you that made your throat tighten and voice quiver as you began speaking again— “how? i… i don’t—i just… you don’t need to. i don’t want to be a burden.”

yoongi gave you a look, a mixture of fondness and disbelief. “you? a burden?”

“yeah. you don’t need to take care of me.”

“i’m well aware that you’re a grown woman who doesn’t need taking care of.” he joked. “but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it. that’s why if i were you, i would just start depending on my poor boyfriend and learn how to be comfortable in being taken care of because it’s definitely how things are going to be now that he’s here.”

you snorted at the use of third person. “fine,” you sniffled, “okay, i’ll try to be better at asking for help next time.”

he sighed in relief, releasing your hands to instead engulf you in a tight embrace. “thank you, baby. i appreciate it a lot.”

****

the first time you willingly asked yoongi for a favor after that talk—regardless of how small and trivial it was—it still affected him big time.

“can you help me assemble the drawer i bought?” you asked him over dinner, ever so casual and nonchalant.

he almost dropped the chopsticks he was holding. “what?”

“i said, can you—”

“no, i heard that perfectly well. i’m just surprised at what i’m hearing.”

your lips twitched while your face visibly burned. “don’t start teasing me or else—”

“i’m not.” he laughed, a little too loudly than usual, before reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles. “i’m not, i swear. i’m just happy.”

“you’re happy because i’m asking for help?”

“i’m happy because you’re letting me take care of you,” he corrected. “it’s a bit overdue in my opinion but who am i to complain?”

you playfully shoved his hand away, which made yoongi laugh harder and lean towards you to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, letting you know that your simple effort of trying to let him in meant so much more than words could ever say.

note. this blurb is unedited and has been in my drafts since december because it's always yoongi missing hours!!!!! but for real though, i wish yoongi is doing great and is always surrounded by good people who can give him the support he needs + remind him how loved he is :(

[alienssstufff]

smth smth builder’s signature styles whatever - I love how instantly recognisable it is to be in a Bdubs build whilst not be jarring. This shot of both sides of the river is a wonderful example

The custom trees. Are so freaking tall in compare to the default, yet their presence doesn’t feel obstructive. You don’t feel ‘blocked out’ from the environment as the deliberate thinness of the trunks, what height the leaves on the pine start at give just enough breathe room to: look through, catch glimpses of the other side, and be invited to Go Through It.

He says it in his commentary, a lot of what he builds is heavily grounded in realism. This area is not meant to be the centre of attention, the purpose of these trees is to Immerse and act as transition as one leaves the rest of the minecraft world and into Bdubs’ ‘more natural’ one — where the trees are grey, and the water is clear.

I’m so fucking serious this random cut of the river is my favourite part in the entirety of this forest, I like how still it looks, I like how clear it is yet how dark it is not only to imply depth but that illusion that the river is reflecting its surroundings how you can even say the river is a dark green! Being able to come to these interpretations for something so simple to me perfectly captures what he wants in builds like these.

And it STILL doesnt feel out of place because he does something like THIS. The way the stream gets progressively more and more opaque until it meets the actual main river is genius work. It gives the impression the water in Bdubs’ place is fresh in compare to the saltier, deeper water of the larger river it transitions.

😭And a final thing, I know the white glass he used was done to suggest rushing water but I swearrr he has like a sixth sense in how to place them perfectly. (Forgive my shitty camera) From this distance if you squint you can see these dark and lighter shadows made by the trees, and by putting where the white spots are placed now highlights these small rays of sunshine poking through the leaves and shining on the river and I think that’s unintentionally the coolest thing.

whhwwh idk how to end this, I just really liked this new video for reasons above and wanted to tell the world why.

BdoubleO100 you never miss. Forever and ever.

Here’s a shaky picture of Etho on his horse if you’ve made it this far :]

[with-my-calamitous-love]

if you love me right then who knows? ✧.*

bnha various x pop star! reader

ya! pro-hero characters (teacher! izuku for his section), a little nsfw but mostly cute/fluff headcanons, as always please read responsibly🤍 i love you ms carpenter

song (album, technically): short n’ sweet

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

- katsuki at the height of his career, may possibly be the most famous person in the country. men and women alike adore him, and its rare he can go out without cameras in his face and people asking for autographs. he, of course, doesn’t filter any of his annoyance. his pr team works overtime for him. he’s learned that being famous is fickle and fleeting. he’s made up his mind that if the world only gives him 15 minutes, he’d light it up so bright no one could forget it. its who he is ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

- he’s already very popular. so when the news of pro-hero dynamite and rising star [y/n] [l/n] had allegedly begun seeing each other? they freak out. 

- he doesn’t bother to hide it, anyway. you meet at some fancy gala. you’re both there for publicity, and by the time you run into him, he’s ready to go home. but there’s something about your voice, the way everyone seems to adore you, that reels him in. somehow, he finds himself in your good graces, and now he’s thought of you every night since then.

- before you, he’d only listen to hard rock, and was kind of an asshole about it. that doesn’t change, but now when he hits shuffle one of your glittery girly songs will play. and yes, he listens all the way through. ꕥ

- theres video compilations of him bringing you up during interviews. its second nature to him, being wrapped around your finger. but he’s also quick to bite anyone who even thinks of talking bad about you. he’s yours, and wants the whole world to know it. he’d never admit this, but he’s scared of messing up. he doesn’t want to give you reasons to him, or to be a motherfucker that embarrasses you. if he can help out, he never wants to be the reason for your next breakup album.

- he’s your biggest supporter. he often gets fed up with the paparazzi and their invasiveness, especially when all he wants to do is watch his partner perform. however, he has a soft spot for your fans, the ones who have supported you and gotten you all the love you deserve. he claims friendship bracelets and hats are dumb but doesn’t hesitate to receive bracelets your fans make at concerts. most of the time, its brightly coloured beads with song lyrics or little inside jokes from your fandom. he once got a bracelet that was dynamite-themed and he keeps it on his dresser. he loves being accepted by you and the people that love you.

- he has 100 reasons to be cocky, and the fact that theres songs you’ve written about him is one of them. you’re out here singing about good bed chem and making tongue paintings and everyone knows he’s what inspired it. makes sense when you look at him.

- oh, and speaking of concerts? he can’t be there every time- hero work is demanding- but for you? he’s flexible. watching you perform makes his entire week. he’ll watch from the wings, nodding along with the beat, his heart swelling when he hears you belt and hold the note. the best part is what the audience doesn’t get to see- him catching you as you run to him, kissing your head and spinning you around, telling you how proud he is.

“i’m glad you made it.” you gleam, almost forgetting to turn your mic off so no one else gets to hear. he wipes a little sweat off your head, almost a little envious at how good you can look after a 2 hour show.

“of course, idiot.” he smirks. “wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

- that night, he gives you 8 inches and 3 new song ideas ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

SHOUTO TODOROKI

- fun fact: shouto is voted most handsome pro-hero of the year, right after hawks ᢉ𐭩

- despite his massive popularity, he’s the most private on this list. he knows what its like to have to smile for the cameras, to keep things looking neat and pretty, all for an act. so as much as possible, he tries to keep the good in his life to himself. he’s never seen an ugly truth that couldn’t be bent into something that looks better.

- he worries he’s making it hard for you to love him. you’re always patient, saying you can take it, that you also want something very private. but god, do you make it hard for him. even when the rumours of your relationship swirl, he’s tempted to just come out and confirm it so he doesn’t have to feel the uncertainty.

- all of his worries wash away, however, when he hears lyrics about him. it makes his heart ache, even when it’s something simple, that you want him to miss you or want him to think of you when he holds someone else (not that he’d be holding anyone other than you). people can speculate who you’re writing about, but its little gift to him that he’s privy to it.

- he will not miss a single award show with you. because you two are so private, the fans go crazy or even small interactions between you two. theres grainy footage of you two talking and holding hands with everyone crashing out in the comment section (😭)

- his siblings loveeeeee your music. them, living more normal, less famous lives, have the privilege of seeing your concerts without being bothered or questioned. fuyumi streams your album’s religiously and drags natsuo and his girlfriend along as well. you tossed her a guitarl pick once and she hasn’t emotionally recovered from it, let alone the fact that her little brother is dating you ৻ꪆ

- he takes it as a blessing everyday that he gets to see your process. he specifically loves creating album covers with you. you asked him if, hypothetically, he wanted to be on the cover for the deluxe version and he blanked out. you have to remind him that he’s literally the entire package, that he fits perfectly, and that you can’t resist that face of his, and that you both arrive at the same time.

- like katsuki, he also enjoys attending your concerts. he happily embraces you, knowing that while the audience got you for an entire show, he gets to have you for as long as you’ll love him. he makes sure to hold you on his right side in case you’re overheating from the performance.

“here, let me grab these for you.” he says, helping you undo your performance outfits, unzipping the chunky glitters and fluorescent fabrics. he thinks that there isn’t a single colour that looks bad on you, but can’t imagine what its like to wear these for hours at a time.

“thanks, shouto.” you hum happily, already looking at the tweets.

[randomfan1]: guys i swear i saw shouto at [y/n]’s show tonight

IZUKU MIDORIYA

- unlike the other two on this list, he’s not famous. he’s spent a few years now teaching, and its a job he’s learned to love. its humble, and quiet, but he can’t help but feel like some part of it is missing. he started to entertain the idea that he’d end this life alone.

- he meets you at a party. you’re a friend of a friend, and he still can’t believe that he has a real, breathing famous singer in front of him. not only that, but you notice him in a room of other celebrities. he was bound to fall for you the moment your eyes made contact.

- much like shouto, he keeps it private. even if he did, he wouldn’t have very many people to tell. his friends were the reason he even met you. his mom adores you. who does that leave, his students? he’s humble, even when he’s dating the most gorgeous and talented person to ever breathe.

- he loves being in the studio with you. it started out with just little sessions, kissing while talking, watching you tune your guitar and play little notes on your piano. then he became the first person to hear your demos and rough drafts. now? he has song writing credits in your newest album ❤︎₊ ⊹

- his ideas give you so much more than just butterflies. he has this way of finishing your sentences, knowing and feeling the exact vision you had for a piece. every now and then, he’ll flick through your notebook and find verses that sound awfully familiar. he wonders if he’s the guy who’s “jacked and kind” and who “talks sweet when you’re doing bad things.” he won’t say anything at first, but he’ll nestle his head between your legs and give you more things to write about.

- he’s an empath. he knows how exhausting it is sometimes, having all your moves watched and studies and scrutinized. he sees you always acting, always trying to be beautiful, and it kills him that its such a natural part of fame. for that reason, he makes sure his apartment is a safe house for you, and that his bed is a secret oasis. he’d do anything for you. ❦.

- he attends when he has the time, standing in the crowd alongside your other fans. he always feels a rush to his cheeks when he hears you belting those lines, knowing their for him. its a secret he loves having, and one that he’d love to talk about when you’re ready. he always puts you first.

“stuck?” he asks, wrapping his arm around you, watching you as you tap your pen against the paper.

“yeah, i keep thinking of you instead of the song.” you groan, laying your head back on his bicep. he just laughs.

“i thought i inspired you?” he kisses your cheek. while normally nervous around others, you bring out the side of that’s comfortable teasing and playing with you.

“you do inspire me.” you smile. “but its not helping right now.”

he cups your face in his calloused, lips ghosting over yours. “maybe i need to give you better ideas, then.” he says, before kissing you deeply.

“yeah, maybe.”

[reallyromealone]

I need a SMILY FIC! Reader is the male version of Jessica Rabbit, and Smiley is his Rodger Rabbit. But nobody believes Smiley is married to the reader because they think he (the reader) is way out of Smiley's league. But it's Nahoya's sense of humor that won the readers heart.

Title: wifey

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Tokyo revengers ensemble

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: smiley x reader, Draken x Emma, takemichi x Hina, hanma x kisaki

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, fluff, reader is tall, suggestive themes, mentions of threesomes

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Smiley was a surprisingly private individual, he kept his shit to himself and so it was a surprise to everyone that he was not only in a relationship but engaged to one of the hottest person they ever saw.

(Name) Was a bombshell, the wet dreams of wet dreams.

"You are not engaged to him" Baji said simply and nahoya shrugged as he polished a glass at the bar area at the restaurant, him and Souya closing the shop for the day to have old Toman together for lunch "you are literally a gremlin! And he's like-- walking sex!"

"Keep getting bricked up for my fiance and I'm gonna kick your ass" smiley said coldly with a grin and Baji rolled his eyes "oi, Sanzu don't you deal with paranormal shit or whatever it is?"

"Parasocial and all the time, people think they know everything about me" he said simply as he sipped his sparkling water, Mikey nodding in agreement "I got people acting like they know exactly how I act... Real freaks"

"So delulu that he thinks he's with (name)" mitsuya picked up slang from his sister's and loved to use it much to the others groans.

"Keep acting like this and you're not invited to the wedding" smiley didn't have to wait to long though to prove his words true, (name) texting him that hes on his way with some snacks the pink haired man requested.

"Seriously, you're way to deme--"-- baby? They didn't have the chips you wanted so I opted for the second best thing" everyone turned to see (name) step in, the Haitani brothers awe struck and Draken surprisingly was the only one who believed smiley after all, how the fuck did Draken himself land Emma?

"Oh, 'hoya baby you didn't tell me you had company, I could have come at a later time" (name) was a fair bit taller than nahoya, from the looks he stood at the same height as hanma. Curves and an ass that could make a man drop, the married trio of pah, Draken and takemichi chatting amongst each other with no interest in the situation but the others... Smiley was about to break some fingers.

"Everyone, this is my fine as hell fiance! No we won't do threesomes so don't fucking ask!" (Name) Let smiley pull him to his side, the other kissing his cheek while he played with the hair at the nape of the older twins neck and smiled at Angry "I got you some gummy worms" he said calmly as he ignored the oggling from the others "it's a pleasure to meet Nahoyas friends, he's spoken of you all"

"Fondly I'm sure" kazutora said with a flirty grin and (name) tilted his head as he gazed into the others eyes "that's not the word I would use" (name) said simply as he watched the other struggle at (name)s naturally sultry gaze "how the fuck... Is this a thing" Kisaki said incredulously as Hanmas hand rested on the specticalled man's thigh, the boyfriends finding this fascinating yet strange.

Smiley was... Well smiley and (name) was sex incarnation.

"We met at a party and where everyone was trying to flirt... Hoya made me laugh" (name) said simply and nahoya looked SMUG as he let the other hold him close "why don't you head upstairs baby, I'll be up in a minute" Smiley sent (name) upstairs but not without a kiss that left (name)s (lipstick/lipgloss) on the others lips.

"You sure you aren't open to a threesome?" Mikey asked and smiley cracked his neck at that.

"Absolutely fucking not, you're not coming to the wedding"

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing

Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3

Inspired by my own post

☆☆☆

“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”

Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.

“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.

Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.

He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.

Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?

“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.

“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”

“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.

Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.

“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”

Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.

He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.

That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.

Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.

When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.

But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.

Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.

Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.

But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.

Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.

“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”

Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.

“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”

“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”

“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.

It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.

Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.

“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.

“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”

Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.

“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.

“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.

“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.

He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.

Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.

“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”

“Okay.”

Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.

All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”

“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.

He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”

He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.

He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.

“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.

“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”

Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.

“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”

Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.

“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”

Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.

Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.

[hachiane]

ranking the LADS boys on who takes the best Instagram photos for you

a/n — just my headcanons!! may be OOC, majorly she/her reader pronouns

count : 950 words

#1 Rafayel Qi

— takes one look at your inspo photos and scoffs, “puh-leaase, i can do better than that.”. under his calm exterior, his painter's eye is roaring to life, the gears in his brain immediately turning when your phone is passed into his hands.

Rafayel matches your freak instantly and pretends he is like every photograph boyfriend every it-girl online seems to have; he's guiding you to pose, where to place your hands, tilt your face so he captures all your best angles, even the ones you didn't think you had. your personal hypeman as he snaps away, "yesss, cutie! you look so good!' "kill me with those sexy eyes of yours!" "makeup on point! show off your pretty lashes!"

it doesn't end there. Rafayel is also looking over your shoulder helping you choose the best shots, giving his small comments and suggestions as you edit them in your phone, things like "up the contrast, the shadows are dark in this one" or "why are you cropping like that? this makes you look taller".

after your impromptu photoshoot, he sings praises about you being the most beautiful muse, the cutest bodyguard. and of course, you have to take some couple selfies with him too as reward for his hard work.

Rafayel is your first like, first comment when you post, bombarding your notifications with comments. “that’s my bodyguard right there 😍” “you’re sooooooo hot 🔥🔥” “slay queen 💅🏼✨”

he'll do everything again, no doubt about it.

#2 Xavier Shen

— when you asked him the first time, he was hesitant. he says he read a book about it but never put it to practice, warning you that you might be disappointed. you shove your phone into his hands and that you're fine with whatever he gets in the end. (unintentionally that awakens his inner prince, determined to ensure his princess look her best in every frame)

the entire time, Xavier says nothing. you hear him snap away and hum to himself, but he's not saying anything to you; doesn't tell you how to pose, where to place your hands or if you should be looking at him. so most of the time, you’re by yourself testing out the poses you saw online and placing your blind, full-hearted trust that he gets the picture you imagined. 

the thing is, while poses look good on you, Xavier behind the camera much prefers your candid moments, because these says much more about you than poses other people have thought of. you in your natural state is the most beautiful to him, and he says so, “i only take pictures of pretty things and you like this is the most pretty to me”.

later, being the old soul he is, he purchases a polaroid printer to get physical copies of your photos and stashes them away in a journal or box, for these memories of you deserve to last lifetimes.

#3 Sylus Qin

— his pictures of you are decent enough. when you asked him the first time, he says he’ll get you a personal photographer if you so desire good photos, but your cutesy pleading and debating your point about the sentimental value of photos taken by him makes him give in. he follows your inspo photos to the T, but because of his height, you notice the angles are slightly higher than what they should be. like Xavier, he doesn't tell you how to pose; he just taps away on the shutter button as he moves around you here and there, occasionally hunching down for a low angle shot, with his other hand in his pocket, nonchalant as Sylus usually is.

accidentally left the live photo feature on for most of your photos, and while perturbed at first, those become his favourites; he gets to see a glimpse of your genuine smile at his ministrations before your expressions snap into a smouldering, radiant look that he would fall to his knees for time and time again. he sends the photos to himself afterwards without asking, shrugging when you question him about it when he was being so indifferent at first, “sentimental value, kitten”.

#4 Zayne Li

— unfortunately, Zayne takes photos like an aged father with two daughters; straight on, no angles, no direction, not much effort given the first few times. but after seeing your slightly disappointed look as you review the photos, even when you reassure him you're okay with them, he knows he’d done you wrong.

the next day, Zayne promptly asks his female colleagues and acquaintances with a photography hobby at the hospital for some tips and crash courses. of course they oblige him (because who could say no to the Dr Zayne when he asks for a favour?) with simple go-tos and the tricks. and Zayne being Zayne, he notes them all down in his personal notebook, studies it in his downtime, brings it home to read and practice on some "subjects" lying around the house: your collectible figures, the fresh bouquet for the living room, and so forth.

the next time the opportunity comes up, he breaks it to you he's been studying for this exact moment and asks if you would give him another attempt. although the photos end up not what you expected when he said he's been "learning", it's miles better than the first few times. Zayne would look at you expectantly for your reaction, and he heaves a sigh of assured relief when you compliment his improvement. when you post the recent photo he took of you, he cracks the widest smile he's had all week, liking and saving the photo to make it his phone background (though you've probably already sent it to him).

[adverbally]

Give Me More Than Just Some Butterflies

Written for the @stmarchmm prompt “breeding” | wc: 2,057 | rated: E | cw: sexual content, references to intentional pregnancy and babies/pups | tags: Steddie, omega Steve, alpha Eddie, established relationship, bondmates mating cycles/in heat, intersex omegas, trying to conceive, breeding kink, knotting | title from “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter

———

When Steve’s heat finally hits, he’s been anticipating it for so long that he’s not sure what to do.

For months, he and Eddie have been talking about trying to get pregnant. They’re bonded, they have a spare bedroom for a nursery, their loved ones are there to support them and spoil the hell out of their baby. Steve’s off his birth control. They’re ready. Really. All they need is one good heat.

But now Steve’s pacing the length of their bathroom before dawn, burning with fever but wracked with chills, pressing the heels of his hands into his aching eyes, feeling utterly terrified.

This isn’t just some abstract plan for the future anymore. Here and now, they’re taking responsibility for a living, breathing human being that they’re going to create together. It’s everything Steve has ever wanted. It’s his worst nightmare. His heart is racing with the need to have his alpha close, to be taken care of and knotted until he’s thoroughly pupped, but his hands won’t stop shaking and he thinks he might be sick.

Steve sits on the cold tile, the bathmat shoved aside so he can feel the comforting chill on his bare legs. The porcelain of the bathtub behind him has a similar effect along his back and shoulders. When he tilts his head back, the tub is the perfect height to rest his skull on the ledge next to their toiletries.

It has to be nerves, right? He still wants this so badly his hands twitch at the thought. A baby, their baby, with that powdery clean scent and Eddie’s big brown eyes, maybe Steve’s nose. A whole little person to watch over and teach and love until he takes his final breath. A family of their own. God, he can’t think of anything he wants more.

That soothes something in Steve’s gut, makes him feel like his chest isn’t about to collapse in on itself. Maybe what he thought was anxiety is really just excitement. Maybe it’s just a natural fear of change, even if the change is a good thing.

Steve gets to his feet. Enough freaking out. He splashes some cold water on his face, which doesn’t do much for the feverish pink spots high on his cheeks but makes him feel calmer. He’s gonna go back out there, call in his heat leave, and wake up his mate so they can make a baby.

Eddie promptly derails that plan by scaring the hell out of Steve, who wasn’t expecting him to be standing right outside the bathroom door.

“Sorry!” Eddie exclaims, his own eyes wide with surprise. “Just, you weren’t in bed when I woke up and your scent was—”

“My heat is starting.”

They blink at each other for a moment before Eddie breaks the stunned silence. “Oh my god,” he says softly, covering his mouth with both hands. Then he laughs and throws his arms out and shouts excitedly, “Oh my god!”

His enthusiasm is contagious. Steve smiles as Eddie pulls him into a clumsy kiss, their teeth clacking and noses bumping, hugging tightly enough to bruise.

“Really?” Eddie asks, pulling away to hold Steve’s face between his hands like he can tell whether he’s in heat just by looking at him. Actually, he probably can tell by the feverish flush across Steve’s cheeks and the warmth of his skin, but he still asks.

“Yes, really,” Steve confirms.

Eddie kisses him again, then he starts herding Steve toward the bed like he’s some kind of sheepdog. “Okay, you get comfy. I’ll call the school and tell them you’ll be out for the week.”

“Will you call Robin, too? She’ll get the word out so nobody worries if we don’t answer the phone.”

“Of course. Be back in a jiffy.”

Eddie practically runs out of the room and all Steve can think is: That man’s gonna be the father of my children.

It sends a wave of want through him. Eddie will be here in less than five minutes, then he’ll fuck Steve and put a baby in him, just like they planned. A shiver runs up his spine, feverish and excited. He should be ready for Eddie when he comes back.

Steve steps out of his boxers and climbs into bed, settling himself on Eddie’s pillow. He inhales the scent of smoke and amber, dark and warm, and thinks about smelling it straight from the source. In just a few minutes, he’ll be nipping at the bonding mark on Eddie’s neck and breathing him in to his heart’s content.

Just thinking about it makes Steve squeeze his thighs together against the ache he feels. He’s so empty, and Eddie’s the only one who can fix it. Even as he slips two fingers, then three, inside himself, Steve imagines more: the perfect fullness of Eddie’s cock, the delicious stretch of his knot. The way his belly will swell after Eddie knocks him up.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” Eddie asks from the doorway.

Steve lets out a whine at the prospect of having his mate so near but not being touched by him yet. His own hand is a poor substitute for Eddie’s, missing his calluses and the coolness of his poor circulation and the way he knows how to play Steve just like his beloved guitar. It’s not enough.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie’s voice is suddenly coming from right next to him, perched on the edge of the bed. His hand on Steve’s face is a relief, like a cold glass of water. “I’ve got you.”

“Want it,” Steve tells him, pleads with him as he gropes for any bare skin he can reach, desperate to feel Eddie, real and solid beside him.

Eddie gently grasps Steve’s wrist, pulling his hand from between his legs with a slick squelch. “Do you need more prep first or are you—?”

“Just your cock,” Steve huffs, shifting impatiently. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so affected by a heat before. Probably something to do with stopping his birth control, he guesses, but the cause doesn’t matter much when he’s being hollowed out and burned alive by the overwhelming want that’s flooding through him.

And he must have missed Eddie moving again, because he’s startled by the sensation of Eddie’s cock sliding through his folds. Kneeling between Steve’s spread thighs, Eddie doesn’t thrust inside yet, just nudges the head of his cock against Steve’s and smears his wetness around with every slow roll of his hips. He knows how badly Steve needs him and he’s still toying with him.

It’s starting to hurt now, the way his cunt clenches around nothing while his mate is right there. “Please, Alpha, please,” he begs, arching his back and reaching for Eddie’s hips to try to guide him inside.

Eddie catches both of his wrists in one giant hand and presses them into the pillows above Steve’s head. He leans down, their bodies pressed together from hips to shoulders, and buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, right over his mating bite.

The scrape of Eddie’s teeth is a silent reminder of their bond, thrumming through Steve like a plucked string. Telling Steve not to worry, asking for his trust, promising that he’ll be taken care of. Steve relaxes at his alpha’s reassurance. He’s still needy, still heat-drunk and aching for Eddie’s knot, but no longer frantic with it.

“So good for me,” Eddie murmurs, releasing Steve’s wrists. With his newly freed hand, Eddie takes hold of his cock, right at the base where his knot is already starting to swell, and slowly feeds it into Steve’s cunt.

Steve doesn’t think he could speak if he tried. Eddie is so hot and thick inside him, it’s like he’s pushing all the air out of Steve’s lungs so he can’t make a sound. All he can do is cling to him, fingers tangling in Eddie’s hair where his arms are locked around his neck, and let his mouth hang open as he gasps for breath.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Eddie sighs as he bottoms out. His first thrusts are tentative, gentle rocks in and out that glide smoothly through Steve’s slick. “That’s what you needed, huh? My cock filling you up?”

“Eddie.” His name feels so good in Steve’s mouth, as good as Eddie’s cock stuffing his pussy to the brim. They fit together like they were made to, so easy that Steve doesn’t have to think. He can just focus on the hot drag of each stroke, the way Eddie can get so deep with just a twitch of his hips, carving out a space inside Steve that nobody else will ever be able to fill.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I swear, it’s like you’re already glowing.”

He believes it, can practically feel it radiating from his skin, soaking into the sheets beneath him. It makes him smile, then chuckle when Eddie beams back at him. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way. Joy and pleasure just keep bubbling up in his chest, lighter than air, like he’s a helium balloon, bobbing as they rock together.

Then Eddie pauses to adjust the position of Steve’s knee, and the next thrust takes Steve’s breath away when Eddie’s cock hits him just right.

“Fuck,” he moans, rolls his hips into the next one to relish the way he feels even fuller at this angle. “More, please, I need—”

“Shhh, I’ve got you.” Speeding up his pace, Eddie drives in even deeper, the slap of his hips obscenely loud each time they meet the slick-smeared skin between Steve’s thighs. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, baby, don’t you worry.”

The promise pounds in Steve’s ears in time with his heartbeat. Eddie will take care of him. Eddie will fuck him better than anyone else ever could, will empty himself inside Steve and then knot him for good measure, again and again until Steve’s heat breaks. Until he’s bred, full with as many pups as Eddie can give him.

He must’ve been thinking out loud, because Eddie cups his cheek tenderly and murmurs, “That’s right, honey, all the puppies you want. Gonna be such a good mama.”

“Want it,” Steve agrees, nuzzling into Eddie’s touch. Warm and safe here in their nest, with his Alpha’s knot starting to catch at his hole, he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s coming out of this heat pregnant. It feels too right to fail. He hums his satisfaction against Eddie’s hand.

“Getting close for me?” Eddie slows his hips, returning to the slow grinds that make Steve’s toes curl. “Wanna come on my cock like a good Omega? Squeeze every last drop out of my knot so you can have my baby—”

Steve goes silent when he comes, unable to catch his breath or put together a coherent thought. His pussy spasms around Eddie’s cock until his Alpha can’t pull away, can only rock into the wet clutch of him as his knot pops past Steve’s rim.

“Oh, fuck, Stevie,” Eddie pants. He muffles his groan in the crook of Steve’s neck, mouthing at his mating bite as he spills inside of him.

If he hadn’t still been riding out his first orgasm, the sensation would be enough to make Steve come again. He’s acutely aware of each jerk of Eddie’s cock, each hot spurt filling him, his Alpha’s knot swelling further to lock them together. It settles him in a way he didn’t know he needed, sates him so completely that he goes limp in Eddie’s arms.

He can hear Eddie speaking to him, though he sounds far away. “So good for me,” he soothes, trailing kisses along Steve’s jaw and raking sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. “My beautiful mate. I love you so much.”

Steve ducks his head to capture Eddie’s lips with his, gasping when the movement makes Eddie’s knot twitch. “Love you, too, Alpha. Took such good care of me,” he croons. He laces his fingers with Eddie’s and tugs their joined hands to rest over his lower belly, still flat but full of promise. “Of us.”

“Always,” Eddie vows, sealing it with another soft kiss. “Now get some rest before the next wave hits.”

“Then you can make sure it takes,” Steve grins.

———

It does.

[i-dared-myself]

Luggage Gone

ATEEZ x reader

Requested by anonymous: Do you think you could write a fluffy ateez x 9th member reader where she's super petite and has to borrow one of the member's pyjamas/clothes for some reason (maybe she's been snowed in at their place or they're traveling and her bags were left behind) and now they're all teasing and uwuing bc she's smol in baggy clothes

CW: So I didn’t describe reader, but I made her really short so the clothes were baggy. Other than that, reader’s body size in not mentioned. Also there’s one sex joke.

“Unbelievable,” Hongjoong mutters furiously as he tries to unlocks the door. His fingers fumble with the keys and he curses.

Seonghwa eases the keys from his grasp, smiling gently. “Here.” He takes over the task and successfully opens the door, pushing it open for the rest of the group.

“I can’t believe our flight was cancelled,” Wooyoung whines. He lets out a heavy sigh and tosses his bags into the corner.

“At least you still have your things!” you snap, placing your hands on your hips. Your own luggage had been taken by the airport before the flight had been cancelled, and loaded onto an unknown airplane.

San shivers. “The snow is really piled up. It’s pretty bad out there.”

“Which is why they cancelled the flight,” Jongho dryly states. “They didn’t do it for the fun of it.”

“At least we still have this place for another night,” Seonghwa brightly says, gesturing to the empty cabin. 

Everyone glares at him.

“I’m going to go see if there’s something for me to change into. Maybe I forgot to pack something,” you mutter. You’re soaking wet, like everyone else, and fed up with this.

Mingi raises an eyebrow. “Good luck with that. We did a check before we left, remember? There won’t be anything.”

You huff, rubbing at your face. “You’re right. I’ll just… Blow dry my clothes.”

Yunho hums. “Or you could wear something of ours?”

You tilt your head thoughtfully, considering the suggestion. “Yeah, that’s not the worst idea.”

Yeosang flexes his biceps. “I’ve been working out recently, so I don’t think mine would fit. On any of you.”

“You can just say that you don’t want me to touch your stuff.” You snort in amusement. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling.”

Yeosang scowls. “Hey, I’m- I’m- Whatever.”

Seonghwa opens his luggage and roots through until he finds a hoodie. He hands it to you with a pointed look to the others. “Here.”

San gives you a set of sweatpants, and you shuffle off to the bathroom to change. You’re immediately faced with a problem.

Sure, you have what you would consider normal height, but look at them. They’re all tall freaks of nature. Like, why did they need to be so tall?

The sweatpants are bunched up at your ankles  and the hoodie is down to your knees. But that’s okay. At least you’re warm now.

You shuffle out of the bathroom after hanging your wet clothes up to dry. It looks like everyone else has changed as well now, all gathered around the tv.

Hongjoong is the first to notice you, lips quirking before he stamps down his smile. He clears his throat. “Uh, hello.”

Wooyoung glances up, eyes narrowing. “That’s… special.”

Seonghwa presses his hands to his cheeks, squealing excitedly. “Look at you! You’re adorable!”

That’s what seems to break the dam. Everyone starts fawning over you, gushing about how precious you look.

Mingi grins from ear to ear. “That’s cute.”

Yunho flicks his eyes over you. “Don’t you just wanna-“ he makes a grunting noise, clenching his fists, “to her?”

San nods his agreement. “Absolutely.”

“Cuteness aggression is what it’s called, I think,” Jongho chimes in. “And yes. Just wanna squeeze her until she pops.”

You eye them all warily. “What the fuck?”

“Imagine how baggy it would’ve been with my clothes,” Yeosang seriously says. He looks down at his crotch. “The only thing bigger than my biceps is-“

“Okay!” Hongjoong loudly announces. “Come here.”

You pick up your pants off the ground and walk over to him. Hongjoong studies you carefully, eyebrows furrowed.

Then he pinches one of your cheeks. “Aw, look at you.”

You cover your face in embarrassment. “Stop it! It’s because you’re all too big! Too tall!”

“Or maybe you’re just really short,” Yunho remarks. “Our clothes look normal on us.”

“Because you’re tall!” you exclaim. You cross your arms in frustration. 

Seonghwa clutches at his chest, not having heard anything you just said. “Come here!”

You roll your eyes, but approach him slowly. You brace yourself for another pinch to your cheeks, or maybe for them to strangle you to death. Cuteness aggression is a powerful and dangerous thing.

But instead he tugs you onto his lap and coos at you. He squeezes you tightly across the middle with a content sigh.

Jongho holds his arms out. “Gimme.”

Seonghwa reluctantly passes you along to Jongho, who grins widely. He ruffles your hair and you grumble at him.

“Not a toy,” you mutter angrily.

Jongho scoffs. “Then don’t look adorable. This is what happens when you’re cute around us.”

Mingi hums, rolling out his shoulders. “When’s it my turn?”

You squirm away from Jongho’s grasp, standing up. “I’m going to bed! And I’m mad at you all!”

Yeosang wiggles his fingers at you. “Aww, sure you are.”

“Don’t patronize me!” you snap. “I’m pissed off at you!”

San walks over and scoops you up, tossing you over his shoulder. He brings you right back to the couch and plops you down on Yunho, who pins you to his chest.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” you say, but lean into his touch. It’s been a long day…

“I should throw your luggage out more often,” Wooyoung comments casually.

Yunho has to hold you back as you try to lunge at Wooyoung, which officially puts an end to the evening.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic @strawberryscentedd @lezleeferguson-120 @mbioooo0000 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

[sossolei]

my experience shifting to haikyuu/anime reality °‧🏐⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

DISCLAIMERS ! I only stayed here for a couple hours, everyone spoke English, I didn’t script anything because I shifted by accident, k that’s all. ANTI SHIFTERS DNI ! ! !

The first question anyone asks when you’ve shifted to an anime is “what did it look like” and in my personal experience, they just looked like regular Japanese teenagers I fear lmfaoo. I’ve seen posts about this one artist on Instagram who does like 3D renders of anime characters but that’s def not what everyone looked like when I shifted. Everything was just natural, it was regular Japan, with regular students, with regular unnatural natural hair. Everyone’s hair was natural unless it’s obvious that they dyed it, even Hinata’s!

I shifted during the camp arc? I don’t actually remember what it’s called here but that one weekend where some of the volleyball schools got together and trained together. I woke up on the Karasuno bus when were like 15 minutes away and was completely mortified cause I was drooling on Kiyoko’s shoulder while I was sleeping (sorry queen). She didn’t mind but…ugh. Anyways! I was definitely freaked out for a goooood five minutes but I just kept gripping the bus seats and looking out the window to “ground myself” or whatever.

Once it did register that this was all real, I kept doubting myself and then realizing that if this wasn’t real, or if it was a dream then I wouldn’t be able to see my feet or my hands, I wouldn’t be able to feel every bump the bus made or even accurately conjure up what Japan looks like considered I have never been there before. It was definitely weird at first but Kiyoko was very chill and didn’t question me lowkey losing my mind. She offered me some Japanese cookies and just listened to music for the whole ride.

Meeting everyone was the most confusing part emotionally because on one hand, I’ve already been going to school at Karasuno for months now and I’ve met these boys already once I joined the team but in o.r I had fallen asleep watching these people on a screen so it was trippy asf seeing everyone in the 3D.

The first people I spoke to besides Kiyoko, was Tanaka and Nishinoya cause they asked for cookies too and then Hinata butted in and it became this whole little fight oh god. Hinata sat a little ways away from me but he still tried to have a conversation with me which I lowkey appreciated cause it felt like a way to get out of my own head about shifting and just enjoy the moment.

Appearance wise, it’s like I said, everyone just looked like regular Japanese students, but the younger students definitely still have their baby fat. Hinata, yamaguchi, and even kageyama had slightly chubby cheeks and just look very young in the face. Tsukishima looks just slightly older but I definitely attribute that to his height. If you know any tall high school boys, you’ll know what I mean, he just has a baby face in a tall body. Also! Asahi is not as scary as they make him seem in the anime😭 he just has facial hair at a young age so people think he looks a lot older but he is not scary. To me at least, he looks a lil racially ambiguous cause of his tanner skin and his overall build is just bigger than most Japanese men, but I think he’s 100% Japanese.

Okay so during this time I was missing my Haikyuu phase when I was completely obsessed with Kenma, whole time y’all…. I barely even spoke to him that entire day LMAOOOOOOiwassadOOOOO! No but fr, I tried talking to him a couple times and he literally was just like this 🧍I kid you not. Kuroo spoke up for him sometimes but my little 2020 heart was so devastated guys. He was either always on that damn video game or focused on volleyball. I think he only spoke to me first one time to ask if I knew when we were getting food, and I BURNT THE BACON. I just stuttered a “I don’t know, you can ask coach” and he was like “ok thanks” and walked away. Oh my god I’m embarrassed again just thinking about it pls. Tsukishima was getting something from the vending machine when this happened and when I tell you he would not let me live it down! He stood up from getting a drink, pointed, and LAUGHED??!??!!! WOW, I’m done talking about this I’m getting embarrassed all over again LMFAOO

Honestly? It was kind of boring after a while. I mean yeah I was freaked out over meeting everyone from the other schools but I was lowkey just the water girl so I kinda just stuck by coach and Kiyoko the whole time. I looked through my camera roll to try to understand the reality more ( considering this was an accident ) and I mainly saw pictures of Hinata and Nishinoya stealing my phone, my cat, homework, and general scenery. And then in my text messages I had a group chat with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima that I definitely started, I have no doubt about that, and we’re closer friends than the others on the team I’m pretty sure we went to the same middle school. There was no TikTok or instagram on my phone, I think there’s a Japanese version of instagram and I was using that instead. I did have Pinterest tho!

Uhhh idk what else to add. I remember being absolutely STUNNED by Akaashi tho, he’s genuinely the definition of a pretty boy. The best comparison in my mind is like Sunghoon from Enhypen but they don’t look alike, they just have a similar aura. Kuroo was very nice and very tall, Daichi is very fatherly but Suga moreso, I now he’s considered the “mom” in this reality but their dynamic with the team is more like good cop and bad cop. Daichi is always good cop but Suga can flip in an instant when it’s time to lock tf in. I did accidentally teach Nishinoya, Tanaka and Hinata about “lock in” and “locking in” and they were just starting to get annoying with it before I shifted back so…sorry to the rest of the team!

Honestly, it was kinda humid that day and I had to keep getting up and down to help with things so as time went by, the fun started to wear off and I started getting really annoyed😭 I shifted back because towards the end of the day, I was just picking up a bunch of miscellaneous balls that were thrown around the court and somebody deadass SPIKED a ball that almost hit me in the fucking head, I screamed. I did. After that I dropped all the volleyball in the bin, sat on the floor with my head in my hands trying to figure out how the fuck to shift back?? So I just closed my eyes, repeated “i need to go back original reality” a couple times and woke up again here.

If I didn’t answer something you want to know, message me anyway you want whether that be a comment or a pm or the “ask me anything” thing, I will try to answer to the best of my ability! Just remember that just because I’ve shifted doesn’t mean I’m like the know it all, Albert Einstein of this, I’m still learning as I go so..yeah! BYE!

[kabr0ztrousers]

Let me start off by saying that everything I've read from you so far has been amazing! Ok so I used to be terrified of clowns but now I adore them. Fem reader who is scared of clowns and super timid gets dragged to a fair by a friend. One of the clowns notices and tries to cheer her up maybe tripping over himself and just being goofy. He takes her to a tent and fucks her with his other clown friends showing her there's no reasons to fear clowns. Super fluffy please!

Kabr0z Writes Episode 37: Coulrophilia

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Clowns; intox; group sex; enthusiastic consent;

A/N: Clowns aren't a thing I naturally find sexy, so we'll see how this one goes. Thanks for the request either way!

There's 4 or 5 stories to get through before the ask box empties out, so please if you have a request or an idea, send an ask or a DM and it'll get added to the pile!

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If there's one thing that's always made your skin crawl, it's clowns. Not that there weren't things that didn't scare you otherwise, you've never quite had a head for heights and spiders can just generally do one, but clowns always made you uneasy. That said, here you were at the circus. Primary habitat of your natural enemy. Your friends had convinced you to tag along, placating you that it'd be fun and you wouldn't even see a clown unless you went into the big top.

They lied, of course. The place was crawling with clowns, seemingly everywhere you looked there were at least two or three. That along with your friends having disappeared almost as soon as you passed the ticket booth, you weren't having the best of times.

Something honked behind you. You tried to ignore it, but it honked again. One of those pale-faced freaks trying to get your attention. You turned to tell them to kindly sod off or point you to the exit.

The clown wasn't there, then another honk came from behind you. You turned again, still no clown. Another honk-honk. You quarter-turned, then shot back in time to see a young man with a greasepaint grin pratfall on front of you. You stifled a chuckle as the man feigned trying to get up a couple of times, each time comically failing in more audacious ways until with an impressive backflip, he landed on his feet, swaying dramatically.

"Well hel-lo there ma'am" His over-pronounced southern drawl was a bit much, but fit the vibe "Are ya havin' a good time?"

You smiled at him, "I'm not much for circuses, and I've lost my friends"

The clown mock-cried when you told him your predicament, pulling hanky after hanky out of his sleeves and dabbing at his eyes "Well, can't have that, can we? Would a balloon pal make it better?" Before you could respond he was already halfway through making a poodle from a long balloon, what could you do but accept it?

"What ya' gonna name him?"

"Squeak!" The name popped into your head. You noticed you're smiling now, the clown noticed it too

"That's a good name" he gave an exaggerated nod "Tell you what, I'll put out some feelers to find your pals, 'til then, would ya like to meet mine?"

You smiled and nodded. The clown produced a hobby horse from the baggy silks of his outfit and 'mounted' it "Well, just follow me, the Clown Ranger!" He galloped off, but not so fast you couldn't stay on his tails as he guided you through the throngs of people, pausing every so often to pull an attendant's ear or dazzle someone with a quick card trick.

Deeper and deeper into the circus you went, the music of the calliope organ getting louder as you drew towards the tents in the middle. The clown lifted a tent flap and motioned inside"After you, Mon Ami"

You stepped in, and blanched. If you thought outside was bad, this was clown central. Literally. A man on stilts was holding a clipboard, calling out commands to the garishly painted mob below, who was needed where, what tent needed a moment to set something up, whose act had gone awry and clowns had to pick up the slack. Your clown cowboy was behind you, fastening the flap back up and motioned to the stilted one.

The chief clown bent down to listen, perfectly balanced even though the stilts were as long as you were tall. He was dressed in black and white with a perfectly even white face besides a pair of exaggerated red lips and gleaming red nose. The lead clown nodded and leant down to you, he spoke with a faint French accent "So, you have lost your fellows, yes? Please tell me what they look like, we will let them know where you are"

You gave a description to the clown, who reared up and called it to the arrayed fools, buffoons and jesters before coming back to you "You are welcome to wait in here, Ranger Rick will keep you company. Enjoy!"

Your newfound clown friend took your hand and swept you to a quiet part of the tent "This is the green room," the accent was gone now, "a bit quieter for you. Wanna see some magic?"

You nodded and the clown grabbed a deck of cards, dazzling you with his sleight of hand, occasionally seeming to screw up a trick to make you laugh before pulling your card or a coin from somewhere seemingly impossible

A couple more clowns stepped into the room and joined in the fun, before long you were in tears of laughter as they riffed off one another.

The night dragged on, and your friends weren't found, the clowns reckoned they'd probably left the circus already. You couldn't help but feel bummed out at that, seeing as they dragged you there to begin with. It was only you, your cowboy and two others in the room, the cacophony from outside dying down.

You and the clowns were sat on some benches, passing around a hip flask, enjoying your own private after-party. The men in front of you were still cracking jokes, though the more they drank the bawdier they got. After recovering from a particularly vile gag about a priest, a nun, and a donkey, you felt butterflies in your stomach. Whatever was in the flask was strong. You'd always had a weakness for a man who could make you laugh, and you were always a bit too easy when you'd had a few drinks.

You budged up to the Clown Ranger, putting your arm behind him and giving an experimental pat on his ass. It was a lot firmer than those oversized trousers gave him credit for. You saw him blush a little despite his makeup as he looked bashfully away from you.

The other clowns noticed "Oi, oi! The cowboy's pulled!" The one on your left called out, thumbs in his suspenders, bowler hat perched on his head. The other just gave a deep belly laugh "He gets all the ladies, never any for us Bozos!"

You cocked an eyebrow at the one in the hat, then the other "You know, I've never had a four-way before..." You spoke as sweetly as you could, the liquor wasn't making it easy to mask your desire for the men around you.

The clowns looked at one another, speechless for the first time in the night. You blushed hard and hunched your shoulders, certain you'd killed the mood. You stood up to leave before you made a bigger fool of yourself.

You stopped when you saw the looks in their eyes. They were all trying to figure out if you were serious, or if you were just joking. You paused to make sure, and certain enough you could feel the desire in the looks they gave you.

Sod it.

You kissed the cowboy. Dragging him to his feet by his comedic lapels. He kissed back, one hand on your back, unfastening your bra through your shirt, the other gripping your ass.

The other two were standing too now, stroking your body as they gently undressed you. Button by button they unfastened your blouse, letting it fall to the sawdust floor before sliding off your bra, leaving you topless as you enjoyed the attention of the three men worshipping your body. You unbuttoned the cowboy's waistband and his pants fell, revealing white boxers patterned with love hearts, which you opened to pull out his cock. It was already rock hard in your hand, thick and uncircumcised. You started with the balls, licking and sucking them before licking all the way to the tip of his cock, savoring the scent of it as you went. The other two followed suit and exposed themselves to you. A cock in each hand and one in your mouth, you sucked and jerked them. All three men were panting over you as you went, feeling your wetness dripping from you and soaking into your underwear. You're glad you wore a skirt, your jeans would be ruined by now.

You pulled off your soaked panties and stood back up, still facing your cowboy as you pushed him back down onto the bench behind him before mounting him. His cock was throbbing against you as you rubbed it against your clit, coating it with your wetness before lining it up and sitting down on it.

He whimpered as it went in, the look of bliss on his face clashing with the painted rictus grin. The one in the hat held his cock beside you. You turned your head to suck it as you rode your cowboy, presenting your asshole to the final clown behind you.

You're not sure where he got a bottle of lube from, but you're glad he had it. The clown in your rear was the biggest of the three, gently pushing it in, stretching you out as you felt the two cocks frotting against one another inside you.

Hands were on every inch of you, your tits, your waist, the sides of your head, your own were busy on your clit and teasing the balls of the one in your mouth.

Your orgasm came easily, quickly followed by another and another, groans muffled by the cock you were sucking on as you buried the cock below you in your pussy. The cowboy must've felt it, you could feel him start to pulse and paint your cunt with his cum. You took the cock out of your mouth to pull his head to yours and kiss him as he dumped his load, pushing your tongue into his mouth. Next was the one in your ass, pushing himself deep into you before releasing into your guts, gripping your tits and squeezing as the last few humps exhausted him.

Finally the one in the hat brought himself off over your face. You opened your mouth to catch as much as you could, but you couldn't help loving the feeling of his cum spattering across your face in hot ropes.

You stayed for a moment, panting and sweating. Feeling the men going soft in you as their juices gently leaked out of you.

Then the one in the hat gave you a handkerchief. Then another. Then another.

"Sorry, they're all tied together"

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Pleasant clown gangbang. More plot that I expected, less than I could've done.

Once again, if you have a request, an idea, a fetish, whatever, drop an ask. As long as it's within the very minimal boundaries in my pinned, it'll probably get written, completely free of charge! It's literally a free commission!

One last note: I did a surprising amount of research on clown makeup for this, it's a fascinating world as it turns out, but cut most of it to avoid writing a treatise on clowning. Ah, well, maybe one day

[d0etickk]

Welcome to AntlerSoup! My little alternate universe of freaks, including Violet McCain and The Stag. Close ups under the cut.

V1 Jack's info!! Caligo infodump tagged under #AntlerSoupAU

Still ironing out his story! So here’s some facts.

Issac Jackson Novak. Jack, aka “Eyeless Jack”

Age: ~27. Height: 6’8. Ethnicity: Mainly Irish, Scottish, and Indian. Partly eldritch horror.

A child of Caligo. His ritual to become a Prophet was incomplete/a failure. Technically is considered undead, or in a “between” state. 

Hears Caligo and the other Prophet’s voices in broken, distant speech while not being able to communicate back, due to intentionally forcing the connection away. Knows very many things about the universe and the mortals he meets without his consent. Sometimes blurts this knowledge out in the moment—a Prophet’s habit.

Cold to the touch and largely unaffected by temperature. Though seeks and enjoys warmth.

Has an eloquent and vast vocabulary. Human anatomy nerd and former medical student.

Craves human flesh and partly needs it to survive. Only takes human organs when absolutely forced. Tries to do as little harm as possible when he does so, using his medical knowledge and collection of tools he has accumulated through time to keep everything as clean and painless as he can. Often labeled as an organ trafficker by local authorities.

His face splits in two, revealing tangling tentacle-like appendages used to trap prey and funnel it down his throat so he can swallow it like a snake. Also has shark-like teeth.

Eye sockets leak a tar-like substance near perpetually, but more when he is hungry or in distress. Wears a patched-up cultist mask mostly out of shame.

At his core, kindhearted and good natured. Forced to become distant and cold in order to protect those around him. Battles internally with his desire to reconcile his wrongdoings and help others, and the knowledge that nothing he can do will ever allow him to do that safely.

Complicated feelings about his existence. Feels a deep guilt for abandoning his upbringing and failing to play out his destiny as a Prophet, but deeply resentful and afraid of the harm the group does, and the harm he causes as the monster he became. Believes he is nothing but a cursed mistake.

Perpetually exhausted mentally and emotionally. Short patience for those uncaring of his boundaries or others.

Will avoid people as much as possible. Even then, he has his weak moments. It is difficult to hold onto one’s humanity while remaining isolated from society.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Surprising love.

Warning ⚠️; None, just fluff for once

Pairing; Alastor/Deer!Demon!Male!Reader

Summary; To everyone's shock and surprise, Alastor introduced you as his husband after the hotel was rebuilt. Chaos follow.

~~~~~~~~~

The hotel was more beautiful and grandiose than you imagined. Well, it was true that it had been rebuilt since the attack from Adam and his Angels, maybe for the better. Your eyes admired the place, wondering if your husband had had a say in some of the ideas. Like the radio tower clearly visible.

Holding a bag of food you just made, you walked inside the hotel. The first thing you saw Charlie hunched over the desk, writing on some papers with concentration painted all over her face. Poor princess didn't even hear you approaching even with your hooves clopping on the floor. You stopped in front of the desk, an amused smile on your lips as you slowly leaned down until you were at the same height as her.

- “Excuse me, princess. May I have your attention for a second?” You asked, resulting in poor Charlie almost jumping out if her skin and screaming.

You held back a laugh as she looked at you up and down, her hand resting on her chest as she calmed herself. You stood back, standing straight as you heard footsteps running toward you. You turned your head, seeing her father and girlfriend arrive first.

- “It's alright dad, Vaggie, he just scared me. Sorry! I didn't hear you coming in.” She excused herself, her breath short and you waved your hand as if it was nothing.

- “Do not worry yourself for so little, princess. I am used to scaring people.” You chuckled. “I was just wondering if my husband was around, I got him his favourite meal.”

Jambalaya made with angel’s meat as you knew he wanted to know what they tasted like. And Jambalaya had always been one of his favorites. Naturally, you didn't tell Charlie what it was made of.

She blinked, looking at you curiously.

- “Your husband?” She asked, slightly tilting her head as you wore no ring. “Who is he? I’ll look if he is registered!”

- “Oh, he definitely is.” You laughed before hearing familiar footsteps.

You turned your head only to see Alastor coming your way. Your smile grew, toothy, as Alastor stopped and smiled as well.

- “Oh Love! You came!” He said, rushing toward you.

Everyone stood frozen, eyes round with surprise as you embraced Alastor, planting a kiss on his hair. The radio demon wrapped his arms around you, his microphone resting against your back. You plunged your gaze in his and chuckled, showing the bag of food.

- “I made your favourite. Jambalaya.” You said and you saw excitation and joy in his eyes as he snatched the bag from your hand, giving your his microphone.

- “Wait, wait, wait! You and that freak? Alastor is married?” Vaggie asked, pointing at Alastor, than you.

- “Been for almost a century, darling. Nothing new there except that Jambalaya! You made a new recipe, didn't you?” He asked, smelling the bag.

- “Made it just for you.” You said, winking at him and Alastor got it instantly.

His smile grew as he kept the bag against his chest even if all eyes were on you. You almost felt uncomfortable, but decided to ignore them. They didn't truly know Alastor and your husband had the habit of keeping you a secret for your safety. After all, as an Overlord, he had many enemies.

You weren't powerless, but if it made Alastor feel better, then you didn't mind not existing. But now that he had invited you here and weren't denying your bond, even showing physical affection, you wondered who they all were to him.

You gently replaced his hair before turning your attention toward Charlie. She almost had stars in her eyes as she looked at you two, unlike her father who seemed to still be in shock.

- “Do you think it would be possible for me to join your Hotel? Of course, I will share the same room as Alastor.” You said, tilting your head while Alastor nodded as if you had asked him.

- “O-of course! It'll be a pleasure to have you around.” Charlie said, waving at you while Alastor took your hand, pulling you away.

You laughed, allowing Alastor to do as he pleased. In the elevator, you kissed your husband on the temple and he hummed, fingers playing on the bag. You could tell he was impatient to taste it.

- “Fresh angels from the battle. I got some in the freezer if you love it, so Incan makes you more meal.” You said, twinkles in your eyes.

- “Why? Thank you! It sweet of you dearest.” Alastor replied, looking at you with a true smile as you squeezed his hand gently.

Alastor took you to his room and you both made sure the door was locked before you got comfortable. Alastor immediately went to the dining table, putting the table and getting ready to eat as you took off your coat.

You joined him as he served the both of you a generous portion of Jambalaya. You ate and made small talk, asking him how his stay was and if his wound still bothered him. Alastor was honest, pointing out how bored he had been without you and that, in fact, yes the wound on his chest still bothered him sometimes.

After dinner, you took a look at his chest, finger brushing through his fur. Alastor stood still on his chair, a bit tense as you examined the healed wound. Still a bit reddish and swollen, it had healed properly.

- “Let’s put on some cream, but I don't see any sign of infection.” You said and Alastor nodded.

He stayed shirtless after you put on some cream and bandaged on his chest. You sat together on the sofa, your arms around him while he nuzzled himself against you. You turned on the radio and just enjoyed the music, cuddling with Alastor.

You felt your husband slowly fall asleep against you and you realized that he had truly missed you. Those small domestic moments were a joy to do again. You leaned down, kissing his forehead. You chuckled when Alastor grabbed your antler and lightly shook it.

No kissing, you got it. He had gotten enough and you knew he wasn't a fan of them, unlike you. You smiled, lifting your head, forcing his arm up, which had Alastor opening his eyes as he didn't let go of your antler.

- “You are falling asleep, let's just go to bed.” You offered and Alastor agreed.

You found yourself quickly in bed, Alastor in your arms and already fast asleep. Your fingers brushed his fur, your nose buried in his hair as you took in his smell. It had been months since the last time you slept next to your spouse and you had almost lost him recently. You felt that if you closed your eyes, he would disappear before you woke up. You fought sleep as long as you could, but finally gave in after a few hours.

You woke up to someone trying to get in the room, but the door was locked. Groaning, you opened your eyes and were greeted by the sight of Alastor nuzzled fully against you. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head rested under your chin and his breath tickled you while his legs tangled with yours. Alastor was still deeply asleep, unbothered by the stranger trying to break into your room.

Sighing, you caressed Alastor’s face before untangling yourself from his embrace. Alastor whined and groaned before turning around in almost a ball. You smiled and pulled the blankets over him before putting on a dressing gown and going to the door.

When you opened it you got face-to-face with a spider-like sinner. The man looked at you with big surprised eyes, as if he didn't expect you to open the door.

- “May I help you?” You asked, voice a bit cold.

- “Holy shit, it's true? Alastor is actually married?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes before pinching your nose. Were you really forced out of bed for that?

- “Yes, we are married.” You sighed, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe. “And you are a nosy spider, young man, coming here so early and forcing me out of bed. So is there something I can help you with or can I go back to sleep?”

- “How is Alastor in bed?” He asked with a big smile making you grunt in disgust.

- “Sleeping and that is none of your concern.” You pointed out.

- “Oh come on! Everyone is curious about how he is sexually speaking!”

- “Alastor had no interest in it neither do I. After the time he passed around you that most be clear.” You said with a sigh, shaking your head.

- “You gotta be kidding me. No sex?” he exclaimed, almost not believing it.

- “You know sex isn't the base of a healthy relationship, right? Not everyone needs it to be happy.”

It had taken you a few moments, but you recognized the man in front of you as a pornstar, Angel Dust if your memory was good. Of course, asexuality might be an alien concept for him, but you decided to not judge him for it.

You closed the door after making it clear the conversation was over and went back to bed. Naturally, Alastor had woken up by then and sat in the bed, waiting for you. You sat by his side, shaking your head.

- “Your friend Angel Dust came to see if it was true that you were married and decided it was the perfect time to ask about our sex life.”

You laughed seeing the disgust painting itself on Alastor’s face. You took his hand and kissed his knuckles before resting your cheek against them and smiled to him.

- “I told him a healthy relationship doesn't need sex, but I think it's a concept he doesn't understand yet.” You said and Alastor shook his head before resting it on your shoulder.

- “He really woke us for that?” He asked yawning as you nuzzled your nose in his hair. “I might beat his ass later today.”

- “Hush now. He is just a kid lost and who still has a lot to learn. I highly doubt he was raised properly in a loving family.” You whispered before laying back down. Alastor did the same, resting his head on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “Let’s forget about your friend, I’m still tired.”

Alastor hummed in agreement and you wrapped your arms tighter around him, making sure to not hurt him. You closed your eyes and were lured to sleep by your husband’s slow breath. As you fell asleep, you also felt at home. You were back where you belonged, by Alastor’s side and he was by yours once more. Seeing how clingy he was, you knew the feeling was reciprocal and you knew he would never leave you alone again.

[delucat]

25 Questions About Bloody Painter

1. Birthday? Height? Physique?

Born on October 1, 1980, under the Libra sign.

In the current storyline, he's about 26 years old.

He stands 178 cm tall with a well-built physique.

2. Favorite food and drink?

He loves sweets and cocoa; basically, he enjoys all kinds of chocolate.

In all official works, the brown drink you see him consuming is not coffee but cocoa.

3. What kind of scent does he have?

He uses perfume to mask the smell of formalin used in specimen preparation or the rusty smell of blood.

His preferred scent is oceanic.

4. His MBTI?

INTJ.

5. Preferred clothing style?

He likes simple and sleek outfits, often wearing colors in calm tones.

Also, the blue jacket he usually wears isn’t a trench coat; it’s a suit jacket.

6. Does he smoke or drink?

He doesn't smoke or drink because he finds the smell of smoke pungent and dislikes the bitter taste of alcohol.

If he has to drink, he prefers fruity soda-like alcohol or sweet cocktails that barely taste like alcohol (he has childlike taste preferences). His alcohol tolerance is average.

7. Does he listen to music? What genre?

He listens to almost anything and becomes particularly interested in music with unique styles from an artistic appreciation standpoint.

8. How does he kill?

He's a clean freak and dislikes making a mess at crime scenes.

His methods focus on easy cleanup, avoiding unnecessary torture of his victims.

9. Does he cook for himself? What type of dishes does he usually make?

He’s good at household chores and can prepare common Western dishes.

10. Favorite color?

Blue.

11. Does he watch TV shows or movies? What genres does he like?

Yes, he enjoys anything with innovative themes or visual techniques.

However, he dislikes romance dramas because he can't understand or relate to love, which makes them boring for him.

12. Is he a light or heavy sleeper?

He’s a night owl and a light sleeper, which causes his prominent dark circles.

13. When does he wear gloves?

He only wears gloves when handling objects or when he doesn’t want to leave fingerprints.

14. Preferred medium for painting?

For his public art, he prefers oil paints for oil paintings.

As for those darker pieces, he might mix in victims' blood or other substances.

15. Does he smile when he’s in a good mood?

Yes, but it’s rare for anyone to see it. Also, when he’s shy, he tries to hide his emotions by looking away, but his flushed cheeks and ears give him away.

16. Regarding character pairings?

In the 2018 version update, all pairings with other authors' OCs were removed to keep his story realistic. He is currently single.

However, fans are free to create any pairings in their fanworks.

17. Defining trait?

Selfishness.

18. Sexual orientation?

He identifies as agender, meaning he doesn’t feel tied to any particular gender. His attraction to others is based purely on his mood and feelings.

To put it simply, he doesn’t care about gender.

Also, agender ≠ asexual; he still has sexual desires but finds it difficult to develop intimate relationships due to his cautious nature (which likely means he's still a virgin).

19. In terms of intimacy?

He behaves gently and gentlemanly, but he has a deep-seated violent streak.

If his partner consents, he may become more dominant and leave marks, enjoying the sense of control.

20. Does he have possessiveness towards his partner?

Yes, but he respects his partner, so he wouldn’t try to control or limit them.

However, it’s clear when he’s jealous!

21. What was his childhood like?

He suffered severe mental abuse from his controlling mother, leaving him psychologically shattered, though his body bears no signs of physical abuse.

For more details, refer to the 2018 version story animation: https://youtu.be/AaHgY62-ggI

22. Would he make a good father?

Since he never experienced a normal family life, he doesn’t believe he would be a good father and doesn’t aspire to become one.

He thinks, "The world doesn’t need another me." However, he would make a great older brother or mentor.

23. Ethnicity and nationality?

The official story doesn’t specify his nationality, but he is ethnically white.

24. Is he really afraid of cockroaches?

He’s not afraid of insects and even makes insect specimens.

His fear of cockroaches stems more from his germaphobia than the insect itself, as he perceives them as dirty creatures.

25. Any other tidbits?

● He values manners, so he avoids cursing. Still, in moments of stress, he might accidentally let out a quiet curse. 

● When he’s alone and relaxed or happy, he hums to himself.

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Do you have any more questions about Bloody Painter?

Feel free to ask in the comments, and I’ll reply when I have time!