#he's climbing surprisingly well

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[solxamber]

Imagine having mc take care of dorm leaders that turned into animals like riddle a hedgehog, leona a lion, Azul a octopus, kalim an otter, vil would definitely be a peacock, idia would be a cat, and lastly malleus a dragon. They would definitely turned into animals due to some spell and I mean imagine seeing a huge dragon outside the ramshackle dorm, it would be really shocking and funny at the same time. 😆

Zoo Tycoon: Housewarden Edition

In which they accidentally turn into animals.

a/n: i started vibrating the minute I saw this because that's such a cute concept and I have no self control so here we go

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle turning into a hedgehog was not on your to-do list today. But alas, here you were, holding a furious, tomato-colored hedgehog that refused to be handled by anyone but you.

“Aw, look at his little face!” Ace cooed, leaning in way too close.

Riddle puffed up, his tiny spines bristling in pure indignation. You could practically feel the how dare you emanating from his quivering form.

Deuce, ever the voice of concern, scratched his head. “What do we do now? Can he… even turn back?”

Ace smirked. “Maybe we just keep him like this. He’s a lot cuter when he can’t yell at us.”

Riddle launched himself at Ace’s hand, delivering a swift poke with his needle-sharp snout. Ace yelped, flailing backward dramatically. “Okay, okay! Geez, he’s still scary even like this.”

You cradled Riddle closer to your chest, where he settled down, still glaring daggers at the others. Somehow, he was perfectly content in your hands, even though he practically vibrated with rage whenever anyone else got near.

As the day went on, Riddle’s hedgehog antics only grew.

At lunch, he sat on your lap, sniffing your sandwich like a tiny food inspector. “You want a bite?” you teased, holding out a crumb.

His tiny paw batted it away with a disdainful look. Well, as disdainful as a hedgehog could manage. He turned his head toward the teapot, making his intentions very clear.

“Oh, of course. Tea for the hedgehog,” Ace snorted. “This is getting ridiculous.”

Later, in the library, Riddle climbed onto your textbook, curling up into a spiky ball to block your reading. You tried to nudge him gently. “Riddle, I need to study.”

He uncurled just enough to glare at you, his beady eyes burning with absolute authority. Message received: study time was over.

By nightfall, you were exhausted. Riddle was perched on a pillow next to you, looking surprisingly regal for a tiny woodland creature.

“Alright, Your Majesty,” you said, rubbing your temples. “How do we turn you back? Should we call Professor Crewel? Or maybe Professor Trein?”

Riddle chirped in protest, clearly not a fan of either option.

Deuce had another bright idea. “What if it’s, like, a true love’s kiss thing? Isn’t that how these fairy tale curses usually work?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

But Riddle fixed you with a surprisingly intense hedgehog stare, his little nose twitching.

“Wait, are you… agreeing?” you asked, mildly horrified.

Ace snickered. “Do it. Kiss the hedgehog. For science.”

After much internal debate (and external heckling), you sighed and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Riddle’s tiny forehead.

There was a burst of light, and suddenly, you were nose-to-nose with a very human, very flustered Riddle Rosehearts.

He scrambled backward, covering his face with his hands. “W-well, that was… unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” you echoed. “You asked for it!”

Ace howled with laughter in the background. “So it was true love’s kiss! You two are so gross!”

Riddle glared at him, but his ears were still bright red as he turned to you. “I suppose… I owe you my gratitude. And, um…” He cleared his throat, fidgeting. “Would you—if it’s not too much trouble—consider going out with me?”

You blinked. “Wait, you’re asking me out now?”

Riddle crossed his arms. “You did kiss me. It’s only proper!”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Sure, Hedgehog Prince. Let’s go on a date.”

Riddle muttered something about proper decorum, but his small smile said he wasn’t too upset about it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona turning into an actual lion wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened this week, but it was definitely in the top five.

“C’mon, Prefect.” Ruggie grinned as he all but shoved you into Leona’s room, slamming the door behind you before you could protest. “I got stuff to do, and someone’s gotta deal with him. He only listens to you anyway!”

You turned to find Leona—the lion version—lounging on his bed like the world’s crankiest housecat. His massive paws stretched lazily, his eyes locking onto you with the unmistakable air of finally, someone competent.

“Uh, hi, Leona,” you ventured, waving awkwardly.

He grumbled, a low rumble of approval that shook the floorboards, and flicked his tail in a way that said, Don’t leave.

It became clear very quickly that Lion Leona was just as much of a diva as Human Leona.

First, he refused to eat the steak that Ruggie brought him, pawing at it disdainfully until you had to personally cut it into perfect bite-sized pieces. He made a satisfied grunt after his meal, flopping down at your feet like you were the royal food taster he’d personally hired.

Then, there was the grooming incident.

“Leona, you have something stuck in your mane,” you said, pointing to a suspicious tangle.

He gave you a look that said, And?

Sighing, you grabbed a brush and carefully worked out the knot. To your shock, Leona let out a rumble that sounded suspiciously similar to a purr.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He blinked slowly, the feline equivalent of a smirk.

Ruggie, ever the opportunist, couldn’t resist stopping by to witness the chaos.

“Wow, Prefect, he’s basically a giant kitten with you around,” Ruggie teased, leaning against the doorframe.

Leona growled, a low warning rumble that sent Ruggie scurrying back. “Okay, okay! Sheesh, no need to get territorial. Have fun babysitting!”

You sighed, scratching behind Leona’s ears. “You’re really not helping my case, y’know.”

Leona just huffed and leaned into your touch, clearly unbothered.

By the end of the day, you were sprawled on the bed next to Leona, who was taking up approximately 80% of the mattress.

“You’re kinda cute like this,” you admitted, running your fingers through his mane. “Not that you’re not cute normally, but… y’know. Less grumpy.”

He gave you a look that somehow conveyed I am never not grumpy.

Feeling bold (and maybe a little delirious from exhaustion), you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.

There was a sudden, blinding flash of light, and before you could process what was happening, Leona was back in his human form, lounging beside you with his trademark smirk.

“Well, well,” he drawled, propping himself up on one elbow. “Didn’t know you felt that way, herbivore.”

You spluttered. “I—what—this was true love’s kiss?! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—”

He leaned closer, cutting off your rant with a low chuckle. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now. So… dinner? Or are you gonna keep brushing my hair all night?”

Your brain short-circuited, but you managed a weak, “Dinner sounds good.”

Leona smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Smart choice.”

From outside, Ruggie’s muffled voice shouted, “Hey, did it work? Can I come back now, or is he still a murder machine?”

Leona groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Sevens, someone muzzle that guy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into Leona’s side. Maybe being stuck with him wasn’t such a bad deal after all.

Azul Ashengrotto

To be fair, you weren’t exactly surprised when Jade and Floyd ambushed you outside Mostro Lounge. Their grins alone screamed mischief.

“Shrimpy~,” Floyd sing-songed, grabbing you by the arm. “C’mon, we need your help.”

“Azul’s having a little… situation,” Jade added with a cryptic smile. “And we think you’re the only one who can help.”

Before you could protest, you were unceremoniously dragged into Mostro Lounge, through a hidden door, and deposited in front of a massive aquarium. Inside was—

“Is that an octopus?” you asked, squinting.

The octopus—no, wait, Azul—floated pathetically in the corner, looking as done with life as an eight-legged creature could manage.

“Yep,” Floyd said cheerfully. “Boss turned himself into an octopus. Wouldn’t let anyone near him, though, so…”

Jade handed you a bottle filled with suspiciously glowing liquid. “Breathing potion. You’re going in.”

“Excuse me?!”

Before you could escape, Floyd picked you up like a sack of potatoes and dumped you into the tank.

You flailed briefly, realizing the potion worked—thank Sevens—but also realizing you were now face-to-face with Octopus Azul.

“Uh, hi?” you ventured, swimming awkwardly closer.

Azul didn’t respond, but one of his tentacles twitched and pointedly smacked the glass. You got the impression he was saying Why me?

“It’s not like I asked for this, y’know!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Your goons threw me in here!”

Azul floated closer, his large, round eyes narrowing as if to say Yes, and they will pay.

It didn’t take long for Azul to warm up to you, mostly because he realized you weren’t leaving.

“Are you sulking?” you teased after his sixth dramatic float to the other side of the tank.

A tentacle flicked water in your direction, splashing you.

“Hey!” You swam closer and poked him on the head. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Azul responded by curling a tentacle around your wrist, pulling you closer.

“Okay, fine, you’re cute,” you muttered, patting his squishy head. “There, happy?”

Azul’s tentacles tightened slightly, and you were 90% sure he was smug about it.

After what felt like hours of tentacle shenanigans (including one terrifying moment where Azul tried to steal your potion bottle), you sighed.

“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” you said, booping his forehead.

Azul blinked at you, his gaze softer than usual. He looked so pitiful and huggable that, without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.

There was a bright flash, and suddenly you were face-to-face with human Azul, who was sitting awkwardly in the shallow end of the tank, his face as red as a lobster.

“W-What did you just—”

“Oh my Sevens, you’re back!” you interrupted, relief washing over you. “Thank goodness, I thought I’d have to live in here forever!”

Azul cleared his throat, clearly flustered. “I—thank you. For… that.”

“No problem,” you said breezily, though your face felt like it was on fire.

Azul hesitated, fiddling with his glasses. “Would you, ah, perhaps… accompany me to dinner? As a token of gratitude, of course!”

“Sure,” you said, smiling. “But only if you promise to stop turning yourself into an octopus.”

He flushed even deeper, complaining something about “unavoidable circumstances,” but you couldn’t help laughing. Maybe dating an occasionally-octopus Azul wouldn’t be so bad.

From outside the tank, Floyd’s voice rang out: “Aww, Boss finally grew a backbone! Way to go, Shrimpy!”

Azul groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m never hearing the end of this.”

You patted his shoulder. “Welcome to my life.”

Kalim Al-Asim

You really should have known something was wrong when Jamil showed up at your doorstep, eyes bloodshot and twitching slightly.

“I need your help,” he said, and those four words alone should’ve been your cue to lock the door and pretend you weren’t home.

But you didn’t, and that’s how you ended up sitting in Kalim’s opulent room, staring at a very excited otter splashing around in a gold-lined kiddie pool.

“You’re telling me Kalim turned himself into this?” you asked, pointing at the small, slippery creature currently attempting to roll onto his back and failing.

“Yes,” Jamil said, deadpan, rubbing his temples. “And he refuses to let anyone near him. Except apparently you.”

Kalim—the otter—perked up at the sound of your voice, flipping over and waddling toward you. He made a happy chirping sound before flopping dramatically onto your lap, his tiny paws grabbing at your shirt.

“See?” Jamil muttered, folding his arms. “This is why you’re staying here. I can’t deal with this anymore.”

Kalim was, to put it mildly, a handful.

One moment, he was contentedly snuggling in your lap, and the next, he was zooming across the floor, knocking over priceless vases and dragging an entire silk curtain into his pool.

“Uh, Kalim?” you called, watching as he tried to balance a sparkling golden spoon on his nose. “Maybe we don’t need to destroy the room?”

Kalim chirped in protest, clearly having the time of his life. He then waddled over to you, clutching the spoon like it was a treasure, and deposited it in your lap with a proud squeak.

“Well, at least he’s sharing,” you muttered, patting his head.

From the corner, Jamil was silently mouthing “thank you” over and over like a man who had just been freed from a lifetime of torment.

Kalim’s kiddie pool was more like a miniature lagoon, complete with floating toys and what looked suspiciously like a jewel-encrusted raft.

At some point, Kalim decided it would be fun to drag you into the water.

“Hey—wait, no!” you yelped as his surprisingly strong little paws grabbed at your sleeve, pulling you toward the pool. “I’m not getting in there!”

Kalim chirped insistently, his big otter eyes boring into your soul.

“Oh, come on,” you groaned. “Don’t give me that look.”

He gave you the look.

Five minutes later, you were sitting in the pool, soaked and glaring at Jamil, who was clearly struggling not to laugh.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you snapped.

“Immensely,” Jamil said, smirking.

After hours of otter chaos—during which Kalim managed to steal your shoe, splash water in your face, and attempt to juggle three golden coins—you finally sat back with a sigh.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, patting his head as he snuggled against you.

Kalim let out a happy chirp, his little paws clutching your hand. He looked so ridiculously adorable that, without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.

There was a sudden burst of light, and when you opened your eyes, Kalim was sitting in front of you, back to his usual self—though still dripping wet and grinning ear to ear.

“You kissed me!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up like the sun.

“I—uh—well,” you stammered, your face heating up.

“Does this mean you like me?” he asked, tilting his head with an innocent smile.

Before you could respond, Jamil groaned from the corner. “Sevens, just ask them out already.”

Kalim turned to you, his grin widening. “Will you go out with me?”

You blinked at him, still processing the fact that you had just kissed an otter-turned-human. But then you smiled, nodding.

“Sure, Kalim.”

Kalim cheered, pulling you into a hug that nearly knocked you over. Meanwhile, Jamil sighed in relief, celebrating about finally getting some peace and quiet.

From the doorway, a passing student peeked in, took one look at the drenched mess of a room, and decided it was better not to ask.

Vil Schoenheit

The day Vil Schoenheit turned into a peacock was the day you realized that your life at NRC was destined to never be normal.

“I don’t know how it happened!” Epel blurted, waving his hands in panic. “One second he was lecturing me about my skincare routine, and the next—poof! Peacock!”

“Of course, he’s a peacock,” you muttered, staring at the magnificent bird perched on the Pomefiore chaise lounge. The peacock in question—Vil—looked at you with a familiar haughty glare, which was impressive considering he now had beady bird eyes.

From the very beginning, Vil made it clear that he refused to be handled by anyone except you.

When Rook tried to approach him with a soothing poem about the beauty of nature, Vil screeched so loudly it sent even the huntsman scrambling.

When Epel tried to shoo him toward the door, Vil flared his tail feathers in a display so intimidating that Epel backed away, muttering, “This is worse than when he makes me wear lip gloss.”

But when you stepped forward, Vil immediately strutted over, his glossy feathers shimmering under the light. He circled you once before settling at your feet, letting out a dignified coo.

“Well, at least someone likes me,” you muttered, kneeling down to pat his head.

Vil preened under your touch, looking every bit the diva he was even in bird form.

Life with peacock Vil was… an adventure.

For one, he refused to eat anything that wasn’t served on fine china.

“Are you serious?” you asked, holding up a bowl of birdseed.

Vil turned his head away with a disdainful chirp, his tail feathers twitching in annoyance.

“Fine,” you groaned, dumping the seed onto a porcelain plate. “Happy now?”

Vil cooed in approval, delicately pecking at the food like it was a Michelin-star meal.

Then there was the incident with the mirror.

You found him perched in front of the Pomefiore vanity, admiring his reflection with an intensity that could only be described as borderline obsessive.

“You’re really leaning into the peacock thing, huh?” you teased.

Vil shot you a look that screamed How dare you, you pleb? before returning to his reflection, fluffing his feathers dramatically.

After a few days of peacock antics—including Vil refusing to let Epel touch his feathers (Glaring at him like he was screaming "He’s going to ruin them!”) and scaring off an unfortunate group of first-years with his aggressive tail display—you decided enough was enough.

“Alright, Vil,” you said, sitting down beside him. “We need to figure out how to fix this.”

Vil cooed softly, nuzzling against your hand.

You stared at him, your heart melting a little. He was undeniably cute in his current form, but you missed the human Vil—the one who could scold you for slouching and deliver a flawless monologue at the drop of a hat.

Without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his feathered head.

There was a blinding flash of light, and suddenly, you were no longer holding a peacock but a very human—and very flustered—Vil Schoenheit.

“You… kissed me,” he said, his cheeks turning an uncharacteristic shade of pink.

“I—uh—well, you were cute?” you offered weakly.

Vil blinked at you, his usual composure slipping as he processed your words. Then, to your surprise, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Perhaps we should make this official,” he said smoothly, though the faint blush on his face betrayed his nerves. “Would you like to go out with me?”

You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting for a moment. Then, you smiled, nodding.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Vil’s smile widened, and for the first time since he’d turned back, you saw the confident, radiant Vil you knew and admired.

From the doorway, Rook peeked in, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Ah, the beauty of true love!”

Epel groaned, muttering, “This is the weirdest dorm ever.”

Idia Shroud

The day you were unceremoniously dragged into Idia’s room by Ortho, you knew something was amiss.

Ortho clasped his hands together as you stumbled inside. "Please take good care of Big Brother!"

“Wait, what?” you started, but Ortho was already zooming out the door, leaving you alone in the darkened chaos that was Idia’s sanctuary.

And there, sitting in the middle of the room on a glowing gaming chair, was a cat.

A very grumpy-looking cat with blue flame-like fur tips and unmistakable, judgmental yellow eyes.

“Idia?” you whispered, staring at the cat.

The cat hissed—its ears flat against its head. Yep, that was definitely Idia.

"Ortho wasn’t joking…" you muttered, inching closer.

Idia-the-cat glared at you, his tail swishing like a disapproving metronome. But as soon as you reached out a cautious hand, he hesitated before begrudgingly letting you scratch behind his ears.

He let out the tiniest, most reluctant purr.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, your grin growing. “You’re so cute like this.”

The purring immediately stopped, and Idia swatted your hand away with a mortified meow that screamed, Don’t push it.

It didn’t take long for you to realize Idia-the-cat was just as much of a shut-in as his human counterpart.

When you tried to offer him some cat toys Ortho had left behind, he ignored them completely—until you dangled a toy shaped like a gaming controller.

Then, he lunged at it with surprising ferocity, claws out and eyes gleaming with an intensity that said, This is serious business.

You had to stop him from knocking over his prized figurines while he chased the toy across the room.

“Idia, stop! That’s a limited edition!” you cried, diving to save a teetering anime girl statue.

Idia froze mid-pounce, his tail twitching guiltily.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you said, setting the figure back on its shelf. “You’re worse than Grim.”

Idia meowed in protest, and you could swear he was rolling his eyes.

After a few hours of babysitting Cat Idia—during which he refused to eat anything but snacks from his secret stash and managed to trap himself inside a VR headset—you were completely exhausted.

You flopped onto his bed, sighing. “Idia, you're my friend, but you’re so much work.”

The cat jumped up beside you, curling into a surprisingly neat ball. His flame-like fur glowed softly in the dim light, and for a moment, he actually looked peaceful.

Unable to resist, you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his head.

There was a sudden flash of blue light, and you yelped as a very human—and very embarrassed—Idia Shroud appeared beside you.

“W-What just happened?!” he stammered, his face as red as his fiery hair tips.

You blinked at him, your brain struggling to reboot. “Uh… I think true love’s kiss broke the curse?”

Idia froze, his expression cycling between mortified and completely panicked.

“Wait, d-does that mean you… like me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because if you don’t, I-I’m just gonna go dig my own grave now—”

You cut him off with a laugh, your cheeks burning. “Yeah, I like you, you dummy.”

Idia stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then, after a moment, he managed a small, shy smile.

“I… like you too,” he mumbled, fiddling with a lock of his hair. “So, uh… do you maybe wanna… go out? Like, on a d-date or something?”

Your heart did a little flip. “I’d love that.”

From the doorway, Ortho peeked in, his face lighting up. “Brother, I knew you could do it! This is the best day ever!”

Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Ortho, please!”

But despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t stop the small smile that lingered on his lips.

Malleus Draconia

The day began like any other—except for the part where a massive dragon blocked the sunrise by parking itself right outside your window.

You blinked blearily, rubbing your eyes. Surely, this was a dream.

Then you heard an enthusiastic voice from below. "Good morning! Do you like your new dragon?"

You leaned out the window to see none other than Lilia Vanrouge, waving up at you with far too much cheer for this absurd situation. Beside him, Sebek was on his knees, his fists clenched, eyes practically bleeding tears of devotion—or frustration. Hard to tell with Sebek.

“Lilia,” you called down, “what the hell is that?” You pointed at the dragon, who was now looking at you with suspiciously familiar glowing green eyes.

“Oh, that’s Malleus!” Lilia replied, as though this was completely normal. “He seems to have had a little… magical mishap.”

“MISTAKE OF FATE, NOT A MISHAP!” Sebek roared, glaring up at you like it was somehow your fault. “AND THE YOUNG MASTER HAS CHOSEN YOU TO TEND TO HIS NOBLE FORM!”

You stared at the dragon—Malleus—again. His enormous tail thudded against the ground in what you could only assume was agreement.

“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”

After some coaxing (read: being dragged out by Sebek while you were still in your pajamas), you found yourself face-to-face with Dragon Malleus.

He lowered his massive head toward you, his glowing eyes narrowing in what you could only describe as smugness. When you hesitated, he huffed, a cloud of warm smoke billowing over you.

“Okay, okay, I get it! You want attention,” you grumbled, reaching up to pat his snout.

The dragon let out a low rumble of approval, curling his tail protectively around you.

Sebek sobbed dramatically in the background. “TO THINK THE YOUNG MASTER TRUSTS YOU ABOVE ALL OTHERS! IT IS BOTH AN HONOR AND A TRAVESTY!”

“Sebek, for the love of the Seven, stop yelling,” you snapped. “I already have a headache.”

Lilia chuckled from his perch on a nearby tree. “Oh, this is delightful. I wonder if I should be worried for you or amused by Malleus’s possessiveness.”

Dragon Malleus growled at Lilia, his tail sweeping protectively in front of you like a giant scaly barrier.

“Noted, noted!” Lilia said with a laugh, holding up his hands.

After a day of being followed around by a giant dragon who wouldn’t let you out of his sight (and growled at anyone who dared approach), you were officially at your wit’s end.

“Malleus,” you said, crossing your arms. “I know you’re stuck like this, but you can’t just… kidnap me for emotional support!”

Malleus blinked at you, his big dragon eyes somehow managing to look both sheepish and stubborn.

You sighed, stepping closer. “You’re kind of cute like this, though,” you admitted, reaching up to scratch his snout. His eyes half-closed in contentment, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

Then, on a whim, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his scaly cheek.

There was a sudden burst of magic, and you stumbled back as the massive form of the dragon shimmered and shrank. In its place stood a very human—and very flustered—Malleus Draconia.

“Child of Man,” he said, his face uncharacteristically red. “Your… your kiss… it broke the spell.”

You stared at him, your brain buffering. “Wait, true love’s kiss was the answer?!”

Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed.”

From behind you, Lilia cackled. “Oh, how romantic! A tale for the ages!”

Sebek, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “T-T-THE YOUNG MASTER’S TRUE LOVE?! UNBELIEVABLE!”

Malleus stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “If this spell has revealed anything, it is that my feelings for you are genuine. Will you allow me to court you properly?”

You blinked, your face heating up. “Uh… yeah. Sure. But maybe next time, we skip the whole ‘giant possessive dragon’ thing?”

Malleus chuckled, taking your hand. “Anything for you, my treasure.”

Sebek fainted on the spot.

Masterlist

[wileycap]

Selected Excerpts From The Fire Nation Royal Palace Servants' (Unofficial) Handbook

Or: Revisions To Normal Protocol After The Ascension Of Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko

1. Agni's Exalted Flame, The Dragon Of The Sun, et cetera, Fire Lord Zuko should not be referred to by his full titles and styles, no matter the context. This appears to annoy him. "Fire Lord Zuko" and "Lord Zuko" are acceptable, as well as "your majesty" and "my Lord".

1.1 "Lord Hotman", however, is unacceptable.

1.2. Even if the Avatar specifically requests you to address Fire Lord Zuko as that.

1.3. In fact, any attempts by the Avatar, the Lady Beifong, the honorable Tribesman Sokka or even Master Katara to get you to address Fire Lord Zuko by anything other than his proper title should be disregarded.

1.4. Referring to Ozai of the Fire Nation (titles rmvd, dishon.) as "The Loser Lord", however, is acceptable.

2. Fire Lord Zuko is aware of the concept of mortality, but does not seem to understand how it relates to His Majesty. Following activities should be discouraged: Free climbing, glider usage, contact with exotic animals larger than a turtleduck (or smaller, if the animal is known to be venomous), amateur theatre productions, cooking, sailing, spelunking, botany, please see full list in the Matron's office.

2.1. It should be noted that His Majesty's belief that mortality does not apply to him does not appear to be completely unfounded. After several "close calls", it has been decided that upon his demise, Fire Lord Zuko should lie in state for at least two weeks.

2.1.1. We do not want another incident.

3. The turtleducks in the Western Pond do not need to be fed by the servants any more.

3.1. However, the turtleducks should be rotated out at regular intervals in order to prevent overfeeding.

4. At any official social functions, at least three servants should be vigilant in case His Majesty tries to tell a joke.

4.1. It should be noted that there is no concern for His Majesty's jokes being offensive, crass or otherwise contrary to good taste. They are simply very bad. His Majesty always ends up embarrassed.

5. Any children left unattended in the Royal Palace for more than 15 degrees can be retrieved from the Fire Lord's office.

6. Should His Majesty go missing, the following places should be searched: roofs and any high places, cellars and secret passages, the fur of the Avatar's sky bison (which is surprisingly deep), and every place that an ordinary five-year-old would think to hide in during a game of "Hide and Explode."

6.1. All of the Imperial Firebenders as well as any soldier who wears a mask during the course of their duties should be questioned.

6.1.1. Important note: Some of the soldiers who are especially close to His Majesty can perform a passable imitation of him. Efforts should be made to prevent an uneducated soldier from, say, conducting a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture.

6.2. After the recent incident, that list is expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors and any other groups that might wear concealing full face paint.

6.3. If all of these measures prove ineffective, a letter should be sent to The Dragon of the West, Prince Iroh, asking His Highness to return His Majesty.

6.4. If a ransom note is delivered, it should be immediately checked against the handwriting samples from the honorable Tribesman Sokka as well as Avatar Aang, before any other actions are taken.

6.4.1. Replying "Good luck, he's your problem now" to a ransom note is absolutely unacceptable.

6.4.1.1. To further drive home the point, the Royal Archives are required by law to preserve every single piece of royal correspondence. That thing will end up in a museum.

This handbook will be updated should it prove necessary.

[misswynters]

Ma Meilleure Amour

featuring. ekko x fem!reader

a/n. doing my duty as a writer to fill the ekko tag with fics of him only (it’s translated to my best love)

inspired by. the song Ma Meilleure Ennemie and the scene with ekko and jinx in act iii (listen to it while reading)

Everything felt different. The streets of Zaun had the ever-present haze of smog seem softer, its grim edge dulled by the warm hum of neon lights. The streets bustled with life, as they always did, but the night gave the chaos a certain charm. The glow of green and pink signs reflected off damp cobblestones, while the occasional flicker of a malfunctioning lamp sent ripples of color through shallow puddles.

You walked side by side with Ekko, your steps slow and aimless, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn’t, of course. With how Zaun always had a way of reminding you that the clock never stopped ticking. But right now, under the swirl of lights and the faint hiss of steam vents, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.

Ekko’s hand brushed against yours every so often, and though he wasn’t one to initiate touch easily, you could tell he didn’t mind the closeness. He always had this way of being effortlessly cool, his swagger and wit making it seem like nothing fazed him. But you knew him better than most. You saw the weight he carried, the pressure of being a leader, a fighter, and a kid all at once. And tonight, you were determined to remind him what it felt like to just…be.

“Ever think Zaun’s kinda pretty at night?” you mused, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ekko glanced at you, one eyebrow raised, before looking around. “Pretty? Dunno if I’d call it that. More like…gritty with a side of a green glow.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Says the one waxing poetic about this place,” he shot back, his grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, maybe I’m seeing it through rose-colored glasses. Or maybe I just like walking around with you.”

That earned a chuckle from him, the sound low and warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned closer to you. “Well, when you put it that way…” The two of you wandered through winding alleys and across rickety bridges, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil. Every so often, Ekko would point out a shortcut he’d used for one of his time-bending escapades or share a story about an adventure with the Firelights.

But then he led you down a narrow path you hadn’t noticed before, his fingers brushing yours briefly to guide you. At the end of the path, you stepped into a beautiful hidden oasis. A rooftop garden tucked away from Zaun’s usual grit and grime. The first thing you noticed was the lights. Strings of mismatched lanterns crisscrossed the space, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. Tiny fairy lights were woven through the vines that climbed up makeshift trellises, their warm flicker like little stars in the night. The plants themselves were a mix of scrappy greenery and surprisingly vibrant flowers, their colors popping against the muted tones of the city below.

“Woah…” you breathed, turning to him with wide eyes.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a spot I’ve been working on.”

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from yours. “Figured it’d be nice to have a place to get away, y’know? Somewhere quiet.”

You stepped forward, taking it all in. A small wooden bench sat in the center of the garden, its surface worn but sturdy. Around it, the plants swayed gently in the cool breeze, their leaves catching the light just enough to shimmer.

“Come on,” Ekko said, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back as he guided you to the bench. “I didn’t bring you here just to stand around.”

You sat down, the wood creaking softly under your weight. Ekko settled beside you, close enough that his knee pressed against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the lights and the distant sounds of Zaun filling the space. It was a working pattern. There was always a comfortable silence between the two of you.

“How long have you been working on this?” you asked softly.

“Couple months,” he said, leaning back with his arms stretched across the bench. “Takes a while to get plants to grow in a place like this. But I dunno…it feels good to build something, y’know? Instead of just tearing things down.”

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his voice. Ekko didn’t let people see this side of him often though. I mean this was the boy who dreamed of a better Zaun, the one who carried the weight of his community on his shoulders.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just like you.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, huh?”

“Just telling the truth,” you said, closing your eyes as his warmth seeped into you.

The two of you sat like that for a while, wrapped up in the stillness of the garden. Ekko’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, like you were always meant to fit together.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For, y’know…being here.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Of course,” you said softly while winking. “You’re worth it, Ekko.”

His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, the golden light casting shadows across his face. Then he smiled. It was real, genuine smile that made your chest feel light and full all at once.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you leaned into him.

“This is nice,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “It is.”

There it was again, the comfortable silence. The garden was quiet, bathed in the golden light of the mismatched lanterns. You rested your head on Ekko’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you. His fingers were still intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing small, absentminded circles against your knuckles.

It was peaceful, almost too perfect for Zaun, where tranquility was a rare luxury. The hum of distant machinery and the faint chatter of the streets below were a backdrop to your own private world. You thought this was it, that the night couldn’t get any better. But Ekko had other plans.

Suddenly, he shifted away from you, his weight leaving the bench as he stood. His warmth leaving your body. You blinked up at him, confused as he turned to face you, his signature grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He extended a hand toward you, palm up, the glow of the garden lights reflecting in his dark eyes.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice soft but brimming with an irresistible playfulness.

You tilted your head, a laugh escaping you. “Dance? Here?”

“Why not?” He wiggled his fingers, urging you to take his hand.

You hesitated, glancing around. “Ekko, there’s no music.”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith.”

Reaching into his pocket, Ekko pulled out a small, beaten up speaker, a relic salvaged from some forgotten corner of Zaun. He fiddled with it for a moment before a warm melody crackled to life, filling the air with a gentle rhythm.

You stared at him in disbelief, your lips parting in surprise. “You planned this?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably as a proud smile broke through. “Maybe.”

Shaking your head with a soft laugh, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “Alright, Clockstopper,” you teased. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Ekko pulled you to your feet, guiding you to the center of the garden. The music swelled around you, soft and sweet, a contrast to the chaos of Zaun. His other hand found its place on your waist, and he held you close, his movements easy and unhurried. At first, you tried to match his rhythm, your steps tentative as you followed his lead. But it wasn’t long before your foot accidentally landed on his.

“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, pulling back slightly.

Ekko winced dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “You’re killing me here,” he said, his voice laced with mock pain.

You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“Baby?” He laughed, spinning you unexpectedly. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, the sound of your shared laughter echoing in the garden.

The two of you continued like that, swaying and spinning under the lanterns. Every so often, you’d step on his foot again, and he’d exaggerate his reaction, making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. But then, as the song shifted to a slower melody, Ekko’s movements became gentler, more deliberate. He pulled you closer, your bodies impossibly near. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of zauns atmosphere lingering on him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The golden light reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer like they held their own constellation. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something raw and real that made your heart stutter.

“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

He didn’t say anything, just leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with everything words couldn’t express. Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around your waist. The world seemed to tilt, the glow of the lanterns and the soft hum of the music swirling around you in a haze of light and sound.

Time felt irrelevant—ironic, considering who you were with. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure.

Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lights around you. Smiling, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too,” you said, the words as natural as breathing.

Ekko grinned, his hands tightening around your waist as he pressed a series of quick, playful kisses to your face—your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. Each kiss was accompanied by a soft giggle from you, his affection spilling over in a way that was so uniquely him.

“Ekko, stop,” you laughed, trying to pull away as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Never,” he said, his voice full of mock defiance as he caught your lips in another kiss.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. The music played on, the lights flickered, and Zaun’s ever-present hum seemed softer, almost distant. As the night stretched on, you found yourselves back on the bench, your head resting on Ekko’s shoulder as he absentmindedly played with your fingers. The garden felt like a dream, a little slice of peace carved out of the chaos. And in that moment, with Ekko by your side and the glow of the lanterns above you, everything felt right. Almost perfect.

banners. @anitalenia

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

[chaoticwriting]

Lex Luthor is not an unknown name in the world, especially Metropolis. It's just that for the past half decade he has been very quiet. The cause? Maybe because he just found out that he has a son.

Enter Daniel James Luthor. A bright young man with a genius intellect rivaling his father. Daniel or Danny as he prefers to be called is very famous among the people of Metropolis. People would think as the son of Lex, he would be an arrogant young man. But he is in fact very friendly and kind. He is often seen helping some old lady's cross the street or hanging around with other kids . There are also pictures of him online, asking Cassandra Cain-Wayne, the adopted daughter of Bruce Wayne out on a date. The way he smiles nervously and blushes in embarrassment makes people laugh and sees him just as another citizen of Metropolis.

People also attributed the massive changes in Lexcorp as Danny's. Lexcorp has been climbing the worker friendly environment ranking and almost being ranked the same with Wayne Enterprise. Lex Luthor has also made less derogatory comments on aliens and metas. Of course he sometimes still insults Superman in an interview but the insults now sound more personal than before.

At the same time all of this is happening, a new hero has entered Metropolis. He calls himself Phantom. With multiple powers that might make people mistake him as a martian if not for his white skin and black and white clothing, he has helped Metropolis many times and is very popular among the people.

His first appearance was during the invasion of Darkseid and he played a major role in making Darkseid retreat back to his planet. His popularity continues to rise as he is much more friendly than other heroes in Metropolis. Unlike other heroes, he stays to chat with them whenever he helps people. It makes the people of Metropolis connect to him on a higher level than the likes of Superman.

Another thing that puzzles the people of Metropolis is the connection between Lexcorp and Phantom. Whenever Phantom fought, the property damages are never high. But if there are ever any property damages, they are often handled by Lexcorp.

The mystery doesn't last long as one day, Phantom is shot by a green energy beam by a group called Ghost hunter. When the beam hits him, Phantom screams the most gut wrenching scream anyone has ever heard. Phantom then collapses on the floor unconscious. The Ghost hunters just about to capture Phantom when thankfully Superman arrives having heard the scream from the Watchtower.

The Ghost hunters use some unknown device and teleport away before Superman can capture them. Superman turns towards the crowd as he sees them crowding the body of Phantom with some of them taking pictures. Superman freezes as he sees in the place of where Phantom has collapsed, a young very well known boy is in place.

Superman is just about to disperse the crowd when multiple cars and a helicopter flies into close proximity. He ready himself for any battle but all he gets is a glare from a very angry Lex Luthor who is screaming at his subordinates to carry Danny to his hospital as fast as possible.

As much as Superman hates Lex, he can't let personal vendetta get in his way of helping out a kid. Even if the kid is Lex's. Superman offers to fly him there instead since he is faster than even a helicopter and surprisingly, Lex immediately accepts the offers and even gives him a coordinate that he doesn't even know was supposed to be a hospital.

Superman ignores his suspicion and flies as fast as possible towards the area and lo and beholds, a small building is standing there inconspicuously. Just as Superman lands, multiple medical personnel rushes out of the door and one of them takes Danny away from him. Superman is about to follow them in since he can't see inside with the whole building covered in lead until he hears Lex's helicopter flying in. When the helicopter lands, Lex and Superman give each other a nod and Superman flies back up to the Watchtower.

Superman then reports back what happened since he kinda dipped the JL official monthly meeting to see what happened. The other heroes are kinda worried and also a little baffled because on one hand, Phantom's current state is unknown and everyone has met him and likes him one way or another. On the other hand, they just find out that Phantom is Lex's kid and has been running around helping Superman fight crimes and aliens alike.

Although Superman has vouched for Lex (which very concerns other heroes because like, this is Superman, vouching for Lex Luthor) the other heroes still decides that it is better to investigate what happens to Phantom. Especially this Ghost hunter group.

The next 6 months have been rather quiet in Superman's opinion. There is no news about the Ghost hunter (which is insane in Superman's opinion because like this is Batman investigating) and the only news that has been received about Phantom is from the Lexcorp PR group and Cass since she is the only outsider that is allowed to visit Danny.

On another news though, Lex has completely resigned from his CEO position and has been seen since he first entered the hospital that Danny is in. No one knows where, what or how he is doing. Currently the CEO of Lexcorp is his sister and the only news anyone has about him is that he is fine(He knows she is hiding something but it's more of worried lying rather than evil lying).

That is of course until a few days ago when millions of nanobots sprung out of nowhere from all across the planet. The nanobots just fly out into the sky in multiple little patches and just stay unmoved. The next 24 hours has probably been the most stressed any of the JL members has been for the past 6 months. Suddenly, just as if on a timer, all the nanobots move and swarm down towards the ground.

Mass panic happens all around the world except people realize that the nanobots don't do anything to them. They merely pass through them except a few people every once in a while. The JL members rush to stop the nanobots from whatever they are doing but no matter how they try, it is just impossible to find a way to destroy all of them or deactivate them in a short time.

Suddenly multiple screams sounded all around the world. All of them come from people that had the nanobots enter their body. The JL is powerless to stop whatever is happening and can only watch in horror as one by one people fall to the ground screaming in pain. The more proficient JL members check their condition and find out that all these people have one of their back bones broken into complete powder, making them into vegetables.

The 1 hour of horror ended exactly as the remaining nanobots declare loudly in a robotic voice

"GHOST HUNTERS EXTERMINATED"

And then, all of the nanobots just turn to dust like none of them ever existed. A few days later, the Lexcorp PR group came out to announce that Danny has successfully awoken thanks to Lex's dedicated research.

All the JL members have suspicion that Lex is behind the nanobots but they can't find any evidence that he is the one behind them. Later that month, Phantom is seen back in action and people later forget about the incident.

The underworld though never forgets and they all have reached a common consensus. Never pissed off Lex again.

[dahlibae]

COME HOME WITH ME.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary — Wanda brought you home to meet her parents for the first time this Christmas, but for some reason, the woman is unable to keep her hands off you.

warning(s) — christmas drabble: age gap couple, alternative universe, mistletoe kisses, older!wanda, smut(?), nipple sucking, teasing (18+)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The windshield wipers swiped rhythmically against the steady drizzle of snow as Wanda drove down the winding road towards her childhood home. The air inside the car was warm, the scent of fresh pine from a little tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror mixing with the lingering aroma of cinnamon from the hot chocolate you shared at the last rest stop. Wanda sat beside you, her gloved hand that wasn’t focused on driving the vehicle occasionally pointed out landmarks from her past—a diner she swore made the best cherry pie, the park where she and Pietro used to sled down the biggest hill, and the bridge where she'd once dared him to climb to the top… all for him to fall off and break his arm.

Her voice softened when she spoke about her parents. “They’ll love you.” She said, more to herself than to you, but you caught the edge of nervousness in her tone. She hadn’t brought home a partner since Vision – her ex husband – and you were, well, nothing like him. For one, you were a woman and her parents weren’t even aware of their daughter’s sexuality. And two, you were quite younger than her. You reached over, resting a hand on hers. She gave you a quick smile before looking back out the window.

The sky dimmed as she turned onto a long, snow-covered driveway lined with bare trees. At the end of it stood a cozy two-story house, its windows glowing golden against the winter evening. A wreath decorated the front door, and string lights framed the roofline, casting a cheerful, twinkling light over the yard. Wanda inhaled deeply as she parked, then turned to you.“Ready?” She asked, her voice almost teasing. You nodded, though your heart thudded nervously.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The warmth of the house embraced you immediately as you stepped inside, the scent of freshly baked cookies and coffee filling the air. Wanda’s mother - Iryna - greeted you with a hug that was surprisingly strong for her petite frame, her Sokovian accent making her words feel like a soft melody. Her - Olek - father shook your hand firmly, his eyes kind yet probing. He was staggeringly tall, even taller than her twin brother who must’ve been over six foot. It was clear Wanda took after him the most. Pietro wasn’t far behind, slapping you on the back with a grin that matched Wanda’s when she was up to something mischievous. You had met him before. He had came over to Wanda’s house one day, not expecting his sister to have anyone over, but found you… underneath her.

In no time, you were sat on the couch, a little overwhelmed but charmed by Wanda’s mother after she had led you deeper into the living room, already firing off a million questions. Wanda was sitting next to you, her hand occasionally brushing against yours as she joined in on her mother’s conversation with you, before she was whisked away, leaving you defenceless against her mother.

Pietro had been mischievous all evening. Every so often, you’d catch him whispering to Wanda or their dad before smirking in your direction. You figured he was just enjoying teasing his sister about bringing someone home for the holidays, and him being the only person in the room to know prior to Christmas.

You had finally settled in once Wanda had made her way back to your side, when Pietro suddenly appeared, a gleam in his eye. In his hand was a sprig of mistletoe, held high above you both. "Look at this!" He announced, drawing everyone’s attention. "A little holiday magic, right here!"

Your face went warm immediately, and you caught Wanda's eye. She looked equally surprised, her cheeks flushed. Her parents chuckled softly, sharing a knowing glance.

"Pietro.” Wanda warned, her tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

"But, sis, it’s tradition!" He declared, unapologetic, holding the mistletoe steady above the two of you. "You wouldn’t want to break tradition now, would you?"

You glanced at Wanda, unsure of what to do. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade. Then, before you could think too much, she leaned in. Her hands cupped your cheeks, and her lips pressed softly against yours. The kiss was gentle but sure; family friendly and yet still managed to send warmth spreading through you like the glow of the fire.

When she pulled back, her eyes lingered on yours, a mix of shyness and confidence in her expression. Around you, the room erupted in playful cheers, Pietro’s laughter loudest of all.

“Guess you really like tradition, sis. He teased, earning a glare from Wanda that only made him laugh harder.

Her mother chimed in, her voice warm. “It’s good to see you happy, my love.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Wanda voiced before reaching for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she leaned closer, ignoring Pietro’s continued antics. “Sorry about him,” she murmured, her voice just for you, “he lives for chaos.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “I don’t mind.”

She tilted her head, studying you for a moment before breaking into a soft smile. “Good,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, before she placed another quick kiss to your lips.

Afterwards, dinner was a whirlwind of laughter, clinking glasses, and stories that made Wanda groan and bury her face in her hands. You noticed how her family’s teasing only made her more endearing, her cheeks permanently flushed pink with a mix of embarrassment and affection. A reaction you’d rarely see with the older woman. By the time dessert was served, you felt more at ease, the initial nervousness melting away as Wanda reached under the table to squeeze your hand.

Later that night, after the dishes had been cleared and her family had gone to bed, you found yourself in Wanda’s old room. It was smaller than you expected, the walls painted a soft lavender and adorned with faded posters of bands and movies from her teenage years. You wouldn’t admit it to the woman but some of these bands you had no clue of. A small Christmas tree sat in the corner, its ornaments mismatched but charming, clearly a collection built over the years. She sat cross-legged on the bed, watching you with a soft smile as you took in the space. “It’s weird being back here,” she admitted, “so much has changed, but this room... it’s like time stood still.”

You nodded, moving to sit beside her. “It’s nice,” you said honestly. “It feels like you.”

Her smile widened as she leaned against your shoulder. The house was quiet now, save for the faint creaks of the old wood settling, the muffled sound of wind outside and the series coming from her brother’s room. For a moment, you simply sat there, soaking in the stillness, the glow of the little tree casting a soft light across the room. “Thank you for coming,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It means a lot to me.”

You turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Baby, no, stop, we’ll get caught.” You whispered, voice barely audible over the TV show playing in the background. Your hands hovered over her waist, unsure whether to pull her closer or gently push her away. Now, she was straddling your lap, her warm breath fanning against the crook of your neck. Her lips, teasing as usual, trailed wet kisses down to your collarbone, sending shivers coursing through your body. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound, every nerve in your body screaming at you to give in to her touch.

“Wanda.” You pleaded again, though your voice lacked conviction, and your hands had finally settled on her waist, fingertips brushing against the soft material of her open blouse. She chuckled softly, the sound low and sultry, vibrating against your skin.

"What’s the matter, baby?" She murmured, voice dripping with mischief. She nipped at your pulse, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. "Afraid someone will hear?"

You tilted your head back against the headboard, your gaze darting toward the door. It was closed, but the faint sound of her brother’s TV reminded you just how thin the walls were. "We’re in your parents' house.” You hissed, though your grip on her waist tightened as she rolled her hips into yours again.

"And?" She teased, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. Her green ones sparkled with a mix of amusement and desire, a smirk playing on her lips. Her red hair was slightly tousled, and the glow of the fireplace painted her cheeks a soft pink.

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling under her gaze. “And you know I can’t keep quiet.” You pouted, hoping to win some sympathy from her - it usually worked.

“Aw, that’s okay.” She leaned back and you thought you had won, until you noticed her reaching for her remote to turn the volume of her TV up. “I can just help you keep quiet.” She leaned in once again, brushing her nose against yours, her breath warm against your lips. Before you could protest further, her lips claimed yours in a heated kiss - much more intense than the last. Your hands moved of their own accord, sliding up her back and pulling her closer as her hips rocked harder against yours.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Look at me, princess.”

You were laid on your back. Your clothes and bra long forgotten as they were flung from your body and onto the floor next to hers. You felt Wanda shift from beside you, her body no longer pressed against yours, as her hands began to push your legs apart, placing herself between them. It didn’t take long for her fingers to find you, making slow circles against you through your soaked panties. “Is this what you want?” She asked, but you couldn’t respond, too wrapped up in the pleasure of her fingers and the sight of her breasts pooling over her bra.

She took your silence as an answer.

“No? You don’t?” Her fingers slowed, now trailing up and down, just missing your clit.

“No, please!” You cried out, hips bucking into her touch. “I mean, I- please, Wands.”

She shushed you, leaning over to place soft soothing kisses against your lips. “It’s okay, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Need you to touch me.” You replied without a breath, no longer concerned if her family heard you or not. She pressed her lips firmer against yours, tongue softly stroking against yours as she hummed her approval into your mouth.

“Okay, princess. Remember to stay quiet, okay? We don’t want to wake anyone up.” You felt your body clench at her words, as her head ducked, tongue swiping against your nipple, she has sucked between her lips.

“My good girl,” she mumbled, your nipple pulled from between her teeth as she switched to the other. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” You managed to say between whines.

Wanda rewarded you by pulling your panties down, fingers rolling tight circles around your nerves until you came with her name spilling from your lips, and into her curls, as she held you in her arms.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[slamminslamminmcgill]

aaaaaaa i need poly deadclaws smoke session 🥺😵‍💫💖 you and wade being cringy stoners ripping wade's gravity bong together and logan walks in on you sitting in his lap on the couch.

"hey, honey badger, welcome home! aw, poor baby, you look so tired! you wanna hit?"

"the fuck are you two doing?"

“it’s called a gravity bong! a hallmark of stoner engineering! would you like a demonstration?”

"no."

“too bad.” wade puts the lighter in your hands, then squeezes them for encouragement. “show him, babes, just like i taught ya.”

you spark the lighter and carefully angle it into the bowl at the top. once it's lit, you grab the inner bottle and slooowly pull it upwards out of the water. the cloud inside it grows thicker, denser, bigger. it swells with the accompanying sounds of water underneath it. glug. glug. glug.

wade explains the mechanics to logan, “now THAT, boo boo bear, is about 2-liters of toke-a-cola right there. almost as fun as when they had cocaine in the recipe.” wade sneaks his hands under your baggy lounge shirt to pinch and pull your nipples, then gives you an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. he purrs his instructions to you. “chug it, honey-cunt.”

you rip the bowl out of the bottle, the smoke billowing out through the spout, and slurp it up as you sink the bottle down into the water. of course, the torrential cloud you had built was at LEAST 2-player content. you started coughing about a third of the way down, and wade had to take over.

“i got it, i got it!” he proclaimed, valiantly chugging what was left of the cloud. he blew some out and sighed with pleasure. “now… this kind of bong gives you… gives you BIG hits. so you get stupid fast.”

you nod in agreement, a hazy, air-headed smile on your face, “it also feels REALLY good for sex…”

"well, shit, why the hell ain't you lead with that?" logan climbs over the back of the couch and sits down next to you two. "give it here. show me how you work that thing.”

also i just KNOW logan gets giggly when he smokes weed it’s a fact god told me. he’s got cigar lungs so he takes to the gravity bong with surprisingly little coughing, but FUCK it makes him STUPID!!!! he gets super touchy feely too and he’ll prolly crawl on top of both of you.

“nngh, c’mon, lemme…” he grumbles, pawing for the bong that wade holds out of reach, “lemme hit it again…”

“i think the fuck not, babe! you will wait your turn in the rotation just like everyone else, young man!”

logan blows a raspberry at him and flops over to wade’s side. “pfft… bitch…”

“yes, sir, and that’s why you love me.”

he watches longingly as wade takes his rip, until his focus shifts to your shorts riding up on your thighs.

“hey. c’mere, boy.”

he tugs you into his lap and starts making out with you, stripping you from your comfy clothes, grinding his bulge up into your folds. you whimper, under your breath, and logan smirks, teasing you in hushed tones.

“ ‘s good, right?”

“mhm…”

“you gettin’ wet now?”

“mhm!”

once wade blows his smoke out, he notices what’s going on and gasps in mock offense.

“are you two seriously excluding me right now? what am i, ugly, or somethi—? wait, don’t answer that, i—“

“yes.”

“yep. knew that was coming. can’t even blame ya. i set you up for that one. anyway!”

wade pulls you to him by your hair and smooches your cheek affectionately before putting the lighter in your hands again.

“your turn, sweetie pie!”

and by the end of that rotation everyone’s clothes are off and you’re all touching each other’s junk 😌

[affableramen]

Big spoon | Small spoon | Genshin Impact men | Wriothesley | Capitano | Neuvillette | Alhaitham | Dottore | Pantalone

Big spoon: Wriothesley, Capitano, Dottore

Little spoon: Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Pantalone

Wriothesley, Dottore and Capitano contain spicy parts.

Wriothesley

Big spoon. This man is anything but submissive. He is the one to start touching you at the intimate moment.

Wriothesley loves a good amount of physical touch. Be it a cold autumn evening or snowy winter night he’d very much like to have you pressed close. His muscular chest is so hot, it almost burns your skin, and you find yourself craving still more of his warmth.

You like the smell of bitter coffee mixed with leather coming from him. The rough, but passionate touches of his calloused from the fights hands.

Wriothesley has a habit of sleeping naked, and every inch of his hot burning skin is felt by you.

“Come here”, the duke doesn’t ask, he orders. You climb into the sheet and pull the blanket while staring at him expectantly. “Turn around.” When exposing your back to him, you feel hot breath blow against your hair. “You smell delicious.” He is not a beast, he doesn’t want you scared, so Wriothesley gently, gingerly snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest.

“You like that?”

“You certainly are very warm, my duke”, you respond playfully.

“Then we should cuddle more often.”

Capitano

Capitano is a big (in all ways) man, with big hands that are surprisingly very gentle to the touch. It is his bed routine to climb into the sheets and hold you close until the both of you drift away to sleep. His long obsidian hair tickles the sensitive skin of your back.

If Pantalone is a tsundere, trust me this man is even more tsundere. Cap is strict, reserved and collected, and it is usually an accident, a word slipped from his mouth that you hear a compliment. He is more a man of action. You know that he needs you because of his body language. He is very perceptive, he is wary of the world around him, and he is very good at physical touch. And that being said, the cuddles Capitano gives you are just perfect. They are full of heat, passion and affection, of course.

He has a habit of sleeping naked, so you are aware of every part of his body touching you even if this was not his intention in the slightest.

“Hmph…” he grunts. “Don’t move too much.”

You giggle to yourself, knowing damn well that he is already flustered. And you are flustered too.

Neuvillette

Monsieur Neuvillette is a solitary and private person. It’s rare that he gives out affection. But with you, he is ready to put some efforts into a sustainable relationship. However he is a small spoon. He is too shy, too reserved and too introverted to hug you first. And let’s be honest - he is quite used to you being the one who initiates activities.

The morning and night cuddles are very important for monsieur Neuvillette. He might even think that something is wrong between you if you do not snake your arms around him in the bed. He is very aware of your moods and reaction, and he memorises things about you quite often.

Being a little spoon Neuvillette likes the feeling of your proximity. The hands that wrap around his waist, given the height difference between you. He likes sensing your breath on him through the fabric of nightwear. You touch him incredibly gently and he responds with equal gingerly stroke over your fingers.

“It feels nice”, he says quietly, embarrassed admitting. “Would you have objections to falling asleep like this every night?”

He is very soft.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is a small spoon. But not because of submissiveness, rather of his cold, detached nature. He was grown by his grandmother and grew up surrounded by books. He knows nothing of good doze of affection. And you were the one who taught him that.

Alhaitham is not touchy-feely, he prefers his inner world and intuition above everything else. That being said, he will pull you into deep physiological conversations quite often. But you are the one who makes him grounded. You bring him back into the reality with your soft hands.

As the two of you lie in bed before sleep, you spot him reading his book as usual. You gently remove the book from his fingers, getting a surprising reaction on his face.

“Oh?”

“Let’s cuddle”, you do not let him finish the sentence. “I’m feeling lonely tonight, while you are one muscular man in my bed.”

“Don’t beat around the bush. What do you want?” He asks, his tone not rough, but irritated.

You slowly snake your arms around him, and Alhaitham lets a quiet huff of satisfaction.

“Don’t need to be so gentle, I’m not a porcelain doll. Hug me tighter.” Unlike his usual attitude, he asks you.

You do just as he says, your chest flush to his back as you wrap your hands around his chest, and your legs around his hips.

“This is not better than the book I rejected, but pleasant still.”

You playfully push him.

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Fine, fine. Just tonight, I’ll be yours.”

Dottore

Big spoon. When is in love, he is a yandere. He will pull you to his chest as tight as possible and will not let you go. He will make sure you are his. Dottore will bite your ear, sucking the wounded area gently as his hands roam over your shoulders, stomach and hips. This man is entirely touch-starved and with you he wants to compensate the pleasures he denied himself in due to his tough scholar responsibilities.

The faint scent of mint is coming from him. You love it when he is close. He always smells refreshing. Though Dottore is not one to be soft with words, and his declarations of love are often blunt, the softness in his night touch when the both of you prepare to sleep, tells a different story. You love the subtly feeling of him being vulnerable when you’re in private.

“What, are you cold?” Dottore asks half-mockingly, noticing your goosebumps.

“It’s getting freezing in the evening.”

“Is this body alone not enough to heat you?” He whispers into your ear and then, what seems to be gently, takes your hand in his.

“My, you are freezing indeed. My apologies.”

Dottore grabs the edge of the duvet and pulls it up, the biggest part of it on your body.

It’s incredibly difficult for him to conduct his emotions properly, and you understand it perfectly. You do not ask for more. He genuinely wants you in comfort, otherwise his indifferent nature wouldn’t even bother.

Pantalone

This old man is a little spoon. You should never expect open attraction from him, especially the physical touch. He won’t reach out to press you close to his chest. No, no, no… He is both lazy and cold for it. A banker that is nearing menopause is expected to be nothing but an incredibly aloof and grumpy bastard. Even to his lover, his heart will melt only after considerable amount of time, that is if you’re lucky enough.

However, when he finally gives in, pushes away all his righteousness and indifference, he becomes a very soft old man. As the two of you lie in the bed prepared for sleep, he suddenly breaks the tranquil silence with his velvety, sultry voice.

“Hug me.” You find yourself dumbfounded. “I said, hug me”, Pantalone repeats. “Please”, he says quieter. You wrap your hands around his waist gently, listening to his calm, gentle breath. Judging by the movement of his body and a pleased sigh coming from his lips, he enjoys such intimate proximity with you immensely. He pulls the fuzzy blanket over the both of you, so afraid that his cold fingers might disturb you.

“Didn’t know you were the little spoon”, you say, happy with how things are. Pantalone responds with a grunt, obviously irritated or, perhaps embarrassed?

“No… Just sleep already.”

This is such a tsundere thing of him to say.

Yes, Pantalone’s definitely a small spoon.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation

Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!

“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room. 

Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”

“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”  

“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”

“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him. 

“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team. 

“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–” 

“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.” 

“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”

“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”

Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend. 

“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day. 

“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could. 

“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”

“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”

“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”

“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”

“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”

Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced. 

“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck. 

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off. 

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that. 

The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night. 

“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”

He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail. 

Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter. 

“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.” 

Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him. 

“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down. 

His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.” 

“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said. 

You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”

“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”

Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”

“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly. 

Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”

“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you. 

“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend. 

“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation. 

Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play. 

To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck. 

He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead. 

Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his.  He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out. 

“Hi baby, there you are!”  

Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised. 

Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him. 

In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”

Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you. 

Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side. 

You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied.  He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along. 

Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.  

“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly. 

“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.  

Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over.  Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding. 

The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.  

You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there. 

You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.  

“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look. 

You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached. 

“Shit– yes.”

“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot. 

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together. 

“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening. 

“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist. 

“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.” 

“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes. 

“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.  

“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating. 

But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”

“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger. 

There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off. 

“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off. 

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.  

That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily. 

“What a creep,” one of them said. 

“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon. 

“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.” 

The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well. 

“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod. 

“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”

You shivered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.  

“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances.  You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”  

Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.  

“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them. 

“She was into you, Tyler.”

He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing. 

Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.” 

Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled. 

“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said. 

“And do what?” Tyler asked. 

Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”

Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.  

Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.  

He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.  

“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.  

“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was. 

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…” 

Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger. 

But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”

Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out. 

Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”

Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”

With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand. 

“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly. 

[sushiyuzu]

personal transport

warning: fluff + pet name — grumpy!sylus giving you a piggyback ride while you braid his hair.

dragon's heart (sylus fanfic book)

- backup acc: @blushpawss

after a long day of walking around, your feet are absolutely killing you. you try to keep up with sylus, but every step feels like you’re walking on nails. finally, you can’t take it anymore, and you let out a loud, dramatic sigh, catching his attention.

“my feet are killing me,” you groan, rubbing your legs for emphasis. “i don’t think i can walk any further.”

sylus turns his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “you should have worn better shoes,” he says, always so practical. but there’s a teasing tone in his voice, like he’s already predicting what you’re about to ask.

“well, i didn’t know we were going on an all-day trek!” you huff. “and you, with your stupid long legs, making it worse.”

he smirks but doesn’t say anything. instead, he stops walking and crouches down in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “get on.”

you blink at him, surprised. “what?”

“get on,” he repeats, still crouched. “unless you want to keep limping behind me.”

“oh my god, sylus,” you giggle, feeling both embarrassed and flustered. “you’re not serious.”

“completely serious,” he replies, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. “if you’re too stubborn to admit you can’t keep up, i’ll carry you. hop on, kitten.”

the nickname catches you off guard, and you can’t help but laugh. “kitten? really?”

“do you want the ride or not?” he asks, his voice deadpan, though the slight quirk of his lips betrays his humor.

rolling your eyes, but secretly a little excited, you step closer and carefully climb onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. he easily lifts you as if you weigh nothing, his strong hands gripping your legs to keep you steady.

“you’re ridiculously strong,” you mumble, resting your chin on his shoulder. “i could get used to this.”

“don’t,” he says, though there’s a trace of warmth in his tone. “you’ll start expecting it every time.”

“maybe i will,” you tease, pressing your cheek against his cool silver hair. “you’d never say no to me.”

he lets out a small chuckle—so quiet you almost miss it—but you can feel the vibration of it under your hands. “don’t get cocky, kitten.”

the walk continues, much easier now that you’re off your feet. you find yourself enjoying the feeling of being close to him, his steady footsteps making you feel secure. you bury your face in his hair, taking in the scent of him, a mix of something clean and woodsy.

“comfy?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

“very,” you reply, settling in against him. after a moment of silence, you get a mischievous idea. “hey, sy…”

“hmm?”

“can i braid your hair while you walk?”

sylus tilts his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder. “braid my hair? while i’m carrying you?”

you nod enthusiastically, fingers already reaching for the soft strands of his silver hair. “yeah! it’ll look good, i promise.”

he lets out a long sigh but doesn’t object. “fine. but if it looks terrible, i’m shaving it off.”

you laugh softly at his empty threat, already parting his hair into sections. “don’t worry, i’m a pro.”

as you work, you can feel sylus’s steady pace beneath you, his strong back supporting you with ease. you’re surprisingly comfortable, resting your chin lightly on his shoulder as your fingers skillfully braid his hair. it’s soft and cool between your fingers, and you can’t help but enjoy the closeness of the moment, even if he’s pretending not to care.

“you know,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence, “you make a pretty good pack mule.”

sylus huffs out a quiet laugh. “you’re lucky i’m letting you get away with that.”

“aww, come on, sy. you love carrying me.”

“yeah, sure,” he replies dryly. “it’s the highlight of my day.”

you giggle as you finish the braid, tying it off at the end. “there, all done. you look amazing.”

he doesn’t say anything at first, but you notice his shoulders relax a little under your hands. “do i?”

“yup,” you say, admiring your handiwork. “stylish and practical.”

“if you say so,” sylus mutters, though there’s no missing the slight warmth in his voice. he continues walking, the cool evening air brushing past both of you. you rest your cheek against his back, enjoying the comfortable silence that settles between you. despite his gruff attitude, you can tell he doesn’t mind the braid as much as he pretends to.

“you know, i could really get used to this,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you relax against him. “being carried around, braiding your hair… it’s nice.”

“don’t get too comfortable,” he warns, though there’s no real edge to his tone. “you’re walking on your own tomorrow.”

“we’ll see about that,” you tease, tightening your hold around his neck just a little. “i think you like being my personal transport.”

“keep talking, and i might drop you,” he replies, but his hands grip your legs a little tighter, making sure you’re secure.

you laugh softly, feeling the steady rhythm of his footsteps beneath you. and despite the teasing, despite his usual grumpiness, there’s a warmth in the way he carries you, a silent comfort that only sylus could offer.

as the sun sets in the distance, casting a warm glow over the quiet streets, you smile to yourself, knowing that, no matter how much he complains, sylus wouldn’t let you down—literally or figuratively.

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Restlessness

Summary:

She usually only lets Astarion feed on her while she is asleep. Not that she has any problem with Astarion, the case just is that him feeding from her while she is still conscious is profoundly intimate and she can’t really be sure if Astarion has noticed or even if he particularly cares, about how quickly her heart races when he does it. So while she is asleep is better, it's much better. But she can't get to sleep tonight, so she is just going to have to make do.

Contains: Fem Unnamed Tav, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood stuff (comes with the territory) Word Count: 5,143 Read on AO3

Astarion has been feeding on her almost every night for the past month now. Most nights while she is still asleep, though he is always surprisingly insistent about obtaining direct consent before she moves to her tent for the evening, by this point she has just assumed that the agreement is mutual and that there is little need for him to keep asking. Though she doesn't have it in her to be upset about the courtesy. 

She generally prefers that he drinks while she is sleeping, only knowing that it happened when she wakes up the next morning with a dull throb in her neck and Astarion giving her a knowing smirk from across the camp. 

Not that she has any problem with Astarion, the case just is that him feeding from her while she is still conscious is profoundly intimate and she can’t really be sure if Astarion has noticed or even if he particularly cares, about how quickly her heart races when he does it. So while she is asleep is better, it's much better. 

Being the vampire’s resident midnight snack does occasionally earn her some uncomfortable looks from other members of their little group. Especially after one of the few nights she had been awake for the ordeal and the feeling of his hand moving to her hip caused her body to jolt so intensely that Astarion accidentally tore her throat up with his fangs. Shadowheart dutifully healed it, but gave her a stare so oppressive that even a slight uptick of the half-elf’s judgemental eyebrow would surely have killed her on the spot. 

Astarion did apologize, but then quickly switched to insisting that she needed to let him know next time she decided to experiment with interpretive dance while he was firmly latched to her throat. 

That was the night they both agreed, it might be better if he only feeds while she is out cold. 

This night, however. Sleep will not come. She knows that it has been nearly a day and a half since Astarion has last eaten, any and all the fighting that took place today in the dark remains of Shar’s gauntlet were against foes severely lacking in the blood department, and tomorrow will likely be the same. To be honest, they were lucky at all, to find somewhere safe and quiet enough to camp in this miserable place. 

She rubs her eyes, still sitting upright in her tent despite all efforts to lull herself to sleep. She sighs heavily, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, usually a long day like this tires her out completely, and she is a very heavy sleeper, but today’s journey has left her so exhausted that even sleep evades her. 

The rustling of her tent flap nearly has her topping over with shock, hardly expecting any visitors after the terrible day they had all endured. The realization hits her when Astarion climbs in.

“Oh.” He says, freezing halfway into the tent, “Apologies, you are not usually so…well, conscious, at this time of night.” She had agreed to him feeding on her again this evening, assuming that she would be well asleep by now like usual. She sighs and gives him a wan smile, “Sorry, I can’t sleep.” “I suppose dinner is off the table then, isn't it?” He replies, wearing a smile that seems far tighter than his usual lazy smirk. 

“No!” She says quickly, “Gods no, there’s nothing else for you to eat down here and it’s been almost two days.” Astarion frowns, suddenly becoming very interested in his fingernails, “I can always go back to eating rats if I must, there is certainly no lack of them in this miserable place.” He tries to maintain a casual air, but there is venom behind those words. His voice does return to being playful when he says, “Or, should the situation become incredibly dire, I’m sure that our resident hero would let me have a bite if I asked very nicely.” For some reason, the thought of Astarion feeding on Wyll instead of her causes a thick cloud of jealousy to build behind her ribs. She ignores it, “Just come inside, we’ll figure something out.” she says, shuffling backward a little to give him more room, “And close the front of the tent, please.” 

When he turns back to her and takes a seat on the hard ground, she can’t help but notice just how etherial he looks in the soft orange glow of her lantern. Even on the nights when she does sleep, she prefers to keep the lantern on, both because the darkness makes her uneasy, and because (even though she knows he can see in the dark) it feels like common courtesy to leave a light on for Astarion. 

“So.” He says

“So…” she replies

Astarion sighs, “Look, darling. If you are simply too delicate for me to have my meal while you are awake, I’m sure that I can find a way to occupy myself for now.” He levels his gaze with her, “Something more entertaining than just staring at each other.”

She bristles, “I’m not delicate, I’m just-” she can’t finish the sentence. She’s just what? Too shy, embarrassed maybe, certainly nervous, “I’m fidgety.” she lies, “and I don’t want to cause another…incident.” He laughs, “Oh yes, not willing to suffer another of Shadowheart’s glares, are you?” “No.” She begins, averting her eyes as she feels her cheeks burning, “Not at present.”

“Then what do you suggest? Since you don’t seem to be planning on getting your beauty sleep anytime soon.” She chews on a knuckle, mulling it over. There’s no way she could handle him leaning over her like that again, his scent surrounding her, one of his hands cradling the back of her head as he finally sinks his teeth into the side of her- 

“It might be better, if i’m sitting upright.” She offers. Astarion blinks, “Upright?” “Maybe. I think.” 

It would at the very least, be far less intimate, more clinical. Astarion hums to himself, “As you know, i don’t have all that much experience in the matter, but i can hardly see how you would expect to stay upright and the last thing we need is you cracking your skull open on the ground.”

“Then I would just need something to lean against.” She says quickly, “I just think I would be far better at sitting still this way, that's all.”

“Well, I’m right here, darling.” He says, almost dismissively, upset that she wouldn’t consider it herself, “You could always lean against me.” 

Her eyes widen. That would defeat the purpose of this whole exercise, but she can’t very well tell him that. 

“As long as it wouldn’t make things more difficult for you.” She begins, choosing her words slowly and carefully, “I would at least be happy to try.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He says, leaning backward a little and letting his thighs fall open, “The last thing this could possibly be for me is difficult.” She stares down at him, eyes wide as she realizes that she has only managed to make this situation worse. 

“Oh….kay” She says, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. In the end she opts to face away from him, sitting cross legged between his legs and shimmying backward until she feels his chest pressed up against her back. She sucks a difficult breath in through her teeth and though he isn’t warm, he might as well be, the way she immediately breaks out in a nervous sweat. 

“Come come, my dear.” He says, his tone hushed as he carefully draws her hair away from her throat, “I’ve had plenty of time to practice being gentle all those nights you were asleep, no need to be so nervous.” She’s more than a little embarrassed at how instinctively she tilts her head to the side for him, almost beckoning him to bite down. It’s not that part that makes her nervous, not at all. It’s that she recalls a conversation, brief and quickly dismissed, that the two had by a campfire many nights ago. A mention of disgust, words spat like bile about the man who forced him to use himself night after night. A disgust of her own, when she remembered how many days she’d spend staring at him, nights under his body as he fed, wishing and wanting for him to touch her. 

She had been far too forward that night, prodding where she shouldn't. Astarion had just laughed, dismissed her concern and refused to elaborate. 

“I trust you.” She whispers when she feels the ghost of his breath on her neck.

Astarion tenses behind her, and she closes her eyes as he descends, waiting for the bite that never comes. His lips press against the side of her throat, softly, lightly, the way a lover might kiss. She gasps aloud, and quickly covers her mouth with a hand, trying to hide the sound. 

One of his hands wraps around hers, gently removing it from her mouth, “No.” he says, pressing another kiss to the cut of her jaw, “Let me hear you.” 

A whimper climbs its way up her throat when he wraps a possessive arm around her, his thumb gently brushing across the lower swell of her breast. She feels his teeth against her neck, not biting, gentle and tantalizing. 

This is what she had been afraid of, that she would encourage something like this and then lack the restraint to tell him no. Her head inclines backwards, resting on his shoulder and releasing a keening moan when he sucks on her pulsepoint. 

“Astarion-” she tries, breaking off into a moan when he slides his hand up and squeezes her breast in his palm. 

He chuckles against her throat, “I do so love hearing you say my name like that.” he croons into her ear, his hand sliding down the collar of her loose linen shirt to cup her breast directly, “Say it again for me, would you?”

“W-Wait, please” She forces out, trying to ignore the growing warmth between her thighs, and the cool press of his palm against her breast. 

At her words, Astarion freezes completely. She can barely even feel him breathing anymore. 

“Yes, of course.” He says quickly, too quickly, there’s something that sounds like panic in his voice, “I- well, I hope i didn’t misread the situation.” “No! That’s- that’s not what I meant, it’s just-” She reaches her hand up backwards until she finds his face, cupping his cheek in her palm, “Astarion…you don’t have to if-“ if you don’t want to, if it doesn’t mean anything, if it hurts too much, or Gods forbid if you think you owe me something. 

He stays still for long enough that she begins to worry she said something wrong, that she overstepped a boundary and he was just going to laugh dismissively again. Instead, he turns his head so he can lightly kiss the palm of her hand. 

“I know.” He breathes, and it somehow soothes all her worries at once, “I know I don’t have to, but I do want to.” She can almost hear his smile when he says, “That is, of course, provided that you don’t want me to stop.”

“Gods no…” she exhales, leaning back against him, “That’s the last thing I want.”

“Good.” He nearly moans, his hand jumping to the laces at the front of her shirt and quickly undoing them until it hangs wide open all the way down to her sternum. It surprises her a moment, how familiar he seems with undoing her clothes, but then she remembers each morning, waking up with a bite at the join between her shoulder and neck. A courtesy, so none of the others would see it, but he would only be able to reach that low by loosening her shirt. 

She feels herself growing warm at the thought, smirking when she asks, “You’ve undressed me before, have you?”

Astarion huffs, licking a stripe up the side of her neck, “Nothing more than was necessary to get at your shoulder, darling.” his cold hands grab both her breasts at once, and he groans, “I was trying to save you from any judgemental stares.” 

Her head lolls backward and she moves her hand to his hair, tangling her fingers in tight. His hands are cold against her bare skin, but she is already so warm all over that any reprieve from the heat is a welcome one. 

“Is this why you could never sit still while I was feeding on you?” Astarion breathes, one of his hands sliding down the front of her torso to rub over the front of her woolen breeches, “Because you couldn’t stop imaging this?” his hand slips beneath her breeches and into her smalls, “Gods…” he hisses through his teeth, “You’re so wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” 

“Don’t act so coy.” She replies, gasping aloud when his talented fingers dip inside her just enough that she is quivering in anticipation for more, and when his thumb reaches up to circle her clit, she whimpers desperately, “You have all the clarification you need right here.”

“Do I?” He asks slowly, fully removing his fingers from her cunt and resting his hand on her hip, “What if I want to hear you admit it?”

She whines, missing his touch already, “Please…” “No no no, you know what you have to do.” He murmurs, breath ghosting across her neck as he presses another kiss to her skin, “You did lie to me about it earlier, don’t I deserve to hear the truth from your delectable lips?” “F-Fine.” She mutters, shame dissolving into something far more sinful as she finally confesses what she is certain he already knew, “The real reason I asked you to only feed while I was asleep, was because I-” his free hand joins the other on her hips, slowly edging her breeches and smalls down over her thighs, “Because I didn’t think I could control myself.”

He laughs warmly against her skin, fingers just barely skirting around the thatch of hair at the apex of her thighs, “My my, with talk like that, you’d think that it is I who should be afraid of you.”

“Maybe you should.” She says, trying and failing to maintain a casual air even as his fingers slowly descend, “After all, who knows that I might- nhg!” “Hm? Sorry, what was that?” Astarion asks, two of his fingers now knuckle deep inside of her. 

“I’m h-hardly in a state to offer much witty banter, Astarion.” She stammers, barely even able to speak as his fingers start moving, slow and precise, like he is savoring it. 

“But I do so love when you try.” He smiles against her neck, a third finger easily wriggling in alongside the other two. She goes practically boneless against him, unable to keep her hips still as he curls his fingers upward just right and when his thumb teases another utterly devious circle around her clit she feels herself tightening around his fingers. Astarion groans, hiding his face in her shoulder and grinding himself against her lower back, “Hells, darling, you are perfect.”

One of her hands moves to his thigh, struggling to find purchase as she completely loses herself to the pleasure. If the full weight of her body essentially collapsed against him gives Astarion pause, he doesn’t show it, his fingers never falter. The pace he maintains is utterly languid, slow and warm and wet, fast enough that she wouldn’t call it teasing but like he wants to work for it, to enjoy the luxury of taking his time with her. 

She moans when his other hand returns to her breast, rubbing addictive circles around her nipple with his thumb. Everything starts to turn hazy at the edges, her body is twitching and desperate. 

“Gods…” She hisses through her teeth. Astarion chuckles against her throat, “Come now, darling. There’s only one god here.” she feels the light graze of his sharp teeth, “and he’d much prefer you call him by his name.” “Astarion…” she tries, “Please.” He exhales a shaky breath, but otherwise maintains his composure, “Please what, my sweet?”

She’s on the exhilarating precipice of her climax, barely even able to speak, her body feels so hot that Astarion’s hands nearly burn in their coolness and she can scarcely imagine a world where she doesnt have them pressed against her. Whimpering and mewling under his touch and so unsure of what it is she even wants until: “Bite me!” comes bursting out from her mouth.

Astarion chokes on a breath, and she feels the soft lick of her tongue over his pulsepoint, “Are you sure?” “Yes!” She hisses, practicaly fucking herself on his fingers now, “Gods yes.” She feels more than hears the rumble of his moan, “Do try to stay still.” he purrs, and then sinks his fangs into her throat. The immediate pain feels almost electric jumping from her throat, to her fingertips, to her toes, a quick sharp jolt that is near instantly replaced with a nauseating bliss. 

Her head lolls to the side, relishing in the feeling as he begins devouring her. The beat of her heart is loud in her ears, and the pump of his fingers is no longer so tender, with each movement his thumb brushes firmly against her clit and her whole body tenses. He curls his fingers upward, and her hips cant forward violently. 

Unlike last time, Astarion is quick to pull his fangs from her throat, before any real damage can occur, “You really can’t sit still, can you?” He groans in her ear, his voice void of any of its usual musicality as he grinds himself up against her in time with his fingers. A bubbling laugh escapes her mouth as she revels in the feeling of his length pressed firmly against her lower back, at the way his own hips don’t seem to want to stop moving, “N-Neither can you.” she says through her moans. “What can I say?” He murmurs, mouth slowly returning to the open wound on her neck, “You are positively delicious.” He does not bite again, instead lapping and sucking at the blood as it flows freely out of her. She can barely breathe, lost in utter exhilaration as the lightheadedness takes hold, his fingers curl and thrust inside of her, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she finds herself completely unable to hold back her whimpers and moans. 

Astarion completely covers the bite mark with his mouth, sucking with true fervor now as she teeters closer and closer to her climax. Her eyes squeeze shut, and she frantically grinds herself against his awaiting fingers, the warmth builds and builds in her belly until she feels like she is about to turn to lightning in his arms. 

“A-Astarion, I-” Her words collapse into a desperate, aching moan as she tumbles over the edge, the world turning white behind her eyes and the heat rushing out from her core all the way to her fingertips. The euphoria is so encompassing that she nearly sobs as his fingers begin to slow their movements within her. 

He has the sense not to say anything, at least for a moment, and she can scarcely imagine how she looks right now. Her hair clings to her forehead with sweat, tears are beading in her eyes and- oh gods had she been drooling? She quickly raises a hand to wipe her mouth, and as she is doing so, she turns her head to look at him and oh.

Astarion blinks down at her, and the look in his eyes is heady and lust drunk, but there is something else to it as well, bordering on reverence. His cheeks are flushed, and she knows that can only happen when he has just fed. She swallows thickly at the red colouring of his lips, where her own blood is currently spread. Curiosity does something sinister to her, and she wants to taste it herself. 

His eyes go wide when she kisses him, and wider again when she darts out her tongue lick over his teeth. Astarion’s chest is heaving when she pulls back, his red eyes watching cautiously, as though unsure of her next move. She reaches out and takes his cheek in her palm, his skin is warmer than it was before.

“Your turn.” She whispers, trailing her hand from his cheek, down his sternum to the waistband of his breeches. She looks up at him quickly and is emboldened by the desire she still sees in his eyes, untucking his shirt and pulling it up over his head. He’s all perfect, smooth, porcelain skin, but her eyes can’t help being drawn to the way her rough undressing has left his hair disheveled. She tangles her fingers in it, smiling at how boyishly handsome he looks with his hair in disarray. 

“If it’s all the same to you, my dear.” He breathes, beginning to sound impatient, “I’ve waited for you long enough.” She laughs, edging his breeches and undergarments down over his hips, “So impatient for someone with your lifespan.”

He frowns at her, but she is surprised to find how easily she can tell he doesn’t mean it, “If anything, that should speak to just how much I crave you.” He croons as she swings one leg over his hips, hoving just over his lap, “You should be flattered.” “I am.” She replies with not a hint of irony, “I consider myself incredibly lucky.” Astarion reaches up to her face and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “As do I.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders to steady herself as she slowly lowers herself down, stutting a gasp when the head of his cock meets her entrance. It’s as cold as the rest of him, and she has to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out when she takes in the first inch. She’s still incredibly sensitive from her first climax, and the coolness of him feels so alien and utterly addictive that she is already panting and whimpering by the time he bottoms out inside of her. 

Astarion lets out a shaky moan when she finally sits down fully, his hands jumping to her waist and his head falling to rest on her shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, just clinging to each other, no sounds but their breathing and the rapid tattoo of her heart. 

When he looks up at her again, Astarion’s smile is utterly salacious, “You have me now, darling.” he whispers, pressing a cool kiss to her shoulder, “Perhaps it would the perfect moment for you to show me some of those, things you have been thinking about doing to me all this time.” 

Astarion isn’t usually that much taller than her, but even still, there is something addictive about their current positioning and the way he has to peer up at her. She tilts her head to the side, taking in the sight of him, his blood flushed cheeks and the glint of his teeth behind his wide smile. 

“Would it be…strange-” she begins, tangling one of her hands in the back of his hair, “-If said that i had often imagined biting you.” “Hah!” Astarion exclaims, grinning broadly, “Well, it would be hardly fair for me to ask you to keep your teeth to yourself, wouldn’t it?” Her brows pull together, “You can say no, Astarion.” His eyes go wide for a moment, and his face is awash with a sudden vulnerability, “I- Yes, I know that I can.” His smile returns, but now the look in his eyes is warmer, softer, “But I don’t want to.” He inclines his head to the side, exposing the length of his throat, “Go on, darling. Let me know how I taste, would you?”

She leans into his neck, breathing in his scent as she presses a soft kiss to his skin. He makes a noise, a startled intake of breath, his hands on her waist gripping tighter and she opens her mouth and bites. Astarion cries out, and his hips stutter his cock deeper inside of her. She moans against his skin, grinding her hips down to meet his and languishing in the feeling of just how well he fills her. 

Her teeth are far blunter than his, and actually drawing any blood would take a considerable amount of force and cause a considerable amount of pain, but even without the taste of blood in her mouth there is still something so delectably perverse about biting down on him, about burying her face in his throat. She moans, kissing from the base of his neck and up to the curve of his jaw, sucking gently on the skin there and smiling when she pulls away to see purple marks blooming on his pale skin. 

Astarion’s breath is heavy when he looks at her, but his eyes are soft and relaxed, “Admiring your handiwork, are you?” He laughs a little, peering up at her coquettishly, “Does it suit me?” She traces a finger over the crescent shaped bruises left by her teeth, smiling at him as she whispers, “Very much so, and now I believe we are even.” “Are we now?” Astarion replies, a mischievous look crossing his face as his hands move down to her hips, “Because as far as I can recall, only one of us has seen stars this evening.” 

“We’ll need to rectify this situation then, won’t we?” She says, her breath quickening as she grinds down on him. 

Astarion’s grip on her hips grows tighter and he chokes on a groan, “You look beautiful up there, my dear.” he thrusts up into her, slowly and deeply, “Sitting pretty on my lap, just for me.”

Her head lolls forward, whining as his cock brushes against that perfect spot inside of her. 

“Look at me.” Astarion whispers, and she tilts her head up to meet his eyes. His breath stutters when he sees her expression, desperate and adoring, “I want to see your face as I’m fucking you, darling.” She giggles shyly, resisting the urge to hide her face in her hands and Astarion smiles, “Good girl.” 

He uses the grip on her hips to lift her up and she whimpers as his cock leaves her, only to cry out when he drops her back down. Shifting her weight to her knees, she follows his lead bouncing on his cock to meet him on the upstroke. He never breaks eye contact, staring as her breath leaves her, watching reverently as she pants and moans with each of his movements. 

“A-Astarion…” She moans, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his, “You’re so good, you feel so good.”

He laughs breathlessly, “Would you believe that you feel even better?”

One of his hands moves from her hip around to her front, his talented fingers rubbing encouraging circles on her clit. She keens loudly, digging her nails into his shoulders, “Didn’t I say it was your turn.” She forces out, “You really don’t have-” “You greatly underestimate just how much making you climax arouses me, my sweet.” He groans when he rubs her a little faster, feeling her walls clench around him in response, “I have been thinking about it, constantly.” 

She can feel her orgasm building again, the combination of his fingers and his cock driving her absolutely wild. He’s so warm now, her own growing heat slowly warming his cold skin over time, she wants to grab onto him and never let go. His hips are losing rhythm beneath her, driving his cock up into her with short, stuttered thrusts.  Gods she can feel him throbbing. 

“I’m-I’m close again.” She breathes. 

He groans at even the thought of it, “Good. So am I.”

“Fill me, Gods, Astarion- please” She moans, tightening her arms around his shoulders, pressing him flush against her. 

His own arms wrap tightly around her waist as he fucks up into her at an utterly desperate speed. His breath coming quick and fast, he buries his face in her shoulder, mouthing at the side of her neck, waiting as always, for her permission. 

“Fuck! Yes, Please, bite me!” She cries out, feeling the warmth of her oncoming climax already blooming in her belly, “Gods, Astarion, I am all yours.” His breath hitches at that, the frantic movement of his hips stopping for only a moment, “Mine…” he breathes, and then sinks his fangs into the side of her throat. She can barely comprehend what she is feeling, him all around her, inside her in more ways than one. She’s open, vulnerable, yearning and Astarion is all she ever wanted. 

Her second climax of the night is louder, twitchier, her whole body quivers as it feels like she is shoved over the precipice, her insides clenching desperately around him and her hands digging into his hair as she howls into the open air. 

“H-Hells!” He stammers at the feeling of her coming undone around him, clutching to her as tightly as he can before emptying inside of her. 

There’s warmth, for some time, as the two of them return from the white hot afterglow. She gently runs her fingers through his hair, and Astarion softly laps at any of the mess left on the side of her neck before kissing tenderly over the bite mark left behind. 

“Would you stay?” She whispers, hiding her face in his shoulder, nervous for his answer. 

Astarion chuckles, “Are you that insatiable, my dear? Can’t get enough?” She shakes her head, “No, I mean it. Stay with me until morning, we can talk, or sleep, I don't mind.” His breath is shaky now, and one of her hands comes up to rest on the back of her head, “I don’t really know what we are doing.” he breathes, “But I’d like to try, with you.” She sits up a little, meeting his eyes. There is apprehension there, yes, but more than that there is something warm and real. She smiles, “I guess we’ll have to figure it out together.”

His smile is lopsided and effortless, “Though I’m sure Shadowheart will have something entertaining to say, come morning.”

She laughs, “I’ll have to get used to withstanding her glare, I think, as I plan to make, well, whatever this is, a regular occurrence.” 

Neither of them feels a need to define what they are feeling, or even what comes next. But she smiles when Astarion presses a kiss to her temple, and decides that for now, it hardly matters. They’ll figure it out eventually. 

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you

☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.

"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.

your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.

he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.

with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..

"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"

there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.

he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.

his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."

with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.

MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.

"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.

but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"

his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.

"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.

he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.

he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"

KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.

kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.

"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.

"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.

"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.

"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.

"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."

you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..

BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.

"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.

"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?

"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.

you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.

"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.

him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..

he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..

[bellflowerpuddle]

 I love powerpoint night things lol i thought id try my hand

Matt: aw no big deal man

Allison: wdym places youve slept??

Nicky: do we finally get to know all the countries youve lived in?? omg

Neil: um

Nicky: oh

Aaron: wtf where else would you sleep

Kevin: is that andrews bed

Dan: i feel like that ranking is a little high but whatever

Allison: why is that chair in the woods

Neil: ok next slide

Andrew: nice

Renee: oh it is a nice view

Aaron: how tf did you get up there

Matt: WHY did you get up there

Allison: how does that have a 6/10 neil how low are your standards

Andrew: pretty low

Nicky: what

Neil: oh yeah that one was a hassle

Nicky: ALMOST FELL??

Neil: woops

Aaron: smells like what

Andrew: junkie

Kevin: that is not what a locker room is for

Dan: whose locker room is that??

Dan: ON A? ON A TRUCK???

Matt: how did you even get up there?

Renee: actually thats really impressive

Neil: thanks :)

Nicky: we're not gonna talk about the 'almost fell' again? or the 'yelled at'?

Andrew: whats to talk about

Nicky: no comment

Dan: i think we need to start considering the possibility that neil has superpowers

Kevin: climbing trees is childsplay

Allison: yeah but sleeping in them?? without falling??

Nicky: its important to note that this one does not say 'almost fell'

Neil: i was surprisingly secure

Matt: wdym 'kind of obvious'

Neil: when you see someone sleeping in a tree thats pretty suspicious

Andrew: have you met yourself

Neil: and i try not to draw attention to myself, yknow father and mafia and all

Andrew: have you met yourself

Allison: not surprised about the beef with squirrels tho

Renee: neil when did you get good at climbing

Neil: its a talent

Aaron: surprisingly high rating again, are we sure neil knows how rating works

Allison: EW YOU SLEPT THERE?

Nicky: neil...honey...

Neil: it was one time guys

Dan: at least this is the worst one right neil

Neil:

Dan: right neil?

Nicky: i am very concerned for you neil

Aaron: how tf do you even manage that

Renee: we're not gonna talk about the fact that he passed out ??

Dan: this rating i can understand at least

Allison: no. no this is where i draw the line

Kevin: this and not the stairs or the alley?

Nicky: its the fact that this is rated higher than either of those for me

Matt: your lack of self preservation skills still astounds me

Neil: try before you deny

Aaron: fuck no

Neil: coward

Renee: well wasnt that just a great presentation guys

Dan: neil please have a sleepover with us

[radioactive-zafiro60]

Batfam + JL (where the Justice League finds out about the Batfam by accident)

To long for a one-shot but not really a micro-fic, anyway ENJOY:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a virtual meeting with the LJ Batman "disconnects" the camera... Except he does something wrong and now he thinks none can see or hear him but everyone on the JL it's watching him in the Batcave from a huge screen.

Wonder Woman: Maybe we should tell him... Or at least turn the tv off...

Flash: WAIT!!! Don't you wanna know what the bat does when he thinks nobody is watching????

Superman (trying not to sound to enthusiastic): Well maybe we could just take a quick look... :)

Here is a list of things the JL saw or found out because of this:

1) Batman taking off most of his armour and his mask and start working in some case in his desk in front of the computer (the angle of the cámara doesn't let see his face not OH GOD it lets se his huge pecs and arms in nothing but a gray underwear shirt

Flash: Well LOOK AT THAT, I always knew he was well build but that's a great look in so many ways

Green Lantern: No shit... This is making me realize some things about myself

Wonder Woman: ... I have better arms

Superman (2 seconds about to have a stroke): oh yea... Well... I'm just gonna... *Takes a picture with his phone*

2) A general panic gets on the JL when a dark skinned toddler enters the screen and tries to climb THE BATMAN

*Through the screen*

Toddler Duke pulling Batman's arm: *baby noises*

Batman looking away from his work to see the kid (his face still not visible on the camera): Oh hello chum, what are you doing here?

The JL incredibly confused and estranged because of that sweet voice they NEVER heard before:

Batman pulling Dukes up and carrying him on his chest while he keeps working: It's ok baby, your siblings we'll be back soon

The LJ:

Flash: HE'S A FATHER??!!!

Wonder Woman: this actually explains a lot of things

Superman (with his heart about to physically melt): ...oh... That's cute

3) A sassy teenager arriving home

Batman, still with the kid on top of him and still working, when a black haired boy enters the screen and throws a backpack on the ground

Batman: How was school?

Tim, annoyed: Boring, they keep teaching me thins I already know

Batman: Well what do you wanna learn about?

Tim (pulling a bunch of folders and papers out of his school bag): The Gotham strangulator...

Batman:...

Batman (surprisingly calm) : Did you steal a case from my desk?

Tim: I solved a case from your desk, you welcome

Batman (sighing): ok fine, put it with the others you solve that I have to present to the JL next week

Tim (putting in the desk a huge bunch of archives): oki doki

Flash: Wait so a kid do his paperwork????

Marcian: Wait so a kid SOLVES his cases???

Wonder Woman: Do you think that maybe is Robin? I mean I have never seen him from close but it could be...

Superman: I honestly need a brake

Batman *standing up with Duke on arms*: I'm gonna put your brother to sleep DONT DO ANYTHING

Tim (without even looking up from his phone): mhmh...

4) After a while of just watching Tim on his phone a little menace decides to show up

Tim (on his phone not paying attention):

Litle Damian arriving and standing with a straight face in front of the computer:

Flash (a little bit terrified): Can he see us??!!!

Wonder Woman: He shouldn't be able... But if that's Batman's kid, who knows

Damian (with the most serious voice a 8 year old can make): Computer, show me funny videos of cats

The computer *unresponding*

Tim: Dad told you not to play with the computer

Damian: Well father is not here right now, and if you tell him I'll tell him you just call him "dad"

Tim: no I didn't!

Damian: yes you did!

Tim: he's just my legal guardian!!!

Damian: But you call him dad just now!!!

Tim: you...

*Tim and Damian fighting and rolling in the floor*

Aquaman: oh so this is what having siblings is like?...

Superman: IS THAT A FREAKING COW??!!

*Batcow on the back of the image watching the kids fight without giving a fuck*

Wonder Woman: IS THAT A SWORD??!!!!

*Also Damian pulling a sword put of nothing to fight Tim and the JL freaking out*

*A teenage girl appears out of nowhere and grabs Damian as if it was nothing*

Cass: What are you even doing?!

5) A terrifying ballerina scolds her brothers (by this point the JL already has popcorns and bets on the table)

This ballerina girl who magically appears and stops the little psico stares at them in confusion

Cass: Why are you even fighting about???

Tim: None of your business

Damian: Timothy is a jerk

Cass: I already know that

*A notice from the computer catches everybody's attention*

(Batman calling them from the computer in a way the JL can only hear his voice but the kids and Batman can definitely see each other)

Batman *on the speaker phone*: Why is everyone at home so early?

Cass: My ballet class is over

Damian: I didn't go to school today, I didn't want to

Batman (exasperated): We will discuss this later, I had to go out there is an emergency in the city, DONT GO OUT! DONT KILL EACH OTHER! AND DAMIAN GET THAT COW OUT OF THE BATCAVE

Damian: But what if something happens to her???!!!!

Cass: Hate to interrupt but I have a good and a bad new

Batman: Just go ahead with the good news

Cass: I GOT A ROLE IN THE NUTCRACKER!!!

Batman (who has no idea what the Nutcracker is about but is trying to be a supportive father) : Honey that's great!! Are you gonna be some pretty candy princess or something?

Cass (who is actually gona be the rat king and is really excited about it): sure... Wana hear the bad news??

Batman: shot

Cass: Jayson is in jail

Batman:

Cass: Again

Tim and Damian trying not to laugh:

Batman: that's it *pointing to Tim* ho upstairs and babysit your brother, Cassandra and Damian I want you out of the Batcave until I'm back and someone call Richard so he can get your brother out of jail

*The JL losing their shit in confusion and laug*

+

Batman eventually finds out about this little incident but decides to ignore it and pretend it never happened. The LJ is amused

[loveesiren]

𝖤𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 (𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖳𝗐𝗈)

Rafe Cameron x Reader | Part One

a/n: Here's part two! Thank you for all the love on this mini series. I'll be posting part three on Monday!

synopsis: Y/N has always been close to the Cameron family, practically a part of it after years of friendship. Beneath the surface, unspoken feelings simmer between her and Rafe, but neither of them can muster the courage to admit it. When Y/N finally decides to move on, setting her sights on a new man, he’s forced to confront the truth: losing her might cost him more than he ever realized.

warnings: language, slight angst

wc: 2.4k+

Your date with JJ was going surprisingly well. Dinner at the club had been set up by Sarah—she knew JJ wouldn’t exactly be the “wine and dine” type on his own but figured he’d appreciate the effort. To his credit, he carried the conversation effortlessly, keeping you laughing and genuinely interested.

“Sarah was nice to set this up,” JJ said, his trademark grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, dinner was great!” you replied, your bubbly tone matching the sparkle in your eyes.

JJ leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What do you say we finish the night a little more Pogue style?” he asked, his smirk dripping with mischief.

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, curious. “And what does that entail?”

“A kegger at the Boneyard,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “We’ll take my bike. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The club was elegant, sure, but it felt lifeless—hardly what you’d call a Saturday night. A bonfire and a few drinks sounded like the perfect way to round out the evening. “Okay, I’m in!”

JJ’s grin widened as he stood, offering you his hand. He led you out of the club and to his bike, pulling the helmet off the handlebars. “Safety first,” he said with a wink, holding it out to you.

Butterflies danced in your stomach as you bit your lip, taking the helmet from him. You slipped it on and climbed onto the bike, your sundress brushing against his jeans as you wrapped your arms snugly around his waist.

“Ready?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Definitely,” you replied, your voice filled with excitement.

JJ revved the engine, and the bike roared to life beneath you. The wind whipped through your hair, and you let out a delighted squeal as the adrenaline rushed through your veins. The sunset painted the world in warm hues of orange and pink as the scenery blurred past. For those few moments, you felt completely free.

The ride ended too soon, and before you knew it, you were pulling up to the Boneyard. JJ helped you off the bike, his hands brushing yours as you removed the helmet and shook out your beachy waves. The soft breeze teased the hem of your dress as you adjusted it, your cheeks flushed from the ride.

Rafe saw you the moment you arrived. He’d heard the rumble of JJ’s bike and had turned just in time to see you hop off, your arms still lingering around JJ’s waist. His heart skipped a beat—first from concern at seeing you on a motorcycle, then from something much darker.

He watched you in silence, his grip tightening around the drink in his hand. You moved effortlessly, like something out of a dream, your smile lighting up the beach as you waved hello to everyone. JJ had an arm draped casually around your shoulders, and the proud, almost smug look on his face made Rafe’s blood boil.

He sipped his drink, trying to ignore the sharp twist in his chest as you ran off to Sarah, no doubt eager to gush about the date. He turned back to the bonfire, pretending not to notice you spotting him from across the flames. But then you waved, your excitement palpable. Rafe mustered a smile and waved back, the motion feeling heavier than it should have.

“Hey, Rafey!” you called, bounding toward him.

“Hey,” he replied, forcing a grin as you wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug. The scent of your perfume lingered in the air, softening him for just a moment.

“How was your date?” he asked, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

“It actually went really well!” you beamed, your enthusiasm making his heart sink. “JJ’s really funny,” you added, glancing back at the boy in question. JJ was deep in conversation with Pope and Kiara, gesturing animatedly.

Rafe swallowed hard, his chest tightening as he fought to keep his tone light. “Good. I’m glad,” he said, though the words tasted bitter. Glad? He wasn’t glad. He wasn’t anywhere close to glad. He was furious, jealous, and heartbroken all at once.

You didn’t seem to notice his strained smile, too focused on the drinks table. “I just came to grab some drinks,” you explained, filling two cups with beer from the keg. “But don’t worry—tomorrow, I’m all yours! I’ll bring lunch, and we can finish unpacking your place.”

Rafe forced a smile. “Sounds perfect,” he said, even though the idea of unpacking felt hollow compared to the sight of you glowing after your date.

You flashed him one last dazzling smile before hurrying back to JJ, the two drinks in hand. Rafe’s eyes followed you helplessly as you leaned into JJ, handing him a cup and laughing in a way Rafe had never seen before. It was a carefree, uninhibited laugh—like JJ had unlocked a piece of you that Rafe hadn’t been able to reach.

And then he saw it.

JJ tilted your chin up with his hand, his lips brushing softly against yours in a way that felt both casual and intimate. The sight hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, his chest tightening as a sharp sting pricked his eyes. He blinked hard, willing the tears away.

“You good, dude?” Topper’s voice broke through the haze. He clapped a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, offering him another beer.

Rafe’s gaze didn’t waver from the two of you down the beach. “Yeah,” he muttered, though his voice was hollow.

Topper followed his line of sight and let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he said simply, patting Rafe on the back. “Come on, dude. Let’s get shitfaced.”

Rafe tore his eyes away from you, taking the beer from Topper. He didn’t trust himself to look at you again. Instead, he drained the cup in one long gulp, the alcohol doing little to dull the ache in his chest.

Because for the first time, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what jealousy felt like. And it wasn’t just jealousy—it was fear. Fear that he might have already lost you to someone else. Fear that he’d never be able to tell you just how much you meant to him.

You weren’t just a fleeting crush, or some girl who came and went. You were Y/N. His best friend. His ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark world.

And now, you might never be his.

Despite your pounding headache and a stomach still queasy from the night before, you kept your promise to Rafe. You had fallen asleep peacefully in JJ’s arms on the beach, lulled by the soft crash of waves and the warmth of his embrace. But the morning was far less forgiving. The bright sunrise pierced through your closed eyelids, the wind stung your skin, and the sand clung stubbornly to every surface.

JJ had been sweet, though, giving you a ride back to your car, still parked at the club. He kissed you goodbye, his lips soft but brief, and you couldn’t help but smile as you drove to Rafe’s house.

“Hey!” you greeted, your usual cheerful tone intact, though your face gave away the telltale signs of a hangover.

Rafe opened the door, his expression soft but guarded. “Hey,” he replied with a half-smile, stepping aside to let you in.

The moment you flopped onto his couch, Rafe went into caretaker mode. He handed you a liquid IV packet and a greasy breakfast sandwich, his silent way of nursing you back to life.

“You’re the fucking best,” you said through a mouthful of bacon, smiling as the salty, greasy goodness worked its magic. “Thank you!”

Rafe smiled back, but his eyes told a different story. Beneath the surface, there was something heavy, something unspoken.

“Are you okay?” you asked, narrowing your eyes as you studied his face.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, brushing off your concern. “Just had a bit too much to drink last night, too.” He averted his gaze, avoiding the real reason for his melancholy.

Before you could press him further, a knock at the door interrupted. Sarah burst in, John B trailing behind her.

“Ugh, kill me now!” Sarah groaned dramatically, throwing herself into your arms. “Why did we drink so much?!”

You chuckled, smoothing down her knotted hair. “Because we’re dumbasses,” you teased, and she whined in agreement.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rafe asked, his voice tinged with mild annoyance. “We already moved all the furniture.”

“Needed to get away from the house,” John B said, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Figured we’d help unpack.”

You glanced at Rafe, offering a soft, understanding smile. You had been looking forward to spending the day alone with him. There was something simmering beneath the surface, something he wasn’t saying, and you wanted to help him let it out. But with Sarah and John B here, that wasn’t going to happen.

Rafe’s smile in return was faint and sad. There it was again—the longing in his eyes, the weight of words left unsaid. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it tugged at your heart.

The day dragged on for Rafe. While he and John B worked in tense silence, he could hear your laughter from the other room as Sarah bombarded you with questions about JJ.

“So, do you like him?” Sarah asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Yeah, the date was great,” you admitted, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’d love to see him again.”

The words were like shards of glass in Rafe’s ears, cutting deep. His stomach churned with every mention of JJ’s name, and it only got worse as the conversation continued.

“Can you guys talk about anything else?” John B finally said, shooting a pointed look at Sarah.

Sarah rolled her eyes but giggled, turning the conversation toward the TV show you’d been binging together.

Rafe visibly relaxed at the shift in topic, though the tension in his shoulders remained.

“You like her, don’t you?” John B asked quietly, his voice low enough that you and Sarah couldn’t hear.

“Is it that obvious?” Rafe replied, placing books on the shelf in front of him, his movements deliberate and slow.

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

Rafe hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “She doesn’t feel the same,” he said finally. “We’re just friends.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t you hear the way she talks about him?” Rafe gestured toward the living room where your laughter rang out like music. “She’s happy. That’s all I want for her.”

John B studied him for a moment, then sighed. “Look, man. JJ’s my best friend, and he’s a great guy. But…”

“But what?” Rafe asked, his voice sharp with urgency.

“But JJ will move on,” John B said, his tone calm and measured. “If it doesn’t work out, he’ll be fine. He’s got options—Kiara’s had a thing for him forever anyway.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened as he absorbed John B’s words. He wanted to believe them, wanted to think there was still a chance for him. But after a long moment, he shook his head.

“It’s not my choice,” Rafe said quietly. “It’s hers. If JJ makes her happy, then that’s what matters. I’d never forgive myself if I ruined it for her.”

John B nodded, his respect for Rafe growing. “That’s big of you,” he said.

Rafe didn’t respond, his focus fixed on a box of photo frames.

He knew what it would mean to keep quiet—to watch from the sidelines as you fell deeper into someone else’s arms. But no matter how much it hurt, he wasn’t going to risk your happiness. If things didn’t work out with JJ, Rafe would be there to pick up the pieces. And if they did, he’d swallow his pain and smile for you—even if it killed him inside.

Because to Rafe, your happiness was worth more than his own.

-

John B and Sarah called it a day around 6 p.m., leaving just you and Rafe on the balcony. The sun was still hanging low in the summer sky, casting everything in a warm, golden light. The air was soft and salty, carrying the gentle crash of waves from the shore below. You and Rafe cracked jokes and laughed, sipping cold beers as the hours melted into one another.

Rafe’s smile seemed effortless, and you relished seeing him that way. What you didn’t notice was the way his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking—admiring the way your sun-kissed skin glowed and the way your beachy waves fell perfectly over your shoulders. It felt peaceful, like nothing could disturb the calm of the moment.

Until your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen, and a wide smile stretched across your face. Rafe noticed instantly, his heart sinking as he already knew who it was.

“Hey, uh, JJ wants to pick me up,” you said, your tone light. “Is it okay if I leave my car here for now?”

Rafe’s smile faltered, replaced by a frown he couldn’t hide.

“Are you okay?” you asked, your brow furrowing with concern.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” he muttered, his voice clipped and cold as he took another swig of beer.

“Rafe… is something wrong?” you pressed, sensing the shift in his mood.

“Nope,” he said flatly, standing abruptly and heading inside.

You scoffed, setting your beer down as you followed after him. “Something is obviously wrong, Rafe,” you said, your voice firm but confused. “I’ve seen it in your eyes these past few days. Just tell me what’s going on!”

Rafe stopped, his jaw tight as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “Just go, Y/N. Get out,” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air between you.

You froze, stunned. Rafe had never spoken to you like this before. Tears pricked your eyes as you processed his words. For a moment, you wanted to yell back, to demand an explanation, but the lump in your throat made it impossible.

“I’ll get out,” you whispered, grabbing your bag with trembling hands. You texted JJ to meet at his house instead, desperate to get far away from Rafe.

Rafe watched from the window as your car disappeared down the road. The weight of regret settled over him. He clenched his fists, hating himself for lashing out at you. You didn’t deserve that. Not even close.

In an attempt to dull the pain, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and locked himself in his room, determined to drink away the ache in his chest.

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[hawkinsbnbg]

Soulmates au where Steve's soulmate is a man of culture.

ao3

Steve got Good boy inscribed on his butt, just on the right cheek.

It would be funny if it was a tattoo Steve had gotten one time when he was too drunk and on a dare.

Except it wasn't a tattoo. At all.

Even though it kind of looked like one.

It was the first words his soulmate would say to him.

When Steve first got it, his friends had given him odd looks in the locker room.

Tommy would use many excuses to touch and even Billy wouldn't shut up about it.

As for Carol, she just cackled her head off when he showed it to her.

Still, whenever Steve was alone, he would look at the words in the mirror and feel kinda giddy about the whole thing.

Who would call someone they had just met "good boy"? What if they were far older than him?

And what would his words be for them? "Yes sir"? "Hello sir"?

Soon, he found his answer when he learned about the BDSM world, which Robin had jokingly mentioned one time.

And Steve sort of fell down the rabbit hole since then.

He met many men and women who would call him "good boy", and occasionally "good girl".

But none of them felt right.

Until he heard about Kas.

Who was known to be an experienced dom and knew how to treat his subs right.

Most of the subs in Steve's circle put the man on a pedestal. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on.

And Steve had become curious enough to seek him out.

A quick text over the phone and Steve already had a date with Kas at a hotel on Friday night.

Once the day arrived, he dolled himself up a little, knowing many doms liked how rosy cheeks and pouty lips he was.

He even wore lipgloss and mascara just for good luck.

His outfit was simple enough to take off, but cute nonetheless.

A yellow and pink graffitied black sweater that was a little baggy on him, a tiny pearl choker, silver bracelets, a pair of jeans shorts, and baby pink sneakers.

He looked like a twink, all things considered.

It wasn't his first time dressing like this and it wouldn't be the last time, either.

Steve just..

Well, he just wanted to make sure if he stumbled on his soulmate who happened to be a dom, he wouldn't disappoint them too badly.

It had been years since his word first appeared. So he had the right to be a little bit desperate.

Steve didn't know why, but by the time he got to the hotel, he was a puddle of nerves.

He figured that maybe it was the "Kas' effect" that many people had told him about.

When the door opened to let Kas into the room, Steve just knew this man was going to rock his world.

Kas was attractive and tall. Easily having a couple of inches on him.

With long curly hair, big brown eyes, and plump lips, the man looked surprisingly intimidating.

He wore a burgundy shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing his tattoos and chunky silver rings.

His pants and heavy boots were made of leather, which Steve suddenly wanted to rub himself on.

He seemed to be a lanky type, but Steve knew better than to assume anything.

As Kas languidly made his way to the bed, Steve unconsciously slid down to the floor and got on his knees, waiting for his order.

Yeah, he was a good boy like that.

There was a reason why many doms had asked to keep him despite knowing he only let his soulmate own him.

Kas wasn't any different.

The man smiled at him, dimpled and warm, making Steve woozy a bit at being praised even wordlessly.

Once Kas sat down, he spread his thighs slightly and patted a hand on his lap.

Understanding the silent command immediately, Steve climbed up on it without being told twice.

He blushed and giggled a bit when strong arms wrapped around his waist securely.

"Good boy," said Kas huskily, smelling of cigarettes and something spicy. "What do you want for your reward, sweetheart?"

Steve felt his breath hitched at that. He knew the chance wasn't high but–

"Can I kiss you, sir?" He asked coyly, playing his role to perfection.

This time, it was Kas who took a sharp intake.

Surprise, disbelief, uncertainty, hope, and finally, joy settled on the man's handsome features.

Kas smiled at him again, more genuine and hopeful.

"Baby boy, do you know that I have those words written on my left ribs my entire life?"

"Show me," Steve demanded, unable to keep up the act when he was so close to finding his soulmate.

Without protest, Kas unbuttoned his shirt and there it was, scribbled on the man's pale skin was Can I kiss you, sir? in his handwriting.

Smiling fondly, Steve traced his fingers on those words.

They sounded so sweet. And yet concerning if being put into the wrong context.

What a pair they made.

"Can you show me yours, sweetheart?" Kas asked tentatively, looking unsure despite having been so confident just a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, sure, of course," Steve scrambled up from the man's lap and blushed as he turned around to unzip and pull down his shorts.

Hearing Kas curse quietly behind him was, perhaps, the most flattering moment in his life.

He could see what kind of an image he made with his baggy sweater bunching up around his waist, white thong, and Good boy being inked on his tanned buttcheek.

Some would call it hot, sexy, or erotic.

But Steve knew how obscene he looked with those words on him.

Especially when he was face down and ass up, waiting to be fucked into oblivion.

Not that he had let anyone fuck him, yet. But he wouldn't mind if Kas did it tonight.

Steve shuddered slightly as calloused fingers brushed on his cool skin, and let out a moan when hot lips placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

Then without pausing, strong hands grabbed his hips before sharp teeth sank into his flesh, eliciting a yelp from him.

It wasn't painful. It just made Steve want to ask for more. So he turned around to do exactly that.

"Kas–"

"Call me Eddie," the man tugged him back into his lap.

"Eddie," he breathed out as he straddled the man's thighs.

"Yes, my sunshine?" Eddie smiled adoringly at him.

"Can I kiss you now?" Steve braced his hands on the broad shoulders with a raised eyebrow.

Tightening the arms around his waist, Eddie pecked him on his chin, sweet and loving.

"How about I let you kiss me for the rest of our lives, my pretty angel?"

"And I'll be yours for as long as we live?" Steve murmured against those plump lips.

"Yeah, gonna treat you right, my good boy," Eddie chuckled before drawing him into a fervent kiss.

Steve was so going to thank that Chrissy girl who had sold him her mascara and lipgloss later.