#it's my headcanon for him so I made it made in this
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beastlyidiocy · 3 days ago
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Feuċ, súile Dé go fuireaċ air
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melioristicbeast · 1 day ago
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“Sorry,” Stiles said, unsure of why he was apologizing. “I’ve never heard that song before. Did you write it?”  Derek looked uncomfortable, maybe a touch embarrassed, which was answer enough. “It’s good. I like it. It’s calming.”  The small smile he got in response melted his heart a little bit. Fucking hell, he was so gone for this asshole. Stiles didn’t know what he was going to do. He wished he’d never realized how much he loved him. Wished he’d just continued to think they were best friends and nothing more. It was slowly going to kill him being so close, and yet so fucking far. Clearing his throat, he brought the book back up to continue reading, muttering that Derek should keep playing. He did, his fingers plucking gently at the strings, filling the loft with soft music. It really was calming, and soothing. Stiles really liked it. He liked it even more when he realized Derek could honestly express himself with the guitar. It still wasn’t a voice, but it was something, at least. 
Actions Speak Louder than Words (ch18) by @isthatbloodonhisshirt
This fic is what spurred me to start doing sterek fanart back in the beginning of december - magic!stiles, cursed!derek, stiles/jackson terrifying everyone else as friends - an incredible 430K story with a completely endearing slow-burn and slowly unfolding exploration of the characters and their relationship, made complete with the perfect bow of cursed-mute-Derek because 'Derek's eyebrows have a language of their own but only Stiles is fluent' is my favorite and this author does it SO well. And gives Derek a guitar. Derek plays a guitar!!
Ella, consider this my loveletter to your works - they all, this one in particular, buoyed me through a tough time in my life and brought me back to a love of drawing that I haven't had in years and a fandom that has been so generous in their support of my silly art. Thank you for sharing your works!
And a huge thank you to everyone's support so far - the sweet comments in replies, the unhinged all-caps tags, yes-and'ing my silly ideas and headcanons, i'm just over here kicking my feet and giggling and definitely not getting teary-eyed over it no siree no lacrimal action happening here
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bcmbiquinn · 2 days ago
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Boyfriend!Eddie Munson Headcanons
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‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d always make mixtapes/playlists for you for any occasion, “songs that remind me of us” “we should make out to this rhythm” type of thing.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’d drag you to every underground metal concert he can find but he would also go to any concert you want.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Following the above, he would do anything to get you tickets for your favourite artist, like anything! Camping the night before to be early in line -modern Eddie would have a laptop, 3 phones and a tablet to get you tickets-
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Late night drives with your boy, yup! Blasting music, windows down and taking random turns until you end up in a secluded spot and make out for hours. (Maybe more)
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie is definitely a total romantic, he would write you cheesy love notes on scraps of paper, make poems for you, showing up late at night outside your window with a flower he stole from your neighbour yard.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would try on making breakfast for you, but it’s mostly just burnt toast and half cooked scrambled eggs, he tried tho!
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Touchy touchy, this man can’t take his hands off of you, pinching your cheeks, hand on your lower back, on your knees, caressing your arm, kisses on your forehead and neck and so on.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Eddie definitely needs a lot of reassurance, deep inside he always feels like people would eventually leave him, he desperately wants you to reassure him but struggles to ask for it, but once you do it and tell him there’s no one else you’d rather be, he melts instantly!
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s really into matching tattoos and would love to get one with you but if you’re hesitant about, he’d just draw one on you with a sharpie.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ ridiculously overprotective, you stub your toe, he’s like “Who did this to you?” Then proceeds to flip of the chair or hit the couch with his foot and ends up hurting himself too!
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He’s sooo dramatic when he gets a cold, acts like he’s dying, all tucked acting like he’s on his deathbed holding your hand dramatically “my love…i don’t think I’d make it this time”
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He can’t lie and definitely can’t keep secrets from you, if he has planned a surprise for you, he’s going to mess up immediately “Okay but when we get to the… I mean the totally normal thing we're doing! Forget what i said that!”
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He would stole your snacks and leftovers, his logic? “What’s yours is mine, love. That’s how love works”
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He takes fake offence to everything, if you say you don’t like a band he loves he would act as if you just stabbed him.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He’s genuinely protective of you, if someone upset you he goes full beast mode, “do I need to kick someone’s ass?” He doesn’t play about you or your safety.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ if he’s ever mad at you, he would never be mean, he may cross his arms and grumble but the moment you give him puppy eyes he melts “you’re so lucky I love you, you little gremlin”
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ Our boy is a crybaby but he never had someone to rely on until he found you, he would try to hold his tears but the moment you hug him and whisper “I got you, Eds” it’s over, he buries his face on your shoulder shaking as he sobs.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ He loves making gifts for you, he thinks it’s way more romantic, he would spent hours making the perfect necklace, ring for you, love letters, a scrapbook with all the memories you’ve made together, concert tickets, Polaroids.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He totally loves your quirks, if you’re into collecting rocks, you better believe he would get you the prettiest rocks!
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He would give you one of his rings and if it doesn’t fit on your finger because it’s too big he would turn it into a necklace.
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧he would give the most out of place birthday cards “congratulations on your promotion” “yaaaaaaaaay”
‧˚ʚɞ˚‧He gives you his stuff to you for no reason, his jacket? Take it, his favourite band pin? Take it. If you ever mention liking something he has, straight right into your hands “No, really take it, I don’t even need it” he probably does need it.
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We’re close to valetine’s day baddies!
Divider: @adornedwithlight
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yuyusshinelight · 3 days ago
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Dad thoughts feat ATEEZ: I want a brother/sister
♪ This post is about how I think they would be as parents; just that, some thoughts. This does NOT represent any of Ateez's members in any way.
♪ English is not my first language so sorry if there's any mistake.
Vocabulary just in case someone doesn't know:
y/s/n — your son's name
y/d/n — your daughter's name
Byeol — star
Jagi — sweetheart, darling, etc...
Note: Hi my shining stars! Here I come with a new scenario for our boys being dads because I know how much you like those parenting headcanons. I hope you like it and enjoy your reading. Love you all!!!
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SEONGHWA
Seonghwa and your daughter were peacefully building their Lego sets together when the older Park decided to have a conversation about that not too little issue you had commented to him when he had arrived at home "I have heard that you want a little sibling, byeol" and the little girl only nodded, not stopping her really important task of mistakenly making the base of the moon on which his half-finished Sanrio doll should lie "And can daddy know why you want a little brother or sister?".
Seonghwa was clearly trying to get your daughter to tell him the same thing you had told him that afternoon without asking her directly. The way you looked at the ground with a soft pout when you told him that your little star had been sad lately for being only child had him worried about the issue being more serious than he though at first.
"I don't like to be alone" At that confession Seonghwa's heart stopped. Perhaps you two had made her feel lonely without realizing it? "But you have mommy and daddy, my love".
"It's not the same... We can't stay together all the time" The sadness with which his beloved daughter said that felt like the most hurtful stab directly into his heart, it even made Seonghwa hate his work for a moment "Daddy and mommy would like to be with you all the time, baby, but—".
"But you can't, I know..." For how his baby had finished his sentence, Seonghwa couldn't help but feel worse, her small but heartbreaking pout could be perfectly appreciated in her sweet voice.
Something in his head snapped.
In the gentlest way he could, the man took his daughter from her seat to put her on his lap and give her that so needed hug he was craving for "Don't you worry, byeol, mommy and daddy will bring you a little brother or sister, okay?" The speed at which her head turned to look him directly in the eyes even scared the poor man with the possibility of a sudden dizziness or some blow to his little girl from such an action but all his worries erased as fast as your daughter moved her head seconds before thanks to the way in which her eyes shone brighter than ever, holding the galaxy itself in those small orbs exactly like his own "Really? It's a promise?".
The excitement on the little girl's face brought out the most tender and sincere smile from Seonghwa who didn't last long to rub his nose against hers, showering her soft cheeks with many kisses "It's a promise, my byeol".
And maybe he should have talked about the sibling thing with you before promising it to your daughter but, let's not lie, Seonghwa knew you better than yourself; the moment he said yes to his daughter he was already counting on you to be more than okay with having a second child. In fact, you were the one who laid Seonghwa on your shared bed after making sure that your child was peacefully asleep on her own to ride him like never before until he decided to change positions to bury himself even deeper inside you. It wasn't in his plans to break the promise he made to his little star so he fucked you until he left your belly nicely swollen with his seed.
Neither of you could deny anything to your little four-year-old walking smile.
HONGJOONG
"I want a little sister" said your three-year-old son as he perched himself in his father's work chair, a phrase that made Hongjoong drop whatever he was with that same moment and look at the kid "What? Why all of a sudden?".
"My best friend just had one and she's very cute" The way in which his baby waddled slowly without letting go of the chair, with that rascally face inherited from him himself, looking at him expectantly for an affirmative answer, brought out of Hongjoong his most genuine smile "Well, yes. Babies are really cute" he said, ruffling his hair before picking him up and sitting the child on his lap "but that's not a reason to have one, love".
For how the minor gasped dramatically while frowning, there was no doubt that that response had even offended him. This little boy's reactions were so comically unique that Hongjoong's stomach even hurt from laughing on many occasions.
"But I want one!" The child said as if it was the most prevalent reason to have a baby, and Hongjoong was about to talk but the appearance of his favorite girl stopped him "I think I have something to say in all this no?" You said, entering the room until you were standing next to your husband, something that didn't last long because said husband didn't like the idea of not having you closer so he sat you on his free leg; and it's not like you were going to complain, in fact, you hugged him "It's my belly the one that's going to hold that little sister for nine months".
"How?" As soon as he asked, both parents' eyes widened. You should have assumed he would ask, but hey, it's not like you mind talking about it, not like Hongjoong apparently "How what, baby?" He acted dumb, clearly not wanting to have that conversation now, too young his son to talk about anything of that "How will the baby get into mommy's tummy?" But this little curious boy wasn't about to leave the topic for Hongjoong's misfortune, who even let out an accidental "Oh shit".
It had to be said that Hongjoong didn't expect that he should have to answer this question at this point of his short life as a father, nor did he expect that too adorable "Oh shit" from the kid either. Word that clearly set off your alarms as a mother "No, baby. Don't say that" You corrected him, booping his nose and waiting for the child to ask why he couldn't say it if his dad could but you were surprised with that too cute "Okay mommy".
Both you and Hongjoong were about to die of love.
"That's my good boy" Hongjoong said, ruffling his hair one more time and giving him a kiss on the head "So are you going to bring me a little sister yes or not?" You both looked at each other, not knowing exactly what to say, until Hongjoong decided to leave the answer hanging in the air "We'll see" to which your son answered with an unfortunate unexpected "Fuck".
"HONGJOONG" Was the first thing that crossed your mind, yelling at the surprised man that was now looking at you "I DIDN'T EVEN SAY THAT" But then he stopped, thinking for a moment "Well maybe he has learned it from me, yes..." And your son nodding only made you look even worse at your husband "Don't say that either, okay baby?" And with that your baby boy covered his mouth with his two little hands and nod one more time, making you both laugh.
YUNHO
It was a peaceful night at Jeong's residence until your eldest son ended with said peace after all those failed attempts to play with his little sister who was only dedicated to watch him move while eating her tiny fist so calmly in her baby-hammock.
"I want another brother or sister!" Your son screamed, running towards his father's open legs to hide his head in his crotch and hold on to his legs. Sudden blow to his private parts that made Yunho complain and you chuckled softly under your breath so as not to be discovered by your husband who was already looking at you with half-closed eyes and shaking his head despite being laughing too.
"Why do you say that, baby?" You asked after you managed to calm your laughter "Because Y/D/N never plays with me!" Your son screamed again, readjusting his posture while firming his grip without separating an inch from his father "It's that?" Yunho asked between laughs, stroking his little head after hearing his son complain in a sort of shouted sob "I mean, if you want another sibling daddy will give you one".
"Tch, Yunho" His first name, not jagi. Bad moment to put on display his pleaser nature, man "But you have to ask mommy too" And you nodded, he was safe "So... you want another sibling to play with because your sister can't, baby?" And your son nodded without taking his head off his father's body "But you have to know that if we give you a new brother or sister, they couldn't play with you either" And that's the moment your son lifted his head, looking at you directly with a mix of horror and surprise, as if what you had said was the strangest thing ever "Why?".
"Because they would be even smaller than Y/D/N".
"More?!" He was silent for a moment after both Yunho and you nodded, seeming to be reconsidering what you had just revealed to him, when he suddenly separated from Yunho completely, crossing his arms and giving you both his back angrily "I don't want another sibling then".
"Oh no, my third baby" Jeong senior said dramatically, he even put his hands on his chest where his heart was pretending to be hurt "Yunho" you said in a warning tone, taking your son in your arms to hug him, accommodating you two in the couch under the warmth of your favorite blanket "Oh, come on. Three kids sounds nice, don't you think?".
"Y/D/N is only seven months old, let me enjoy life without kicks that burst my ribs a little longer" You couldn't see it because you were too busy kissing your son but you already knew that Yunho was smiling for how happy he sounded saying "A little longer? Is that a yes to a third baby?" Which only confirmed to you that Yunho was indeed looking forward to having a third. And one thing you were never good at since you started dating him was saying no to him when he looked so adorably excited about something "It's a 'maybe when my ribs return to their natural position because your daughter opened them for kicking them so many times' ".
"We're having a third" Yunho said victoriously with that goofy smile that you fell in love with at first sight and that, to this day, was still one of your many weak points.
YEOSANG
"Daddy" your daughter said in the softest voice you could have ever heard in your life. You couldn't see her because you were at the laundry room while your husband and daughter were doing an afternoon snack but you could even swear that she was playing with her little fingers nervously for the tone she used. That was one of her gestures when she was about to ask for something "Tell me, darling" Yeosang sounded as cute as your daughter which made you smile foolishly, nothing could please you more than the fact that the two loves of your life were so much alike "Can I have a sibling, please?".
That question surely made you slow down the speed at which you were doing the laundry, as if that would help you to hear better. It was a topic Yeosang and you talked about a few months ago, both thinking that it would be nice to have a second child not only because you two think that having siblings is so beneficial for a kid, but because you both were attracted by the idea of expanding your family. Another living proof of your love for each other.
But those were your reasons to want another baby, what would your daughter's reasons be? You were curious about them. Just like Yeosang.
"Of course, darling. But can daddy know why you ask?" The tenderness with which your husband was handling this conversation, like every conversation he had with your daughter, was so heartwarming. You could die of a sweet high "I want a sibling to be my best friend forever" and your daughter was about to finish what her father had started.
Not being able to be a mere listener anymore, you put the small skirt you had in your hands back in the laundry basket to go out to the kitchen, finding the lovely picture of your daughter sitting at the counter next to your husband, helping him prepare a bowl of fruit for the three of you to enjoy together.
"Have you heard it, Y/N-ah?" Yeosang said, looking at you with a cute smile that made his dimples stand out. He looked so innocent that made your heart beat in happiness "That's why I'm here, jagi" you approached them, taking your daughter's cheeks between your hands "To tell our baby that mommy and daddy will try to give her a sibling as soon as possible" and then you showered your little girl with lots of kisses to which she replied more than delighted just to join forces you both a few seconds later to shower Yeosang with kisses as well. Something the male was more than happy to accept.
SAN
When your older daughter asked in the middle of the dinner for another sibling you choked with your water to which San quickly reacted by patting you gently on the back, a situation that seemed very funny to the youngest of the three children who couldn't stop laughing at mommy's coughing fit. Whoever was not amused at all was your middle child, and it was not surprising after how much she cried and threw a tantrum when San and you told her that she was going to be big sister.
"Another one?!" She looked at her parents with a mixture of fear, surprise and rejection in her eyes that threatened to burst into tears if you gave her an affirmative answer. She looked so affected that she even worried you both. San couldn't see his kid like that "No, baby" he answered with so much tenderness, hugging the kid and giving her a soft kiss on her forehead before looking at you and asking "No?".
Who knows, maybe you were expecting a fourth child and he didn't know it.
But you shook your head what made your older daughter cross her arms and openly complain about not having a fourth sibling to which your second daughter yelled a not too nice "Three are fine!" Frowning and getting up from her seat to climb onto her father's lap so he could hold her as she wanted, searching for his comfort "But I want another brother!" The eldest answered in the same way her sister had spoken. The girls' tone only hinted at an impending fight between them, something that neither San nor you wanted obviously so San immediately cut them off with a serious "Enough girls".
San hated to use a severe tone with his children but he hated even more the idea of having a fight between his daughters when it was supposed to be a nice and lovely dinner in family. Much worse if the fight was going to be about whether or not to have another member in your family.
"What have we said about raising our voices in a bad way?" He said with seriousness, which made both kids look down with a pout "Sorry..." Both girls said at unison, now looking up at their father before looking at the other, your middle child climbing off San's lap to hug her older sister as an apology. Both had been taught to apologise to each other with a hug to make amends.
And after seeing that your daughters were fine again you decided to settle the dispute "About the sibling thing" both girls had their attention on you now "Daddy and mommy think that three kids are enough, by the moment" which made your second daughter smile unconsciously while your eldest pouted "But that doesn't mean that we won't bring you another sibling in the future" this time your second daughter was the one not looking so pleased while the eldest was smiling.
From the way they both nodded you knew they were content but not satisfied with that. You had given birth to them and raised them, you knew absolutely every single one of their gestures and what they meant. But hey, the discussion was over and you could go back to dinner in peace.
MINGI
"I like this one" Your son said, pointing to a photo in which both children were curled up in their father's arms, the three of them sleeping on the couch comfortably, Mingi hadn't even changed his clothes; one of your favorite pictures in fact, just looking at it almost brought tears to your eyes "In this one dad had just arrived from a tour. You refused to leave his arms even for a single second".
"How old were we?" This one was your daughter "Seven months" Mingi answered, smiling at the memory of how his babies received him that day with their little arms raised, calling him between really cute babblings while they moved nervously in their mother's arms "Such cute babies we were and I don't remember that" Your daughter said dramatically "We need a baby in this house".
"Wait, what?" You looked between your kids and Mingi, who was as surprised as you from hearing that, getting even more surprised when your son agreed with his sister "Right! If we have a little brother or sister they will look as cute as us!".
"Woo, woo, woo. Slow down you two" Mingi tried to calm his already excited twins but it didn't work at all "And why a little brother or a little sister when we can have both?" Your daughter ignored him to continue her talk with her brother, you could almost swear that her eyes were shining. But here dad came to try to calm the situation a second time after seeing the way in which your eyes widened "I told you to slow down, neither your mom nor I have said that we are going to bring you a sibling".
"But daddy! We lost each other as a baby!" Your son exclaimed dramatically as if it was the worst thing ever, with his hands on his father's cheeks and his head tilted back to add more drama "We want to have a baby at home" your daughter pouted sadly with a frown and, before Mingi had the opportunity to reply to that you suddenly said "Well, they really seem very excited about the idea of being big bother and sister, daddy" looking at him with a knowing smile. Apparently he had misinterpreted that expression of yours from a few seconds ago.
The fact is that Mingi had caught your message but, with both children staring at him expectantly, he couldn't do anything but respond to you with one look that only you could interpret: tomorrow you weren't going to be able to get out of bed. But that was only for you, obviously, the answer for your twins was "Then it seems to me that the family is going to grow, mommy " For which your living room ended up filled with euphoric shouts from your kids.
WOOYOUNG
"Babe, come here!" Wooyoung screamed from the kitchen and a lot of horrible things crossed your mind, since your son had been burned until he had cut one of his fingers "What happens?! I swear to god that if my baby is missing just one finger I'll—".
"None of that, I have everything under control here. Just listen to what our baby has to tell you" and with that all your attention went to your three year old boy who was jumping in the stool he was standing on to help his dad with dinner "I want a little sister!" And at such a revelation you could only blink several times, looking between father and son in silence until, after blinking a few more times, you said a simple "A sister".
"Yes!" Your eldest son said really excited, jumping even higher in his spot to which Wooyoung already had his arm around him but without touching him, just as a precautionary measure to prevent his son from falling "I already have a brother, I want a sister now".
Without a doubt, you thought it was quite cute the way he had said it, swaying his little body from side to side with those bright little eyes, but you couldn't help but to look up at the smiling father, looking for an answer "Do you have anything to do with this, love?" And Wooyoung shoke his head, not stopping smiling even for a second "It's all Y/S/N idea. But I also think that it's time to have a girl, babe".
And, to say the truth, the idea of having a girl was quite tempting, even more so when you had been thinking the same thing for a while. Having two children was fantastic as well as exhausting, you were more than sure that having one more could only double the happiness but also the exhaustion. And that was a sacrifice you were willing to do for sure.
"And you? Do you want a sister too?" You asked your second son who you were carrying in your arm, the baby smiling at you the very next moment his big shining eyes met yours which made you smile too "Okay then. Let's see if we can bring you a little sister" You finally said, both your eldest son and your husband screamed with excitement "But you have to know that it may not be a girl but another boy".
"We can always try again, love, don't worry about that" Wooyoung said nonchalantly, winking at you with a big smile to which your son exclaimed an excited "Yes!" Happy with the thought that one way or another he was going to have a little sister "Why did I already expect it..." You shook your head but not in a bad mood, you were also laughing at how predictable Wooyoung and your son were to you.
JONGHO
"Go, go. Ask daddy, my love" Jongho heard you say to your son distantly, you were at the bathroom giving your kid a shower while he was resting on the sofa after having set the table for dinner. Then, the sound of tiny quick steps made him turn off his phone, waiting for his son to appear in front of him just to be surprised by the kid poking his little head out on the side "Hi, baby" Said Jongho, waiting patiently for his son to tell him whatever he had to tell him "I want a brother!".
One, two, three blinks from the surprised father. Not even a hi. His son went straight to the point. The child was certainly clear about his priorities.
Well, such a question demanded seriousness so Jongho leaned closer to the armrest to close distance with his son, resting one arm and intertwining his hands "Daddy and mommy have to talk about it first but tell me, why you want a sibling?".
He had heard multiple reasons why a child might want a sibling. Some quite cute, some quite funny, and with the witty answers your son had for everything, Jongho was especially curious about this one. What a surprise he got when he heard your little boy say "All my friends are from the school or the park, if I have a sibling I will have a friend at home too!".
It was certainly something totally unexpected for Jongho. Although the thought of his son indirectly telling him that he felt lonely at home worried him for a moment, the sight of the smiling kid quickly dispelled all those worries. His little boy just wanted a playmate at home like he had at school and in the park.
"Fine. We'll see if we give you a sibling, okay?" Your son nodded enthusiastically at his father before going to the dining table, leaving both Jongho and you alone in the living room "That was a maybe for a second baby?" You asked him with something like hope shining in your eyes and that was when Jongho remembered hearing you say how much you wanted a second child when you were on the phone, talking to a friend.
If both his son and wife wanted to expand the family, he only could please them so, standing up from his seat, Jongho approached you, stopping in front of you with both hands in the pockets of his trousers "We'll see. We can try as many times as you want but I don't control biology, jagi" and he left you there with a blush on your cheeks, clearly having taken the hint in his words, going to the dining table too with a big smile on his lips.
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twstfanblog · 1 day ago
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hey, if your requests are open, could you write hcs for the dorm leaders with a reader who has generally long hair suddenly appearing with a short haircut? and maybe your own personal hcs if they’re more into long or short hair, maybe… really like your blog btw! :) keep up with the good writing 🫶
Boys react to a Haircut
Housewardens x Reader
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Riddle
Did a double take.
Homeboy was stunned but complimented the new look. Riddle doesn't really care if your hair is long or short, so long as it's professional and neat in public settings.
He liked your long hair, but the short hair is just as nice. He will say he finds your shorter hair cuter than when it was long. But he said your long was beautiful. It's different.
Leona
Annoyed but would never say it.
Hair is a thing of personal expression. If it's not on your head, you don't get an opinion. Personally, though, he finds long hair to be more attractive than short. He just likes having things to play and tug on
He'll pout and huff at the change but he isn't going to tell you that. The short hair will grow on him. Just let him play with it while cuddling and he'll start liking it.
Azul
At first, assumed that something had happened that caused you to cut your hair. Once sure you did it by choice he compliments the new look.
I think he'd like long hair because that was the beauty standard in the sea. The haircut kind of upset him, but he wasn't going to bring it up
Azul's love language to me is gift-giving. And at the start of your relationship, he'd gift you a lot of hair accessories since that was common practice in the sea. So he'd be a bit pouty at the decrease of you wearing the combs and clips since your hair is much shorter now.
Kalim
Whined and cried a bit.
It's my own personal headcanon that Kalim WANTS long hair but it was deemed dangerous since it made him easier to grab. So he lived vicariously through you and Jamil for all his long hair wants and dreams.
Pouts for the longest time, but then he starts realizing it makes kissing you on the neck a lot easier.
Vil
What have you DONE!?
Feels partly responsible for the "hack job". He had made a comment on you having a issue with split ends, offering to trim your hair at a later date to fix them. Only for you to show up with nearly all of your hair gone.
He's more so pouting because he had couples outfits planned for your long hair. He thinks you look amazing with your short hair, but the outfit silhouette changes with short hair and its no longer working in his mind.
Idia
(Like this fucker would notice)
Jokes. But I dont think he'd really care about the haircut and not bring it up unless you do. Idia does think your short hair is really cute though
Personal headcanon is that while Idia CAN cut his hair, because of the magical properties of it, it's a long and annoying process to do. So he's happy you have th much easier option to cut your hair as you please. He just thinks you're cute no matter what alt you pick.
Malleus
A little surprised, but does compliment your new hairstyle.
Personal headcanon that haircutting in the valley is a weird thing. Like, routine trims are common but cutting off a large portion is a life-stage declaration. Like when he and Lilia cut their hair to attend NRC.
He isn't sure if he likes long or short hair more. While longer hair is what he's used to, shorter hair has a charm to it he can't place. So long as he can still run his fingers through your hair, he's fine with whatever style you choose.
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lilylushes · 2 days ago
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Luigi x Pregnant Reader Headcanons
-Your sex life with Luigi had always been active, but once you two decided to see what happens in terms of getting pregnant, he got baby fever BAD and it turned into a whole baby making season for him. 
-You had sex almost every day before, but now it was constantly - on the countertop, in the shower, in the pool/ocean, etc. Even when you were tired, he’d happily make love to you with gentle strokes, humming how much he loved you and wanted a baby. He’d also lay on the praise even more during baby making season. “Mmm, going to give you a baby, beautiful.” “So good for me, taking all my cum, my good girl.” 
-He was SO excited when you both found out. The two of you both suspected you might be pregnant, so you took a test and decided to look at it at the same time. When you flipped it over and the two lines were clear as day, he was elated. He hugged you so tightly and even though he’s not an overly emotional guy, he cried tears of joy, and gave you so much praise. “You’re going to be the best mother.” “I love you.” “I can’t wait to do this with you.” Oh, and he’s thinking about how hot you’ll look pregnant.
-He immediately ordered a shit ton of books about pregnancy, fatherhood, babies, and everything.
-He thinks about different names all the time, too. He’d ask, “baby, what do you think of x as a name?”
-He goes to literally every appointment, ultrasound, and signs you up for a birthing class.
-NEEDS to find out the gender because he can’t not know. You’d do a little private thing, just the two of you. I picture one of those ones on the beach with a little cake and the wine glasses. No matter what you’d have, his reaction would be so precious. More hugs and tears, probably.
-He’s also kinda panicking because now he’s gonna be a literal father in charge of keeping another human alive. He is reading the books that he ordered religiously. He worries deep down that he’s not cut out to be a father.
-He proudly assembles all of the nursery furniture and makes sure it’s all safe.
-He takes up crocheting/knitting so that he can make socks, hats, a blanket, etc. for the baby. He goes kinda crazy with it, lol.
-He just wants to be a part of it all in any way that he can. He reads up on what you’re experiencing, is always asking how you’re feeling, wants to make sure you take all the vitamins you need, and takes part in your birthing class to ensure that he’ll be a supportive partner.
-He talks to your baby at night. “You have the best mom. She’s so pretty and so smart, you’ll see. You’re giving her kind of a hard time, though. It’s hard for her to sleep. Just keep still in there for a few hours, hm?”
-He is always encouraging you to try things out to make everything more comfortable for you, especially at the end.
-He talks about what the baby will look like and be like. You both agree on your eyes with his smile. You two take the opportunity to look at your own baby pictures. He’s a bit embarrassed at his, but he can’t get over how cute you were.
-Pregnancy sex, especially towards the end, is wild and constant. “I know you’re uncomfortable, baby. I read how we can induce labour, wanna give it a try?”
-He totally panics when you go into labour. He did pack your hospital bags long ago, but he gets all blushing and flustered.
-While you’re in labour, he gives you distance when you need it and is nearby when you need it.
-When your baby is born, he’d be crying so hard. Between your baby being here and how proud he is of you for going through labour, he’d be extremely emotional.
-He can’t believe how tiny the baby is, being totally in awe of their little hands and feet. He’s just in disbelief that you two made this sweet little baby.
-Afterwards, when you’re holding the baby, he says, “thank you for giving me him/her.”
-Even though he’s running on no sleep, he’d watch you sleep afterwards and come over to kiss your cheeks and forehead.
-He’s so proud to bring your visitors in. He’d by hyping you up to them, like, “she did such a good job, I’m so proud of her. She was so strong the whole time.”
-When you’re leaving the hospital, he’s beaming with pride to be able to look beside him and see you and your baby. 
-When you’re in the car, he’d look in the mirror at you and your baby in the backseat, and say, “There’s nobody else I’d rather do this with, y/n. love you, baby.”
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myuuchii · 2 days ago
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this is stupid and poorly made but its self indulgent and i couldnt just draw a comic for this so idk my headcanon is that darius pulled some strings to get willow (and gus) on hunters mission in an official team kind of way for kings tide thats it
I think in canon, Hunter says they insisted on coming with him - so they weren't supposed to be there in the first place.
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takes1 · 3 days ago
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Kuroo x Middle Blocker Reader? They’re both in Nekoma and their teams somehow someway play against each other in a training camp. The match was basically reader vs Kuroo whenever they were both in play, the tension is particularly heated in not a sportsmanship-banter way, some phrases are thrown back and forth; “keep your form steady pretty girl.” He’d whisper after they both land on their feet which leaves her to scold him for ‘seemingly’ nothing since only she heard it. After the match he’d tap back into an actual boyfriend and help her tape her fingers which were injured from blocking him.
(btw i read ur Matsukawa writing and got HOOKED 😋)
kuroo teasing tall!reader during a match
hey! thanks for the req, this was fun! featuring my fav headcanon: kuroo can throw his voice rlly well, which is why nobody on the team realized it was him whistling
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warnings. none? minors still DNI
details. fem!reader / fluffy-esque fic / middle blocker!reader / flirty!kuroo / kuroo loves to tease / kuroo loves blockers / tall!reader / secretly sweet!kuroo / questionable intentions / hand thirst / hand holding / training camp setting / coach nekomata for the girls / 2k words
links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my imagines. requests open.
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"Yo. 11."
A voice prodded your attention from the other side of the net. When you looked from your dispersing huddle to look at the guys' team, you realized it was the weirdo whose 'delayed spike' you clocked.
"You on scholarship?"
You turned your nose up at him. Something about his face pissed you off. The way he asked, with that unnecessary smirk and wandering eyes, made it feel like he wasn't really curious.
The answer was yes, but that wasn't his business.
With such an intelligent face, he would probably be able to use that information to win this stupid practice game. Your team's blockers were stronger. Both Nekoma teams were comparable on defense, so it was a game that could stand to be won with effective shutdowns.
You scowled and rolled your eyes.
"Why? You need some money?"
More than enough to express that you weren't interested in mind games.
This training camp was not your cup of tea. It made you irritable with every team you had to keep playing, the later the day went on, and the higher the sun rose in the sky.
The game now was the last of the day, and a spur-of-the-moment decision, at that. Most other schools called it early to get some rest before the last day of matches, but Nekoma was still steaming up the westmost gym, grinding away.
Your only saving grace was the frequency that you were switched out with your libero. Every second off the court was heaven to your aching legs, your clicky wrists, and sore fingers.
The assumption that the harassment would end just because you were subbed out became a distant dream.
He was also getting subbed with their libero. He stood ten feet away and didn't cross the court line.
"Psst."
You stared forward at the game, arms crossed. It hurt your fingers, just a little, so you winced and adjusted your hands so you could rest your arms more comfortably.
He shouted, "Elevennn."
It was so silly, his tactic of trying to break your focus, that you struggled to keep a chuckle down. He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell louder, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to not smile.
"If you need someone to tape you up, give me a shout, okay?"
You finally glanced at him. It was a sweet offer, especially because you were shit at taping and didn't trust the other girls to not break your fingers.
Still, he seemed like the kind of guy to flirt with every girl he thought was hot enough. He was too pretty. Too friendly.
Your speculative attitude towards him ended up as a blessing in disguise. Every play that lined you up with him was technical and difficult-- you weren't sure if it was your perception, his angle of changing to accommodate your read blocks, or if he was still trying to get in your head.
#1 acknowledged you after every play.
It ranged from stare-downs, to somewhat-predictable snarky comments, to genuinely inappropriate flirting.
"Form breakin' down, baby? You tired?"
Was he messing with you? Or was he actually interested?
"Don't talk to me."
What should have been a discouraged frown was -to your chagrin- a shit-eating smirk. This version of 'breaking the other team's blockers' felt too targeted. You could practically feel the burn of his stare through the net, through your jersey, through the odds.
"What's with 1?" You quizzed your team captain, with almost no time off of the court, and took down a quick swallow of water, "Is- he always so fucked in the head?"
"Kuroo?"
She cackled. Cackled so hard, in fact, and you didn't even need her answer, but she gave it anyway in a dismissive sigh.
"Ohh, yeah."
The primary rationale you held going into the last set was that, maybe if you could take the feeling of being special out of your mix of emotions, it would callous your attitude towards him.
Your serve wasn't the strongest on your team. It was certainly the weakest in your inventory of skills, so this hope was the only one you had, up to start the first play.
An insecurity, very small, but nagging like a fly in the back of your head, was that he might try to heckle while the spotlight was already beaming down on you. Your routine wasn't compromised for the first 10 seconds. Being left alone was starting to become a reality.
Your hand flew to make contact with the ball. You could feel it was a good one.
A strong, intelligently-timed, wolf-whistle made you flinch at the last second and hit the ball at an angle. It flew to left, just out of bounds at the back of the opposite court.
You weren't the only one pissed off at that. Many girls on your team shouted to your defense, but nobody stepped up to confess, nor apologize. Coach Nekomata wore a deep-set expression of displeasure but said nothing.
You knew exactly who it was. He was in the back row, but a huge presence, nonetheless.
"Lock it up, guys! Keep it professional!"
Kuroo clapped, feigning a pretty convincing concern at his impolite team.
It was like a humiliation ritual having to serve again. Your hesitation, the breath you took to gather yourself, must have looked just as sad as it felt, because the encouragement from your team rang more as pity, than anything.
You didn't try to do any tricks. You just barely bumped it into play and stepped to the back, thankful for something simple.
The rest of the volley was just as hard-fought. The ball refused touch the ground for so long that both sides were secretly hoping somebody, anybody, on either team, would just fuck up, already.
The guys' team took a free ball well and set up a strong attack.
Kuroo was open- you were so tired that you read him, only him, and got lucky when the set flew to his hand when you were in a good spot for a 1-1 block.
His swing, the ball hitting the floor, the deafening slam, the end of your jump in a clumsy landing was all so fast that you didn't fully register any one part before the next was starting. You slipped, hit the ground, and landed on your side briefly.
You scrambled up, a habit. Head swinging around where it landed, you were trying to see who caught it-- but your teammates were cheering, and nobody looked ready to receive.
The whistle blew. Your team won the set.
"Nice one!!"
"Let's fucking go!!"
"Ughhh-hhh," You collapsed onto the floor and left it up to your team to peel you up.
The guys not only needed to do their losing lap of diving drills, but thanks to that stunt Kuroo decided to pull, Coach Nekomata made it three laps.
Your captain informed you that he was going to have them do just one extra if the guilty confessed, but 'whoever it was' decided to keep it to himself and earned another. You figured Kuroo might take that one to the grave.
Your team's comments were well-timed as the guys squeaked and slid and grunted past you.
"Serves them right."
"Filthy animals."
All of them were soaked in sweat and, despite how comical it was, you felt like the penalty was excessive. Group punishment, in cases like these, was mostly just sad to watch.
After your team finished their cooldowns and began filing out to head to the lodge, you remained to speak to the athletic trainer about the throbbing in your hands.
"Mm. Looks like a sprain, thankfully."
The word sprain scared you, but you tried to not let it show.
"But-- you should keep pressure off of it. Try to keep it still and tape, if you can."
It was automatic, thinking back to Kuroo's little invitation.
Their team stayed to clean up, and you glanced over to Kuroo helping sweep. They all looked so bummed and tired. There was no way in hell he had been honest, even then; and now, after that much extra work, you were certain that he wanted nothing to do with you.
Now that the sun was setting, stepping outside was less egregious to the senses. No more blinding white light, no piercing heat. Just the mellow buzz of cicadas and a fresh summer scent.
You got to leave your stress at the door. In your doing so, the question lingered: Why did it matter so much what he thought of you? Why did you want to know the truth so bad?
"Hey-!" Kuroo's voice was at first so rushed that he startled you. He self-corrected to a shell of his smooth, sweet-talking type of tone: "Hey,"
Your giggle underneath your palm made him blush. He was incredibly uncool if he wasn't trying.
You mocked him: "Hey."
The way he grinned, and how he hung, a little embarrassed, on the entrance to the gym was sweet.
"I'm sorry about messing with you so much, especially- uh,"
He was struggling to articulate, so you quickly eased the situation. He had paid enough for his irritating habits.
You shifted your weight and crossed your arms again with a shrug, "It's fine! You were just trying to get to me. It's a good tactic, I'm used to it."
Once again, it was not a sustainable way to hold yourself- you winced at the pain in your fingers and shook your wrists out once more.
Kuroo wore the first genuine face of concern you had yet to see on him. It made you regret the mistake to cross your arms.
He jerked a thumb back inside, "I saw you talking to the trainer. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah--,"
"Do you-," He smiled, once again, much sweeter than before, when he realized he was repeating himself, "-Need me to tape you up?"
Your, "Um," was loaded with indecision.
The painful and arduous process of having to sit through your teammates taping you down was a brief and agonizing flash before your eyes.
He was in the middle of telling you to not feel pressured to say yes, when you nodded.
"Yeah, let's do it."
After he left for a moment to grab the roll of tape from his bag, you sat on the elevated platform that made up the doorway to the gym. He settled next to you with a tired groan.
"Ooh-kay, let's seee-,"
His concentration on your hand was precise, and studied, with very clear intention to not hurt you.
You shifted closer.
He would use his teeth to pull the tape taut, one hand always busy, gently supporting yours. You watched his face. He watched your shaky fingers.
His eyelashes were long and dark. It made him look more pretty -instead of handsome- from this distance. That messy 'bedhead' hair was slicked back with sweat, aside from some rebellious strays at his hairline. He smelled like work, with a very recent, last-minute spray of deodorant.
Between these longer inspections of his features, you would glance to the growing shadows outside as the sun sank lower in the sky. He looked so lovely in the warm, fleeting, orange glow.
As he turned your hand over, you realized you had been wrong in your assumptions about his personal character. Kuroo was a sweetheart.
He was also really good at taping hands. He finished with your first hand and was halfway through the second, pace quicker, because this closer one was resting in his lap, and he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.
Long, nimble fingers were finishing up. You looked down and grew hot and tingly at the sight of your hand in his lap.
"That feel okay?" He asked softly.
You nodded and gave an instant 'yes' before you even checked.
"Did'ya see what I did?"
Your blush grew out of embarrassment. You lied, poorly, "Um- yeah."
Kuroo laughed. You realized you needed to take your hand back, so you held them out in front of your face and wiggled to check the support. It did feel okay.
"Well, before your next game, try to do it like that," He reached out to pinch your knuckles between his fingertips, and brought your somewhat-connected hands back down between you. It was a motion that was incredibly vague in nature, so you didn't know how to feel about it, "Or- y'know, come and find me. I'd love to help."
His tape was nicer than yours. You wouldn't be able to replicate it just by staring at the finished product.
"I think I'll come and find you," You decided.
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☆VIP☆
@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco
my masterlist. more haikyuu. (new) my imagines.
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 22 hours ago
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@zepskies
Okay I'm here and I am ready for the finale of this wonderful series!
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“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes. “Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.
I like this line, because it's what made Dean stop. In my head I feel like this version of Dean has pushed away so many people and the reader is the first person in a long time to genuinely say that she was "worried" about him, and it strikes something in his chest because he couldn't remember the last time it happened. That's the headcanon in my head anyway lol.
Also the spice was.... 😱🌶️🔥. I literally cannot write smut to save my life, but you always write it so well! I also liked that you didn't do it as intense as omegaverse usually is, because we both know how it can be 👀
“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?” You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?” “For me to let you go,” he says. 
OH MY WORD DEAN SHUT UP! I promise it's okay! She loves you and she can see that you're not a bad person because you literally have been nursing her back to health with her broken ankle 😭 Not to mention you guys are fated! She's not going to let you go no matter what you do.
But again... on brand for Dean to hate himself and to think he's not good enough -sigh- just means that you get to spend more time wrapped up with him trying to convince him 😊😉. I also believe that Dean loves intimac, that he does crave that connection with someone, not to mention I still love what you do in your Midnight Espresso series with Dean being a little touch starved for non-sexual touch. I feel like you've also implied this here and it is marvelous!
His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling.  You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention.  “You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 
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“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?” “She. She’s a she.” “Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?” Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 
I'm literally cackling. I can hear Dean saying this to his significant other. Meeting Baby for the first time holds the same place in his heart as meeting Sam for the first time 🤣 ALSO, I wasn't ready for the palm kiss. Palm kisses and forehead kisses DESTROY me.
I like that this was an alternate ending to the dumpster fire that was the end of Supernatural. That it's Dean and his girl out on the open road listening to a Led Zeppelin song holding hands in the front seat of Baby was just beautiful in the best way and a perfect ending to this mini-series my wonderful friend!! I am going to miss this couple so much, but it really was a fitting end for them 🥰
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Against the Wind - Part 4
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Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 
Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.
AN: The grand finale...
Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger
Word Count: 3.4K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.
Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
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Part 4: Running to Live
His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.
Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.
A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.
You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.
“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.
You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.
“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.
“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.
Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.
Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.
“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”
You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.
“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.
“Touch me,” you breathe.
Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.
“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.
You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.
“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.
Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.
With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.
Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.
Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.
He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”
“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.
He snorts. “That too.”
You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…
His heart pounds in his chest.
“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.
The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.
Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.
His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.
You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.
He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.
He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.
He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.
“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”
“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”
No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 
Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.
“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.
You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”
He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.
Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.
“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”
Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.
Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 
“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”
Once again, he hears you.
His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.
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 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 
While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.
Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 
When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.
“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”
You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”
“For me to let you go,” he says. 
His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?
“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”
Dean remains quiet.
“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”
He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.
“You don’t know me that well,�� is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 
You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”
A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.
Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.
“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 
He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 
There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 
You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 
You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.
“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”
You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”
“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”
His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 
You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 
“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 
Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 
“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 
So you tell him. 
You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 
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It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 
Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 
You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 
When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 
He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 
He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 
“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”
“She. She’s a she.”
“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”
Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 
You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 
“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”
Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 
Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 
“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 
“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”
You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 
“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.
Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”
You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 
“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”
After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 
Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”
You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 
He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.
“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 
“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 
He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.
Damn, this man is old school. 
He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 
Made up my mind to make a new start.
Going to California with an aching in my heart…
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AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!
Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~
But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜
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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago
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Listen I’m going insane from how you write Stan and been rereading your spicy chatting headcanons and…. Am I too greedy if I’ll ask for sex call with him?? 🥲
when the pervy old man meets his match
tags: smut, nsfw, fem reader, phone sex, competitive dirty talk, established relationship, reader is just as much of a menace as Stan
hey honey thank you so much! here it is! it's honestly just full of dialogues lmao. sorry i wrote this in a depraved frenzy and did not look back. if there are mistakes, pretend you don’t see them. if it’s too filthy, no it’s not<3 mb I'll correct it later
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your phone rings and it's midnight. a little devilish smile appears on your lips. you know exactly who it is.
“finally,” you purr, picking up. “was wondering how long it’d take for you to crack, old man.”
“tch. crack?” Stan scoffs. “sweetheart, i was givin' you a chance to call first. figured you’d get too desperate to wait.”
you smirk, rolling onto your back. ”oh, is that what you think?”
“i know it.” he laughs. “ain’t had my hands on ya in three whole days. bet you’re losin’ your goddamn mind over it.”
cocky bastard.
“hmm,” you hum in amusement. “who said i haven’t had my hands on myself instead?”
“heh, sure, doll, then you just laid there all frustrated, wishin’ it was me instead of your hand.”
“oh, no, Stan,” you interrupt innocently. “i came.” he stops breathing. “mm, and it felt so good, too, made such a mess. you would’ve loved it.”
Stanley goes silent. oh, you’ve got him now. “. . . the fuck’d you just say?”
you stretch out on the bed, imagining the look on his face. jaw tight. eyes dark. grip white-knuckling his phone.
“you heard me,” you coo. “been keeping myself nice and satisfied while you’re gone.”
a lie. a blatant, filthy lie. of course you want him. but you won’t say that. not yet.
“what’s the matter?” you murmur, teasing. “dont tell me. . . you jealous of my fingers?”
Stan lets out a harsh breath. “yeah, actually,” he growls. “bet they don’t even get the job done right and you still finish all needy and desperate, just wishin’ it was my cock instead.”
fuck. your breath hitches slightly, so tiny, but Stan hears it.
“. . . ohhh, that gotcha, huh?” his voice dips, turning low. “ya can play all confident, sweetheart, act like ya ain’t fuckin’ sufferin’ without me, like ya ain’t practically drippin’ just hearin’ my voice—“
you swallow. hard. your smile fades from your confident face
“but we both know the truth, don’t we?”
no, you don't give up. “you sound real worked up, Stanley. do you need me to take care of it for you?”
a sharp inhale from the other end. “heh,” he grits out. “you wish.”
“yeah, sounds like you’re getting all hot and bothered over there. you’re already touching yourself, huh? couldn’t help it?”
“hah,” Stan scoffs, but his voice sounds weaker now. oh, you’re winning.
“c’mon, baby,” you whisper in a honey-sweet voice. “tell me. are you hard?”
he exhales through his teeth. “maybe.”
“aw, poor Stanley, been away from me too long, huh? you must be so worked up, all desperate and aching. . .”
Stan grins. “sweetheart, i’m a grown-ass man. i ain’t desperate for anything.”
you pause long enough to make his skin prickle. then softly and slowly you say quietly “so you’re not hard right now?”
fuck. his body betrays him instantly. because, obviously he is. painfully so. has been since the second he heard your voice, if he’s being honest. but like hell is he gonna admit that to you.
“nah,” he lies too quickly.
you giggle. “liar.”
“shut up,” he mutters.
“sorry, Stanley, i cant shut up, thinking about how i’d drop to my knees for you, pull your pants down real slow, press my tongue right up against that thick cock and—”
“oh, for fuck’s sake—“
“you’d be so sensitive, all needy and throbbing for me. i could get you begging in five minutes.”
“like hell you could!”
your laugh is pure evil. “oh, really?” Stan knows that tone, he’s in trouble. “wanna prove it, old man?”
Stan grits his teeth. “you little minx,” he growls. “fine. you wanna play? we play. wanna know what i think?” your stomach tightens, you're so not ready to hear that. but it's so damn sexy when he gets like that. “i know you’re sittin’ there all wet and needy, waitin’ for me to take over.”
your breath catches as your fingers start moving faster.
“aww, see? can hear it in your breath, baby. you love lettin’ me take control, huh? love bein’ my little plaything?”
you grip the sheets.
“y’think about my cock, huh?” that bastard teases. ”you ache for it and dream about me splittin’ you open, fuckin’ you deep ‘til you cry.”
your thighs press together as you try to bring yourself to orgasm while he talks.
“tell me, baby, what’s your favorite way for me to fuck ya?”
you stop for a second, breathing. “. . .i dunno, you tell me.”
Stan groans and laughs. “that’s what i thought. you like it every way i give it to ya. you like gettin’ thrown around, pinned down, bent over. like when i take my time, when i tease, when i make you beg for it. like when i spread your legs and fuck ya slow, so deep your little cunt flutters around me, just tryin’ to suck me in.”
you let out a quiet sob, rubbing your clit harder. shit. okay. he came prepared.
“remember the last time i had ya?” fuck. he's dirty for this. “spread ya out on the kitchen table, pushed those pretty little legs open, had ya beggin' for my cock while i just tapped it against that messy little cunt.”
heat spikes through your belly. your brain melting
“and you were so fuckin’ wet, so messy for me. couldn't even hold still. had to pin ya down, keep ya in place, make ya take it nice and deep. and god, the way ya screamed when i finally gave it to ya,” he groans, pumping his twitching cock. “cried so pretty for me, took every single inch like a good fuckin’ girl.”
you exhale.
“aw, babyy,” Stan mocks. “gettin’ all squirmy over there? miss me poundin’ that tight little cunt open? miss feelin’ my cock knockin’ up against your cervix?”
oh, this bastard. he knows exactly what he’s doing. knows how to talk you into a goddamn frenzy, how to drag you through every memory, making you feel it all over again. but you won’t let him win.
“eh, big talk for a man who passed out immediately after a blowjob.”
Stan huffs.
“it's just,” you muse. “i think i might need to find someone who can actually keep up with me.”
“sweetheart,” he growls. “don't fuckin' start with me.”
you grin. “what, old man? afraid someone else could fuck me better?”
“honestly, you're such a fucking brat.” he mutters resentfully.
“and you're all alone, jerking off to the thought of me like some pathetic old pervert.”
Stan groans and that sound makes you clench around nothing.
“hehe, you stroking it, old man? pumping that fat cock real slow, thinkin’ about how tight my pussy is?”
his eyes widen. wow. . . you're too brave today. he likes that. “sweet moses,” you hear him groaning.
“tell me, baby, am i right? it's throbbing? just begging to be buried inside me?”
“fuckin’ hell,” Stan hisses. “fuck, f-fuck, shit. . .”
wide cocky smile appears on your face. oh you love this. love how you can hear the tension in his breath, imagining how he’s gripping himself too tight, trying to hold on, trying not to lose.
but he’s gonna. he’s so gonna.
“y’know what i was thinking about earlier?” you murmur.
Stan swallows. “wh-what?”
you grin. “how deep you get when you fuck me.” Stan's response is low whimper when he circles his leaking tip with his fingers. “no, seriously, you stretch me so wide, Stanley. get all the way up against my cervix, push me down into the mattress, just ruining me. i love hearing your groans when i bite your shoulder.”
his breathing is much heavier now, he's already so close.
“Stanley? you close?“
“y-you’re gonna fuckin’ regret this,” he grits out.
“what’s wrong, old man? you were all big and bad a second ago. now ya can’t even keep up? i know how bad you want it, how much you miss the way i take you so deep, so tight”
Stanley is so fucking close.
“you’re leaking, huh? and you’re still trying to hold back,” another mocking sympathy from you. “so stubborn, determined not to let me win. guess i’ll just have to break you, then. oh yeah,” you laugh when you hear another moan from him. “that gotcha, huh? i know you’d love that, you’d love me getting on top, riding you all slow and deep, keeping you right on the edge ‘till you’re begging me for it, begging me to let you cum inside of me.”
“f-fuck, baby, just. . . just like that,” his voice is shaking.
“you gonna cum, Stan? gonna make a mess all over yourself just from hearing my voice?”
“you—fuck—you little—”
suddenly his phone vibrates with a notification. you just sent him a photo.
he barely has time to open it before he sees you, spread out as you fuck yourself open on your fingers.
Stan sucks in a sharp breath. “what. . . the fuck”
“somethin’ wrong?” you coo.
silence, hes silent until you hear choked loud “oh oh oh, fuckkk” and you know he lost, so fucking hard. his orgasm hits hard, violent, brain-melting, his body tensing, groaning your name through gritted teeth. you hear the sharp inhale, the shaky breath, the low, drawn-out moan as he spills messy over his fist.
“awww, couldn’t hold out, huh?”
Stan pants, breathless. “fuck you.”
“you wish,” you smirk, giggling.
“okay okay. you won.” Stanley admits, rubbing his sweaty forehead. “you won, baby.”
“but you put up a good fight, old man!”
he groans. “hot belgian waffles, what the hell am i gonna do with you?”
“maybe bend me over the second you get home and teach me a lesson?”
Stan chuckles. “oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you just signed up for.”
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k1ng-ej · 3 days ago
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Can you dooooo
Reader coming on there cycle in bed and the slasher thinks there bleeding out or smtn until they explain it to them?
Allll fluff, you could do headcanons or a specific slasher if you want
Slashers reaction to you starting your period
(Michael, Thomas, Vincent)
Note: excuse this if this a little sloppy, i planned on doing a few other slashers but then i didnt feel like it lol. mental exhaustion is real! anyway, i hope you enjoy <33
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Michael
It was a rare night where Michael was sleeping in your bed, he usually doesn't sleep at all or chooses to sleep in the guest room or on the couch in the living room. You don't know why he did that, but you never forced him to come and sleep in your bed, not wanting to overstep boundaries. Michael is a complicated man to understand, and you don't want to push his buttons too much.
You nestled against him, your head comfortably resting on his chest as you basked in the warmth he emanated. You appreciated these rare moments with Michael, especially because he kept you warm on the coldest nights. After what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning, you finally climbed out of bed, intending to get a glass of water. Just then, you heard the sound of Michael shifting, turning to face you.
"I'll be right back." You smiled, taking a moment to admire his mask-less face. From where you stood, he looked like just a normal man, his brown curls that laid perfectly on his forehead, the slightest dark bags under his mismatched eyes, and the way he laid in your bed, he didn't look like a man who has tormented your small hometown known as Hadonfield.
Just as you were about to turn around, a strong hand seized your wrist. When you looked back, you saw Michael propped up in bed, staring at you intently. His expression remained blank, but there was purpose in his movements. He drew you closer, lifting your shirt as if searching for something specific. When he couldn't find what he sought, he gently tugged at your shorts.
"What are you doing?" You questioned with a confused chuckle, looking down at yourself. Michael grabbed the bottom of your shorts and pulled them so you could see. You had apparently started your period, you completely forgot to keep an eye for that this week.
"Oh." You figured that was what Michael was looking for, the source of the blood that now stained your favorite pajama shorts.
Michael looked to you, and tilted his head. You figured he was probably never educated about this subject, you wondered how you would explain it to him.
"It's my period, I get it every month. It's normal so there's nothing to worry about." You explained carefully. "I mean, the only thing you'd have to worry about would be my mood swings." You joked with a giggle. Michael only blinked at you, you didn't know if he understood, maybe he didn't care.
Then, he gave you a subtle nod, one you almost missed if you hadn't been staring at him. You assumed he got what you said, so you left it at that.
Thomas
Thomas shook you awake in the middle of the night, his concern evident. Groggy and disoriented, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, mumbling some indistinct words of annoyance.
"What's wrong, Tommy?" You asked as you shivered, noticing how cold it suddenly was. Oh, the blanket had been pulled off.
Thomas pointed to your legs, and you noticed a small blood stain underneath of you. You quickly realized that as your period. Thomas appeared slightly unsettled, leading you to wonder if Luda Mae had ever discussed periods with him. Before you could clarify, he began examining your body for any signs of injury, which made you chuckle. You found his concern adorable.
"Thomas, i'm okay. It's just my period, it's something that females get every month. it's nothing bad." You clarified, a faint smile resting on your lips. Thomas stopped checking your body, giving you a confused look.
"I promise. It doesn't even hurt me. Well… kind of but it's not that serious." You hoped you weren't making Thomas more confused than he already was, but when he stopped furrowing his brows you assumed he understood what you were explaining to him. YA sigh escaped your lips as the reality set in: you needed to change out of your stained pajamas and replace the bedsheet. You longed to have slept in and postponed this chore until morning, yet you couldn't fault Thomas for his concern about your wellbeing. He prepared a swift shower for you to freshen up while he took care of the bedding. Once the chores were done, he made sure you had a restful night, holding you tightly against his chest until the early hours of dawn.
Vincent
You went to bed after Vincent mentioned he would be up a little later, immersed in his work on wax sculptures. This was a frequent situation, even though you often encouraged him to join you, insisting that he needed and deserved the rest. While you wholeheartedly supported Vincent in his pursuits, it always troubled you when he sacrificed sleep for his art.
You had woken up to the sound of shuffling, probably Vincent finally coming to bed. You didn't know what time it was, but you couldn't even be bothered to open your eyes to check. You felt a gentle nudge, Vincent's way of telling you to scoot over so he could get into bed as well. You grumbled before eventually scooting to the other side of the bed, you waited to feel the bed dip, indicating he laid down. But it never came.
Instead, Vincent was shaking you awake, it seemed urgent.
"Hm? Is something wrong Vinc?" You mumbled into the pillow, looking at him through an eye. In the dark, you could barely make out him signing to you.
"What?" You finally moved your face to fully look at him, worried by his seemingly panicked signing.
'You're bleeding. What happened?'
"I'm bleeding? What do you mean?" You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he was talking about. You hadn't been around any sharp objects recently, and you didn't have any old wounds that could be reopened. Vincent then gestured to the bed, you sat up and realized what happened. Where you laid previously had a blood stain on the sheets, you already knew your pants would be stained too.
"Awh… I got my period." You frowned, huffing from your nose. Your least favorite time of the month. You felt bad for staining Vincent's sheets, making a mental promise to yourself that you'd get it out tomorrow morning.
'Period?' He signed, tilting his head. He still seemed worried about you, you could see it in his body language by the way he leaned toward you and slightly reached his hands out to you. You knew he wanted to check you for any wounds, something he did quite often because you were very clumsy and often got scrapes and cuts, which he would patch up for you.
"Yeah, yeah. It's just something girls get every month. I get cramps and whatnot. Sorry for staining your sheets."
'Cramps? Anything else?'
"Uhhh, food cravings, mood swings." You shrugged, starting to scooch off the bed. Vincent took your hand and helped you up, then started leading you toward the bathroom. "Where are we going?"
He didn't respond as he released your hand and knelt beside the bathtub, turning on the water and testing its warmth with his fingers. You had always known Vincent to be thoughtful, consistently showing you kindness and tenderness. However, you never anticipated him starting a bath for you in the middle of the night.
"Oh, Vincent, you didn't have to." You smiled warmly at the gesture, feeling grateful to have a significant other like him.
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 21 hours ago
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@pamwritessometimes
"This sat in my drafts for months..." Then proceeds to write something so utterly TRUE, HONEST, and ON BRAND for falling in love with the frustrating, adorable, lovable, asshole that is Soldier Boy.
I loved every bit of this fic!
He’s a walking contradiction. He can be crude and crass and violent, but his hands that are scarred and calloused from years of supposed war and bloodshed, are so uncharacteristically gentle when they touch you like he’s terrified of breaking something he doesn’t know how to stitch back together. And you love it. You love that you make him hesitate. That you make him stay. "Fuck, you’ve ruined me" he murmurs one night, pressing his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips. “You made me a goddamn pussy.”
I AM MELTING! This is SO good. I love this part because the idea that Ben is a "contradiction" is true when it comes to the reader. I love the headcanon that Ben is violent and angry, but he's soft when it comes to his girl. I do not believe for one second that Ben would ever be violent towards the woman he loves or want to hurt her in any way even when he's angry. And I love a man with rough hands that is only gentle with them when he’s with his girl 😍
And the line "Fuck, you've ruined me" made my soul leave my body. I cannot describe how good it is or how wonderfully it fits him.
You see, Ben isn’t good with words. Not the important ones, anyway. But he’s fluent in actions.
Oh goodness, every single example you listed after this line was perfect for him. Ben giving the reader coffee, Ben watching the reader and paying attention to what the reader likes- YES!
Because we all know that Ben will say the wrong thing at the wrong time, but he will make it up to the woman he loves. AND BEN putting his hand on the reader's hip to remind himself that he does have her in his life:
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Ben’s not stupid.
He's not. And I love that you put this in here, that Ben really isn't a mindless brute, he has a brain, you're so right!
His jokes are always just a little too loud, just a little too offensive, making you cringe even as he smirks, because he knows damn well what he’s doing.
Goodness 🫣 I don't want to think about the jokes, but we all know he has no filter lol.
And despite what everyone says — despite the fact that he probably won’t ever change — you can’t seem to stop yourself from diving headfirst into the madness. Maybe you can’t fix him. But damn if he doesn’t make it worth trying.
YES A MILLION TIMES YES! He's insufferable, but he's worth it. I loved all of this! It was so wonderfully written and so fitting for Soldier Boy. And oh goodness yes, he's also got a choke hold on me as well lol.
Loving Soldier Boy…
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Soldier Boy x reader (drabble)
Summary: Just a short n’ (bitter)sweet drabble about what it’s like to love Ben.
Warnings: language, innuendos (c’mon, it’s Ben), mention of violence
Song inspo: I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) by Taylor Swift.
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Loving Soldier Boy isn’t easy.
You knew Soldier Boy was a handful. Hell, he knows he’s a handful. And you know Ben has never been handled before. Not properly. Not by someone who knows when to push and when to pull, when to hold steady and when to let go.
But you?
You thought you had him figured out.
He’s bad news — at least that’s what everyone keeps telling you.
“That man is not safe” MM says, arms crossed.
“He’s straightdown psychotic” Annie agrees, looking at you like she’s waiting for the spell Ben must have put on you to break.
Hughie just grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you sure about this? Like, really sure?”
Frenchie sighs. “I have seen many dangerous men, mon coeur, but that one?” He shakes his head. “That one is the iceberg that sinks the ship.”
Even Kimiko seems to eye you with pity.
And Butcher — he just tsked.
“That’s a bloody dangerous game you’re about to play, luv.”
But all that didn’t matter.
Not when Ben flashes you that cocky, wolfish grin. Not when he pulls you in with that fiery gaze that makes your pulse stutter. Not when he touches you like you’re the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.
He’s a walking contradiction.
He can be crude and crass and violent, but his hands that are scarred and calloused from years of supposed war and bloodshed, are so uncharacteristically gentle when they touch you like he’s terrified of breaking something he doesn’t know how to stitch back together.
And you love it.
You love that you make him hesitate.
That you make him stay.
"Fuck, you’ve ruined me" he murmurs one night, pressing his forehead to yours, breath warm against your lips. “You made me a goddamn pussy.”
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Loving Soldier Boy is mastering the skill of interpreting nonverbal communication.
You see, Ben isn’t good with words. Not the important ones, anyway.
But he’s fluent in actions.
Like how he always, always keeps a hand on you — your waist, your back, the nape of your neck — like he needs the physical contact to remind himself you’re real and still with him.
Or how, when you’re pissed at him, he won’t apologize outright, but he will fix your coffee just the way you like it, set it down in front of you with a grunt and a pointed look, like There. Happy now?
Or the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you because no matter how much of a dick he is sometimes, the thought of him possibly outliving you haunts him.
He’s an asshole. A menace. A walking disaster.
And yet, when he pulls you into his lap, his fingers threading through your hair, his lips ghosting over yours—
You think maybe he’s worth the trouble.
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Loving Soldier Boy is a delicate art.
It’s catching the flicker of rage in his eyes before he explodes, steering him away from the fire instead of into it.
It’s letting him run his mouth, knowing that half the shit he says is just to get a rise out of people, and the other half—
Well.
“Because it was fucking beeping” he answers when you find bullet holes in your microwave.
Ben’s not stupid.
But when he came back from the dead, or, you know, from 40 years of being locked up, you’re starting to realize… he might not be as up to date as he thinks.
You blink. “Because it was beeping?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, leaning back against the counter like he didn’t just pull some absolute batshit nonsense. “Wouldn’t shut the hell up.”
“That’s… literally its job, Ben.”
“Well, now it’s unemployed.” He smirks. “Like half the people I’ve worked with.
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Loving Soldier Boy is like wrestling with a live grenade.
Violence isn’t just second nature to Ben — it’s first.
He doesn’t do restraint.
Like the time some guy got a little too close to you at a club and ended up with a broken jaw — because Ben doesn’t do warnings either.
Or the time he punched a cop without even thinking about the consequences.
“To be fair, he was being a dick.”
“He was giving you a parking ticket.”
Ben scoffs. “Exactly.”
“Oh my God.”
“What?” He throws his hands up, all mock innocence. “I told him not to touch my car.”
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Loving Soldier Boy is fighting for feminism while actively losing the war.
There’s something infuriating about Ben’s shameless, unapologetic brand of horniness.
His jokes are always just a little too loud, just a little too offensive, making you cringe even as he smirks, because he knows damn well what he’s doing.
And yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.
And he knows it.
No matter how many times you glare at him, no matter how often you mutter “Ben, we are in public”, he sees the way your breath hitches, the way your thighs press together when he leans in too close, and he can practically smell the forming pool in your panties.
“C’mon, sweetheart.” His voice is low, dripping with amusement. “Don’t act like you don’t love it when I talk dirty to you.”
You glare at him. “You literally just told the bartender that I needed something ‘to keep my mouth occupied.’”
Ben grins. “And I stand by that.”
You fight the urge to groan. “You are insufferable.”
He leans in, his lips just barely brushing against your ear. “But you like me insufferable.”
And fuck.
Maybe you do.
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Loving Soldier Boy is realizing you’re the one really losing the fight.
When the team calls you out on his bullshit, you just sit there and listen.
You have no defense.
Because what are you even supposed to say?
He’s trying? (He’s not.)
He didn’t mean to? (He absolutely did.)
He’s a work in progress? (Is he?)
And despite what everyone says — despite the fact that he probably won’t ever change — you can’t seem to stop yourself from diving headfirst into the madness.
Maybe you can’t fix him.
But damn if he doesn’t make it worth trying.
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The chokehold this man has on me is insane — help
Also… This sat in my drafts for months, but I gave it a reread and didn’t completely hate it — so here you go. Hope you enjoyed!🤍
xx Pam
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mylovesstuffs · 1 day ago
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Ot13 and what scares them about love
Request: Hey can u do a headcanon ot13: what scares them about being in love.. or love in general? (Like not being enough, losing control, potential heartbreak… smth like that) thanks a lot:)))
A/N: I added the little bullet notes under each member’s part just in case any of you have similar fears—so that you can be reassured that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Personally, I struggle with the fear of being hard to love. It’s something deeply ingrained in me, though I won’t elaborate further. I just wanted you all to feel a little better. At the end of the day, these notes aren’t really for the members (as if they'll see this lol)—they’re for you. This headcanon (sorta) felt surprisingly personal, and writing it made me reflect on so many things about life and love in general. To the anon who requested this, thank you. Your idea was truly unique, and it gave me a space to pause, think, and see things from a different perspective of svt and others.
This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.
Seungcheol – The Fear of Failing as a Partner
How I see him is that, he carries a deep sense of responsibility, and that extends to love too. His biggest fear is not being able to protect or take care of his partner the way he wants to. He worries about not being emotionally available or strong enough when they need him most. The idea of letting someone down, especially someone he loves, weighs heavily on him.
Seungcheol, you’re doing your absolute best, and that’s more than enough. Your love is a safe space, and no one could ever doubt the strength you bring to those around you.
Jeonghan – The Fear of Losing Himself
Love is beautiful, but it’s also consuming. Jeonghan fears that being in love might make him lose parts of himself—his independence, his ability to make rational choices, or even his sense of control. He’s afraid of how much power someone else could have over his emotions, especially since he’s always the one in control of his own heart.
Love doesn’t mean losing yourself. The right person will embrace all of you, allowing you to be both independent and deeply connected. You don’t have to choose between the two.
Joshua – The Fear of Unreciprocated Effort
I feel like he’s the type to love deeply, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally. But what scares him is the possibility of loving someone more than they love him. He fears investing everything into a relationship, only to find out that his feelings are not returned in the same way. He doesn’t want to be left wondering if he was ever truly enough.
Shua, you are more than enough. Any love you give will be returned in full measure. You’re so kind and caring, and someone who sees you for who you are will love you deeply in return.
Jun – The Fear of Being Misunderstood
Jun is a deep thinker, and his emotions often run slowly beneath the surface. He worries that no matter how much he loves someone, they might never truly understand him. He’s scared of feeling alone in a relationship, of opening up completely and still not being seen for who he truly is.
The right person will understand you in ways you never imagined. Your depth is so precious, and there are people who will cherish every part of who you are.
Hoshi – The Fear of Love Fading
Love, to him, should always be full of passion and excitement. But he fears that over time, feelings might dull, routines might set in, and the relationship could become something ordinary. He wants love to always feel exhilarating, and the thought of it losing its spark terrifies him.
The most beautiful love grows even stronger with time, and the quiet moments are just as powerful as the loud ones.
Wonwoo – The Fear of Not Being Enough
Wonwoo is reserved, and deeply introspective. He worries that he won’t be able to express love in the way his partner needs. He’s afraid that his way of loving through actions rather than words, might not be enough. The idea of someone wanting more than he can give haunts him.
Wonwoo, your love is already enough. The way you care, through your actions and your presence, speaks volumes. Anyone who truly understands you will appreciate the depth of your heart.
Woozi – The Fear of Losing His Dreams for Love
As we all know, he’s very dedicated to his craft and his passion for music runs deep. While he’s capable of deep love, he fears that being in love might take away the time and energy he’s poured into his dreams. He doesn’t want to choose between love and ambition, but he’s afraid that, in the end, one might have to come before the other.
The right person will support and inspire you to keep chasing your passions while loving you in the most meaningful way.
Dokyeom – The Fear of Hurting or Disappointing Someone
Seokmin has such a big heart, and his worst fear is accidentally hurting someone he loves. He always wants to be a source of happiness, but relationships aren’t always perfect, and the thought of being the reason for someone’s pain is unbearable to him.
Kyeom, your heart is pure, and your love only brings joy to those around you. Anyone who is with you will feel lucky to have such a loving and kind soul in their life.
Mingyu – The Fear of Being Too Much
He loves intensely, and sometimes, that can feel overwhelming. Mingyu worries that his enthusiasm, his affection, and his deep emotions might be too much for someone to handle. He’s scared of loving someone with all his heart, only to be told that it’s suffocating.
Gyu :(( your love is perfect just the way it is. No one will ever think you’re too much. You are a warm, bright presence, and the right person will embrace all of that with open arms.
Minghao – The Fear of Losing Freedom
Love is beautiful (2), but Minghao values his independence. He worries about feeling trapped or restricted in a relationship, about losing the ability to chase his own passions freely. He wants to love without feeling like he has to compromise parts of himself.
The right person will love and respect your freedom while still sharing in your journey together.
Seungkwan – The Fear of Heartbreak
He loves hard, and he knows that means he has the most to lose. The thought of giving his whole heart to someone only to have it broken is terrifying. He’s scared of the kind of pain that lingers, the kind that changes a person forever.
Kwannie, your heart is strong enough to handle anything. Love will come with its ups and downs, but your ability to heal and grow will make you even stronger, and you will find a love that never breaks you.
Vernon – The Fear of Not Being Able to Express Himself
Vernon thinks deeply but doesn’t always voice everything he feels. He fears that his inability to always put his emotions into words might make his partner feel unappreciated or uncertain about his love. He doesn’t want to lose someone just because he couldn’t say the right things at the right time.
Anyone who truly cares for you will understand the depth of your feelings, even in silence. You don’t need to explain everything—you show it.
Dino – The Fear of Not Being Taken Seriously
As the youngest in svt, he’s used to being seen as playful and energetic and his partner will also know this persona just like we do. But in love, he wants to be seen as a dependable partner. He fears that no matter how much he matures, there will always be a part of him that people don’t take seriously. He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘kid’ in love—he wants to be seen as someone who can love deeply and be a strong, steady presence in his partner’s life.
Dino, your maturity is not measured by age but by the love you give. Anyone who loves you will see the depth of your heart and appreciate the amazing, steady partner you are.
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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 2 days ago
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Hello, good morning/afternoon/evening/night. I'm the anon that requested for the platonic!dad Lilia vanrouge headcanon. I've finished reading it and I would love to request for the biological one! The adopted headcanon was amazing. And I also apologize for for not putting in my request with more thought 😅.
Thanks for the ask! I can totally do that! And don't worry about it, I was hoping to get to write both anyway <3
(I don't know if I'm thinking too far into it, but I wasn't sure if you wanted pre NRC or present, so I'm going with the same as last time)
!Platonic!Dad! Lilia Vanrouge x Biological Daughter
(Kinda a second part to This in a way)
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However it came to be; a one night stand, a past lover, or some freak magic accident, you were Lilia's one and only blood relative left. His darling daughter.
Don't get me wrong, Lilia loved Silver and Malleus more than anything, but it felt different looking at you and being able to sense his fae blood running through your veins.
When you were left to the single father's care it was after he had already dealt with a newborn dragon. He believe that as you were his own flesh and blood you'd surely be easier to care for, but oh how wrong he was.
If anything, you were MORE difficult to deal with because you were his own flesh and blood.
Lilia finally got a taste of his own medicine when you started imitating his pranks (how did you even get in such a high cabinet).
At least he understands your magic and can help you figure out how to control it.
He treats you virtually the same as if you were his adopted child, just with the fact that you have his magic in mind- . . .he looked away for one second, where'd you go?
One time, Lilia left you and Silver with a pre-teen Malleus for him babysit as he had something to attend to. Silver spent the whole time sleeping whilst you spent the whole time making malleus play games with you (he didn't mind, he was just happy to have a friend). Lillia came back to see you and Malleus reenacting the war with wooden animals Baur had carved for you (maybe he told you too many stories of his glory days).
Lilia still loves doing your hair- what's that? You want to do his hair?
The other generals keep their mouths shut, but their eyes are glued to the great Lilia Vanrouge and his messy, lopsided pigtails with bright pink and blue bows on each for the entire briefing.
You escaped the cottage once when he looked away to try and get Silver to eat his food, and he had no clue where you were for almost a day. He was freaking out and about to take his magearm and go on an all-out rampage when he got a letter from the queen saying you had 'made a delightfully unexpected visit to the castle for a playdate with Malleus.'
Lilia rushed over to the castle immediately, ready to scold you, but when he got there he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he fell to his knees crying as he watched you and Malleus sleep softly: cuddled up to each other. The queen found him in this state and simply patted him on the back before recounting how he and her daughter had once pulled a very similar stunt back in their youth. (he has her recount any and all stories of him causing trouble as a child in order to hopefully have a leg up on any stunts you pull in the future)
Right when he thinks he knows how to handle anything you throw at him, you come home with an owl bear cub in toe asking tow. You recount the story of how you found it next to its unmoving mother, and he has no choice but to let you keep it.
When you tell him you want to name the owl bear 'Bear' he tries to argue with you that it's not a very good name, but you win. Bear it is.
Anytime you and Silver go out in the woods to play he sends Bear with you just in case.
Baur gets quite the shock when he comes to pick up his grandson from the cottage only to find him riding on the back of an owl bear as it chases you and silver (you were just playing tag).
He turns to the cottage to see what Lilia was planning to do about this only to see him casually. . .barbequing (if you can even call it that) in the garden and watching you all play. Baur ends up staying longer than expected, mostly to salvage whatever slop Lilia was making for his poor kids, but also to hear Lilia's explanation as to WHY IN THE GREAT SEVENS' NAMES THERE'S AN OWL BEAR PLAYING WITH THE KIDS.
The time finally comes for Lilia to head off to NRC with Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, but this time let's say (for the sake of being different that the other fic) that you somehow end up there as well. Lilia would have liked you to be in Diasomnia with him, but you instead end up going to Ramshackle with the prefect. This is an all-boys school after all, so the best place for you to be on campus is probably in the dorm with the only other female student. (That and Bear came with you and Ramshackle already has Grim so. . .)
There's no telling what trouble you'll get to in your time staying at NRC, but rest assured that Lilia will be there to help you out (whether that means getting you out of trouble or helping you cause more).
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Twisted Wonderland Masterlist
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Sun : Kaz, Jesper, Nina
Moon : Inej, Wylan, Matthias
#six of crows#soc#crooked kingdom#six of crows headcanons#jesper fahey#inej ghafa#kaz brekker#wylan van eck#nina zenik#matthias helvar#ok for kanej case i think alot of ppl would call both of them moons#but if i were to decide who is sun or moon i would say inej is more preferable to be moon while kaz is sun#in inej case i would say her whole character ideals(?) are more moon vibes to me#like how she “blends with the shadows” or how her footsteps are silent#she has a wise personality and her character just seems so mysterious#yeah sure her personality can be a bit optimistic (?) but i dont think that whole should categorise her as sun#ok so basically i just wanna say inej is more of a moon person than a sun person ok#ok onto kaz#for kaz i think we all know this man is so dramatic#so about the “dirtyhands” ideal#dirtyhands are made to be a monster in ketterdam where everyone oh so fears of him !!#and if childrens were to misbehave parents would tell them that dirtyhands is going to end up under their bed#i feel like kaz ideal is more of a “show off”#like how the sun will shine so bright eveyone will notice#thays the case with kaz#kaz is known as a monster that is known to all of ketterdam#everyone not stupid would be on alert if dirtyhands were to be near them#but yeah thats my case with kaz and why i think he's more of a sun person than moon ‼️#for wesper and helnik i think their too obvious enough 😭😭#provably my first time analyzing 💔 tbh i havent read the soc books in months now so 💔💔 i hope u guys get what i mean by this 🤕
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short-honey-badger · 3 days ago
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Hello!
This is the first time ever that I ask for a writing to a headcanon and it’s exciting. :) I have been eating up your Shamrock/Shanks writings, love them!
There is this idea living in my head that the female reader
a) falls very ill
b) gets poisoned by rivals of the Figarland family
And is then discovered by Shamrock who comes looking for us, wondering why we don’t react to him calling our name.
In both scenarios mentioned, the reader is then lying in bed and very weak, suffering and slipping in and out of consciousness.
Meanwhile, Shamrock deals with guilt, fear and shock about this even happening right under his nose
Shanks of course would be there too, angry with his brother for not looking out enough for Reader
I know this is very angsty (think about that scene from Gone with the Wind where Scarlett fell down the stairs and was ill) and I am not sure if you said anywhere that this isn’t something you would like to write about.
Still, I would love to see what you make of this little snippet. :) Your Shamrock characterization is great 👍
Okay anon. This was probably one of my favorite ones I've done so far so thank you dearly for the wonderful prompt. I hope I have done it justice! ❤️❤️
Watch me Wither
Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader x Figarland Shamrock
Warnings! Not many? Angsty sick fic
Shamrock Masterlist-> HERE
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Shamrock stands vigil over your still form, lips set in a harsh frown. It's been three days, and still your condition has yet to improve. Guilt eats at him, knowing that if he had listened to his brother for once that this wouldn't have happened. That you, their most precious person, would not be lying here still as a corpse. How could he let this happen when he had sworn to you that you would be safe here with him?
When you don't come to his office to share lunch with the leader of the Holy Knights, Shamrock knows that there is something going on. He stands from his desk and leaves his office, booted feet slapping against the stone of his home as he navigates the halls to the room he had set you up in a month ago.
Shanks had argued against you staying in Marie Geoise with Shamrock, seemingly convinced that you would be happier, safer with him and his crew. Shamrock had scoffed and rolled his eyes at his younger twin, lips pursed and arms crossed.
“She will be perfectly fine here with me, safe where no bloody pirates can steal her away when you aren't paying attention.”
Shanks had rolled his eyes but backed down, face set in a scowl as he turned on his heel to go tell you goodbye.
Shamrock knocks on your door, knowing that you value your privacy, but when you didn't answer after several moments, the holy knight turned the handle and strode inside. He stalks forward, scowl on his face as he comes to a stop beside your bed. He can see the lump you make under the blankets and calls your name, but still, there is no response from you. He rolls his eyes and reaches out, pulling the quilt down and freezing when he sees the yellow pallor of your face, your hair weighed down by sweat.
His heart siezed in his chest, eyes going wide as he reached out, on ehand wrapping around your shoulder and shaking you gently, “Darling, my love, please, wake up.”
A wretched groan left your mouth, eyes cracking open just enough that he could see the way your pupils had shrunk, tiny pinpoints surrounded by the dull color of your iris and bloodshot white sclera.
He had jumped into action when you fell back into unconsciousness seconds later, eyes drooping and body going lax in his hold. Shamrock had scooped you up and ran like he had never before, heedless of puting up a front in front of the servants and other members of his household until he made it to the room that their personal healer stayed. He’d woken Jurgan, demanding that the old man examine you, and what he found had made dreaded guilt well up inside the holy knight.
Someone, either an enemy of the Figarland household or one of their enemies, had poisoned you.
Now Shamrock could do nothing but regret his choice in keeping you here. He had called Shanks on the second day that you were admitted into the medical ward, and had sat still and silent as his twin lay into him, furious at Shamrock for allowing this to happen right under his nose. He deserved the dressing down, and it only added to his guilt and fear that because of him, they would never see that shy little grin that was only meant for them, ever again.
Shanks had told him that he would be back as quickly as he could, wanting to be there for his twin and for you if you ever happened to wake for longer periods of time. Shamrock had just quietly agreed, not feeling the need to argue against his younger brother, not when you were in such a delicate position.
You would wake long enough each day that Shamrock for drip water into your mouth, his eyes intent as he watched you slowly consume the liquid before you would drop back off, still too weak to do much but slowly recover. Jurgan had purged your system with a concoction of drugs, but even then, the doctor had informed him that it may not be enough for you to pull through. Only time would tell.
Shamrock didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t make it. You had become an extension of his life, a need that he would happily let consume him if only to receive your soft hands and sweet attitude that you rewarded him and Shanks with. Raging guilt eats at him, knowing that he failed you, that the promise he had made you and Shanks has been broken by being too prideful, too sure in the knowledge that you would be safe in his home.
A low groan gains his attention, and Shamrock cuts his eyes down at you, loping forward to grasp your hand in his own when he sees your hand twitch in his direction. You grip his fingers weakly, and the holy knight kneels by your side, burgundy eyes soft as he reaches out with his other hand to gently card his fingers through your hair. You look pitiful, but it gives him hope that you are beginning to feel better when you crack your eyes open to meet his own.
“Sham?”
Your voice is scratchy with disuse, but Shamrock is just happy to hear your voice. He squeezes your fingers, the hand in your hair smoothing down to cup your cheek, “I’m here, darling.”
Shamrock doesn’t know what to do or how he could make you feel better other than just by being at your side. His father had huffed and sneered, telling his older son that he needed to get over this, and get back to his duties, but the redhead found that he was always pulled back to your side, unable to be away from you for too long.
“Red?” You rasp quietly and frown when Shamrock shakes his head.
“Shanks is on his way, my love,” he murmurs, and the knowledge that the other twin was on the way seems to settle you, face smoothing out into something peaceful. He watches you for a while longer until your hand goes slack and you seem to slip back to sleep. Shamrock sighs and carefully disentangles his hand from yours and stands. He knows that you are unlikely to wake again in the next couple of hours, so as much as it pains him to leave your side, Shamrock does. He must before his father comes to collect him.
The next several days passed the same way, Shamrock would come and stay by your side, the guilt inside him eating away at him as he stared at your pale form resting under warm blankets. He would hold your hand, a silent sentinel. He seethed and raged inside his mind, furious that he was no closer to finding out the culprit behind your poisoning. He watched you wither further every day, and it killed him on the inside little by little.
Shanks arrived on the seventh day, running through the halls of a home he held no fond memories of. He ignored the sneers that were directed at him, not caring that the household thought of him as lesser just because he refused to bow to their whims. He found his twin sitting beside you in the medical ward, the other redhead looking worse than Shanks has ever seen his older brother.
“How is she?” He asks as he shuts the door behind him. He comes and stands at his twin's side, eyes wide as he stares down at you. He wanted to touch, to feel you, to make sure that you were still holding on, but he was terrified of making your condition worse.
“Better,” Shamrock murmured, voice rough from disuse. He watched his younger brother, seeing the look of fear etched on the face that looked so much like his own, and felt that same remorse well up. He drops his eyes quickly, averting them back to where you lay, “Jurgan says that she will recover, but the poison did a number on her internal organs. She will never be as strong as she once was.”
Shanks grits his teeth, his anger at his brother coming back with a vengeance. He doesn't bother looking at the other man, but his voice is tense and full of displeasure, “I told you that she wouldn't be safe here. You should have known better than to keep the one weakness you have so close. Her staying here was doomed from the start, Sham.”
Shamrock grits his teeth, shoulders hunching. He knows that Shanks is right, having already berated himself mentally more than his brother ever could.
“So you've already said last time we spoke,” He murmurs, and thankfully, Shanks doesn't say anything else about his failings. The two sit in silence, both content to watch your chest move up and down in your sleep. It isn't until there is a catch in your breath that they snap to attention.
Your brow furrows, and soft sound leaves you. You shift on the bed, arm snaking out from under the blankets, and Shanks stands, beating his brother to grasp your hand in his own. Your eyes crack open a moment later, blurry but more focused now than you seem to have been in days. You turn your head, lips pulling up in a tiny smile when you see both of your boys sitting beside you. You squeeze the hand you hold, voice scratching and throat sore.
“Shanks, you're here.”
The redhead smiles sadly, squeezing your hand back tightly, “Yeah, baby. I'm right here. How are you feeling?”
You shift with a wince to lay on your side, sliding your other hand out and reaching for the older twin. Shamrock easily slides his hand into yours, eyes soft as he stares at you.
“Better now that you're both here,” you say quietly and give them both a meager smile. You can tell, even in your pained and muddled state, that there is more than the usual tension between the two brothers. You sigh softly and squeeze Shanks’ hand again to gain his attention.
“Don't be mad, Red. This is my own fault. I should have been more careful.”
Both men widen their eyes, confused and about to argue that they are the ones who are supposed to take care of you, but you plow on before they can get a word out, “You can't be by my side every waking hour, loves. I knew this place would be dangerous even when I agreed to stay here. I got too comfortable, and that cost me.”
“But-”
You cut the holy knight off, “But nothing, Sham. You have duties, and Shanks, you have a crew to take care of. I don't want the two of you beating yourselves up or each other up.”
They watch you swallow harshly, lips moving into a weary smile full of sadness both men dearly wished they could wipe away.
“I heard what you said, Shamrock, and if it's as bad as you say it is, then I'm going to need you. Both of you.”
Shanks nods immediately, crouching down so that he can be at eye level with you. He leans forward, lips kissing your brow before he pulls back to give you a smile, “We'll be here, baby.”
Shamrock clutches your hand, still feeling that raging guilt that threatens to suffocate him, but he shoves it down for now. You were right. They would need to be there. He leans in and kisses your knuckles where they wrap around his hand, voice a soft promise, “Always, my love. We have you.”
You give them both a small smile, exhaustion suddenly eating away at you, and you squeeze their hands again, grip going slack as moments later, “I know.”
You are asleep seconds later, but neither man has any plans of going anywhere, not when you would need them when you woke up next. You had a long road of recovery ahead, but you would get there with them at your side.
@mit-suri @mfreedomstuff @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin
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