#mucking around with him is way fun

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking about married teacher steve and rockstar eddie.

steve’s students like to poke fun at him for “not being cool” or “trying to be cool”, and steve just feeds into it and plays up his cluelessness to modern things and what’s “hip” nowadays. he always just tells them they have no idea, and they’re gonna eat their words one day when they see how cool he really is, but all the kids just laugh and think he’s being sarcastic.

one day a group in his class is talking about the popular rock music star eddie munson, about his music and how much they love him, and steve joins in, asking them about eddie and what kind of music he makes and so on. he says something like “oh yeah, i think i know munson. yeah he’s cool, makes good stuff” and the kids are like “as if you know eddie munson, mr h, there is no way”. steve just chuckles and says “if you say so”

meanwhile eddie EATS EACH STORY UP when steve comes home with a something new to tell him all about what his kids were saying to him today

honourable mention but eddie also is WEAK for steve’s teacher outfits, the button ups, the vests, when he wears a tie WITH his glasses consider eddie a dead man.

on the last day of class for the year steve has given his class almost a free period of sorts to just chat and muck about being that it’s so close to vacation and all, and ofc the topic of steve’s uncoolness comes up again, and he’s just all laughs and smiles not even trying to fight back while they poke harmless fun at him, just looking smug as shit knowing these kids are in for a treat.

the bell goes and they all start to pack up their things to leave, and steve calls out to get their attention, remember the homework, stay safe, have a good break and all that, but THEN who else walks through the classroom door but eddie. munson. heading straight towards steve telling him “hey babe, ready to go?”

“yep, just let me grab my stuff” steve says back, and the class is stunned silent. eddie walks over to steve’s desk and puts a hand on his back as steve is leaning over it putting books and pages into his bag, “you guys are all free to go” he looks up to the class, smug as ever.

as he and eddie head towards the door, steve stops and turns around back to his class one last time, whisper shouting over his shoulder “who’s cool now?”

eddie is laughing infront of him as they walk out together, listening to the classroom they’d just left erupt into chaos.

[kittysarchive]

Enhypen with younger s/o

*includes fluff and smut

Poll winner:)

warnings- fluff, age gap (not to big), smut, Ot7 (niki in sfw section), daddy kink, big cock enhypen, begging, bj, hair pulling , lmk if i missed anything

SFW

Heeseung

Nothing much would change with Heesueng!

While he may be more caring or quicker to make sure you feel safe around him, Heeseung would act as he would with a gf his age. Though, his gentleman side will show more since he is the 'more mature' one out of the relationship. Whether that be or true or not, he still plays the role of a gentleman. Walking on side closer to the road, holding your bags, holding you close to him, opening doors for you and more.

Heeseung will also try to be more observant. He may be a year older than you or even five years or more older than you. Whatever the age difference is, he'll always attend to your needs as you come across different stages in your life.

But there's also another side of Heeseung! Since he has a younger s/o, he may feel that he can be more playful! Since his s/o is more youthful then he is, Heeseung not only mucks around, but makes sure to have fun with her and enjoy life.

Jay

We all know Jay will be more protective.

Not to the point of restricting your day-to-day life, but to the point where he will minimize any mishaps in your life. He'll do his best to make sure you don't get physically or emotionally hurt.

Jay also may shower her with affection more. Providing more gifts just to see her youthful smile. This could be done by small gifts, compliments or surprise outings. Jay is more protective of her, but he will always try to hide that, hiding it behind is cheery smile and easy-going personality.

In terms of age gaps, Jay may want a significantly younger s/o. Not only because they look younger or because he loves spoiling and taking care of who he loves, but typically, younger s/o not only have more energy, but provide Jay with many moments of happiness and fun memories. So for Jay he'd be happy with a four year age gap, even six years!

Jake

While Jake does give off huge Noona vibes, pairing him with a younger s/o could bring out more of his playful side.

All of Jakes energy needs to match a younger s/o. Going out on fun dates, creating a mess in the kitchen, possibly getting kicked out of a store from their antics....Either way while Jake is loving, he has a lot of energy, and a younger s/o would be perfect!

Jake will also make his s/o feel special! Because Jake can be playful and slightly immature, a s/o who is younger and has the same personality will not only feel more loved but feel understood as they act the same way.

When it comes to age gaps, Jake wouldn't want one which is to big. Sure he may want a younger s/o, but the age normally ranges from 1-3 age gap. However if we have mature of sugar daddy Jake, he'd love 5-7 years age gap.

Sunghoon

Ever watched 'When I fly towards you'? his relationship with his s/o would be like that (zhang lurang and su zai zai)

Sunghoon is more reserved, but a younger s/o would not only bring out a large smile but be refreshing as it forces to Sunghoon to come out of him shell a bit more. Sunghoon will not only fall in love with her energetic nature, but her cuteness as well!

Sunghoon would also adore a younger s/o who can understand him. Yes, he may fall in love with their cuteness or energy, but he also wants someone who can switch from funny to serious.

On the other hand, Sunghoon will also be supportive of his s/o, their biggest cheerleader! He'll help them get through any troubles with his own experience as well as be there for a shoulder to cry on.

When it comes to age gaps, Sunghoon doesn't mind. You could be a few months younger than him, or even five years, as long as you are able to be mature if the time comes, then that's all he needs.

Sunoo

Sunoo is another s/o cheerleader!

Like his own youthful personality, a younger s/o would best fit Sunoo. Sunoo will give his s/o all of his love! Making sure she not only feels safe in the relationship but respected and cared for.

Sunoo may not be as protective as Jay, but when the time comes, he will step up for his s/o. Whether that is to a stranger, family member or even a boss, he'll always be there to help his s/o.

In terms of dates, Sunoo has to go on one at least once a week! That could be a cute cafe to the cinema to even a pottery class! Anything hands on, or sure to make memories is a must. Sunoo has a lot of energy, so does his s/o so he wants to make the most of it.

Like Sunghoon, age gap doesn't really matter. Although I don't think 4+ years would be good for Sunoo as he is not one to lead (power dynamics aren't his thing) so 1-3 years is perfect.

Jungwon

Already being caring and full of love, a younger s/o would be perfect.

Jungwon, like Jay is someone who loves to spoil and care for people! With his more maturer side, he'll share advice with his s/o and even listen to all of their troubles or tea. Jungwon is always there to talk to, and he makes that known.

But, Jungwon still has a playful side. With a younger s/o he is able to show that side more often. He'll cheer you up, make inside jokes with you, play fight with you and even just muck around together, like splashing each other in the beach!

Jungwon wouldn't be able to handle more then five year age gap, all because not only is Jungwon quite young, but that is a huge maturity gap. 1-4 years is best, when older Jungwon could stretch to 5 years.

Ni-Ki

While Ni-ki is another member who gives off Noona loving vibes, a younger s/o would better suit him.

Ni-ki who is still young, having a younger s/o is better because they would relate to him more. Whether that childhood experiences to high school to even friend troubles, Ni-Ki most likely has also experienced that.

Although Ni-Ki is also younger, he is also mature. Mature enough to keep the relationship balanced. Ni-Ki will show you he loves you by compliments surprise gifts or even just chilling with you.

With a younger s/o, Ni-Ki who is still exploring the world, will do so with his s/o! He'll go to a new country with her, try new foods, try new hobbies and more! A relationship with Ni-Ki will be very easy going, full of love and energy.

At his age, a 1-2 year age gap is best, but when older, Ni-Ki could easily go for 1-6 years if he wanted to.

NSFW

Heeseung

His playboy nature comes out.

In fact, several kinks of his resurface if he has a younger s/o. Heeseung will be mindful of the possible power dynamics in this relationship. But when it comes to a younger s/o who is just as freaky as him and understands the possible dynamics, then he'll let loose.

Nearly every night will end in sex, fucking in the shower, on the couch, in his car, on the kitchen counter, on the floor, even against the mirror...but rarely in bed. Heeseung loves you so much, and he loves your body as well.

But with Heeseungs freaky side, a relationship with him will only work if his younger s/o shares a few of his kinks. Otherwise Heeseung won't enjoy the sex, and neither will his s/o. So heres a small look at a few of his kinks....as the older one in the relationship.

-Daddy kink...of course -Choking....

-Degradation -Breeding

-Hair pulling

Heeseung has a lot to give and he really does love his s/o, but another side comes out of his during sex.

"S-Shit just like that" Heeseung holds a tight grip on your hair, not letting you breath as he pushes more of his fat cock down your throat. "You look so cute" He hums, watching you struggle to take his cock. Eyes dropping small tears, he brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping it away. Pulling his hands off your hair, he holds your jaw softly. Pulling his hips back, Heeseung slowly thrusts forward, careful to not hurt you. "Taking daddy's cock so well....aren't you princess?" Humming on his cock, the vibrations send him closer to his release. Pulling his hips back, he thrusts forward again, his cock pulsing against your throat, but he already knows where he wants to cum, in your tight pussy.

Jay

When fucking his younger s/o, Jay can be pretty vanilla, unless a switch is pulled.

With his small range of kinks, sex can almost get boring with Jay. at night in your cozy bed, or in a warm shower, possibly against the counters in the kitchen? Thats what you get when you've been good.

But if you've been a brat on purpose, then Jay gets kinky. Fucking you rough into the bed, against the cold tiles in the shower, against the wall even in a public space if he really has to put you back in your place.

Sure to wake up with bruises the next day, you pussy won't be the only thing in pain.

"Thought I wouldn't mad, pissed even?" Jay scoffs, pushing his cock deep into your pussy. You squirm beneath him, barely prepped and needy, there was no way you could stay still. "You could have just waited an hour more" Jay hums, before thrusting in your pussy. You squeal from the force. "Wanted you" You cry out, trying to pull Jay's body close to yours. Not letting you, Jay scoffs in response. "So you are a slut" Sliding in and out if your pussy with ease, Jay wasn't even surprised to see his cock glistening with your arousal.

Jake

Like Heeseung, Jake can get pretty freaky. With the power dynamics flowing when he fucks you, Jake is sure to care for you later, after he fucks you good.

But Jake can be a simple man as well. While he also has his kinks and freaky side, there are only a few places Jake actually enjoys fucking you. In his car and in front of a mirror.

If Jake were to have an older s/o, he'd be the one on his knees, the one begging for pussy. But as the older one....Jake not only makes you beg for his cock, but forces you to work for it, if he's feeling mean.

Leaning back into his leather car seats, Jake smirks as you practically cry on his lap, begging for his cock. "Need you so bad Jakey....please" Your hips rut against his growing bulge. Lips pouting, Jake couldn't say no. "You want my fat cock? Want me to break you pussy?" Jake asks, already knowing the answer. You nod her head quickly, hips rutting against his clothed cock more. "Go on then" Sliding off his lap, you pull down his pants, eager to get his cock. Jake slouches more into the seat, just as eager to feel your wet pussy.

Sunghoon

While Sunghoon is quieter and more reserved, he is loud and gets what he wants during sex.

Unlike the others, he doesn't always get pleasure from degrading you, but he does love you begging for him. Not just for his cock, but even begging him to eat you out.

Sunghoon isn't too crazy or freaky when fucking you, but he does like to try new things out with you. If he's seen something while watching porn or heard about something from a friend like Jake, Sunghoon at some point, would want to try it with you.

"You so small" Sunghoon holds back his owns moans. Breathing through your mouth, no words came out as he fucked your pussy hard. "So tight..." He pushes his head into the crook of your neck. Feeling his breath in your collarbone, you whine out, the closet you came to forming a word. "Feel good?" Almost framed as a rhetorical question, Sunghoon didn't need an answer. He knew he was fucking you good, he knew you were in heaven. Pulling his hips back to fuck you tight pussy, he knew he made the right choice to find a younger s/o.

Sunoo

Sex won't change much with a younger s/o.

While he is older, possibly taller then you and possibly stronger then you, most likely you will still lead when having sex.

Like all subs, Sunoo has his moments where he'll want to fuck your mouth hard or fuck your pussy till your oozing with his cum, but more then often, he lies back and lets you ride him. For Sunoo, sex is for pleasure, and that doesn't have to be in a painful way.

"Keep going baby" Sunoo sighs, fingers squeezing into your nails as you ride him. Pussy swallowing his cock, Sunoo was in heaven. "Getting tired" You pace soon slows down. Having ridden him for nearly an hour, you were feeling more then cramps in your thighs. "Want me to fuck you then? Finally fill your pussy with my cum?" Squeezing his cock, you nod you head quickly. Switching position, you now lye on your back. More then ready to enter your already wet pussy, Sunoo wastes no time. "Fuck....been wanting to do this for a while" Sunoo pistons into your pussy, eager to make his promise.

Jungwon

Power dynamics don't always show in your relationship, if anything giving him a blowjob is the only power dynamic.

Yes, Jungwon loves you and he loves to have vanilla sex, but when he's stressed out or just feeling...like he wants be the one in control, he'll want a bj. It's simple, but shows how cute and small you are as you kneel below him, taking everything he gives you.

"Don't rush yourself" Jungwon laughs at your eagerness to swallow his whole length. Slowing yourself down, you begin to stroke his cock. "Just wanna taste you already" Jungwon nearly melts at the cuteness of your voice. Even if you weren't, you acted so innocent. Wrapping your hand over his cock, you suck his mushroom tip. Making direct eye contact with Jungwon, it was only a matter of minutes before he was gonna fuck your mouth.

no niki smut

[walkinthrudaisies]

Roslyn

sam winchester x angelfem!reader

2.6k | slight angst, fluff

summary: after sam and dean find themselves acquainted with another angel, sam finds himself more drawn to her than he imagined.

sam and dean thought that after cas, no more angels would be vying to join their little group. both agreeing that the angel spot on the team had already been taken by their trench coat wearing friend

though as life goes, nothing ever happens as planned. that came as a soft spoken, timid angel that happened to be you. a beacon of hope that sam and dean didn’t even know they needed at the time.

sam winchester had recently gotten out of hell, and there were rumours going around that he wasn’t acting like he usually did. you sat back and observed, not wanting to intrude at a wrong time, and only by that did you realize he’d been ripped out of hell without a soul. he was a man walking around with no human morals — or emotions for that matter, and you could tell it was taking a toll on his older brother.

when your brother castiel had managed to get the winchesters soul back, you knew it was time for you to descend down to earth. castiel wasn’t acting like himself, and with the war raging on in heaven, you knew that a little down time out of the sky would be helpful for you.

the only problem was you didn’t have a vessel. you never liked the idea of completely taking over someone’s body. you’d only done it once and it wasn’t fun, even though you had the woman’s full permission and she remained in perfect condition after your endeavours.

so you spent your time picking out the perfect person to merge into. when you came across a young, twenty something year old woman named roslyn, you couldn’t help but conclude that she was the one.

a very faithful girl, she had been struggling with a rare disease for the past couple of years. roslyn was in pain, and the only way you could think of helping her was allowing her soul to go into heaven and for you to take over her body. it was awful timing, you knew it. but her soul would be free, and you communicated with her in the special ways that you angels did, and she was more then happy to lend her body over to your essence.

when you finally took control over her body, your first course of action was to find the winchester brothers. they needed help, and as much as they didn’t want to admit it you knew they knew it too.

the mother of all was out of purgatory and running a muck, someone was trying to open purgatory’s gates on top of that, and cas being completely MIA as the icing on the cake was definitely not helping the two men. with sam’s soul being freshly back in his body you knew they were distraught. you knew castiel’s suspicious behaviour wasn’t helping and you just wanted to be of service.

the winchester’s weren’t hard to find. they’d been praying to your brother for some time, and without him answering, their prayers started seeping in to yours and other angels wave lengths.

you found them in a motel right in the middle of chicago, working on a case to take a break on the whole purgatory debacle. your wings flapped in the wind as you found yourself in front of the building, senses running ramped as you tried to figure out which room was there’s.

as you walked up to their door, you wondered how you were going to address the brothers. what would you say to them? would you flat out mention castiel’s weird behaviour? you weren’t really sure, but you knew that your main goal was to let the winchester’s know you were on their side.

your knuckles softly tapped onto the wooden door, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for an answer. what you didn’t expect though, was a behemoth of a man to answer it, so tall that you had to crane your neck to look beyond his middle.

you’d assumed that the man who opened the door was either sam or dean. while the stories of the winchester brothers didn’t leave out their attractiveness, but you didn’t expect for one of them to look this good. his sharp facial features and longish hair pulled you in. though, it was his soft, hazel eyes that had you mesmerized. they held such a soft aura to them, making you melt into their vernal appearance and long for his comfort.

sam was confused. neither him or dean was expecting someone, and he would’ve known if his brother was bringing a girl to their room. the look in her face was scared and timid, a shy smile lighting up her bright eyes. sam wanted to believe she bared good intentions, but knowing him and his brothers luck she’d be another problem they had to handle.

“hello.” the word slipped from your lips in a low alto, almost like you were trying to remain unseen. “are you either sam or dean winchester?”

the question caught sam of guard. “yeah i’m sam. my brothers just inside.” he didn’t want to alert dean to the strange woman at their door, but he still wanted to be careful. “who are you?”

tilting the corner of your lip into a delicate smile, you brought your hand out from sam to shake. “i’m Y/N.” you spoke as sam took your hand, holding lightly as he felt the smoothness of it’s ridges. “i am an angel of the lord, one of castiel’s companions actually.” you thought that maybe mentioning castiel would soften their immediate aggression towards your unknown presence, but the look on sam’s face was deterring you in the other direction.

turning his head to look over at dean, sam gave him a look of ‘we’ve got an issue’, instantly alerting the older winchester to prepare for any harm that would come to either him or sam.

without really thinking, you brushed past sam into the room and inspected it further. you saw who you assumed to be dean stood by a bed, gun hung by his hips but hands placed at the ready if you did anything that rubbed him the wrong way.

placing your hands behind your back, you immediately got into business. “as you are both aware, eve is out of purgatory. i’m also sure you’re aware that my brother castiel has been a bit off lately. i’ve just come down to assist you both, make sure that everything is in order and that purgatory will remain as it always has.” the brothers watched you in slight awe, almost like they didn’t expect for you to know what was happening down on earth. just because there was a gruesome war going on in your home doesn’t mean you weren’t completely out of the loop.

dean was the first to speak, looking at you skeptically as he gave your face a once over. “you seem lovely, sweetheart but how do we know you’re telling the truth?” his question was valid, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the winchester’s classic style of not being easily trusting.

“here,” you spoke, moving so you could be in the middle of the room. “let me show you.” in an instant you flapped your wings and disappeared, shocking sam and dean and having the younger brother almost knocking back into the motel rooms desk.

in a couple of short minutes you were back, wind tossed hair with a pie in hand. you handed it over to dean, brushing your hair back as you straightened your back. “i flew to the nearest diner to get you some pie. cas tells me you really enjoy apple.”

if someone’s eyes could become actual saucers than dean winchester accomplished it. he looked like a kid in a candy shop who’s mom allowed him to get his favourite treat. “you might just be my favourite member of the god squad.” dean mumbled through a mouthful of pie, smiling contently to himself as he took another bite.

sam was still a little on the fence, not really sure on one thing. “why aren’t you alerting the other angles if you’re so concerned? i thought you guys rarely came down to earth.”

“believe me,” you spoke, shifting on your feet so you could look at dean more clearly. “if i didn’t have to be down here i wouldn’t. but heaven has been run amuck, and i’m starting to get worried about cas.” the look on sam’s face after you voiced your worry on your brother confused you. the angel was acting different, sketchy even. why weren’t sam and dean jumping at the opportunity to help you get to the bottom of his behaviour?

“why are you so concerned about castiel?” sam questioned, leaning forward so he could be closer to you. “last we saw of him he seemed to be fine.”

oh. so the winchester’s didn’t know about their angel friends strange behaviour. with all the stuff on their plate you weren’t surprised; but you started to think of the severity of castiel’s actions if he didn’t think to have sam and dean in the mix with him.

brushing off any worry on your face, you plastered on your best smile and tried to comfort sam and dean. “heaven just hasn’t seen him in a while that’s all. i just wanted to come down and be of help when castiel is away.” dean’s face showed some skepticism, but sam seemed more open to your help, and gave his brother a look that screamed ‘give her a chance’.

sighing to himself, dean turned and looked over at you with defeat. “alright, you can help.” his head perked up a second after, seemingly thinking of something. “why did your think we needed your help anyway? this is a simple demon case.”

oh the winchester’s. they were very bright in some areas, yet when it came to looking at the bigger picture, they fell a little flat. “eve is here that’s why.” you spoke, watching as both brothers faces fell. “she’s the one orchestrating all of this.” the look on both sam and dean’s faces showed they weren’t aware of this, even though it made the most sense.

“well, that’s good enough for me. let’s go find ourselves some demons.” dean enthused, getting up and grabbing his weapons and jacket. as sam and his brother went around grabbing their belongings, sam noticed how you just stood still, eyes darting around the room like everything was new and fresh to you. in hindsight, it was, for this was your first time on earth. sam was just so enthralled with the look on your face, how the smallest thing interested you.

even when you followed behind the two brothers on the way to the impala, your eyes caught on everything. cars, people, shops, and especially the flowers and greenery that danced along the buildings and ground.

as you three pulled up to the abandoned warehouse, you could sense the demonic presence from outside. this allowed you to sneakily walk sam and dean right to where the demons were, garnering them the moment of surprise which gave them time to whip out three out the six demons.

while sam and dean fought two demons, you watched as another tried to escape. transporting right in front of the man you watched as his face turned into a snarl. “looks like they’ve got another angel on their side.” he sneered, attempting to move past you but failed as you kicked his legs in and pinned him down to the ground.

“where’s eve.” you asked calmly, not wanting to talk to this demon longer than you should. he just smirked at you, spitting up onto your face to get his point across.

gosh they really were abominations. you were disgusted and really sick of having to be in his presence, so with a slight crush of his windpipe and a foot on his rib he was sputtering out her whereabouts. “thank you.” you responded in a nonchalant manner, putting two fingers on his forehead and smiting him into nothing.

standing up and brushing some dust from your coat, you turned and noticed sam and dean standing a little ways behind you, shock covering their faces.

“wow” dean breathed, putting his gun into his coat. “didn’t realize angels were so brutal.” sam seemed more star struck, like the simple notion of what you just did astounded him. you didn’t say anything to either of the two men, casually shrugging your shoulders and walking back to the impala.

sam didn’t move for a second, garnering dean to whack him on the back and snicker to himself. “got some drool there on your cheek, sammy.” the younger winchester just huffed, mumbling about how dean was an ass while he got into the passenger seat with the strange yet attractive angel sitting behind him.

the ride back to the motel was quite, the only sound being the hum of the car and the soft rock music dean was playing over his radio. you knew your work here was done, that when you three pulled to a stop that you’d have to leave. something inside of you didn’t want you to go. it wanted you to see what castiel saw in the winchester’s. elaborate on the feeling of peaceful energy that being around sam gave you for the first time.

when the time came for you to bid your farewell, the atmosphere seemed to change. dean was very cordial. a simple goodbye and a slight wave of his hand was all he could muster up before retreating back into his room.

sam on the other hand, he lingered for a bit.

his eyes raked over the form of your vessel. he knew that this wasn’t what you truly looked like. somehow, that didn’t phase him. the aura and emotion you executed was enough for him to get a feel of who you truly were.

the somber look behind vast irises was enough for sam to understand that you truly didn’t want to leave. you had to, you didn’t want to. that was enough for sam to feel a sprinkle of hope that him and dean would be seeing you again.

releasing a puff of air, you were the one to break the looming silence. “please look out for castiel. something’s off with him, i just don’t know what.” sam also could tell that you wanted to stay to help your brother, but that inner turmoil which had been deeply in rooted from the angels wouldn’t let you.

the man wanted you to feel a sliver of comfort. so he agreed, giving you a slight nod as he watched the wind tousle your hair around.

you looked beautiful under the moonlight. sam truly could understand why you were an angel. your kindness and true devotion to the ones you loved barred proudly on your chest. sam swore you glowed, but that was just his imagination talking.

“i better go.” you whispered, walking over to sam and placing your hands on his shoulders. the younger winchester was frozen, not knowing how to react at your blatant actions. with a swift turn of your head, you pressed a delicate kiss to sam’s cheek. the lingering feeling of your lips on his skin had sam reeling.

he couldn’t react. a whoosh of wings and a slight gust of air alerted him to your departure. you hadn’t even been gone a minute and sam deeply down already missed you.

sam winchester was in too deep already and it seemed like he couldn’t give a care in the world.

[merbear25]

Can you do Zoro, Sanji, and Luffy x single mother S/O? Would they treat their S/O’s son/ daughter as their own?

Hey, hey! This was so heartwarming for me to think about, so thank you for sending in your request! Personally, I can’t see them being anything other than accepting towards the child. Generally speaking, they’d see them as an extension of you, so there’d be no reason for them not to care for them like their own. I hope you like what I’ve written for you 💜💜

CW: fluff, fem!reader (single mom), headcanons/scenario, written with them dating the reader and not married to her.

One of their own (Monster trio)

Zoro

Upon first meeting your child, he was unintentionally intimidating to them. Being the large scarred man that he was, it took awhile for the kid to warm up to him. With small yet thoughtful interactions, trust was built on a solid foundation. He became someone your child could turn to when they felt unsure about something, knowing that Zoro would come at the issue with a level head.

Playtime would always leave the child worn out. It’d be perfect if they were younger, so you could lay them down to sleep much more easily. Sometimes they passed out on the couch, so Zoro would be the one putting them to sleep, seeing as their dead weight would be easy for him to haul off to bed.

He’d be stern yet caring, not giving the kid room to run a muck because he’d always be respectful of the rules you’d set in place. The child learned quickly that they couldn’t try to get their own way if you told them no. “Can I have some candy?” types of questions were always followed by, “What did your mother say?”

Sanji

When you first introduced him to your child, he was very warm and open towards them. Your child took to Sanji almost instantly. With a smile that was inviting and comforting like an embrace, he easily became one of your child’s favorite people. They felt at ease around him; he was caring and gentle but wasn’t a pushover (unless your daughter gave him puppy dog eyes).

One of their favorite activities would be cooking and/or baking together. He’d adore being able to share his passion with them. They’d be put in charge of certain aspects of the meal, so that they felt like they were contributing to whatever delicious food was being prepared. When it was time to lay them down to sleep, Sanji would read them a bedtime story, wanting to show them the affection that his father never gave him.

He’d never cross the line when it came to how you ran your household, treating the boundaries you’d set in place with the utmost respect. Even if your child tried to pull on his heartstrings with an adorable look, he’d honor your rules—despite it being extremely difficult sometimes. Sanji would want to spoil them, so just be sure to keep an eye on him.

Luffy 

The first time you introduced Luffy to your child, he was warm and friendly. However, there was just something about him that made your child feel like they needed to scope him out before they could feel comfortable around him; he was, after all, a very unusual person. The more time they spent around him, the easier it got to come around. They then would ask you all the time when Luffy was coming over.

Being the imaginative man that he was, Luffy would create games seemingly out of thin air. Since he was more of the ‘do now think later’ type, your house became subjected to much of their wacky fun. With a few broken items here and there, he apologized profusely for the recklessness and promised to take their fun outside from then on.

Even though he was playful and light-hearted, he still had moments when he was serious. When you or your child needed him to be that, he’d step up and do what had to be done. With that in mind, you and your child’s bond with him would strengthen and whenever you had down time to relax and watch something, more often than not you’d fall asleep on the couch together.

[octuscle]

Blood is thicker than water

Peter hated being out in the fresh air. He had hated working on the farm ever since he had had to help his grandparents muck out the barn during the summer vacation. Yes, there weren't many other ways to earn money here in Lincoln now. But Nebraska wasn't Peter's future either. He was very sure of that. His future would be somewhere in New York, Singapore or London. Somewhere where the big money was. That's where he wanted to go. And that was where he belonged.

The job at the local bank wasn't that glamorous yet. But it was the starting point. Working at the cash desk, processing loan applications, it was all just a prelude to the glittering world of investment banking and hedge funds. He was hardworking, he was smart and charming. And he looked incredibly good in a suit.

When the board called him into his office, Peter saw his big moment had come. He adjusted his tie knot, took a deep breath, knocked and entered the office of his top boss. "Peter, good to see you, have a seat!" Mr. Harrison greeted him. "I hear wonderful things from you. I thought it was long overdue to meet you in person." Peter had to make an effort to stay cool. "As you probably know, the head of our corporate client department is being replaced. And even though you're actually a bit young for a position as head of department, I've been advised to consider you." Strike, thought Peter. "However, I have a, shall we say, delicate task… But if you master it successfully, I have no doubts that you are the right man for the job." A few minutes later, Peter wished he had never started at the bank.

The farm he was on his way to belonged to his uncle Cleatus. It had once been his grandparents' farm. His mother's parents' farm. Not the one where he had had the humiliating experience in the cowshed. This was his father's parents' farm. Damn it, he thought to himself. I must have manure running through my veins. I come from a clan of cows. "Anyone home?" he called out as he arrived in the yard between the stables and the house. The farm looked run-down. He hadn't been here for a long time. Suddenly he heard someone loading a shotgun. "I'm not expecting visitors!" Peter heard a harsh voice. Peter turned around and grinned as friendly as he could. "Hi Uncle Cleatus! It's me, Peter" "Peter, damn it, why are you in disguise? You look like an asshole from the bank!" Peter gulped. This was going to be fun. His uncle invited him into the large kitchen. It was dirty and untidy. Peter saw the pile of unopened post. He took a deep breath, declined the offered beer and began: "Uncle Cleatus, I'm actually not here by choice. And let me get straight to the point: I'm one of those assholes from the bank…"

"Junior!" roared Cleatus. "Say goodbye to your cousin!" Peter looked down the barrel of the shotgun. It hadn't gone as well as he had hoped when he told his uncle that the farm would have to be foreclosed. "Junior, now!". The floor shook as Junior approached the kitchen. It was beginning to stink. Slurry, sweat… And then his cousin Junior stood in front of him. A colossus! He took him in his arms and almost crushed him. "Throw him out, the asshole!" Peter lost the ground beneath his feet. Junior carried him out into the yard. And threw him into the mud. He lay in mud, cow shit and manure. Peter picked himself up and turned around. He wanted to protest. But one look in Junior's direction was enough. And he took off in the direction of the town.

Something was strange… Peter should actually feel humiliated and bad. But he was fine. The dirt on his ruined suit was drying. He was sweating in the warm air. He whistled a song. He was doing well. Of course, his uncle's farm hadn't been saved, but at least he hadn't put his own family out on the street. Shit, that wouldn't be worth a promotion on this planet either. He was beginning to develop pride in his grandparents' accomplishments working this land. They had made this country great. That made him very proud. And he was growing, without realizing it, in his suit.

He had parked his car outside on the country road so as not to get it dirty on the muddy dirt track. Peter now stripped out of his dirty suit on the road and sat in the car half naked so as not to soil the seats. The suit lay crusty, but neatly folded, in the trunk. It wasn't the end of the day yet. He had to report to the bank. He needed something to wear. And, given the way he smelled of cow shit and manure, a shower, too. Peter scratched his chin to think. His chin was scratchy. Very scratchy. And his upper arm looked kind of powerful. His cock in his boxer shorts was getting hard. Shit, what was he going to do now? Fortunately, he remembered the workwear store at the entrance to the town. He would find something to wear there. Maybe nothing from an Italian designer. But it would certainly be better than underwear.

The waitress in the store looked as if she was always serving men in their underwear. Peter mumbled that he needed something for the office. The waitress nodded understandingly and said that a guy who was built like him was certainly not the kind of person who would fit into an office. Peter didn't understand, but nodded. "Go into the changing room, I'll bring you something," said the sales assistant. Peter did as he was told. He looked in the mirror. Yes, he was a man who, in his underwear, you would probably expect to see as a construction worker or tree cutter. Arms like his didn't really fit into a shirt. "You look like you have an appointment at the bank," said the sales clerk. "You'll want to look respectable." Peter actually wanted to say that he worked at the bank. But somehow he had the feeling that wasn't true… "Yes, I have a farm to save," Peter replied. "Shit situation," replied the salesman. "Bankers are all vultures!"

When Peter arrived back at his small office, where he was a corporate account manager, he took a deep breath. Yes, he too was a vulture. But not as bad as the money-grabbing careerists up there. He was a passionate banker. He wanted to help people. His people. Before he called Mr. Harrison, he took a deep breath. His huge chest rose and fell. He reeked of sweat in his cheap polyester shirt. And after his visit to the farm, he probably had cow shit in the treads of his rough boots. But he just wasn't the type for penny loafers and Egyptian cotton shirts. He was a guy from Nebraska. Even if he did work in a bank.

The conversation with Mr. Harrison went as Peter had expected. You couldn't expect sympathy from a man like that. And Peter didn't want to work with a man like that again. He had saved hard. His dream had been to buy a house in the suburbs soon. But now there were more important things. One word followed the next in the phone call with Mr. Harrison. Until Peter plucked up his courage and told the vulture to stick his money up his ass. Peter would pay off his uncle's debts. And then turn his back on the bank. He threw his tie in the garbage can. And unbuttoned his shirt. Free! Free at last!

Junior was quite a challenge. His cousin was a few weeks older than him. And he hadn't been softened up by working in the city. But Pete had been living on the farm for a few weeks now and, thanks to his cooperation, there was a silver lining. The auction was off the table. Everything would be fine. And at the next wrestling match in the cowshed, Junior would lose and Pete would win. And the winner would get his cock sucked by the loser. Life on the farm was wonderful!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Keeper

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You join the keepers at training

Your path was set almost as soon as Zećira signed for Not-Wolfsburg.

Her first practice had you toddling away from your Momma and giving her a big hug.

"Hi, y/n," She had said to you and it was at that moment that you decided that there was nothing more fun than being attached to Zećira every practice.

"Okay, princesse," Morsa makes sure that your braids on done up tightly and that your special Scooby Doo backpack is secure on your back," Be good for Zećira, okay?"

You roll your eyes. "I'm always good for Zećira. I'm her best girl!"

Morsa looks down at you fondly, a kiss laid on your head as Momma ties your laces.

"You're our best girl too," Momma reminds you, pressing her own kiss to your cheek," Off you go then, princesse, have fun with Zećira."

Your new guardian is waiting for you by the locker room door. You take her hand.

Ann-Katrin is already practicing when you approach and she smiles at you. You smile back a little warily, she's very tall and very intimidating sometimes.

Zećira gets you set up just behind the goal with snacks, drinks and your toys. She smooths down your flyaways. "Are you going to be okay, here?"

You nod.

"You come get me if you need anything."

To your credit, you're pretty lowkey. You're happy with your toys and your snacks. Morsa and Momma haven't ever given you a tablet or ipad and tv time at home is strictly regulated so you know how to keep yourself occupied.

But today, you find yourself watching Zećira and Ann-Katrin practice. You've seen Momma practice with the other forwards before and Morsa with the defenders but none of it ever interested you much.

But, watching from your place behind the goal, you were very interested. You glance around for your Momma and Morsa before you scooch off the blanket you're sitting on. You continue to bum shuffle onto the grass of the pitch until you're peering around the left goalpost, watching as Ann-Katrin goes for a dive.

You grin and clap as she saves it and Zećira looks at you fondly. She approaches and crouches in front of you. "I thought I left you on your blanket?" She teases, picking you up under your arms.

"I watch," You say. You poke at her gloves. "Momma and Morsa don't have to wear them."

"Magda and Pernille don't have our job," Zećira says," We have one of the most important jobs."

"You stop the goals."

"We stop the goals." Ann-Katrin joins you now. She looks a little less intimidating now as she drops down onto a knee. "Do you want to try?" She holds out a pair of gloves.

You look to Zećira for permission, because you know she's in charge when Momma and Morsa aren't there. She nods.

You nod too and Ann-Katrin places them on your hands. They're a little big on you, obviously made for adults but you don't really care, just happy to be wearing them.

They feel nice in a way that you can't explain and, when Zećira kicks a ball into your hands, they feel even better.

With the goalkeeper coach happy to let the three of you muck around, Ann-Katrin stands behind you, coaching you side to side to block Zećira's shots (and helping you stop the ones that just slip past your gloves).

You're mostly successful and it makes you feel all good and fluttery inside - more so than when Momma lets you play around with her and Sam or when Morsa and Millie try to train you into a 'brick wall' or something.

You beam down at Zećira as Ann-Katrin lets you ride on her shoulders.

"A natural!" Zećira proclaims," The future first goalkeeper of Sweden!"

You keep smiling as you're carted around and, when the coach makes the pair go back to work, he lets you stand by him, explaining what he was making them do and why it helped.

You're extremely happy by the time you're given back over to your mothers.

You happily chat away to Momma about your exciting day with the keepers and she oohs and aahs suitably over your rapid fire explanations (while hiding the disappointment she's feeling at your clear lack of interest in being a forward).

Zećira grins cockily at Magda as she approaches, slapping her friend on the back. "Here," She says," I completely forgot that I had these earlier."

She presses child-sized keeper's gloves into Magda's hand.

Magda raises an unimpressed brow. "And you just happened to have these lying around your house?"

Zećira shrugs unconcernedly as she and Magda look at you and Pernille. "What can I say? I had a feeling."

[purinfelix]

more joao felix pleasee 😔😔💞💞 ur girl is desperate

study buddy ｡˚✐~ joao felix

pairing: joao felix x reader summary: in which joao has to balance being both your boyfriend and study buddy warnings: none! w/c: 883

a/n: a little ironic that i'm procrastinating my final assignments by writing this but its motivaiton for myself okay!!! anyways hope you like this thank u sm for ur request <333

“Joao,”

“Hm?”

“Stop staring at me and focus, you have an exam to study for.”

You watched your boyfriend straighten up at your words, but not without a sly smirk spreading across his face at having been caught in the act of admiring you. Admittedly, it wasn’t something you weren’t used to by now - but it just wasn’t the time. Maybe if you were less stressed about the mountain of work and studying you had to do you might’ve even entertained him, but even so, your university library was no place for such things.

“I can’t help it, you’re distracting me,” he mumbled, turning back to the several open textbooks he had laid out in front of him - likely in an attempt to look like he was doing work. This elicited a small, shy chuckle from you, even though you were trying your best to maintain your firm demeanour.

“Well, you’re lucky anyways,” you hummed, “you’ll ace your exams no matter what. I, on the other hand, am practically screwed for this final.”

Now it was his turn to laugh, “You can’t be serious baby.” You turned to give him a look that made it clear you were as serious as you could get.

“You’ll be fine, you worry too much,” he sighed, scooting his chair a little closer.

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled, gripping the pen in your hand even tighter as you worked on your notes.

It had become sort of a routine for the two of you ever since the semester started, these study dates. Whoever’s class finished first would rush off to secure a seat, your favourite being a pair of desks tucked away in some far corner of the massive library, in between tall shelves of books that hadn’t been touched in decades. Sure, you would muck around a little bit before hand - Joao always insisted on being your personal escort once your class finished, and somehow the two of you always ended up in a cafe on your way for a little ‘sweet treat’.

But it was convenient for the two of you, you got to see each other and spend time in each other’s company in a way that slotted neatly into both of your busy student schedules - plus, you could never figure out why but you seemed to work much better in your boyfriend’s company than you did alone. Even if you found yourself having to put up with his protests against studying multiple times throughout the session.

However what had been a fun little meet up in the earlier weeks of the semester had now become tense, with the onset of finals and end-of-semester assignments. Your boyfriend never seemed to have as much a sense of urgency as you did about these things, and still didn’t understand why you got so worked up about academics. In a weird way, you appreciated it though, for moments like this.

You felt the warmth of his touch on the back of your hand - gentle, soothing.

“Baby,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him through the haze of stress that had seemed to follow you around for the last week. You paused, turning to look up at him and his soft gaze.

“What,” you said, trying not to sound too mad at him interrupting what could’ve been a very thorough revision session - never mind it being your third for the day.

“You’ll be fine for this exam, trust me,” his tone was different from before, the air of humour completely lost and replaced by a sense of earnestness.

“No, but-” you began to protest before he interrupted you.

”You work hard, harder than me and probably harder than most of the people in your class, I know that. You’ll be okay,” you felt your heart soften, accompanied by a pang of annoyance at the fact he always seemed to know what to say to you when you got worked up. You let out a soft sigh to let him know you appreciated his words.

“Now, I think you’ve done enough for today. Why don’t we pack up, grab some dinner, and head home so you can get a good night’s sleep.” A part of you wanted to protest so badly, to shove him away and ask him who the hell he thought he was for talking to you like you were some sort of child. But the rest of you was too tired to do anything but nod, and the better part understood that he wasn’t doing this out of anything but pure love and care for you - as your boyfriend.

You watched as he moved quickly to pack away your things, being gentle with your notes and laptop, before slinging both his and your bag over your shoulder. He reached out a hand to you, which you took, standing up slowly to prevent your legs from cramping up as you were only just realising how long you’d been sitting still for. You looked up as he smiled lovingly, sweeping your hair back to plant a soft kiss on your forehead and drag you out of the library.

[solanal0ve]

HOW THEY FUCK YOU ON NEW YEARS

ִ ★ Its new years and your getting fucked. {Toji, Choso and Gojo}

ִ★ contents: fem!reader, hair pulling, praise, edging, creampie, begging and some other stuff

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ TOJI FUSHIGURO

He will find anywhere and any place to bend you over. The couch, a table, a chair anywhere. He has been edging you for at least an hour. He’s pulling on your hair whispering naughty things in your ear while fucking you stupid. “Oh look at that.. the ball is about to drop” You look at the T.V and see the count down. “Come on baby count with us” Giving a hard slap to your ass making you a moaning mess while he pounds into your sweet cunt like the worlds about to end. He really wants you to count while he is fucking you non stop? “10.. 9..” He beings counting. “Oh fuck im gonna cum!” You practically yell. Your legs are aching in pain from the roughness of tojis fucking and you feel cross eyed. “Dont you fucking dare” He groans in your ear. “Count” you can’t believe it he actually wants you to count. The idea slowly dawns on you that he wont let you cum until you count and new years has passed. He knows you will do anything to cum. “5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1” You count. “Cum” It was almost in a whisper but your glad you heard it. Your orgasm rips though you sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “Happy new year baby”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ CHOSO KAMO

He is leaving passionate kisses from you neck all the way down to your pussy. He already ate you out but he is just naturally a sweetheart and loves to kiss you body. “You ready?” The tip of his dick is pressing up against you entrance and theres 5 minutes until midnight where it will be a year new. You nod and watch as his dick slides into you pussy with ease. You moan from the feeling of being filled up with his dick and you already know this will be fun. He begins to thrust in and out of you like there is no tomorrow making your body ache but you didn’t mind you were just happy that you got to get fucked by him. Choso. 1 minute til midnight. “Oh yes.. Fuckkk choso” You moan feeling his dick slide in and out and always pounding into that spot that makes you want to lose your mind. “Just like that baby, moan my name for me” You hear him panting heavily and you pussy squeezes around his cock. 10.. 9.. 8.. “Lets cum on 1..ok?” He growls in you ear. You nod unable to say anything. 3..2..1 Fireworks pop outside and there beautiful but you don’t pay muck attention to that as you both release. You can feel his cum filling you to the brim, its warm and it feels really good. “Happy.. happy new years my love”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ SATORU GOJO

Gojo had been edging and teasing you for at least an hour now. He would let you cum and then build you up for another release then take it away. It was like he was playing with you feeling and you didn’t like that very much. You were a sobbing begging mess he had now edged you 3 time in a row. “T-toru please.” There were tears running down you cheeks all you wanted to do was cum “Please what..? use your words.” You knew exactly what he was doing you both knew new years was another 2 minutes from now and he is gonna make you hold out until then. “Please let me cum toru please.” Your legs were aching and you body was sore but you still had 2 minutes. “Hmmm should i?” He asks himself slowly pulling out on ur dripping pussy “Nope” A grin spreads across his face and he pounds back into you pussy making you cry out with a mix of pain and pleasure. 30 seconds on the count down and you a moaning sobbing mess you want it to end but want him to keep going. “Your doing such a good job.. Just a little more baby” He groaned in you ear with you legs over his shoulders. 8.. 7.. “Come on baby just a little longer” You were at your breaking point but you cant hold it for a few more seconds right? 3.. 2.. 1.. Its new years. “cum for me baby” Using his tumb to rub your clit in small circles you release all over him and you body fell pimp. “Happy new year.”

NOTES . . . HAPPY NEW YEARS though im a little late because i’ve been busy i wanna say thank you for 80+ notes on my last post. I wanted to do sukuna but its 2am im sleepy n i have school tmr but i hope you all had a wonderful new years and love ya

[hollewdz]

Quinn and Jaz - Ch 1

word count: ~2.1k

_______________________

Quinn sometimes wondered if she was cursed. 

Not with a big, life-altering curse; she didn’t believe she was important enough for one of those. She wondered if someone, somewhere, decided she was worth fucking with, and decided, every day, to do little things to make her life just that much harder. Right now, she was wondering if this mystery-being decided to make her bus late. 

Pacing a circle into the snow at the bus stop, a flash of ice bit at Quinn’s heel. Looking down, she saw a pathetic old winter boot, ripped at the seam and gulping in muddy ice slush.

“Because the bus being late just wasn’t fun enough, huh?” she griped, trying and failing to shake the ice from her boot. She hated this. Hated these long, exhausting days of classes and overtime shifts, which would have been bearable, if the damn bus was even half as efficient as she was.

A long, forced sigh shot into the air in a dramatic cloud. Instead of standing around for 20 minutes in the cold for a slimy bus, she could walk for 15 minutes back to her apartment. It would suck, but at least she could choose the suckiness she had to deal with. Briskly trudging her way through the slush and muck on the cracked sidewalks home, chunky snowflakes began drifting through the air around her. Quinn wanted to cry, but refused to permit herself the catharsis. She’d been through so much worse; and heavy college textbooks, a long shift at Shelly’s, a late bus, a broken shoe and walking in the snow was nothing compared to that. 

This isn’t for forever, Quinn’s calming mantra surfaced in her mind. It’s not even for the next 20 minutes. Get home and you can take a steaming hot shower and have some soup.

Slowing to a stop at a crosswalk, Quinn nearly tripped on a wet heap of something piled right next to the crosswalk button. What the hell? After mashing the button a few times, she used her good boot to shove some of the snow away. A pile of soaking wet clothes, some sneakers and an expensive-looking bag stared back glumly at her.

Who would strip in this weather? Crouching down to balance sitting on her ankles, she unzipped the bag and rummaged through it. Tugging out a heavy metal clip wallet, tapped out the cards to see that this bag -and presumably outfit- belonged to…

“...Jasper Ross” she breathed absent-mindedly. Why does that sound familiar? Quinn was hardly a socialite, and she only knew the names of the people she had to deal with for projects and such. There was a sudden stirring from the pile of clothes. With a yelp reminiscent of a scared chihuahua, Quinn splashed clumsily from her half-perch-half-crouch into a slush of muddy ice. Oh God, a rat?? Not even caring that her backside was now soaking wet, Quinn tried and failed to push herself away from the nest of laundry, her old worn boots refusing to grip the ice. Then, she heard the most peculiar noise that gave her pause- an almost unhearable, muffled shout came from within the pile of clothes. “What the fuck?! Where am I?” 

Quinn’s eyes grew wide as she saw a… a… tiny guy.  There was a tiny guy, emerging from the pile in front of her. Frozen in place, Quinn couldn’t tear her eyes away, she needed to download every bit of information about this new phenomena in front of her. 

He looked proportionate, and fit. Even, golden-brown skin with a mop of dark brown hair. He seemed to be assessing his surroundings, hands exploring the fabric around him. He could have been muttering something, too, but Quinn wasn’t close enough to hear. Miniscule eyes finally swiveled towards Quinn, and for a moment Quinn thought he looked quite a lot like an action figure with how still he went. His face slowly traced from her boots to finally meet her bewildered gaze. 

A long silence yawned between the two- Quinn had no idea how to approach this situation. Usually she’d blame her awkward personality, but she figured most people would be struggling for words right about now. Thankfully, she didn’t need to worry about what to say.

 “Oh hell no,” the man said with an exasperated groan. He began to rub his eyes vigorously. Quinn blinked. “Excuse me?” “Hey, lady, um, I think my vision is fucked. You look absolutely massive,” the man stated plainly. He righted himself and offered another comment, “And not in, like, a fat way. It’s like, a sky-scraper, ‘massive’ way. You think you could call an ambulance for me? That bitch from last night probably drugged me.” She ignored anything that could have been implied. Quinn’s throat had gone dry from the cold, but she managed to force out a response.

“Your vision has nothing to do with it. You’re, like, a borrower, dude,” Quinn half laughed. She had no clue how to react to this. The laughter built into a chuckle, then a full-blown fit. “W-what the fuck!” She managed to say between laughs of disbelief. She slapped her gloved hands firmly clasped over her mouth, failing to quell her convulsive laughter. She felt a heat begin to rise in her face, and darted her eyes along the street, head on a swivel. Thank god there’s no people around. “Lady, you’re a total psycho,” the diminutive man offered, going back to scrubbing his eyes.

A lazy snowflake slowly drifted down and planted atop the man’s head. Quinn steadied her breathing, watching him reach up and break a bit of the snowflake off in a crystal shard and then melt in his doll-sized hand. 

“Hm.” He started shivering then, enough for Quinn to notice. In fact, her own jeans had been soaking in ice-water since she slipped, and it was becoming very clear she needed to take control of the situation before things got worse. 

Drawing in a deep breath and loosing a cloud of fog into the chilled air, Quinn composed herself as well as she could manage. Chill out, he’s just…some guy. A very, very small guy, but still, she thought. She closed her eyes and breathed, then looked back to the doll-sized man. “Are you Jasper Ross?” she asked, holding up his wallet and sliding out his ID for him to see.

“First of all, looking through other peoples’ things is pretty invasive- but yes, that’s me. Secondly,” he pointed at her, “no one calls me ‘Jasper’. Ew. It’s Jaz.” He ran his hands over the folded cloth in front of him to dry his hands, and started rubbing his arms sharply. “Seriously, it’s too fucking cold out.” 

Quinn started feeling a bit bad for Jasper- or, Jaz, despite him being all sorts of rude. He was the size of a hamster, of course the cold would be biting at him hard. “Do you have any place I could take you to-”

“No,” Jaz shot, slumping into a grumble. “No I don’t.”

“For real?” Quinn furrowed her brow. “I would offer to take you to, like, the police, but I don’t think you’d like it there, either.”

“So you’re abducting me?”

“I’ll take you to the police station if you want.”

Jaz thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’d rather not be a lab rat. Do you have a place?”

“Wuh- me?” Quinn sat back again, but this time in shock at how forward he was being. A gust of icy wind made her shudder, and the cold concrete was making her legs go numb. “I-I mean, I do have a place, but-”

“Perfect, take me there.”

“I’m not ready for, uh, company-”

“Lady, I’m about to freeze to death, that doesn’t matter.” 

Quinn pursed her lips, holding her breath. He does look like he’s in the early stages of popsicle… And, realistically, what’s the worst that can happen? Pinching the crease between her brows and sighing, she shifted and replaced the wallet in the bookbag. “Fine. Just let me plan out how to carry everything, alright?”

“Roger that, Goliath,” Jaz shot back, gathering fabric to cloak himself, making him look even smaller than before. “What is your name, anyway, lady?”

Quinn was unamused by Jaz’s nickname. “What a skill, you guessed it right on the very first try. People usually say I look more like a Gulliver, though.” She finished packing up Jaz’s bag and swung it over her vacant shoulder. How should I tackle the clothes?

“I think you look like a perfect Goliath. Same stature, and all,” Jaz quipped. 

“Quinn. Is my, uh, name,” she offered lamely, rolling her eyes. “So. I assume you’re naked. And you’re standing in the middle of the clothes. I dunno what to do, champ.”

“You can’t just grab everything all at once?” 

She gave a huff, “All of that shit is like 20 pounds, it’s soaked. Maybe I can shove it in your bag? I don’t want to ruin anything-”

“Just do that, then, I can get a new bag.” 

Quinn’s eyes went wide at how wasteful of a thought that was, even if he could have been joking. She was slightly angry on behalf of the bag. “Whatever, it’s your shit. You want to go in the bag too?”

“You literally just said it’s freezing and soaked.”

“Well then I guess you’re walking,” Quinn huffed, growing tired of his less-than-pleasant attitude.

“Can’t you just…” Jaz trailed off, eyeing her gloved hands. He lingered there, and… gulped? Quinn couldn’t really tell. “What if you let me have your glove?”

“You’re naked.” 

“And freezing.”

Quinn looked down at her left hand for a long, disgusted moment. The gloves were the only things she had that were actually high quality- a gift from her younger brother. Her eyes scrunched tight at the thought of them being treated the same way this guy treated his bag. She summoned her courage, “You have to be clean. If you get them dirty you own me new ones.”

“God, is that not obvious? Anyway hurry it up, this isn’t funny anymore. It’s getting actually painful to be this cold.”

Quinn was surprised by how quickly he offered to pay for the gloves, and would have been suspicious he was lying if not for how disinterested he seemed by it. She pushed a finger under the cuff of her left glove, got it halfway up her hand, then pinched and tugged the glove off from her middle finger. She quickly went to lay it down next to Jaz, but stuttered when she saw how her hands truly dwarfed him. 

Quinn had never felt big, compared to anything before. Even though she was taller than average, her nature was to minimize herself; withdraw until no one could tell she took up any space at all. So much of her life was dedicated to remaining unseen, that she might have convinced herself that she didn’t even exist. 

Maybe that was why she grew queasy at seeing the truly baffling difference in size between them, why she felt more than ever that she had to shrink smaller than this finger-sized man before her. She basically lost sight of him behind her hand, as if there wasn’t a tiny person in the heap of clothing at all. 

She ripped her hands back from the glove as if it had burned her, “Whatever, don’t worry about the glove. Just get in and yell when you’re good to go.” She slouched and waited for him to call out, shrugging his bag back to the ground and unzipping it. She heard a muffled Okay let’s get a move on, and she pinched the opening of the glove to hover it above the clothes, then used her free hand to quickly and clumsily shove the sopping outfit into his really nice bag. 

She was able to ignore that queasy feeling with Jaz out of sight, thankfully. She tried to be as careful as she could standing up, figuring the best way to keep her gloves clean was to give Jaz a steady ride so he wouldn’t blow chunks, and she slipped the glove gingerly into one of her winter coat’s inner pockets. Still, the thought of Jaz spilling his guts didn’t stop her from basically jogging home- the promise of soup had never been so desirable.

__________ Chapter 2

This drawing is from like, 2020 and is definitely more of a concept image than 100% accurate X] I'll have to redraw it! I've actually been sitting on this story for so long, and I've gone back and forth about whether or not I wanted to do a comic or not, I just decided "fuck it write the damn thing and go from there" so here we are! :3

[bellewintersroe]

Would you please write a headcanon for Malarkey, Babe, Chuck, Shifty, Liebgott, Winters (and anyone else you'd like to do) about them seeing you dressed "like a girl" for the first time. I mean all pin up looking and everything (tastefully of course though). Maybe you had to wear army fatigues just like the rest of the guys (and of course no makeup or ability to do your hair or wash everyday) and that's the only way they've really ever seen you. But you finally get the chance to really dress up for once (you're a girly girl). I'd love to know what you see their reactions being.

Oooooo being a girly girl myself I LOVE this concept!! Easy Boys x Reader - how they react to you dressed up.

Don Malarkey:

Normally Don would just muck around with you, he’d think you’re beautiful either way but he feels comfortable with you to joke around like he would similar to how he is with the guys.

so when you walk into that pub one day all dressed up like one of those pin up girls he’d seen in the magazines? Good lord-

Eyes pop out of his head fr.

double takes- cos he’s so mf stunned like- it ignites something deep inside of his body and every single inch of his body is on fire.

I feel like he’d sorta look at you differently when you’re having a conversation, like he’d be smiling and blushing- I think he’d be stammering, maybe he couldn’t hold eye contact as often?

like he’d suddenly stop throwing jokes in your direction and actually engages in a more quieter and normal? Conversation. Like you’d probably be so confused until one of your friends tells you why you’re so nervous.

unlike the other guys, I don’t think he’d make a move, not that night anyway. He’d probably be too nervous. I think after that he’d be a little more nervous around you, maybe he’d be fearful some other guy has swooped you up before he could??? Babe Heffron:

I feel like Babes reaction would depend on if he’s had a few to drink or not. But let’s say he’s sober?? We’ll set the scene in Austria, you finally have access to pretty clothes and makeup again- which you missed so dearly throughout the war.

slowly you’re doing yourself up again, getting used to being around the men all dressed up- I think it would be super nerve wracking.

Ofc all the men notice cos their jaws are on the floor, but Babe’s mind is lost. He knows that he feels the strongest out of all of these guys, you took such good care of him in Bastogne and his soft spot for you becomes well- a big fat crush that he can no longer hide.

He takes some hyping up from Ramirez and whoever else before he scurries up besides you, walking as smoothly at he can, looking all handsome in his uniform.

“Hey y/n.”

“oh hey, Babe!”

“you look real pretty y’know.”

then it would be your turn to be a blushing mess, he’s grinning towards you with a sparkle in his eyes, and although he’s nervous the genuine desire and longing for you is obvious.

“Thank you, Babe! You look real good in your uniform too.” He doesn’t expect you to throw a compliment back so for a second he’s turned away from you with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Yeah well, ya’ hair looks real nice too.” The boys deffo told him to compliment your hair and your eyes- and that’s what script he sticks to at first before growing enough confidence to genuinely compliment everywhere else on your face (and body??)

Ur bum looks real good in the dress you were, and if Babe thought you were beautiful in your army fatigues, oh my goddddddd-

Babes just a sucker, he often looks stunned and in awe of you- because that’s what he would be, real complimentary to the point you have no option but to just kiss him.

plus at the end of the night when you two have spent some time together, he loves to twist his finger through the loosened curls in your hair.

Chuck Grant:

Probs one of the men that giggles and woops at you when you walk into the small pub the troops have taken over in Holland.

ofc it’s all fun and games they’re ur friends and by no means are objectifying you.

but anyway Chuck is all amused at first, but his smile slowly fades when he feels the fluttering of his heart and stomach and oh fuck- he’s in love with you.

he knew it before, but now seeing the way all these men are looking at you in your pretty dress with your hair and makeup all done- noooo, he has to make you his there and then.

“Later, suckers.” He’d take a last swig of his drink before carrying it in his hand, sliding away from the table and approaching you. At first he’s oozing with confidence, hyped up from his cheering friends, but when he actually gets close and sees your red painted lips smiling up to him he’s a gonner.

“Uh hey… can I sit?” He awkwardly spokes, it’s a little funny but you’d find him so cute and ofc he’s fucking handsome asf so you oblige.

Accidentally stares in awe when you’re topping your lipstick up.

“You want some?” You’d tease and his lips would pull into a charming smile. “Yeah, but not from the stick.”

oooo the flirtation would be on the second he gets a little buzzed from the alcohol, you’re clearly flirting back and not to sound rude because it’s obviously consensual- but Grant can’t keep his hands to himself.

seriously he’s never seen your body so…. Tight? Like your outfit is still modest but hugging you in all the right places, if you move onto his lap at some point in the night he’ll probs get a boner.

deffo goes back to his bed that night with a smirk and red lipstick stains everywhere.

Shifty Powers:

Ugh shifty, shifty, shifty, where do I start?

yeah he’s super respectful and sweet, we all know that, but he deffo has a smart side to him. Let me explain.

when you walk into that ‘pub’ in Austria, all dolled up, he’s smirking and hiding behind his cup, eyes roaming a little too far down your body than he intends to.

he’s love struck, like he already knew you were the most beautiful thing on this planet, but now you’re a god damn Angel.

but when you’d come to sit with him out of all the other guys, again, he’d be smirking behind his pint glass.

“Y’know you look real beautiful, Y/n.” He’d give you the most genuine and kind compliment you’ve received all night, he’d hook his arm around yours to walk you somewhere, ugh he’d probably come across really calm??

I do think Shifty would be sweatinggggg, like boy he’s nervous on the inside, and when you clasp your hand with his he’s gulping.

not to sound crude, but he probably hasn’t seen a woman in a while, not one as amazing as you- so he gets a little hot and bothered when your hand runs over his shoulder.

he’s not one to be too forward, I think he’d be more traditional so he wouldn’t necessarily make a move on you- but he’d tell you how he feels there and then.

being honest he wants you soooooo bad, he feels the ache in his chest even just glancing at you. Plus, Shifty can tell you’re glowing both inside and out, he’d probably pick up on that and make you swoon like you’ve never before.

Joe Liebgott

Listen Joe has been knowing ur attractive for a realllllll long time. Like im talking since Toccoa and all.

But nothing comes of it so he treats you like his little sister, like similar to Malarkey he’d joke around with you, ruffle your hair- he likes that you’re not afraid to get dirty and have a little fun.

like he’d probably rugby tackle you (gently?) because he knows you’re so just down to earth and cool.

so he hold off all the compliments or what not and his flirtation is more through playfulness?? Like you just have a bond and he fucking loves ya- he tells you all the time, but all of a sudden you walk in looking like a fucking pin up model and he gasp- loves you in a way that isn’t so… platonic?

uhhhh Joe’s shifting in his seat, eyes fixated and mouth slightly hung open. Has to tense his jaw and blink away just so nobody see’s him looking like a creep.

doesn’t know how to act around you?? Like he’s acting all nervous and awkward because you’re so fucking beautiful and done up and god, all the men want you in there.

tries to be mean as a form of flirting, but that doesn’t work- it goes badly wrong so he ends up chasing you out of the pub, grabbing at your waist.

“Hey, y/n, slow down. I didn’t mean it like that!” “Then how did you mean it, Joe?! You think I look tacky!” “No I don’t! I really don’t!” He kinda laughs again and you attempt to shrug him off but uhhh he get carried away and the feelings just fall out his mouth. “Truthfully-” “shut up, Joe.” “No, truthfully, I think ya look gorgeous. Like shit doll, I think I’ve fallen in love with ya.”

The admission is only followed by more and more and he blurts out how nervous you made him feel- his ability to express emotion all these years later surprises you and you’d just kiss him so quickly he almost stumbles off his feet.

tells you you should dress up more often like that for him.

Dick Winters:

Ummmmmm probably already with you?? Winters has seen you all dressed up before but after a particular long time of seeing you struggling, he’s in awe to see you looking so radiant and happy.

watches from afar with the most loved up feeling ever, he’s extremely secure in your relationship, yet still oogles in utter awe from you.

has to put up with the other men (they don’t know about your relationship) staring and gawking, he legit has to close Babe’s mouth for him??

but seriously, he just smirks when he sees you laughing at the men’s advances on you cos he knows he’ll be the one in bed with you that night.

and you are ugh- he’s so amazing and can’t get over how perfect you looks, he even asks you to leave the dress on when you’re doing the deed 🙈🙈.

“I’m so glad I’ve got you all to myself.” He’d mutter whilst you’re wrapped up in his arms, hair and makeup slightly frazzled. “Me too, I couldn’t cope for a minute longer not speaking to you out there.” “And all of them gawking at you… I mean who can blame them, you look absolutely beautiful.” Lewis Nixon:

Ummm what the fuck? He’s amazed? Jaw is dropped and he has to put his glass to one side whilst Dick pushes his jaw closed for him.

“is that Y/n?” He’d squint, “as in our Y/n?”

wastes no time in getting to know you and sit besides you, it’s not like you two haven’t talked before, but you’ve never really been close or had the chance to be. Now, the war in Europe is over and Lew is divorced, it opens new opportunities- hence why he comes and speaks to you.

a little Dutch courage never did no harm, and in Lewis’ case it began a beautiful relationship. But holy fuck- he’s in complete shock at how beautiful you are, your hairs pinned up to perfection, your makeup is highlighting every feature of your face so perfectly.

you should best believe that your lipstick will be smudged over his thumb and lips later that evening, cos Lewis isn’t one to waste any time…

[sinfullyrosey]

Bobbing for Apples

Epel Felmier X GN!Reader

Warnings: Blowjob, Bath Sex (orally only)

Congrats, you’re Vil’s cousin in this fic for the sole purpose of pissing Vil off even more! Also, I had originally wrote this up with a male, crossdressing Reader in mind, making the bath scene less awkward, but changed it to gender neutral since no pronouns or physical traits are given.

All Characters are 18+

Laughter rang out at one of the more secluded spots of the Pomefiore Dorm as two figures were playfully giving chase. It had just rained and cleared up, leaving behind a fresh, crisp scent in the air and rain puddles scattered throughout the cobblestone pathways and grassy patches. Some of these very puddles comprising of not just leftover rainwater, but dirt that mixed into a slurry of soupy mud.

Mud that was now covering both you and the little apple farmer as you threw balls of the brown muck at each other in an impromptu mud fight. It had started with the two of you just going on a walk together, out getting some fresh air as Epel showed you around, your cousin being too busy with dorm duties to do so himself.

Only for it to turn into an outright brawl after you jumped into one of the puddles, splashing some of it onto the boy’s poor uniform and sending him into a tizzy at what his dormleader would do if he saw it. You merely laughed it off, poking fun at his rather cute, frustrated expression. In retaliation, he scooped up a small amount of mud and threw it at you, knocking your sunhat clear off.

You gasped and puffed your cheeks as he held back laughs. Narrowing your eyes, you bend down to retrieve your hat, filling it with mud, and unassumingly walking over to him. Before he could ascertain what you were up to, you quickly flopped the hat onto his head, showering his lavender locks in liquidy brown.

And while he was still reeling over what you had just done and trying to process his emotions, you grabbed onto either side of the hat’s brim and pulled him into a deep kiss. His powdered cheeks darkened into a bright red, resembling little apples. You pulled away and smiled at him.

Only for him to smirk and take your hat off to shove it back onto you, mud seeping into your own now messy locks.

And it all went downhill from there.

What was just supposed to be a simple tour of the dorm, now became an outright war between you, the relative to the Schoenheits and him, the reluctant Pomefiore student. Both were an absolute mess, hair tangled and sticky with clumps of mud. Some of his and your makeup had since started to run off. You even forgot about your hat in the scuffle.

Taking in his disheveled appearance, you couldn’t help but cover a hand over your mouth to stifle the giggles.

“Haha, if only Vil could see you now.” You teased, now settling down and looking for your discarded hat.

Epel froze up and gawked at the flippant audacity of your jab.

“Don’t even joke ‘bout that! If Vil saw how mussed up we are right now, he’d have a cow!”

“More like a whole barn.” You deadpanned.

The little Felmier blinked at your weighted retort before bursting into a laughing fit. His head flung back as the slew of chuckles escaped past his wide grin. You grinned and joined in, letting out muffled giggles of your own. An absolutely blissful moment shared between the two of you.

“Epel! Y/N! What in the name of Pomefiore are you two spudlings doing?!”

The both of you jumped at the all-to-familiar voice of the blond queen himself. You both looked over to see Vil stomping his way over to the two of you, a stern, disapproving scowl on his usually pristine face.

“Oh no…” Epel mumbled out, mentally preparing for the earful he was about to receive.

Also concerned, but significantly less so, you gently picked up your discarded hat and brushed off the mud and grass, now clutching the brim in your hands as your older cousin stared you and Epel down.

“Vil, we were ju-“

“Hush now sweet potato. Epel, how dare you act in such an uncivilized manner and drag my own cousin into your uncouth nonsense! Just look at you, you’ve ruined, and quite possibly stained, your uniform! Your makeup is just too dreadful to look at! You’ve got mud and Sevens knows what else in your hair! And you-!”

Vil now turns his attention to you, eyes blazing with dissatisfaction and judgement.

“Look what you’ve done with your dress! Your brand new, elegant dress is ruined! Covered in mud and soaked all the way through! Do you know what material that dress is made from, Y/N?!”

You both looked down in shame and embarrassment.

“I’m so disappointed in you both.” He sighed. “Now you’ll need to be scrubbed down to get that gunk and grime off you. And then I have to reapply your makeup and redo your hair all over again…“ He trailed off, mentally having to check off all the tasks he’ll have to do to make you two presentable again.

Epel’s face flushed at the comment about being scrubbed down, knowing the implication behind it, being all-to familiar with the extent of Vil’s methods. He stole a glance at you to see your unaware, still ashamed frown. He looked back up at Vil, gulping.

“You… you do mean that we’ll be bathing separately, right..?”

Vil crosses his arms, eyebrow quirked up, and gave a Look.

Epel’s face darkens.

“This is just embarrassing…”

Epel grumbled as more warm water was dunked onto his head, cascading through his hair and down his face. The stream of water dripped into the tub, painting the water in a light brown from the dirt and other residue. His head was gently yet forcefully tilted up.

“Keep your head up Epel. You’re going to get mud in your eyes.”

Another dunk of water before the shampoo was applied, the scent of honey and apples not lost on the young Felmier. He could only sigh and pout as manicured fingers massaged their way through his tangled, curly locks, lathering it more and more.

“I’m a grown ass adult. I don’t need anyone bathing me.” He mumbled.

“Language.” Vil scolded, sitting next to the rather large tub, sleeves rolled up while he scrubbed all the dirt out of the younger male’s hair.

The whole ordeal was embarrassing enough, with Epel being stark naked in front of not only his dormleader, but now his friend-turned-crush-turned-‘possible romantic partner?’ After all, you did kiss him on the mouth earlier, so that’s got to count for something, right?

You sat in the same tub as him, though at a distance, back turned to him as you washed your own hair while Vil washed Epel’s. You were also bare, but with all the suds from Vil’s bubble soap acting as a barrier, it’s not like either of you could see each other. Epel snuck a glance your way in an attempt to gauge your reaction to all of this, only to have the same hand from before roughly grab his chin and turn it away from you.

“Eyes forward, Felmier. Don’t even try to sneak a peek at my little cousin.”

“I wasn’t-!”

“Hush. And that means you too, Rook.” Vil warned.

A brief shuffling was heard from the bathroom doorway before going silent once more.

Vil tilted Epel’s chin up once more and dumped another cup of water onto his head to rinse it. Once the dormleader had finished cleaning the last of the mud from his dormmate, he checked to see if his cousin had finished before preparing to take his leave.

“I’ll give you two some time before we move onto the rest of the routine. I’ll be getting things ready and set up, so don’t dottle too much!”

And with that, Epel and you were finally alone to relax.

Shyly, Epel tried peeking over at you again to see you just finishing up rinsing your hair. You were still facing away from him, but he caught a glimpse of bare shoulder and got too nervous, turning his head away. The bubbles may hide yourselves from each other, but the thought of being so close while exposed still sent the poor boy’s heart racing.

The memory of you kissing him earlier played on repeat in his head. How you had pulled him close with such confidence, without hesitation. The feeling of your soft lips against his and how it took his breath away. The sudden spark that ignited in his head, sending off a slew of fireworks for the briefest of seconds.

“You should probably pull the stopper out so the water can drain.”

He was broken away from his daydreaming, processing what you had just said. The stopper? Drain the water? Oh, the tub’s stopper, right, you and him need to get out and dry off before Vil scolds you two again.

He pulled the stopper out and put it aside, then looked around for where Vil left your towels, to see them on the countertop. The countertop that was out of arms reach. Meaning either you or he would have to get out of the tub to grab them, leaving either exposed to the other.

His face flushed again.

“Dagnabbit…” He muttered under his breath.

Maybe he could use the remaining soap bubbles to cover himself and quickly grab a towel for himself, then toss you the other one? Or maybe you could grab your own towel while he looked away? But what if you thought he was just trying to be a creep and sneak a peek while you grabbed your towel? What if you called for Vil and he got his ass handed to him for trying to perv on his cousin?!

“Hey, Epel.”

At the soft call of his name, he instinctively turned to you, only to come face-to-face with you, a mere inch from his face. Your noses were nearly touching and your eyes were looking at him with lidded adoration. When did you get so close?!

He didn’t have time to question as you leaned your body closer, grabbing onto the side of the tub to steady yourself. A familiar twinkle of mischief sparkled in your eyes as you grinned at him.

“Do you want to have some fun before we have to deal with Vil?”

Mind racing, his face felt even hotter at the suggestion, unable to believe what he was hearing. Surely you couldn’t mean what he thought you meant? Surely he was just projecting! There’s no way the cousin to the Vil Schoenheit wants to do that with him, and in such a place so close to said cousin!

“What kind of fun?”

Your grin widened as a hand carefully reached down and he nearly jumped as it came into contact with his semi-hard dick, still submerged in the remaining water. You palmed at his member, fondling his balls and pumping along the length, making him harden under your touch. He bucked his hips, splashing some of the water and making you giggle.

“The kind that would make Vil pop a blood vessel and ruin that pretty face of his if he ever found out.”

That got his attention.

You tilted your head, lazily stoking his dick while you waited for an answer from your partner in crime. Hazy blue eyes looked at you, then towards the closed door, seemingly contemplating, before finally looking back at you. This time, he matched that sparkle in your eyes and smirked in that same way that made you fall for him in the first place.

He suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you in for a messy kiss, much like how you did before, catching you off guard and making you near topple onto him.

Guess that was an enthusiastic yes.

Epel watched, memorized, as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. Your mouth swallowing down the full length so easily, lips wrapping around his girth and cheeks hollowed out to make room.

He couldn’t help but to stare at you, even when your eyes caught his gaze. They were half lidded and drunk from sucking on his hard length. They looked almost glassy, like a porcelain dolls, beautiful irises unfocused with a few tears gathered at the corners.

You smiled around his cock, tongue licking the underside and lips slurping noisily. Your hands were busy fondling his balls, gently massaging them and raking your manicured nails to elicit twitching from his member. You gave a suck before popping off his member to properly speak.

“You taste so sweet, Epel. Like apples!~” You slurred, looking up at him with pure adoration and lust. You licked off some of the precum from the tip and chuckled when it twitched once more. “I could just eat you up a~all day.~”

Pride swelled in his chest as the young farm boy couldn’t help but smirk giddily. Knowing that he was that attractive, that you’d be willing to get down on your knees and blow him all day, was a huge boost for his ego, especially considering your status. His dick was just too good to pass up, a true mark of manliness!

‘Ha! How’s them apples, you pompous asshole?!’ He mentally jeered while you continued to slurp all over his cock.

With his newfound confidence, Epel grabbed at your still soaking wet hair, and pushed you down onto his cock, properly deepthroating you. Your eyes blew wide from the sudden intrusion poking at the back of your throat, making you gag and sputter around him. The tightening of your throat egged him on as he began to roughly bob your head along his length. All the water was drained by this point, offering him more room to position himself and you so that he could use your mouth like a proper fleshlight (without drowning you by accident).

He harshly thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly while you tried to keep up. The audible sounds of squelching and slurping echoed in the bathroom as a few tears fell and ran down your cheeks. You can’t recall ever being treated so roughly before, like you weren’t made of glass and could break at the slightest touch. It was all just so messy and rowdy and thrilling..!

His thrusts started to become more irregular and slow, focusing on being more precise and deep. His grip on your locks grew tighter and he held you close as he gave one last thrust, pushing his dick as far as it’d go. You felt him twitch and suddenly, tasted the burst of a wave of hot, creamy fluid rush into the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow.

You sputtered, unprepared as some stray semen squeezed past your lips and drip onto the tub, mixing in the soapy suds that had yet to dissipate. He held you in place until he was sure that he had completely emptied in you. Only then did he finally let go and lean back, allowing you to slip his dick out with a noisy pop.

Panting, trying to catch his breath, Epel looked down at you to see your flushed face and open mouth dripping with his sticky release. Your eyes looked glazed over, lidded as they stared up at him tiredly. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of you.

You looked completely fucked out and if it was the hottest thing Epel has ever seen-!

Too lost in his daydream, he hadn’t noticed you lavishing his cock in attention once more, warm mouth sucking and lapping up the stray cum. After cleaning him up, you finished him off with a kiss on his reddened tip and smiled up at him. He gave a crooked smile in return.

“Better hurry and get dried off. Vil’s probably impatiently waiting for us.”

Oh, right, he had completely forgotten about that. Ugh, back to the same old grind…

The two of you made quick of drying off, brushing through your hair, and cleaning up any evidence left behind from your activities. Once you were both dressed and presentable, you made your way out of the bathroom and towards where Vil had everything set up and ready to go. Vil looked displeased and impatient but gestured for the two of you to sit down.

Epel nodded and did as he was told, but as you two made your way over to the seating, you leaned close to his ear and quietly whispered, so only he could hear.

“Next time, I’ll let you put it in me.~”

You giggled at his flushed face and gave a quick kiss to his cheek, making him grow even redder. Vil scolded you for such action, but you simply ignored him and sat down prim and proper. Epel shuffled his way over to sit next to you, gaze facing the ground in embarrassment and secret pride.

[cleewii]

rating: m for mature

warning(s): suggestive content, 18+, sub!bakugo, dom!gn!reader, brat taming, marking

wanna fuck KATSUKI like he’s a good boy…

except, he isn’t one.

always has to make it so hard. biting, and scratching, and clawing, and growling—baring his teeth as a reminder that he’s more than willing to dig his canines into your skin. his tongue laving over the marks on your neck, fingers brushing across the long, angry, red lines down your back. it’s a bunch of bravado. he’s all bark and no bite—but still, he makes a show of his defiance, will never make it easy for you because there’s something about that firm hand of yours tugging on his collar, pulling him in every which way, talking him down until all of his fight is gone, that he lives for.

god, how he aches for it. it’s a need that crawls up from the back of his throat and manifests in every snide remake, every test of your patience, and feeds on that look of promise in your eyes.

“yeah? what’re you gonna do about?”

“jeez, katsuki.” you sigh, running your hands down his bare chest, the tickle of the fuzz trailing down his naval leading your touch lower, and lower. “how come you can’t make it easy for me, baby?”

he bites back a hiss when the palm of your hand ghosts on top of the tent in his pants. you can feel the heat of him beneath the thick fabric and you know what he wants, but just as he wants to make it harder for you, you’ll make it harder for him.

“y’could just be good for me. i’ll touch you however you want—all you gotta do is ask.”

and it’s tempting. so tempting, in fact, there’s this voice in his head telling him to give up and let you take the reigns.

wouldn’t that be nice? wouldn’t that be fun? just sit still and take what you’ll give to him without complaint, and he knows you’ll fuck him stupid, you don’t even have to promise him that. it’s your smile in his mind, and your hands on his skin, and he can already imagine just how good you will make him feel, if he only just let you.

but he’s always liked it rough. liked it mean.

“not a fuckin’ chance.”

“fine.” your other hand, where it had once been toying with the waistband of his sweats, tracing loving patterns into the gray fabric, finds purchase around his neck. not hard, there’s not enough pressure for it to muck him up in that familiar way, but your thumb just slightly presses into the column of his throat, and he languishes with it.

katsuki will come around eventually. just takes some time, patience, and a little bit of cruelty, but soon enough he’ll whimper, whine, and beg like the good boy he can be.

“have it your way, then.”

[kewpikayo]

Hi guys!! Happy Halloween to you all!! I am so excited to have been a part of this event! I have literally had a blast writing for this and getting to make friends with everyone involved. Just to hold witness to their skill, drive and dedication to their chosen craft is breathtaking and I count myself honored to know such moving, beautiful people. I am thankful, from the bottom of my heart, for you all and I can't wait to binge read every single one of your fics and feast upon every art piece made! I dedicate this first chapter to the lovely @dewdropdinosaur, the amazing @xalygatorx, and the magnificent @chefskjssart. I also want to mention all of the lovely people I have met due to this event and everyone from the Helluva Watchparty server! Thank you so very much @fraugwinska and @macabr3-barbi3 for coming up with and hosting this event!! Also a HUGE shout out to @fraugwinska for creating my banner for my story and for creating the gorgeous poster for the event!!! You are amazing~! With that being said, I do hope you all enjoy the story! You're in for a ride for a couple of chapters haha. Have fun and stay tuned~! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Your at Chapter 1: Team Player: WC: 4,077

Chapter 2: Left Hanging

Chapter 3: Burning Alive

Summery: Two strangers, good with their hands, one with machines and the other with knives, are desperate to escape the Entity's grasp. You need Alastor more than he thinks he needs you. When you propose a deal, however, it is an opportunity the radio host can't seem to pass up. Maybe with a promising partnership, the two of you might just make it out of the trial alive. Only time will tell if teaming up will have been a useful endeavor... Or not at all...

"Partners...?" Human Alastor x reader

Warnings & Tags: Reader is a survivor, no use of Y/N, Reader has a nickname, Alastor is a little shit, Asexual Alastor, Violence, Blood and Violence, Injury. minor character death.

Improvisation was a necessary skill and was considered, by the general public, a practiced talent that so few possessed; let alone could master. For a radio host, it was a skill that was often expected and anticipated. Having the ability to breeze through topics of discussion and flight of the audience’s fancy with simplicity and ease was envied. 

To be expected, it was an ability that Alastor was exceedingly proficient in. However, he was never one to appreciate improvising with the absence of his favorite tinkering tools…

With great irritation and a brief, sharp snap of bone, Alastor’s second target that evening had become his most recent victim; the body lifeless within seconds of his bold hands clutching around the poor brute’s throat. As dust returns to dust, so too did the corpse of his target fall limp; greeting the mud below with a dense, subdued thud. 

Never before had he been so disappointed in acquiring a kill in all of his existence.

It was honestly such a bore, and terribly anticlimactic in nature, that it had the demon yawning. Barely any exertion was needed on his part as he dropped down on one knee and pilfered around the belongings of the newly deceased. With a sigh he noted the absence of blood his kill had presented him with an ample amount of dismay. The pitiful fight his victim had given him was easily comparable to the emptiness of the broken vessel’s pockets: sad, sparse and leaving much to be desired. Such a waste.

What a forgettable experience…

Finding no object of his desires within the austere expanse of the other male’s personal inventory; Alastor resumed his previous posture and continued his merry way through the muck dredging up underneath his hunter’s boots. 

At least this strange place, the darkest marsh he had ever had the privilege to traverse, had allowed him the luxury of supplying him with comfortable, familiar footwear. The kind Alastor wore in life, that is. The custom red and black oxfords he usually sported would do him no good in these wet conditions.

Interested in procuring a blade for himself, Alastor carried on with his measly hunt. His cream colored shirt sleeves were rolled up pristinely to his elbows to fight the humidity in the air. His tan skin was the only part of his body covered in nakedness. 

The radio host proudly, but cautiously stalked amongst the cat tails, fluff from the plants clinging to his jeans. Complaints and curses alike were softly hissed beneath the confines of his practiced grin as he wiped sweat from his brow. He peeled the plant based affections from his clothing; tremendously irritated that his search so far had not been fruitful.

As Alastor sauntered forward, the occasional chirping of  crickets and birdsong died away; producing an extreme sense of urgency into his bloodstream. The feeling clawed its way up his spine, delicate shivers dancing on his dark skin; but for the life of him he could not understand why.

However, he received his answer for the foreign feeling  upon hearing a chorus of feminine terror.  The continued abrasive treatment of his low vocal range and vocabulary immediately ceased at the sound. The echoes on the wind brought the sweet melody to him;  music that was slowly drowned out by curses and shouts of the resistant sort.

Making his way towards the source of the cadence he enjoyed, Alastor was met with quite the sight. A cloaked fellow with a peculiar mask had a scrawny looking female hung from his shoulder; fighting every second she was in the other individual's grasp. 

The voice belonging to you, a captive little lady, bloomed into yet another tantalizing scream as you were lifted up and  placed onto a hook like contraption. Metal violently tore into flesh, ripping sinews and muscles apart to conform to the shape of your body as you were left to dangle helplessly. Crimson torrentially dripped from your fresh wound amidst panicked cries. 

The fresh blood produced by your harrowing experience awoke the  tell-tale signs of Alastor’s hunger, his growling stomach sharpening his senses to the utmost degree. 

Of course, now was not the time to be thinking of breakfast. Curse his human guise and its continuous need for sustenance…

Alas, although very much entertaining, the show given to him was not what had insnared his focus. Surprisingly, the reflection of the blade held within Alastor’s target’s grasp had him pleasantly distracted. His mind ran in circles, plotting to procure the tool the other was using for himself.

Noticing your screams had silenced themselves to nothing but faded, pained whimpers; you had finally managed to acknowledge his presence amongst the cattails and behind miscellaneous boxes and crates. 

He put a finger to his upturned lips in silence as his eyes bore holes into your skull with just his stare alone; willing you to cease your current noisiness. He was pleased when you returned his gesture with a subtle, inconspicuous nod and looked down, feigning defeat. Good. You and your sweet, but damnable, chirping would not spoil his fun. With certainty, he would not allow his hunt to be ruined. 

With meticulous effort, Alastor’s stealth was successful as his hands made purchase around his victim’s throat once his prize was within reach. In a graceful, dramatic flourish to show off for his lovely audience, the individual’s neck was snapped in twain before much of a fight could be had. The fool was ignorant of his demise as the cloaked, masked killer slumped to the earth, lifeless and growing cold. The poor bastard didn’t know what hit him.

After his show was finished and a third kill was acquired that evening, Alastor kneeled down to inspect the object of his covetous obsession.

The blade he had desired ever since waking up on that deserted, modern steamboat was finally within his careful grasp; dripping fresh scarlet into his palm as he inspected it closer. No doubt the liquid belonged to you, the lovely lady of the hour he ignored, who still dangled precariously from the iron hook above his head.

Alastor continued his efforts in silence, standing to his usual impeccable posture as he cleaned the pilfered knife on his jeans. He brushed the blade against his trousers until it gleamed brightly under the nearest lanterns hanging from the power lines overhead. It was still terribly dark to be considered mid-morning; but at least the faint mist from the swamp gathering around his ankles was able to provide ample cover.

Seeking to return to the shadows, Alastor secured the blade in its sheath along his belt before taking a few steps away. His attempts were met with quite a bit of resistance. An  incredulous sigh left you only to be followed by grumbles of frustration. 

“Um…Hello? Still very, very stuck here…I, um…I could use a little help…”

Right. You were still present.

Alastor paused to turn his head and peer at you over his shoulder. Despite his permanent grin, the look he granted you was one of absolute disinterest. He calmly observed you, making no attempt to retrieve you from your painful perch.

The two of you continued your tacit stare down until you shook your head and looked away. With an irritated huff, you spoke through gritted teeth as you immediately rescinded your request for assistance 

“You know what? Fuck you…I’ll just do it myself…”

Alastor turns to face you fully as he folded his arms, intrigued by the colorful vernacular you decided to spat his way. Rude as you were, it was rather interesting to watch you fumble around on that hook. It was very much akin to a caught fish longing for the relief the river could provide.

A surplus of other vibrant curses and varied complaints tumbled from your lips as you reached up to grasp the hook. You paused to catch your breath; your teeth gritted in preparation for the agony to follow.

With zero amount of finesse and a great deal of clamor in your voice, you proceeded with your attempts in dislodging the hook from your shoulder.

However interesting and delicious the bloody spectacle was, it was painful to watch. It was terribly irritating to see how many times you struggled. Several minutes passed by before you managed to successfully set yourself free with a deafening yelp and an unharmonious fumble. Blood painted the wet earth deep maroon in your burdensome descent.

“So… Do you actually ever…Y’know… Help anybody? Or do you just…’Tend to ignore everyone who addresses you?”

Breathless and struggling to take in air, you were hunched over on your knees. You hadn’t moved from where you had fallen as you looked up at him with exhaustion and a furrow of your brow. Your free hand clutched to the gaping, bleeding wound in your shoulder.

What a sight. Still, your defiant tone was something he didn’t appreciate. 

The radio host adjusted his red suspenders that had fallen from his shoulders as he looked over to you. His grin was a sneer as his subtle dark curls obscured one of his amber eyes. Would he even attempt to humor you with a response or rebuttal?

…Perhaps this once.

“…Only if it’s worth my time.”

Alastor watched as you instantly became mute, obviously processing the offense his words supplied you. Your nose scrunched up in frustration as you chewed the inside of your cheek. You reached for your forgotten, dingy baseball cap on the ground and donned it with a huff. There was a pause before any more words greeted him.

“Well, my life, as well as what I have to say, is certainly worth more than a few measly minutes of your time… I have a plan that you might be the type to appreciate. That is if you can manage to pull your head out of your ass long enough to actually listen…! ”

Alastor’s eye twitched. Who did you think you were to address him with such hostility? Where did you get the audacity? Hadn’t he saved you enough from nearly being killed regardless? The thought only made Alastor’s blood boil. He gripped the blade in his grasp tighter. Such an ungrateful little soul…

“…I think I shall be the judge of that.”

The magnitude of his sneer was heightened as the radio host regarded you. An incredulous chuckle escaped the confines of his strained smile.

“Besides, why would I ever wish to associate with a rude little hussy such as yourself, hm? You’ve already proved to be quite the nuisance, especially with your failed attempts at escaping harm's way. Anything you are willing to offer me I might as well do myself. At least then I’ll be guaranteed a sufficient chance of succeeding… ”

Surprisingly, his statement was met with a defeated sigh, your head hanging to the side in an attempt at composure. With your spiteful countenance before, he didn’t think you would give in so easily. Perhaps your words were a means of deception, proving yourself braver than you truly were. What remained in front of him was the lingering, fighting spirit of a terrified, broken girl.

 Interesting.

“Shit…look. I’m not…I’m not good with apologies…and I’m sorry I cursed at you…So I guess… un-fuck you or whatever…? Also, I guess you do have a right to be an asshole…You don’t know me or owe me nothin’…”

When he didn’t give you the satisfaction of seeing his expression change, you sighed yet again. 

“…And I realize that a lot of tha time my mouth moves before my brain... But I promise…You're gonna want to hear my offer…”

With desperation drenching your features,  you tilted your head in a last attempt to get into Alastor’s good graces as you gestured towards his knife.

“...Just with seein’ ya hold that blade, I assume y’know your way around a weapon like that…And ya look like you're good with your hands. Well, I’m pretty good with mine too, so… We can, y’know… Work together to make it outta here..? Maybe…?”

So far, your attempts at persuasion were failing epically, but he would continue to listen to whatever useless drivel that fell from your maw. He always did love a good show, and the expression you were making both intrigued him and bettered his mood.

“...That is, uh…That is what ya want, right? To go home?”

A quick, dry laugh escaped Alastor’s strained smile as he admired the way your face fell at the sound. 

The only home he ever truly desired would be in the arms of a soul far out of his reach. His mother would not be found anywhere near his usual place of inhabitance. It was a moot point to ponder. There was no undoing what had been done…What he wanted he would not be able to obtain, nor was it something you could provide.

Alastor was right to ignore you before. Your words were meaningless and a waste of his time.

With no other response from him, an exasperated sigh left you.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you…The only other way outta here is by takin’ a permanent dirt nap and I, well.. I don’t plan on dyin’ today and I assume you feel the same…Sooo teamwork’s our best bet…”

Alastor tilted his head in curiosity. However trifling you were, he thought it perdinant to at least hear you out. He was being overly gracious, and if yet another phrase that displeased him came from your mouth you were as good as dead. Despite his smile’s presentation of interest, there was a deadly edge at the end of his next utterance.

“…What do you propose?”

“Well…I’m good with wires. My old man was a mechanic, so I got a lotta practice growin’ up…I digress, but it’s kinda hard to fix generators if I keep gettin’ attacked or hooked…”

Grunting, you willed yourself to a standing position, dusting off excess dirt from your mud soaked jeans. 

“...So what I’d need from you is the assurance you’ll keep everyone away from me so I can fix at least five of those gen’s. We ain’t gettin’ nowhere without them workin’ properly…”

Once again clutching your injured shoulder, you winced as you made your way over to where the demon stood. Your anguish was audible, enough to make Alastor’s mouth water despite his current dissatisfaction with your presence. He took a step back from you. You had gotten too close for his liking.

“I think we could be useful to one another..And after tonight you can rest assured you won’t have to deal with me no more…But until then, if you can just, y’know…Do what you did before with Ghostface and pick off the others, then we may actually have a shot at makin’ it outta this shit hole alive…”

You hold out your hand; a brighter, hopeful expression present under the blood and grime attuned to your visage.

“So? We got a deal, or whatever? Scratch my back and I scratch yours?”

Your gesture was met with amber eyes being narrowed as Alastor looked down at your bloody offered hand. He was quite within his rights to deny your request and be on his merry way. If he was of a better mind, Alastor might have already left you in the dust.

Still, he pondered more on your words as thoughts of freedom flooded his mind’s eye. You stated the impossibility of liberty without fixing five of the machines that were no doubt spread across the premises, so repairs were necessary. He was used to such when it came to his line of work, making his radios function like new or maintaining the upkeep of his other preferred equipment.

Still, by the appearance of your denim jacket and ripped jeans,  he surmised he had found himself in the middle of the modern era; which could only insinuate that modern technology had a hand in creating the essential items of escape. Alastor stifled a growl. Of course machinations resemblant of his arch nemesis would have a play in his supposed capture. The thought was infuriating and made his skin crawl with hatred and disgust.

Alastor had absolutely no interest in operating or learning to associate with such devices. Loathe as he was to say it, he would have to permit your continued presence. At least until freedom was achieved.

Vexing as you were, perhaps you would prove yourself useful as the night went on. Perhaps your assistance would prove an ample enough apology for the offense your prior verbiage caused. 

“Usually, I’m not one to appreciate company in my efforts. I prefer working solo, but…”

The radio host’s eyes narrowed as he bit his tongue. The shameful lowering of his pride to admit you were needed sent an unpleasant taste to the back of his pallet. The feeling made him immediately want to throw up.

“...You do have a point. Fine…I shall aid you if only for the sake of escape…”

The moments between his words and your own fueled more interesting unspoken prospects. Though sensical and practical, it was rather curious that you requested him to kill the others. It was a task he had no qualms with, but having another acknowledge his prowess with his chosen craft elevated his ego. Begrudgingly enough, your plan was brilliant and would surely succeed if he was the one behind the task.

He hoped  his little slaughter spree, now that his weapon of choice was acquired, would go smoothly and supply an efficient means of entertainment that evening…

“So… Whatdya say? Ya wanna make this official, then?...Partners?”

You gesticulated your offered hand in earnest, eager to ascertain some sort of plan for escape. Alastor quirked a brow. You must be desperate for protection if you felt the need to acquire an agreement of such without asking for the name of the fellow you were doing business with. Perhaps you just weren’t the type for much small talk, however necessary the information. Still, it was a hilarious oversight on your part. He would fix it. Promptly.

“My, you certainly are an eager beaver…But you aren’t going to ask for the name of the gentleman you are conducting negotiations with? Quite the questionable set of business practices you have there, doll…”

You rolled your eyes as you struggled to bring your other hand to prop up the elbow of the arm remaining outstretched, your shoulder exhibiting its horrendously mangled and deformed shape in your efforts. It was as if you had been to the nearest butcher and had requested to be placed on the chopping block.

“What's your name, then?”

“Why, I’m so glad you asked! The name’s Alastor. It is a real pleasure to be meeting you.”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you too, I guess…Now can we shake on it? My arm’s gettin’ tired.”

Alastor chuckled. You were certainly such a feisty little lady. Quite the character, indeed. 

At least you weren’t boring.

“I suppose you have a deal then. Partner’s it is…I can’t wait to become a team player, my dear…”

Leaning down to meet your short stature, Alastor kept his impeccable posture as he bent at the waist. Lifting his hand, he teasingly flicked your baseball cap down over your eyes with a chuckle before offering you a dark gloved hand.

You moved your hand up to lift your cap, revealing the grumpy furrow of your brows as you accepted the other’s extended palm. He could hear the audible annoyance in your voice, the sound reverting to a low grumble. It was very much resemblant of the incessantly adorable noises alleycats would make. While alive, his mother insisted on feeding the disgruntled beasts, assuring more of their presence outside of their townhouse. 

The two of you participated in a single, firm shake before wordlessly parting. When you glanced down to search for something within the confines of your pocket, he takes the chance to wipe whatever remained of your blood off of his glove and onto his button up, painting the cream fabric a bright crimson.

“I suppose, however, if we plan to continue with business, might I also have the pleasure of your name? It would be beneficial to know who I am referring to should you feel the need to scream that you require further assistance…”

Unfolding a piece of rolled up parchment, you spared him but a glance as your hands made light work of their task. In your hands rested a ripped, dusty map. It looked as if it had weathered far worse conditions, but had somehow still remained intact.

“…Scout. It’s not my name, but it's what my folks call me the majority of the time. Feel free to call me that too, I guess…”

Alastor made a mental note of the interesting nickname and pondered how it was acquired while he watched you peer back down at the damaged paper in your hands. Your bloody index finger pointed at a location.

“It says here that we’re in “Blackwater Swamp”. Huh…The name’s just as bleak as the location…figures. Anyways, uhh… There's supposed to be a big boat, The Pale Rose…? Down that way…? That's where I, and most likely you, woke up…”

Glancing back up at your partner, you pointed in the opposite direction from where the two of you were facing as you jostled the map in your hands to smooth out the curling parchment. The sound your actions caused had you glancing up and over your shoulder in apprehension.

 Silly thing. There was no need for you to worry for your protection as long as he was in your vicinity. You had made a bargain, after all, and Alastor always completed his end of a deal one way or another. You were safe. 

For now.

Finally feeling more relieved there was no active threat nearby, you glanced back down at the map.

“And, if I'm readin’ this right, this map also shows where all the generators are and also the exit…Yeah, right here. Have a look.”

Pointing at the intended spot, you double tapped the page before looking up at your colleague in crime and turning the map around so that he could have a gander.

“Interesting. Who knew you had such a useful commodity in your possession. Where did you find such a thing?”

“It was just in a random box I opened when I woke up. There’s tons of that kinda shit around here. Just gotta look…”

Turning the page back to face you, you observed the guide in your hands more intently than before;  speaking with assurance of the plan forming in your mind.

“Once we’re both done with our respective jobs, we’ll meet back up at the exit and get the hell outta here. Sound good?”

The demon stood back up to his usual height as he gifted you a genuinely amused expression. With the promise of his assistance, you were certainly set in your ideals that you would make it through the night.

Alastor’s wicked grin grew in delicious splendor. How unfortunate it would be if that wasn’t the case…

“It seems we have a plan in place…”

“Yeah. Looks like it.”

Wrapping up the map and shoving it into your back pants pocket, you looked over your non injuried shoulder to address him with an urgentness in your tone, the sound intreating him to listen intently.

“Well, we best get started. Stay safe out there…Don’t do anything stupid and try not to die…Alright?”

A chuckle rumbled in the radio host’s throat at the concern igniting your expression. You were worried? For him? How absurd and endearing a spectacle. 

So the radio host was right. Your crude and classless persona was indeed the facade of a frightened girl. You should’ve been more concerned with yourself considering your current situation.  Already  you were sufficiently injured and still profusely bleeding beautiful shades of scarlet.

Alastor was certain you wouldn’t last the night. Not without his assistance.

“Oh, I can assure you that won’t be a problem; but you do the same…”

Pleased with his reply, you silently nodded as you did your best to cautiously duck and hobble behind the surplus of plywood from the deserted paddle steamer nearby. Your free hand graced the splintery surface of a broken pallet for support as you stepped over a plethora of weeds.

Just the pitiful sight of you retreating had the curvature of Alastor’s lips upturned. Things had indeed proved to be rather intriguing…

[corysmiles]

Giant Astarion/ Tiny Tav drabble

BG3 g/t, fluff, f!tav

Rating: general

Description: Astarion finds a tiny human hiding in a tree nearby their camp.

Noted: BG3 has taken over my mind so have a tiny g/t Drabble about our favorite vampire

Astarion is the first to spot the little borrower following their group around. He’d been able to smell something vaguely human while on their way to the grove from the nautilus crash but he’d just assumed it was the stink of the corpses that hadn’t survived the crash. It wasn’t until they finally had a calm night that he really took notice.

They had set up in a nice meadow nestled safely away from any major trade routes, the only sounds came from the vampire’s fellow companions and distant animals hunting somewhere in the forest. But, as everyone else sat down in a circle to eat whatever food Gale had prepared for the night, Astarion headed into the trees. They all knew about his condition at this point, and while most of them had reacted better than he thought they would, he still was relatively cautious about letting them see him hunt. So while they were busy eating whatever muck Gale could throw together with their scavenged ingredients, he snuck away into the trees beyond looking for something to drain.

He wandered for a few minutes, careful of the sound of cracking leaves under his feet, but it wasn’t long before he caught a scent…a familiar one. He couldn’t quite place it, but he knew he’d smelt it before. Eagerly, he followed its trail until he came upon an old mangled tree. It was so close he could still see the lights from camp through the trees.

He paused for a moment, listening to the small sounds of whatever was moving in the tree before darting his hand in to grab it. However, when he pulled the writhing screaming thing to his face he wasn’t anticipating to be met by the face of a person…or at least what looked like one.

“Let me go!” the tiny girl screamed, “Fuck off!”

Interesting, she knew common, he thought.

“And what exactly are you little one?” Astarion smiled slyly as he held the tiny between his thumb and forefinger. The little thing hissed and scratched at his fingers, but it was to no avail.

“None of your fucking business,” she spat, “Put me down, NOW.”

Astarion laughed softly with a condescending smirk, “That’s no way to talk to someone who quite literally holds your life in their hands darling.”

The tiny glared up at him, eyes wild before seemingly giving up, her head falling down to her chest.

“It’s a curse okay? I…ive never been stuck for this long though,” she muttered.

Astarion gifted her a sly smile in return, “Yes but that doesn’t explain why you’ve been following us now does it? I do believe I’ve smelt you before darling. You know most people that small wouldn’t choose to stay close to a vampire.”

The girl shuddered in his grip, glaring up at him intensely, “I fell off the ship too…the nautiloid. I saw your little group and felt the tadpole’s connection and well…it felt at least a bit safer to be near people, and it made it easier to actually get food.”

Astarion’s raised a brow at that, so she was one of them.

“So you’ve been stealing our things have you?” Astarion smirked, holding her a little closer to his face and showing his fangs with a smile.

The girl visually tensed up filling Astarion with a small sense of glee.

“Just little things, I promise,” she stuttered out, “Nothing big, I wouldn’t.”

Astarion laughed again investigating her closely, “Well I would assume nothing big. You’re far too small to carry much more.”

The girl simply nodded in response, the action quick and tense in his hand.

“Just…please,” she whimpered, “Please let me go.”

Astarion tilted his head as if thinking about it. Truly he had no intentions of harming her, not really. With how small she was draining her would be barely more than a snack…but he could still have some fun.

“Hmm, but I took so much time to find a meal,” Astarion said, “It would be a shame to put you to waste.”

“No!” the girl yelled as he pulled her closer to him, “I…I’m too small it wouldn’t be good, please.”

Astarion smiled down at her panicked expression and tilted his head, “Hmm, perhaps you’re right.”

The girl just stared at him, eyes wide and body tense as if waiting for him to snap at any second. His companions would surely be upset with him for teasing her, but while he was alone he could have some fun. He deserved it after all they’d been through.

“Although, I do believe if I don’t have a taste something else probably will,” Astarion said with a sly smile, “You stink you know?”

Slowly, he placed the tiny back down in the tree and raised his brows at her questioning.

“I…yes I know,” she muttered, seemingly frozen between the decisions of staying to talk or fleeing, “Usually I’m only like this for a day at most…this is…more than I’m used to. I think it’s maybe due to the tadpole.”

Astarion tilted his head curiously, “That makes sense, the tadpoles seem to be messing with everyone. Although it seems to just have made you more snack-sized.”

The girl frowned at him, subconsciously taking a step away from the giant vampire.

“Oh stop that,” he shook his head, “If I wanted to eat you I would have already darling, but as is you’re far too small to be worth it.”

The frown on the girl’s face deepened at the implications that if she was bigger he would have considered it, but she still stayed still, staring up at the giant man.

“Don’t…please don’t tell the others about me,” she forced out after a second, “It’s safer without anyone knowing.”

“Are you quite sure about that?” Astarion asked, his eyes glancing over to the camp’s lights, “If you stay here you’re liable to be picked up by a bird or rat as soon as they catch a whiff of you.”

The girl shrugged, her expression tight, “I just…Maybe the curse will stop soon. I hope at least…I don’t want people seeing me like this.”

Astarion looked her up and down and frowned, in a way it reminded him of when he was still stuck under Cazador’s power. He hated being seen like that too, although he hadn’t had much of a choice in the matter.

“Very well then,” Astarion shrugged, “Try not to get eaten dear, I don’t want to find out what happens if some beast gets a tadpole in their system. And if you change your mind I’d never be opposed to a little tasteful company.”

He grinned with a flash of his fangs to accentuate his words as he turned from the tree with a well practiced turn. The girl frowned at him but didn’t say anything in return, just crawling back into the small hole she’d been in before as Astarion went on his way to find something else to eat.

As much as he hated it his other companions had made him soft. The tiny girl offered him almost nothing practically; however, in the smallest recesses of his mind he hoped she’d change her mind. It felt nice being able to have someone close that couldn’t take advantage of him. At her size she wouldn’t be able to do anything to him he didn’t want, although he surely could do the opposite.

However, as he hunted and finally caught a raccoon to feed on, he thought that he didn’t think he would take advantage of her. Perhaps it would be nice, just to have a friend, someone who understood being powerless.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey Player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure Skater! Fem! Reader)

Omg y’all, first I know i said I’d post this on Halloween, but… I couldn’t help myself! Second, the time has come… the last chapter😭. I just wanted to thank you all for reading and for all the support! It means a lot to me. The usual, not proofread.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Alcohol usage, mentions of cannabis, cursing, no smut but a small small smaaaall make out bit. Miguel finally learning to use his words.

Word count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 15 [Final]: Maybe I’m too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new.

—

It felt like you were in the opening scene of a cheesy 80’s horror flick. Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads was blasting through the frat house you were currently at, a red solo cup with spiked punch in one hand, and the other grabbing on to Kate’s hand while she dragged you through the crowd with a laugh, your purple cape swishing behind you as you make your way through the sea of drunk college students, all dressed up in different costumes.

Eventually you found yourself in the kitchen of the frat house, it was small and despite the only people in said kitchen being you and your group, it still felt a bit crowded but what room wouldn’t feel a bit crowded when you were tipsy from alcohol, and every room had either someone in a costume, Halloween decor, or both. You took a sip of your drink as you looked over at Xavier with an amused experience as he playing around with his collapsible staff he got for his costume, letting out a small laugh when he almost knocked over a spider decoration that was hanging off one of the kitchen cabinets, before he let out an embarrassed cough and sheepishly collapsed his staff. You knew that you shouldn’t have let Kate give him an item he could use as an actual weapon when he was going to be drinking.

You were dressed as Raven, Logan was beast boy, Kate and her boyfriend were starfire and Robin and Xiaver’s roommate who you couldn’t remember the name of was cyborg. You’ve got to admit, the cape was fun, and you were thankful that Kate didn’t force you and Logan to paint yourselves gray and green respectively. You 5 have been making your way down frat row for the past 2 hours at this point, hopping from one party to another, and were planning on leaving for the next one, but wanting to raid the candy basket and take a few beers for the road (aka, the 4 minute walk).

Tonight was great, a nice way to unwind after the absolute roller coaster of emotions you’ve been on recently, school was starting back up, skating practices have only been getting more intense as you and Logan practiced for sectionals, and you still had absolutely no idea what was going on between you and Miguel, despite the good terms you two have been on recently, you two would be relatively snarky with each other, but there wasn’t any underlying malice like there was before a few months ago. Your thought were pulled pulled out of your head and your hand was tugged and you found yourself following behind Kate and the rest of your group and you all exited through the back door in the kitchen, and makes your way to the next frat house, Logan unlocking the gate that separated the front yard with the back one.

As you entered the next party, the song Goo Goo Muck was finishing up before transitioning to The Create from the Black Leather Lagoon, both from The Cramps. Despite your best efforts, and both your and Kate’s tight grip on each other’s hand, you had found yourself becoming separated from a majority of your group and you wondered deeper into the crowd, the stench of alcohol and weed filling your senses as you felt Logan’s hand tightened on your shoulder, you had officially lost the others.

You and Logan decided to make your way up to the second floor of the house, wanting to see if there was a way to get out to the balcony that you saw on your way in, knowing that you’d get a good view of the night sky. Eventually you two did make your way outside on it, Logan leaning against the railing while you were sitting down on the floor, using your cape as a makeshift blanket to keep your ass from touching the wood. Both of you sipped on your stolen beers as you both talked.

“I think I saw your ex on the way up here.” You throw out the information to him nonchalantly, causing him to choke on his beer a bit, a hand coming up and patting on his chest to try and help regain his composure.

“Um, you-you did? Where?” He stuttered as he attempted to act normally, but you noticed as he straightened up a bit from his position against the railing.

“By the bathroom-“ you didn’t get to finish before he ran back inside, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you were left alone outside, knowing it was better to not follow him and attempt to stop him. Taking a sip of your beer, your eyes drifted back to the night sky, how you wished you could actually see the stars, but due to all the light pollution that was only a simple wish, grabbing your cape and wrapping it tightly around yourself in an attempt to help warm yourself up, mentally cursing yourself for not wearing tights as you looked up at the gray night sky.

“¿Qué estás haciendo aquí solita, princesa?” A deep voice asked you from behind you. [What are you doing here all alone princess?]

“Hey to you too, Miguel.”

A silence fell over you two, before you heard his heavy footsteps make their way over to your direction, you didn’t glance over to look at him until you saw him entering your peripheral vision. Your lips pull up to a small smirk, a hmph leaving your mouth as you glance up at him, before you finally break the silence.

“A vampire? I was expecting more from you.” You teased with a snort, causing his to scoff in response, before moving to go sit next to you, which surprised you slightly but you decided not to say anything.

“I’m the phantom of the opera, and I don’t wanna hear it from you, (Y/N). What are you supposed to be? Some sort of witch?”

“No. I'm Raven from the teen titans! Ya know, the DC character?”

“Oh, sorry. All my superhero knowledge comes from Peter and he’s more of a Marvel guy-“

“I’m more of a Marvel person too and even I know who that is!”

“Well I’m not a nerd like you are.”

“Rude! Says the one dressed as a character from a musical.” You giggled with a scoff, and it wasn’t until your giggles subsided that you realized that you’ve two gotten closer in proximity during your little back and forth. You thought, maybe it was just you and the alcohol in your system, but when you noticed the sudden shift in Miguel’s eyes, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallowed some saliva.

You both just sat there for a while, staring into each other’s eyes, neither one daring to move, afraid that if you did, the moment of tension between you both might disappear, so, for what felt like an eternity, you both just stared at the other. Eventually, you grained enough control over your body to open your mouth to say something, to say what? You weren’t sure, but before a single syllable could even leave your mouth, Miguel took the opportunity to lunge towards you and smash his lips into yours. Immediately, you melted into the kiss with a sigh, your hands going up and snaking around his neck before pulling him closer, causing a quiet groan to leave Miguel’s mouth. Small whimpers and moans escaping your lips as his rough hands landed on your exposed thighs, the goosebumps that were already forming on your legs became more prominent as Miguel slipped them down and onto your ass, giving your cheeks a firm squeeze, before pulling you into his lap. You let out a squeal as your hands drop down to his chest instead, your knees landing on either side of his hips, the thin cape of his phantom costume doing little to help cushion them from the hard cold wood of the balcony. Your head was swirling, both from the alcohol and the make out session, and it didn’t help that you could feel his bulge from where you were sitting straddled on top of him, he pulls away first, given you both a chance to grasp for air, before his head dips to begin peppering kisses down your jaw and neck.

God, you’ve never wanted this man more in your life then you did right now, and you know that Miguel was feeling the same way about you, but you both knew there was a better time and place for you to both succumb to those urges, so with a final kiss your neck he pulled away from you, you shift to sit on his thighs, both of your chest rising and falling rapidly in attempt to catch your breath. Miguel’s hand goes up to wipe some saliva and lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.

Once you were able to get yourself back under control, you cleared your throat before speaking.

“Look, Miguel. As much as I love making out with you on a bi-weekly basis, I don’t think I’m in a place, mentally for this to continue without at least knowing where we stand with each other. I-I don’t care if you only wanna be fuckbuddies, or make out buddies, or if you want to try for something serious-but I just want to know what you want.”

“I want you.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I want all of you, (Y/N). I want you to be mine, and only mine, and I wanna be yours.”

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio @minimari415

[live-laugh-lenney]

No bc george would be soooooo insanely protective over his baby girl, please do a story about george being sooo protective over his little baby girl ❤️❤️

oh, absolutely!

george adores her.

and he never thought he'd love anyone as much as he loved yn... until his little girl came into the world, with a healthy set of lungs on her, in the early hours of a friday morning. he felt his heart double in size at the sight of his girlfriend holding their newborn baby, in a hospital bed on the midwifery floor of a hospital located in just outside of the centre of london, and it was a sight he never wanted to forget.

from the moment they brought her home, snoozing in her carseat and tucked beneath a blanket with her name stitched into the corner, he was careful with everything he did; from the way he held her, to the way he laid her to sleep in her cot, to the way he picked her up, to the way he fed her. he kept a watchful eye on everyone that held her to make sure they held her correctly, informing them when he wasn't happy with how her head wasn't being supported correctly or how they were being too loud around her, and he was always very weary about those wanting to get a peek at her when they were out in the city of london... he wanted to keep her safe, wanted her to be okay, and his dad instincts were in full swing as soon as they were allowed home with her.

so when she got to the age where she was walking and, just about, talking... he was even more watchful than ever. especially when her favourite people were over.

for her second birthday, they threw her a mini birthday party in their back garden. with food, drinks and enough toys and games to keep everyone entertained and happy, and the weather managed to hold out for them, making it the most perfect day to celebrate.

"please don't throw her around like last time," george warns arthur as he stood there with his hands held up in surrender, "and don't claim you can't remember a thing. she had a big egg on her head for over a week."

"that wasn't strictly my fault," arthur insists and george rolls his eyes, "it wasn't! honest."

"george, leave him alone, for goodness sake. i'm sure he's still a bit traumatised by what happened," yn states, rounding the corner with their little girl on her hip and watching as her face lit up from where arthur was standing in the entryway of their home, "who's that, sweet girl? is that uncle television?"

"i really need a new nickname," arthur says, reaching forward and taking the toddler from her mother's hip which allowed yn the chance to move around much more easily, taking the extra weight from her side, "hello, mini clarkey."

"everyone's already here, in the garden, grab a chair from the dining room because we don't have enough out there," george closes the door as the three of them make their way through the house, aromas of meat cooking as well as spices and the smell of a barbecue filling the air, "don't go mucking around on the bouncy castle with her, too. yn insisted we had it for her birthday but i'm not so sure."

"a bouncy castle? that's a nightmare waiting to happen with us lot in the garden," arthur cackles and yn smirks in his direction, "get a few drinks in us and we'll be having more fun than the birthday girl."

george disappears into the garden, leaving yn and arthur standing in the kitchen, the toddler on his hip playing with the collar of his shirt as she wriggled on his hip.

"just ignore him, he's just being protective over her. another year has flown by."

"i'm not called funcle for nothing," arthur laughs and digs his fingers into the little girl's side, laughing when she giggled back at him, "shall we go play in the garden?"

"food will be ready soon, don't wear her out too much otherwise she'll fall asleep in her dinner."

"like father, like daughter," arthur jokes and yn snickers at him, "if you need help, give me a shout." xx