#of course he'll wake up tomorrow like well that's enough of that

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi! I thought about that Thena maybe sees his bruises that he got from falling down the stairs, when he makes himself ready for the night and is worried about him?

Maybe some soft moment?

I think it was from the teach me to love au!

"Gil."

He turned at that soft voice. He pulled his t-shirt on the rest of the way and turned on his side of the bed, "what's up, Angel?"

Thena came into the room, pushing the door closed gently behind her. She padded over to him, eyes running over him in the soft light of the lamp. "Let me see."

He almost wasn't sure what she was talking about at first, until he saw her eyes on him. As much as he might have enjoyed turning this into some teasing, maybe a little fun. He sighed.

Thena bit into her lip as he pulled his shirt off again, exposing the bruises that were forming and already starting to develop colour. "Gil, these are bad."

"I've had worse," he chuckled, but got poked between the ribs with a thin, manicured finger. "Ah!"

"I mean it," she muttered, not indulging in his attempt to laugh it off. "Gil, you could have gotten really hurt."

He frowned, turning on the bed to look at her better. She had tears in her eyes, "Thena-"

"Do you know how I started telling Druig no running?--especially with socks on?" She adjusted her legs beside her, winding out of her nightdress. "He was just starting to walk."

"You have to watch them at that age so closely," she shook her head as she remembered it. "I was still at home with him full time, but I just...I just had to run to the office for a few minutes."

Gil didn't like the sound of this, most definitely barrelling towards a story of her ex-husband.

"I told Kro to watch him, I still had baby gates up, I thought-" Thena cut herself off, pinching her eyes closed. Her whole body shuddered. "I was only gone a half hour."

Gil pulled her closer to him, nuzzling her temple, "what happened, Angel?"

She sniffled. "I came back and Druig was screaming bloody murder. I asked Kro what happened and he said he didn't know. He was in the living room and Druig was 'around'."

Gil rolled his eyes.

"Druig had gotten up enough momentum that he couldn't stop and slid right into the corner of the coffee table," she sighed, her shoulders dropping. "When I looked at his hair he even had some blood. I was angrier than I ever remember being in my life."

"I think that's understandable, Angel," Gil kissed her hair. And it sounded exactly like the Kro they knew (unfortunately).

"Ever since then I'm particularly vigilant about running, and sock feet, and especially stairs-"

Gil pressed a kiss to Thena's forehead, reclining her more in his arms so they could look at each other without hurting their necks. "I'm sorry, Thena. I knew the rule had a reason and I indulged him too much."

She put her hand on his cheek, "it's not like I never indulge it. These things happen."

He still felt bad about it.

She tapped her finger against his chin, "Gil, you protected him from something that happens to kids everyday. That is all that matters, you know."

"I know, but," he shook his head. He gave her a wincing expression, "well, maybe I was feeling a little more indulgent than I usual because of the whole-"

"Personal space."

They both laughed as they finished the collective and familiar sentence. Thena nodded, "it's been hard for you."

Gil shook his head, "it's been hard on Druig."

Thena tilted her head at him, "on you, too. You've been extra careful around him. It's hard when they're unhappy with you."

Gil nodded. She knew very well what it was like to have to be the villain based solely on making the responsible decisions. "We were having fun."

Thena smiled, kissing him gently, "he loves you."

He leaned into her touch on his cheek, "I love him too, Angel."

"He trusts you enough to ask you not to tell me," Thena offered both to help his spirits and with not that pleased an expression.

"Ah, kids do that," he shrugged, settling them on the bed more comfortably. "I guess it's good that he trusts me, still."

"He always trusted you, Gil," she leaned up and pecked his cheek as he settled her on his chest against the pillows, "he just got a little shaken up."

He chuckled; that could be said about the 'personal space' incident and the fall just today. He sighed.

"It'll pass," Thena promised him as she pulled the comforter up around them. She leaned up to kiss him again, "Druig trusts you. And I trust you, love."

[samofmine]

i have this hc that if sam and dean need to part ways for some reason or if they're away from each other for too long they won't stop texting/calling each other, to the point it annoys everyone.

like, dean will be on the car with jody after just leaving the bunker and he'll call sam and tell him something he forgot to say before they left and its obviously just an excuse and jody rolls her eyes.

"you just saw him 3 minutes ago. did you think he disappeared?"

she expects a laugh but dean becomes tense and well, okay. not really something to joke about around him. she watches him grab his phone again to send a text and she wont even pretend like it's for someone else.

or sam will be at the grocery shop and call dean to ask what is the brand of frozen pizza he usually buys (they get the same every time but he has to be sure). and then he calls again to let him know he's done and will be home in a few minutes.

dean texts him stupid jokes as well, because if sam isnt there to hear them at least he can read them and not miss out on how funny he is. sam only replies to them with lol or 🙄.

sometimes when it's the middle of the night and they are each in their own rooms and sam gets too anxious about whatever crap they're currently facing and he can't fall asleep, he calls dean to hear his voice tell him something he forgot to say or to ask a question about whatever they have to do tomorrow.

sometimes dean wakes up from a bad dream and calls sam just to remember what's real. he doesnt say anything, and sam is used to it already, so he tries to comfort him "it's okay, de. it was just a bad dream. you're okay. we're safe."

when sam has his nightmares, he's always reluctant to call dean but dean always hears him waking up, even when he doesn't scream, so he calls him instead. he never addresses the nightmares, just keeps talking about random stuff until sam's heart slows down enough

they never really got used to sleeping alone, but of course they don't go knocking on each other's bedroom door and letting themselves in. that would be weird.

they fall back asleep with their phones on their ears more than once.

[h0ney-mochi]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request Scara and how he’d react or help reader on their period? This can be headcannons or a small little one shot . Feel free to be creative with it :)

Scaramouche x afab!reader ;; no pronouns mentioned

SFW CONTENT (fem!reader / afab!reader, reader is on their period, Scara is a little confused)

Summary: Hc's/scenario of when Scaramouche finds out you're on your period. Well. You explained it to him.

A/n: sorry for the wait nonnie!! But thank you for being patient ahhhhhh... Thank you for this <33 periods suck ass, good luck to those who r on it !!!! Yeesh... starting to get back into writing, hi 🫶

In my opinion, this guy is most definitely confused at first. But once Scaramouche's got some of his questions answered, he's rather caring. As long as you don't plan on dying on him.

He's confused when he first sees the sight of you curled up, hands on your stomach. Probably asks you what you're trying to do, what's wrong with you until a few sudden thoughts occur.

You're in pain. . . ? You're in pain.

Then he's next to you in an instant, eyes darting all over you. He's asking you what's wrong again, what happened, are you dying??

He's worried, definitely. There's bits of annoyance, frustration too since, well.. for the love of the Archons, don't leave him right now.

But after maybe a few seconds, when you think you're well enough to finally respond, you speak to him. Scaramouche listens, some relief that you're.. fine..? Wait-

"..You're telling me you're bleeding— every month?"

He is still rather confused on that and so he tries to understand. Most of it. So you explain some things, cracking some jokes that the Gods must hate you if they're giving you cramps (which he does not find amusing)

You think you're done with the explanation, slightly apologizing for.. scaring him? Worrying him? And say you'll go to the bathroom for the obvious reasons.

He's still wrapping his mind around it. Decides to do more research on that, because he hates the sight of you clutching your stomach in pain.

Next day he's with you, demands you to tell him what you want. You're confused, because, well.. he can't make your period dissapear magically— so you just shrug, speaking with a nervous smile "A heating pad would be nice..? Chocolate..?"

Of course you'd say something like that. After all, he did use an hour or more of his time to figure out ways to help you. Later that day you're met with sweets that you desired (he didn't go after them, of course not. God forbid him buying sweets for you.. *buys the sweets*)

Would make tea for you. Either bitter how he likes it (if he knows you don't mind the taste) or sweet, if that's more to your liking. Despite not being keen on sugary, sweet things, he'll get it for you. If it helps.

He'll try to be nicer, since now he knows that when you're at that time of the month, you're a little different, sometimes more emotional. Doesn't entirely mean he'll drop his attitude or sassy remarks. You'll just hear a little less of them.

Probably finds out first if you've ran out of pads or tampons. You go to bed, making a mental note to go to the store tomorrow, yet when you wake up and go to the cabinet, you see the packages you needed to buy..

He doesn't admit he bought them for you. Probably says that you're forgetful, since you did say you're a little different on your period.

Scara hates seeing you like this. When you're having cramps, when you're in pain. So he hopes this will end soon.

I mean.. he's not alone since you're hoping the same!

Thank you for the order, hope it suits your taste, dear ♡

© h0ney-mochi 2023 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[nyashykyunnie]

MY TIME HAS ARRIVED!! Here another simp present from daddy Sung Jin woo.... Ahhhh!! Well my application has the yandere element because I'm addicted to this genre, sorry if it bothers you (you can remove it even though my application would lose meaning) Well then, I'm sorry for my shitty memory and stuff, since I read the manhwa 3 years ago and barely I remember a potato. So, could you make a yandere request Sung Jinwoo where he is slowly falling into his obsession and more as he rises through the ranks as a hunter until almost reaching shadow monarch? You see, the reader was his friend (sorry I'll use the feminine term) She always supported him and gave him love, however behind all those smiles and joy, (Y/N)/Reader had other problems (it's not anguish) Basically it's sung Jinwoo being a big baby trying to protect his beloved from everything hahahaha.... incidentally killing bad people and monsters as well as possessiveness involved. I'm sorry if this bothers you, to compensate I leave a drawing of denji made by me... it's not the best, bye!!

a/n: LET ME TELL YOU HOW I FREAKED OUT WHILE I VISUALIZED YANDERE SUNG JINWOO I WENT WRRRR!!! YANDERE SUNG JINWOO HAS MY HEART I LOVE HIM AS A GREEN BUT A RED FLAG JINWOO????!!!! SIGN ME UP PLEASE!!! I hope you don't mind me using Gn<33 ALSO I LOVE THE LIL ARTWORK THAT CAME WITH THE REQ ITS SO ADORABLE!!!!

Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Reader

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 009 ✦ ┆・

﹢　˖    　✦      ¸ .　﹢　 ° 　¸.    ° ˖ ･ ·̩　　 ｡　☆.     　﹢　˖    　✦      ¸ .

It was enough points when your are a friend. But the fact that you've seen Jinwoo way before he transcended as the Shadow Monarch and the world? Oh his obsession is much more concerning

Unlike the typical yanderes that looses control every once in a while, Jinwoo has great control over his emotions.

His obsession is quiet, as if it was poison.

The stronger he gets, the more manipulative he gets.

Do you notice? No. Of course you dont.

Jinwoo is so nice after all.

The best way to manipulate someone is to make them believe you're harmless.

His way of manipulating you is simple.

Jinwoo makes you rely on him. Solely on Him only.

No one else but him. Just him alone.

Perhaps he purposely puts you in danger. Not really in danger-danger.

Just... Shaking you up a little by letting monsters go your way and he swoops in the moment you're absolutely frightened like the knight in shining armor he is.

He'll comfort you. Cooing at you gently, letting you know he's just there for you.

You're fine...You're fine... Your Jinwoo is here, he'll protect you no matter what.

Don't be scared. He's here. Don't be scared.

He'll use this method. Over and over again until you are paranoid without his presence.

He's the type of obsessive lover that wants you to solely rely on him and him only.

Just him.

You know that he only wants the best for you, right? There, there.

He'l slowly put that venom into you, until you're nothing more than a paranoid, sweet little thing who only seeks to be in his loving arms.

Jinwoo isn't the direct type after all.

He'll just play you like a doll.

You know that he's only doing for you anyway.

It's for your own good.

Oh, but of course he's not only does he manipulate you.

He can be quite jealous too.

Jinwoo isn't vocal about this though. He'll just continously glare at the person who is talking to you.

He'll give them three warnings.

The First Time: He'll let them off

The Second Time: He'll start paying more attention.

The Third Time: They better enjoy their last meal.

After all, they won't be waking up tomorrow anymore

After that, he'll be a bit pouty. He'll be cuddling you gently as his mind goes dark on trying to figure out ways to make people stop approaching you.

He ponders deeply as he held you in his arms

Oh well.

He'll just has to figure that out soon.

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[monstercampus]

Harpy Professor - First Meeting

(cws: slight alcohol mention, brief lewd references)

wc: 3.5k

Last night was a mess. Priam had been out all night partying with his friends, while Antón had been rage-cleaning the apartment in a frenzy in order to have everything spotless before the first day of term. The two of them you've gotten used to, of course, but their habits still tick you off when you're not in the mood to deal with them. Priam's drunken stumble back into the dorm at 4 AM didn't help either, as your vampiric roommate got into an argument with him over leaving the living room a mess. Exams have been over for weeks, and yet the two of them still find stupid things to fight about in the heat of the moment.

And you were left to endure it as best you could, your pillow clamped over your ears for half the night and your blanket pulled down over your feet by your shadow friend–who also seemed to be quite frustrated by your other tenants and their noise, trying vainly to block out the light and seal your door in his mist to try and muffle the ruckus. Either way you weren't going to sleep, not well, so now you've stepped into your first class of the new semester with bags under your eyes and half your school supplies forgotten. Just get through it today. Tomorrow will be better.

First on the roster this morning is Monster-Human Relations–a class you knew would be small, but not this small, with barely ten or so seats filled so far in the mid-sized lecture room. There's only about five rows of staggered desks on a slope anyways, with a curved, connected desk to separate the section from the front of the class and the podium. And you're a few minutes early, so you anticipate there'll be more students filing in as they wake up from their respective hangovers or hangovers-by-association, like yourself. Being an advanced class, though, it's not going to be much bigger than this. The only reason you're even taking this class was because the professor made a request for your attendance, and gave you special permissions to attend based on your unique species allocation. And lo and behold, even so, there's a face you recognize right as you walk in the door, his piercing eyes perking up as he lifts his head at the sound of your footsteps. It's Nick. Gods you are glad to see him. He peers at you through a few loose strands of dark hair, and at the sight of you a smile flashes across his face.

"Hey," He brightens up, pulling on the back of the chair beside him to offer you a seat. "Didn't know you were in this class too." He chuckles, though your look of relief doesn't seem to entertain him enough not to notice the weight of weariness you carry in your slumped shoulders. You're quick and eager to drop your bag on the table and slide into the chair, but Nick's worry stops you in your tracks. "What's up, buttercup? You look exhausted. Why aren't you in bed?"

"Roommates kept me up," You sigh, flipping open the lip of your bag to pull out your laptop. "But I'm okay. Can't miss the first class, anyways."

"Of course you can." Nicky's grin returns as you hoped it would, but it's gentler this time. "Besides, Wellwright's a big puffball. You can pretty much do whatever you want in his classes."

"I don't wanna be rude."

"You don't have a rude bone in your body." He's not flippant about it, but he does avert his eyes as he makes his comment–although it could just be because he's scribbling the date and the course number down in his thick notebook. "Wellwright's a super sweet guy, he was my mentor in Commonspeak class. He'll love you."

"You took Commonspeak?"

"Sure did." Those pearly teeth make an appearance as he chuckles, pride swelling his chest. "Barely spoke a word when I got here. Now I'm the most voracious person you probably know."

"Voracious?" You laugh, and he joins you, though as uplifting as it is it doesn't last for very long. You're grateful for it even so, your chuckling devolving as more people filter in and drawing to a close as the door to the classroom nearly slams off the hinges.

One moment of peace turns into chaos like the flip of a light switch, a pair of huge, strong wings entering the room with a scraggly, rough-looking man stumbling in alongside them. A tornado of feathers seems to cascade over the front of the room, flying off and whipping up with the breeze as those enormous wings flap and fold in an attempt to keep their host on his feet. Both you and Nick have to grab hold of your notebook and laptop respectively just so they don't fly off the table.

"My apologies!" He squawks, arms full of books and papers that also seem to be flying everywhere as he makes his way to his desk. You spare a glance over Nick's shoulder as he checks his watch, to which he taps and mouths "late" to you to elicit another giggle.

Raven Wellwright, a harpy of considerable acclaim, is definitely a name you've heard beyond the professor hastily scribbling it up on the whiteboard. Not only is he one of very, very few male harpies known to the world, but he's also very conveniently one of a handful of experts on the field of monster and human cooperation. He's penned a library of papers, articles, and books on the subject, won awards for his aid in developmental projects and awareness campaigns, and he's even been the first monster to be welcomed into a previously human-exclusive collegiate of considerable prestige. He's a rarity in all senses of the word…a rarity that's molting his feathers all over his desk, sweat gathering at his collar as his short waves of strawberry-blond locks falling haphazardly back into place while he shuffles around.

"Right!" He bellows out to the three-quarters-empty classroom, the tak tak of his papers hitting the podium echoing off the walls like glass marbles. "What was I saying?"

"You haven't started yet, professor." Nick calls out, and although it's certainly an awkward air in the room the harpy seems somewhat relieved that he hasn't already forgotten what just came out of his mouth.

"Right, thank you Nicholas. Nicholas!" He suddenly bursts into a frenzy, a smile plastered over his glowing face and his eyes sparkling with grateful familiarity. "Nicholas will be our note-taker this term, as well as your TA! Take a bow, Nick!"

Funny enough, even confident-and-cool Nick boasts a spot of shyness and a dark flush to his ears as he's encouraged to stand, turning around to wave at your fellow students who eye him up with varying degrees of interest, all while Raven claps with an eagerness to him that lasts until your friend reclaims his seat. Whispers dominate the classroom while Raven's head is turned, though it doesn't seem like they're just regarding the scatterbrained professor and his handsome assistant–especially not when he turns back and his square glasses-framed eyes land directly on you.

"Oh," That soft puff of air could just as well be a gunshot with how loud it feels to you, Raven's lithe fingers trembling slightly as he pushes his lenses higher up on his nose. For a split second, even with Nick's comforting words in the back of your brain, a tense knot of worry tightens in your stomach as you wonder whether your presence will be met with disdain.

"H-Hello! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," And yet that concern evaporates the instant he skirts around the podium, features bright and his wings rustling excitedly as he hustles towards your desk and thrusts his hand out to yours. You barely have to hold his at all with how violently nervous his grip is, fingers clamped down so tight you can just barely feel the itch of his filed claws for nails against your skin. "Raven Wellwright, P.H.D! I'd like to welcome you to our university–it is a joy and an honour to have you here!"

With one last tight squeeze of his unusually cool hand, he pats your arm and releases you from that iron grip to scurry back to his podium. As luck would have it, all he's got prepared for today is a review of the syllabus, which soon flies by despite being peppered with occasional comments and brief anecdotes to supplement it, courtesy of a now hyper-focused prof who clearly knows what he's talking about. It's almost a little intimidating to watch him switch so quickly from anxiety to decisiveness, the nervous shakes vanishing as he briefly divulges the core topics of the material you'll be going over. It actually helps to stir you a bit from your exhaustion, though the half-smushed granola bar in the bottom of your bag also helps once he reiterates that eating in his class isn't a faux pas.

"I'm sure you're all readily familiar with the plagiarism policy and academic conduct sections as well, yes? Any questions?"

A revolution of head-nodding round the room seems to suffice, and with a quick glance at the clock by the door Wellwright rolls out his shoulders and drops his papers against the podium with a refreshed sigh.

"Well, that's good enough for me! Take an early lunch and enjoy the rest of your day, we'll start with our introductory lecture next class–oh, and could you two come to my office for a spell?" As he passes by your joint desks he gives them a tap, making eye contact with both you and Nick with a reassuring smile as the rest of the class shuffles their bookbags and lets their chair legs squeak as they get up from their seats. Your heart kicks up with a nervous thump, thump, thump, but whether Nick can smell it or hear it or is completely oblivious to it he pats your thigh under the table and nudges your shoulder playfully.

"No worries. He probably just wants to gush over you." He whispers into your ear, and with a half-smile conjured up from your dwindling pool of strength you gather your things in kind and follow alongside the werewolf as you both make your way to Wellwright's office, the path known well enough to him that he can chat your ear off the whole way there, and still make it in time to watch the professor hustle along down the corridor with his bag in tow as the two of you wait for him to unlock the door.

"Come in, come in! Take a seat–anywhere is fine–and have a snack! I've got tea…uh, somewhere! Just give me a moment.."

It's most certainly more haphazard being around him in the cramped office than it was in the lecture hall–as Wellwright hurries in and you two follow behind, Nick has to bring his hand down firmly on your head for you both to duck, just barely missing the professor's wing as it swings around and nearly collides with both of you. And with the size and strength of those muscles and that coat of healthy tawn-coloured feathers, you don't even wanna know how hard it would hurt to get smacked with one of those things.

But, oblivious to your plight, the avian totters around his office chirping up a storm while the werewolf at your side leads you–with your heads appropriately bowed under his wing line this time–to take your seats in the two plush chairs across from his spacious corner desk. Raven busies himself by the window with what looks to be a teapot on a portable burner for a minute or two, before the spout starts to whistle a familiar tune and he expertly tips it out to pour three steaming cups of fresh tea. Ginger-flavoured by the smell of it, the scent pervading your nostrils in an oddly relaxing way as he lays out each cup in front of all three of you. Curious, you watch as he takes his own seat, and notice that the arms of his chair dip towards the back for each wing to settle comfortably in the empty slots. Monster creativity truly knows no bounds, no matter how benign the design.

"-Anyways, that's quite enough about me! I'd like to know more about you." His bangs flutter over each brow as he turns to meet your eyes, not an ounce of enthusiasm missing from his gaze as he takes a sip from his cup–and proceeds to splutter and cough with a napkin pulled up to cover his mouth, mumbling in a half-lisp about burning his tongue. When you follow his lead with a giggle you make sure to at least blow on yours, and it's actually rather sweet despite the strength of the ginger threatening to overwhelm you. "I–we–are well and truly excited to have you here! I can't tell you how integral your presence will be in the pursuit of monster-human cooperation–you are sincerely a gift to this establishment, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the plunge and attending despite the odd circumstances."

Somehow–perhaps it's an effect of the tea–the mouthful of praises the professor drops are free from his usual stutters and vocal stumbling, as if the topic of you is yet another subject he can't help but be eloquently passionate about. You, on the other hand? You're not even sure what to say to that...such high praise feels uncalled for, not that it's unpleasant in nature, but that it should be reserved for someone that's actually done something to deserve it. All you really did was go with the flow and refrain from kicking up a fuss.

"I, uh…th-thank you, professor, but I really didn't do much…" You shrug shyly, suddenly wishing you could disappear from the awkwardness and hide inside Nick's jacket for comfort. But the silent moment passes not in a hollow, nerve-wracking way, because it's filled by Raven's easy smile growing into something a little more intimate, his feathers settling to lay flat as he reaches over the desk and gently clasps both hands over yours.

"You took a risk, my dear. Unsure of what lies on the horizon, you chose a path seldom travelled yet long overdue for progress. That in itself is worth a world of praise."

You knew he could be eloquent, but that…that was poetry. And could that warmth tipping his pointed ears be a blush, coincidental with how his fingers retract from touching you? Worried his touches may come off as something more the longer they linger? Or are you simply reading into things?

"Maybe I should go," Nick teases, and that thankfully eases the tension enough for you to snap back into the reality at hand–and for Raven's feathers to ruffle in embarrassment as he leans away from you just to bump his head painfully on his overhanging lamp.

"Sweet Chaos–ah, I'm fine, I'm fine!" He waves away your worry while Nick erupts into a cheeky laugh beside you, the professor's unyielding clumsiness proving too much for him to keep it all sealed in. Especially hearing a string of curses fly from such a sweet, kind-hearted man's mouth, who wouldn't hurt a beetle even if it bit him. "Before I injure myself further, perhaps I should just get to the point." He sighs with a palm pressed to the back of his head, rubbing the soreness off the fortunately very minor bump there.

"It's the MHC thing, right?" Nick pipes up, sobered from the giggle fit but still grinning from ear to ear.

"Just so." Raven nods, those cotton candy-pink eyes shifting back to you. "My dear, I have a favour to ask of you. Would you consider being a human ambassador on my behalf?"

"...Ambassador? As in..?"

"Oh, i-it's nothing too taxing! Allow me to explain: being an ambassador simply means you would be willing to speak as an individual of your species for MHC conferences. It would really just involve me calling on your opinion and presenting it to the Monster-Human Commission–most of it will just be in writing, no more than a sentence or few."

"You mean 'sentence or two', professor." Nick cuts in, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place. If you weren't mistaken, you could swear there's a glint of something fierce in the harpy's eyes as his gaze flits over to his protégé–but it's there and gone in a moment, and you try not to let the thought linger for fear of how it might make you wonder.

"Goodness! Surpassing your mentor already, eh? Maybe you should be the one teaching commonspeak, Mr. Wolf." He soon returns to the comfort of your gaze on him. "By no means is it a necessity, but it would be of brilliant use to my colleagues in the commission. Take some time to think about it, okay? There's no rush. You can start and stop whenever you please."

"I, uh…yes, thank you, professor. I'll give it some thought." Wellwright nods with a happy grin, and allows you to finish the rest of your tea with a few occasional spurts of scatterbrained conversation peppered in between. He's so courteous and well-spoken, gentle and kind…there's no wonder you've heard giggling from the harpy girls on campus when he's brought up, his dreaminess a total diamond in the rough for any self-respecting monster. An absolute gem. A-

"Hey, professor, I can't quite remember–are we reviewing interbreeding this term?"

As if burning his tongue and bumping his head wasn't enough, Wellwright balks at Nick's unforeseen question and nearly chokes on the dregs of his tea, the liquid splattering his chin with a cough that he's quick to wipe with the back of his hand. If it crossed your mind in time, and if you weren't so tired, you'd have half a mind to give Nick a pinch under the desk for torturing the poor man.

"C-Cross-species mating? Uh, ye…yes, we are.."

"Mmh. Gotcha. We've got a human this year, so maybe we can do our independent study on it? That'd be pretty helpful for your research, huh?"

What hits you right away is that he doesn't say no. Not that it's not his first reaction, but that the word doesn't even cross his lips. The slightest twinge of his brow has the harpy narrowing his eyes at the werewolf, and for a brief spell you think the professor might be humouring the exact same reaction as you were.

"Th-That would depend on the human's decision, Nick–and that is certainly not the full extent of my research, I might add!"

"Y-You, um…you study interbreeding, Dr. Wellwright?"

Your query flits out like the most timid of butterflies, curious and interested in equal measure. It must be so easy for both of them to pick up, but you can't really help it–the idea of such a sweet professor pursuing such a lewd scholarly topic is…fascinating, to say the least.

"He does. In great detail." Nick leans over to whisper into your ear, and the air in the room seems to change as Raven squirms anxiously in his seat.

"I-It's a necessary component of my research…" He mumbles, suddenly unable to meet your eyes as the heat in his face stretches to reach the tips of his pointed ears.

"So necessary." Nick adds with a shit-eating grin.

"Nicholas!” Raven finally huffs, brow furrowed and eyes dimmed of their sparkle. Oh, now he's mad. And yet, with a glance over at your companion, Nick couldn't look more enthused about the prospect. They certainly seem to be on familiar terms with how much teasing your friend knows he can get away with. Ripples start to part Wellwright's feathers like shudders, and almost under his breath, he quietly asks if you would give him a moment with his T.A–and you have never been more quick to oblige, setting down your teacup at an earnest pace before your bag is slung over your shoulder and you're soon closing the office door firmly behind you. The click of the lock echoes in the otherwise empty corridor, and though you'd like to wait for Nick out of courtesy, the hushed whispering that ensues followed by the flap of your professor's wings clues you in that perhaps it would be better to give them some…privacy.

Although, at the very least your phone buzzes before you've even left the wing, a glance down at the messages revealing that Nick's gonna be tied up for awhile, but he's alright. His words echo in your head, “Wellwright's just a big puffball”, and it loosens a pleasant sigh from your throat as you let your shoulders relax. The last thing you want is to get anyone in trouble, which you seem to do quite easily by your very nature of being human.

This class may end up being a different story though, if your professor's…enthusiasm towards the human race is anything to go by.

[tellodona]

silly little om request if you don’t mind

om brothers with an mc who tends to overheat/gets sensory issues from clothes so they just tend to walk around in their underwear, usually they’d do it in their room but this time they weren’t bothered enough to put anything on so they just like walked into the living room or something

can be male mc can be gender neutral up to you

and happy new year btw _(┐「ε:)_

i don't mind at all ! and happy new years to you as well !

the brothers with an mc who has heat sensory issues

heads up: gn!mc, slightly suggestive in asmo's (expected, really)

lucifer

he's busy as he usually is in his study, naturally, but he'd of course stand up and leave for a while to do something. maybe get something to eat or drink or make sure half of the house hasn't burnt down to the ground yet

as he exits, he passes by the living room and nods to himself when he peeks in that it's still in shape, the fire still crackling in the fireplace, you in your underwear, the couches are still there-

wait

mc, why are you in your underwear???????

he does a double take, blinks like three times

oh diavolo, you are in your underwear

he doesn't even think much how it would affect him, he's more or less concerned about you since it was a colder weather today

"mc, why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

he would confront you with the most confused face ever, but there was still a frown

be glad he was the one who found you and you're in the house of lamentation, because if lesser demons-

oh, you have sensory issues

he stops himself from talking for a while

after a minute, he nods in understanding

humans do have a different body construction, after all

but he can't just have you walking around the house in your underwear and ushers you to go back to your room

as soon as you wake up in the morning, you'd find the house a little colder, your uniform loosely fitted, and a message in the group chat about installing air conditioning

mammon

he just got home from his modeling gig in majolish, and they gave him a few bags as samples from his photoshoot

he is totally going to show them to his favorite human!

bags in hand, he trudges to your room with a wide grin

a few steps away, the door suddenly opens and you walk out

he was about to greet you when he looks down

oh his face is red

"MC!!!!!!!! YOU DUMB HUMAN!!!!!!!!"

as if he was running for his life, he dashes to you and pushes you back in your room and closes the door behind him

it was like his whole body was boiling from embarrassment

"wear something, for devil's sake!"

he has the back of his hand on his eyes, and is looking away, his face red

the both of you are just standing still

he isn't looking at you at all

"are ya done or what?????"

he hasn't heard you move

you carefully explain to him why you're just in your underwear

oh

he gulps, then he feels the bags from majolish beside his feet

he kicks them towards you

"check them if they're comfortable... o- of course! you'll owe the GREAT mammon for this one!"

they were absolutely comfortable, i'm imagining mammon naturally taller than you as a demon, so the clothes are a little bigger than you

if you thank him, he'll go "obviously, this is something your f- first man should do! thank me a ton!" and he still haven't looked you in the eye

tomorrow, he brings you to a tailor to resize your rad uniform

he'll always bring a mini fan everywhere you both go

leviathan

this man hasn't left his room in weeks probably

it's time for the super secret mission!

mission: get food from the kitchen without being seen!

he tiptoes out of his room, closes his door as quietly as possible and-

slams right into you

the both of you fall to the ground, him right on top of you

o. m. D! is this that trope where the mc and the love interest bump into each other and have a romantic look into each other-

"i- i- i- i'm so sorry, mc! i didn't-"

he looks down and realizes

he SCREECHES

jumps right off of you, like, this man at least jumps five feet in the air as he does so

maybe because they're used to it, the brothers didn't even think of checking in on him

this man is crying

and is also a blushing mess

he keeps repeating sorry over and over that you had to shake his shoulders to get him to listen to you

you explain in simple details about why you're in your underwear and make sure he's getting everything into his head

he stops for a moment, and nods slowly

he understands how you feel, he himself has his own sensory issues too, and a little surprised his friend is the same way

"s- still... i'm sorry, mc..."

after he got his food and drinks, he spent the whole night researching and sewing

you wake up to a pile of clothes on your desk

satan

is in the library reading god knows what

he's very into whatever he's reading, but he hears light foot steps entering the library

knowing it's you, he greets you before looking up at you

he errors

he slams his book right onto his face, you could see the tips of his ears tinged red

"m- mc... why aren't you wearing anything?" you could barely hear his muffled voice

you mention why

he still hasn't put the book down

"i- i see..."

he slowly stands up, book still in his face, and walks out of the library (he trips like three times), once he's out, he puts away the book and dashes to his room

he spends the whole day studying

when you were finished doing whatever you needed to do in the library, the atmosphere felt a little colder

your phone pinged with a notification in the group chat with "we'll be experiencing human world winter for a while" "what"

asmodeus

was actually looking for you

you're not in your room, you're not in his room, you're not in the library-

just where are you, mc?!

he passes by the music room and sees a lone figure inside, in their underwear

? huh

what's a lesser demon half-naked doing in their-

oh, it's you

...

IT'S YOU

"mc, what are you doing here? i've been looking all over for you!"

he whines as he goes to you, but wears a sly smile and a cute blush on his face

"why are you in your underwear, hm?"

he leans closer, but is in a comfortable distance still in case you might pull away

you explain to him about it

his mouth goes o and nods in understanding

"is that so, mc? you should've told me!"

he practically drags you to his room and looks through his stacks and stacks of oils, lotions, literally anything

you're now holding five bottles of cold-feeling lotion, three stacks of clothing, hair pins, hair clips and hair ties

"hm... i think those are too little..." they're too much

just tell him if you ran out, mc! he'll personally scavenge the entire devildom for every stock!

before you know it, majolish is advertising oversized clothes

beelzebub

he just got home from his morning jog, sweat all over him

he's so hungry... maybe sneaking in a bite before breakfast wouldn't hurt...

he sees you in the kitchen wearing nothing but your underwear

oh, and you're also sweaty

his cheeks tint red a little, as he looks away, embarrassed

he clears his throat, "oh, uhm... did you also work out, mc?"

maybe

you'll explain to him while you hand him a sandwich

he munches on the sandwich, before nodding slowly

"oh... is it like food overcooking?"

...?????

nobody knows the answer to that, chat

you just nodded and went about your day

from then on, you start to notice beel always offering you a bottle of water every time you see each other

he also brings a cup of ice cream with him and somehow it doesn't melt and he only ate like a spoon of it before giving it to you

belphegor

he can't sleep peacefully

so he snuck out when beel was snoring, and went to the planetarium

he sees you sitting on the pile of comforter and pillows he set up and he grinned

oh, he's definitely going to sleep-

where are your clothes.

he physically stops, mouth open

you only turn to see he's there when he drops his favorite pillow on the ground

he's malfunctioning

"mc... where the hell are you clothes??"

his cheeks are bright red

doesn't even look away because of the shock

you explain it to him as much as possible because he looks like he's about to drop dead

"oh... huh."

he hesitantly sits down beside you

"so... what do you do about it? just walk around butt-naked?"

you end up talking about it the whole night until he just falls asleep on your lap

you wake up to find him missing, but a fan is by your body

this was so fun to write !

[modelbus]

Another day another short one

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Gn!Reader

Flufftober 9 - Under The Weather

You shut the door behind you, not bothering to be quiet. It was nearly 1 in the afternoon, you were positive Tommy was up and working on the video he told you about. It was a genius idea, one you couldn't wait to watch.

You had taken a chance and decided to do an interview with a podcast, talk about your experiences as a famous content creator. Thank God Niki was also there to calm your nerves. You two had ended up going out for lunch together, just talking, making you a little late to come home. Home. The flat you shared with Tommy was your home, but more than that it was him. You both, together.

Talking about your relationship on the podcast had gotten you thinking quite a bit about everything. The podcasters asked if you thought your career was dependent upon Tommy, and you had replied without a second thought. Of course it wasn't. Just like how George and Sapnap's weren't dependent upon Dream. Just because there was someone bigger than you that you were close with didn't make people dependent.

Funnily enough though, you both might a little dependent upon each other in every other way.

"Tommy?" You ask, nudging open their door. Your eyebrows shoot up at the sight of Tommy still in bed.

He definitely had a recording today. 

"Tom, you awake?"

"No." He groans. "Fuck off." You know him well enough to know he doesn’t mean it.

"Not happening. What happened to your recording?"

"Canceled it."

He finally opens his eyes, staring at you. You’re jealous of how relaxed and comfortable he looks. 

"Why?"

His next words are less of words and more of an incomprehensible mumble. If you were meant to understand any of it, you just didn't.

Well, not like you were doing anything else today.

You’ve barely approached the bed before he's tugging you in with him, practically attaching himself to you. Not to say you don’t like it, but this wasn't normal Tommy behavior.

"Jesus Toms, you're burning." 

"I took Advil."

That's something at least. But from the way he's openly letting himself curl into you, you can tell it didn't help much. Tommy tended to get these flash sicknesses, growing ill just to be as happy as ever.

He jokes about it being because he never gets long-term sick, like you do. Like normal people do. Hence why you absolutely fucking suck at managing being sick together.

His breath fans across your neck from where he's tucked his head into the crook of your neck. If he gets you sick, you’ll murder him. 

"Wait, the light-"

"Nope. Fucking no."

You laugh. "Fine, fine."

You unlock your phone, holding it up behind his head so you can see it and scroll through Twitter. Within seconds Tommy's dropping off to sleep, but you aren’t quite there.

Instead you’re content to scroll through Twitter, freezing when he moves even slightly or his hot ass skin touches yours. It's fine. He'll wake up tomorrow as he always does, perfectly fine.

[re1nasanimeobsession]

waking up with dazai :3

Warning: a tad but suggestive at the end but noting rlly inappropriate

Dazai loves waking you up like this, seeing your nose twitch and your face scrunch up as he gently pecks any available area he can reach (and if he can't, he'll find a way). Doing this just reminds him of something that he has in this cruel world. Seeing you rise out of your slumber giggling and leaning towards him is a sight that he will never tire of. He's not able to do it as much as he wants to (which is really every morning, really he wants to do all day), so he has to savor every chance he gets. He's not a morning person by any chance, but it becomes more than tolerable every time he presses his lips against you.

“Good morning sleeping beauty."

You stretched and groan, his efforts finally paying off, "G'morning Osamu."Dazai could just lay in bed with you the whole day peppering you with kisses and die happy (dare he say it would be the perfect double suicide on the spot. He stopped his attack momentarily after you tried to escape his grasp, keyword tried. As soon as you started to inch your legs towards the floor, he maneuvered his way to tangle both of your legs together, burying his head in the crook of your neck and continuing his onslaught of kisses.

"Trying to leave me already? You know I won't let you go that easily. I know I kissed you like, ten times, but just another ten, please", you shivered at his voice, he knew exactly what he's doing. His sleepy voice retaining that sort of roughness does things to you honestly his voice just does things to you in general, and he knows this. If he keeps this up, you wouldn't be leaving the bed anytime soon, and that's his plan. As pleasing as that sounds, you both do have to eat, and your stomach growling agreed with that. "I know, but can we eat first? We have the whole day to laze away, but I don't wanna starve while doing it" you began to massage his scalp, softly snagging any knots that you came across. "Then I can give you all my attention and kisses after."

He just smiled into your neck, climbing higher and edging closer to your lips. "Hm.. Nope! I want them now, and I'm not waiting any longer." And he reiterated his point by just snuggling deeper into you, breathlessly chuckling at your form giving off a shiver once again. He loves way your body reacts to him, and with the way you're accepting his nonstop kisses, he knows that he's going to be getting his way very soon. "Osamu pleaseeeee? We can even do breakfast in bed! I know that you're hungry-" Pinning you down to the sheets, he didn't waste any time in catching your attention and making your stomach flutter in anticipation. "If you know, then you won't mind helping me, hm? You'll be more than enough to satisfy my appetite."Once again, Dazai never fails to take your breath away, and you might as well cancel any plans you did want to make today.

Dazai already had plans being completely selfish with you, and you could only hope that you'll still be able to function tomorrow. The next morning, Yosano eyed you up and down in suspicion. You walked in practically glowing, greeting everyone with an upbeat in your voice, with Dazai right behind you, and even he looked a bit more brighter himself. Usually it would take you some time to fully wake up and adjust (you still greeted everyone, just with incoherent mumbles) but it seemed that you were wide awake this time. Except there was one issue bugging her...

"Morning Yosano!"

"Good morning...? Are you okay?""Of course! why do you ask?"

"You're awfully lively this morning. And why on Earth are you wearing that around your neck? Out of all the clothes that I picked out for you, and you don't even wear them."

"Oh I was...running late! Yeah, and laundry didn't get done yet, so", you gave a weak laugh. "You make with what you got, ya know?"She's not buying it one bit, and her eyes narrowed even more at your fashion crime.

"Not to mention the fact that you're limping."

You felt your mind going blank as she just gave you a smirk.

You've been made!

"So I'm assuming that your day off was fun?"You cleared your throat, "Y-yeah, it was nice.

Just relaxed, nothing special about that." A beat of silence passed between you, that caused you to sweat and fidget more and more. Before she could even open her mouth to comment, Dazai came up behind you and dragged you away under the pretense of being "too lonely to type up reports".

"Are you proud of yourself Osamu?"

'I'm sorry, I might have went a little overboard yesterday" he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Can you blame me though? Hearing you cry out for me-""OKAY MOVING ON! Just" you jabbed a finger to his chest. "You owe me!"

He just gave you a soft laugh and a kiss on your forehead. He knows that you're a bit upset with him, but he can't help it that you look too cute pouting!

"Our next day off is going to be dedicated to me and me only. I want the royal treatment: feeding me food, massages, the whole nine yards. And don't think you're getting out of this easy too!"Rubbing circles onto your hands, he brought them to his lips, alternating between the two.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Besides", he licked his lips. "I'm just dying to get another taste."

[theonemarvelousness]

Scar of King's Roar [TW]

Leona's eye hurts.

A lot of stuff hurts. His eyes are dry.

It's rare he sees his father.

Talking to the doctor in the other room.

His ears ache; but he catches some words.

"--Unique Magic..."

"--sand? Everything?"

"--blot--"

"--blind?"

He can't see out of his patched-up eye.

Things are weird.

He wants a bath.

A nap.

"And STAY here. No one wants to look after a cursed prince!" The servant scolds, hauling him in the--well. He's not sure where he is, really. It's dark. And small. And there's no one here.

If he wasn't a lion, he wouldn't be able to make out this small, box-like space. He has to sit to fit.

Jiggling the handle does nothing. He can hear the clatter of a lock.

Maybe if he just naps?

---

The door's still locked when he wakes up. He's thirsty, and his stomach growls. Hungry, too.

Pressing his ear against the door...

"Hello?!" He calls, maybe he can't hear them?

"HELLO?!"

Nothing.

He takes another nap.

---

Sleep is nice, but when he's awake he's remembering how hungry and thirst he is.

Why are there no servants? That's... how it's supposed to be, right?

Why did the nanny leave him in here?

---

His tummy hurts.

His throat hurts.

He's hit the door, and tried to use some magic. But he's not strong enough to get out. His claws aren't as long or as sharp as Farenah's, either. He can't just slash through things like his big brother.

Farenah's at school, far away, too.

---

Why can't the door disappear?

Words--strange words bubble in his throat. "I am your hunger, I am your thirst. I am what steals your tomorrows. Kneel before me! King’s Roar!" He doesn't know where it comes from. This strong magic takes nothing, but--but the door!

The door he was pushing against... it's sand?

"What is THAT?" A servant yells, looking at him in horror.

"What did he do!?" Another.

Coming toward them, he grasps their pant leg. "I--"

The cloth turns to sand.

The servant screams. And shoves at him--hard. Their claws pierce and cut his skin, as he's shoved away by his face. It hurts.

It hurts so much.

Stumbling, he falls into a cabinet.

It turns to sand, slowly, as he uses it to get up.

It's.

There's a lot of shouts.

He sees guards.

He...

---

Waking up here...

King's Roar.

That was the magic he used. His Unique Magic.

He isn't sure anymore.

Did kids get their Unique Magics?

He's so tired.

"PRINCE LEONA!" The shout of Kifaji startles him. Ears back.

Leona doesn't want...

"Oh no--what did they do to you? My little prince..." The bird flutters and all that.

But he doesn't want to talk. "Thirsty." He gets out, stomach grumbling. Suddenly, all of it's back. The hunger and thirst.

"Yes, yes!" And off the bird goes, coming back with a fresh glass of water. "Slow sips, Leona."

Taking it, he downs it gratefully. It soothes a lot. But he listens. Slow sips.

"I want a nap, Kifaji." He wants his room.

"The doctor hasn't finished--but what happened, Leona?" The soft tone of the adult. The old bird bends to look him in the eyes. Eye.

"...The nanny put me somewhere..." He mumbles, looking away. "And I got out with sand."

The King and the doctor return then.

His father looks just like Farenah.

Sunset hair. Gold eyes. Large. Proud.

He looks like his mother, the late queen. Dirt hair. Green eyes.

But he's only seen her in paintings. Farenah's photos.

Leona bows to the king, as he should, and keeps his gaze to the ground.

The doctor pulls up his chin. "His Blot levels are high, he's severely dehydrated. He needs water. Several good meals. That is an impressive amount of magic for a five-year-old..." He doesn't like looking at the old doctor. But he doesn't pull away like he wants to. "My King, you should be quite proud. You have two powerful princes in magic!"

"He summons sand." The king cuts back.

Leona's ears press flat to his skull.

The doctor is older than even Kifaji. "My, yes, we... are unsure if he'll keep his sight. Kifaji, make sure he's here after dinner. We'll do twice-a-day looks until it's healed."

"Yes, of course."

"He can go now." The doctor releases Leona.

"Come, my Prince." Kifaji gestures for him to come along.

Leona slides off the table, and bows to his father quietly before he leaves.

He doesn't stumble until he's out of the older lion's sight.

---

The servants are scared now.

They were just mean before... cursed is thrown around a lot, more.

They say, in their whispers they think he can't hear, that he killed the queen when he was born.

He took too much.

Of course he did, look at that magic.

Sand.

---

It left a scar over his eye, but he can see out it.

His fingers trace over it again and again.

"It does make you look like the King of Beasts, Leona." Kifaji points out.

"Really?" He turns back, looking at the old bird, curious.

The bird gives a big smile. "Yes, and I think you'll follow a path of greatness too, one day."

Kifaji's just saying that.

[END]

---

Homecoming : https://theonemarvelousness.tumblr.com/post/715696576307380224/homecoming-sequel-to-scar-of-kings-roar-tw

Distance: https://www.tumblr.com/theonemarvelousness/758486613249720320/distance-second-sequel-to

Overblotter: https://www.tumblr.com/theonemarvelousness/758488554744725504/overblotter-fourth-to-scar-of-kings-roar?source=share

[ephemeral--dreams]

a deathbed scene Nikolai Gogol/Reader Rating: T Word count: 533 Warnings: Nikolai is his own warning, I promise everyone lives despite the title

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

You'd tried to get him to leave when he'd shown up at your door, telling him he'd get sick too if he stayed around you too long.

That hadn't stopped him from clattering around your kitchen to make you soup, forcing you to down some medicine, and practically pushing you back into bed when he was done. You were so tired from dealing with him on top of how awful you felt that by that point, you were in a daze. Good! He wouldn't have to put in extra work to get you to fall asleep. Sleep was good when one was sick, right?

Nikolai hummed, reaching out to check your temperature. It was your slurred, quiet voice that snapped him out of his task, entirely shattering whatever amusement he'd found in taking care of you when you were too weak to shut him out or complain too much.

"When you finally kill me, can you make it painless?"

The words make him fall still in shock, hand still against your forehead. It's lucky that you're not even paying attention to him, that you're too out of it to notice the way he's been sent reeling. That's exactly it, of course. You're also too sick to realize what you're saying, to hold back the way you usually would. Nikolai knows he shouldn't pay too much mind to what you say in your delirium. You likely won't even remember this tomorrow. And yet… Well, you're also not aware enough to keep yourself from being honest, isn't that right? Anything you say now must be what you think but never say to him.

Ah. He pulls his hand back, gathering a response.

"What makes you think I'm going to kill you, dove?"

You crack your eyes open to look at him. "…Of course you are… I know you," There's no accusation to your tone, only acceptance. As if you don't quite realize the gravity of what you're saying.

"So you're telling me you've been leaving yourself defenseless knowing what I could do at any time? Risky, risky. Where's your self preservation, dear?"

"Mm… I mean, my life's always been in your hands…" you yawn, settling into the bed. "Just don't make me suffer too much, 'kay? Probably takes the fun out of it for you, but..."

Nikolai lets out a laugh, more astonished than anything. You lay there so vulnerable, so helpless, after just… Handing him permission to do as he pleases with you. He could kill you right here and now. He could do even worse. You've given him too much power, considering who he is. Don't you care about all the awful things he could do to you?

(Not that he would, necessarily. Not now. Maybe not ever. Who knows?)

He smiles, presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Sure, sure. I'll make it nice and easy just for you, hm? You're the only one who gets that privilege, you know~"

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Seemingly satisfied, your eyes fall closed again. Nikolai watches as you drift off quickly, clearly exhausted from trying to stay awake through your sickness. When you wake, he'll tend to you and spoil you until you're better again, and most importantly… pretend this exchange never occurred at all.

[vodika-vibes]

Today, I have Rynn and Delta squad bouncing around my head. So here you go, have Rynn.

Warnings: Some angst

Time Period: After Order 66

The ship is quiet, save for the hum of the hyperdrive that echoes through the ship. Rynn peeks her head into the main sitting room, where the holo-table is located, and a small frown pulls down her lips. Sev is sprawled on the couch, covered in bandages and bruises. Healing from the fiasco that was Kashyyyk. Well, healing physically, at least. It's going to take some time for him to recover from the emotional hurt that came with his pod brothers abandoning him. It's a hurt he'll have to handle eventually...but not today. Or even tomorrow. After all, she doesn't even know where the other three members of Delta are right now. And with the Jedi largely wiped out, it's not like she has a massive support network to fall back on. Logically, Rynn knows that they're with the Empire. Logically, she knows that finding them will only lead to heartbreak. But Delta was hers, is hers, and she's not willing to give up on them yet. She found Sev, after all. Rynn settles on the couch next to Sev, and gently smooths her hand over his short hair. He doesn't know what happened. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Boss tried to put a blaster round through her back. And she doesn't have the nerve to tell him that she's since lost track of his brothers. Slowly, she leans down and presses her lips against his forehead, a surge of guilt filling her as he stirs and peers up at her through tired eyes. "Hey you," His voice is rough, rougher than usual, and if Rynn was a lesser woman she would allow herself to hate the empire for hurting him so badly. "Hey yourself," She whispers. "I'm sorry for waking you." "S'alright," He shifts so he's able to lay his head on her lap, "Do I get your attention because I'm hurt?" "Of course you do," She replies. "And the others are okay with it?" Rynn's soft smile doesn't flicker, she has enough control over her emotions that there's no physical evidence of her distress. But Sev knows her, better than she knows herself at times. So when he scowls and reaches up with heavily bandaged hands to cup her face, she allows her smile to fall. "What happened?" Rynn doesn't avert her gaze, "There was an incident." She says, "Boss tried to kill me." Sev sits up suddenly enough that he hisses in pain, "What?! He would never." "But he did. Fixer and Scorch tried to help him. I didn't hurt them, but I don't know where they are either." She explains, gentle hands encouraging him to lay back down. He doesn't fight her, relaxing under her gentle touch. "What happened?" He repeats. "The clones turned on the Jedi, almost to a man." Rynn's voice is soft, "The Jedi were almost completely wiped out. There are a few of us who survived...but not enough. Not nearly enough." Sev stares at her, "...I'm sorry." Rynn shakes her head, "Boss, Fixer, and Scorch are mine. Just like you. I'm not giving up on them. Not yet. Will you help me?" "As if you have to ask," Sev replies, "Where are we going?" "There's another group of clones who have managed to stay themselves, they're based on Ord Mantell right now. Once you're healed, we'll go there and see what they know." Rynn explains. "Alright," He agrees, his eyes closing, "Rynn?" "Hm?" "Thank you for coming to get me." "Silly man," She whispers, her fingers gentle against his bruised cheek, "As if I would do anything else." She leans in one more time and kisses the bridge of his nose, before she pulls back, "Get some rest, Sev. We have a lot of work to do."

[beebobeebo]

Title: Tim Help

Fandom: Justified

Characters: Raylan Givens, wee Willa Givens , & Tim Gutterson

Relationship: Tim Gutterson x Raylan Givens (Givenson)

Summary:

Some things require Tim help.

Willa might not be able to write a paragraph, but she also can't stick to a plan.

This was originally titled "Fuck Me", but that might cause a lot of confusion sans context

Something tiny is poking at Tim's eye. Clearly, this is a fucking goblin.

He opens his eyes in time to grab the tiny hand by his face. What the … Willa. He's supposed to be up and on the couch before she wakes up. Shit. He's never going to hear the end of this.

"Hey, Wisp. I, uh, I spilled something on the couch so your daddy was sharin'—"

A tiny hand goes over his mouth. "Lies are bad."

"Do you need me to get your daddy up? He sleeps like a rock, but—"

"I need Tim help, " she says in a whisper.

"'Tim help'? Go, uh, well, turn around for a minute." Tim waits for her to spin on her heels and reaches down in the floor for his sweats. Once he's decent he gets out of bed. "You sure you don't want your daddy?"

Willa grabs his hand and pulls him with more force than he'd guess possible from a first-grader. They make it to her room and she points out her window facing the neighbors.

"The men were looking at Daddy's house!"

Tim blinks down at her. It's ass o'clock in the morning, and the kid is setting off every alarm in his admittedly alarm-filled head. He drops to a knee, gently guides her behind him, and looks out the window just over the sill.

He watches for a long moment. The space between the houses has never been so still.

"What'd your elf eyes see, Wil?" He motions for her to come around beside him.

"Men. They moved the trash can and I woked up," she whispers as she peeks over the window sill.

"Lies are bad," Tim says as he looks over to where a flashlight is glowing beneath Willa's pillow. "You were up looking at your book."

Her face falls into the patented Givens "You can't prove that"-face as she bleats, "But, but I heard them!"

Tim scoops her up. "You're gonna watch your daddy while I check outside, okay?

She nods and uncharacteristically clings to him. Not helping his anxiety.

It's nothing. She's just a kid. They get spooked all the time.

He tucks her in next to Raylan who immediately pulls her to his side and kisses the top of her head without so much as blinking awake. Tim smiles down at them before he catches Willa's look.

"Okay. I'm goin'. Goddamn."

He grabs his gun from the side table, quickly clears the house, and goes out to walk the perimeter. Here's hoping the neighbors don't call the cops on the half-naked babysitter with a gun slipping around corners.

There's nothing.

The Claremonts don't properly sort their recycling, but otherwise outside the house and within ten feet of the property line is safe.

He walks back in and slips back into the bed. Willa grabs his hand. That's enough to get her to sleep, but he stays up all night listening, waiting.

By some unspoken agreement, they don't give Raylan the details. Willa simply got scared, as children do, and climbed into bed with them. She even says it had to be scary last night for Tim to need to sleep in the big bed too. The kid can be alright when she wants to be.

Raylan, of course, looks at them both like they know better, but his face shows he's too tired to argue about either of them being in the bed. They follow Raylan through his whole morning routine, alternating based on activity. Tim makes sure to claim the shower because he's only human��ish.

Raylan promises this trip's just an overnight in Georgia for meetings about the Rougeau situation. He'll be back for dinner tomorrow. No, they cannot have dinosaur mac n' cheese. He hugs Willa until she shoves him away and pulls Tim into the foyer to kiss him stupid. It doesn't take much by Tim's measure.

"Look after my girl," Raylan says as he rests his forehead against Tim's.

"Look after my man," Tim counters. "Go or you won't."

"Bye, baby," Raylan says one hand on the door.

"Get the fuck out of here. We love you." Tim gently pushes Raylan toward the door.

Raylan smiles his real smile, a bit lop-sided with fewer teeth, and disappears out the front door.

Tim contemplates exactly who the fuck he's become before he walks into the living room. He looks to Willa peering over the back of the couch.

"Now we can figure this shit out."

She bobs her tiny head at him.

----------------------------------------------------------->

Two hours later, they got nothing. It turns out that six-year-olds are pretty shitty witnesses.

She does like playing detective, though. Her logical leaps are even pretty good for someone who can't write a paragraph.

Two men with "mean eyes" was her clearest recollection. He believes her, but when her little voice quivers trying to describe how tall they were he takes it as gospel.

He lets her rest and mindlessly stare up at the TV for a while. Then there's the telltale shuffling of a Willa in motion.

"Tim?"

"Wisp?" He asks as he looks up from the house plans spread on the coffee table. Hey, might as well look if your boyfriend keeps them shoved in the top of the linen closet, and you've got paranoia-fueled energy to spare. He's already picked out where they fucked the HVAC up.

"I'm scared." She climbs up onto the couch and twists her fingers in the knee of his sweats.

"Nothing is gonna happen, sweetheart." He squeezes her to his side. God, he didn't think he was a pet person, but here he is.

----------------------------------------------------------->

Tim starts awake. He'd let himself get comfortable. He was losing his touch.

Willa's in her little unicorn sleeping bag curled up around his feet in front of the couch. Some part of him didn't want her in that room. The twist of his gut aligned perfectly with her desire to stay up late watching baboons be generally terrifying. He thinks he might turn the TV back on now that—

There was a clink. A window. Side window. He bends down and puts a finger over Willa's mouth, which she promptly bites. He looks down at her trying to look annoyed and not proud.

Jesus Christ.

She starts to talk but he shakes his head.

"Under the couch. Don't come out until I get you. Just me."

"Just Tim," she whispers and scurries into her creepy-ass hiding place of choice for the last few months. Better than the bathtub week.

He's glad he'd stayed up and dressed. Ready, just in case. Killing someone in his jim-jams is not on his bucket list.

Who the fuck says "jim-jams"?

He sticks close to the wall. He hears the rustle of bedding from Willa's room. A shadow dances on the light purple walls.

Fuck.

Seriously fuck.

He flattens against the wall, waiting. When the man tries to sneak out into the hallway, Tim has an arm around the bastard's throat and a gun in his ribs.

"You and how many?" Tim growls. He angles the barrel of the gun with a certainty he knows the dumbfuck can feel.

"One."

"One." Tim pulls the trigger and lets the body drop. When dipshit number two steps out of the bathroom, he gets Tim's fist to his stomach and a barrel to the temple as he's sent to his knees. Tim catches a shift in the light to his right, lifts the gun, and hits surprise jackass number three in the chest.

"Why?" Tim presses the still-hot barrel to the second man's temple. The man doesn't say anything and Tim rewards that with a knee to the back and a face to the wall.

"Why?"

"Givens pissed off boss," the man grunts out. "Takin' the girl."

"You think I'd just let you take my fuckin' kid?" Tim digs his knee in until both he and the man are in pain. "Who? If you want to be a witness and not evidence, you'll answer."

The man shakes his head as well as he can against the wall. Tim cracks his gun against the fucker's jaw.

"Who? I'm not in the mood to be clever here, cocksucker. Just answer the goddamn question."

The man makes a desperate grab for the gun and Tim shoots him with an annoyed huff. The blowback is sticky. Fucking brains.

"Tim?"

"Willa?"

Fuck.

----------------------------------------------------------->

As the police do their job, Winona and Raylan scream at each other. Yeah, that's gonna help Willa.

Willa's hands are still fisted in Tim's bloody shirt. She won't leave him regardless of who asks. Winona even tries to buy her off with the promise of a myriad of glittery, annoying-sounding shit Tim's never heard of, but she's firm that she's staying with him.

They'll just have to wait everyone else out.

----------------------------------------------------------->

When they're tucked up in the hotel room, Raylan is staring at a snoring Willa wrapped around her copy of The Hobbit.

"Hey,"Tim pulls Raylan over to the room's other bed. "C'mere. She ain't goin' anywhere."

"I should have been there," Raylan says. His cheek is twitching and the vein in his neck is throbbing.

"Woulda just slowed me down," Tim whispers against his neck. "Nothin' is gonna hurt our girl."

"Nothin'?" Raylan asks his eyes never leaving Willa.

"Alright, probably somethin' dumb like rollerblades, but I'll shoot them too if she asks," Tim answers with a shrug.

"Tim."

"Raylan."

"You said 'our' girl," Raylan says finally looking over at Tim.

"Oh, fuck me."

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Price

Chapter 2 - Morning Greeting

Summary: Set during RttE, based on the episode "Gold Rush." The entire point was for Hiccup to get Berk's Gold back. Well, he's far from his goal now.

Warnings: Sexual Content, use of strong language and insults (the word "cunt")

Rating: Explicit

Dead Dove: Yes

Words: 821

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Ryker

Pairing: Rycup, Vigcup

Author's Notes: Officially introducing Ryker and showing some of the differences between the two brothers in their treatment of Hiccup!

And there will be smut in this fic, despite the very problematic nature of the plot. Even later, after his inevitable rescue. And it will deal with some uncomfortable stuff; like (sexual) slavery, verbal abuse, physical abuse, mental health problems, Hiccup's conflicting emotions and thought processes that he'll have throughout this entire journey, loved ones not understanding and being mean, and parts that flashback to earlier in the story. If a part needs a warning, I'll put it in a warning at the top of the author's notes like I did here.

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

Viggo likes to have their “guest” in the privacy of his quarters, but Ryker prefers doing him in his cell, where he thinks Hiccup belongs. And if anybody is listening in or even sneaking peeks, that isn’t his problem.

Ryker sits on Hiccup’s cot while the young Dragon Rider sits in his lap and takes his cock. Leaning back with his hands on his knees, he rolls with his hips with every thrust downwards. His head he has thrown back as he moans.

Everything about Ryker is bigger than Viggo. The cock that makes his pussy burn as he slides up and down its length, the hands pulling on his hips, the body he pins him down with. Everything is bigger and that is his main redeeming feature.

“Fuck, if I could keep you on my dick forever…” Ryker groans, thoroughly enjoying the way his cock can just be swallowed up inside.

He never thought someone so uninteresting looking as Hiccup could ever satisfy him. Sure, he has a pretty face, but that’s where it ends for him. Not enough meat on his bones, breasts too small, hips too narrow, but at least he knows how to use his pussy and Ryker considers that his one redeeming quality. Well, he knows how to use it after some proper guidance from his captors, of course.

Moaning as he quickens his own pace, Hiccup’s gaze meets his again. Apparently, that piqued his interest.

“I bet you would love that, wouldn’t you? To go to sleep with my cock in you and wake up to me fucking you raw,” he smirks and the way the other clamps down on him betrays exactly what he’s feeling.

“Oh fuck!” Hiccup cries out, throwing his head back again when his orgasm courses through him. He stops moving as his fire burns, Ryker buried up to his crotch inside. The man groans before licking his lips and rolling them over.

Hiccup gets the wind knocked out of him as he lands on the hard cot with his back, but he doesn’t make a peep. After bending his spread legs with his hands and his own legs, Ryker pins him with his weight and pounds into him until he cums.

The Dragon Rider below him is left to take it, pussy burning from overexertion and crying into the man’s ear. He holds onto him, his arms wrapped around his shoulders from under his armpits, his nails digging into his skin. Yesterday’s scratch marks are still very much there.

“Fucking Hel,” the man grumbles as he cums before resting his entire weight on the younger man. He groans and grunts, subtly rocking back and forth to gently milk himself dry.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to wake you up with my cock,” he promises him and he feels their prisoner’s pussy give him a happy squeeze. “I knew you liked that idea.”

-XOXOX-

The following morning, that is exactly what he does. While Hiccup is in a deep sleep after yesterday’s… exercises, Ryker sneaks into his cell and quietly settles on the cot. He’s in lucky, he’s sleeping on his back. Carefully, he maneuvers the other’s legs around him. It helps that his fake leg is on the floor.

Their guest only wears a thin linen tunic and something that could pass for pants made of the same material. They’re beige in color, stiff and scratchy and uncomfortable, especially on naturally sensitive parts of his body and the scars wrapped around his legs. Where his old clothes and armor went, Hiccup has no idea.

They were burned, turned into a pile of ashes. Including the pauldron with that ridiculous Night Fury insignia of his.

Ryker pushes the tunic up to his collarbone and the pants he removes. He’s being sneaky about it, can’t have him wake up too soon, after all. He’s shirtless himself and then lowers his own pants until he frees his cock. Then he pumps his shaft erect, pumps until it weeps.

He sneaks two fingers past his folds and pushes them into his opening. Grimacing, Hiccup finally begins to stir and spreads his thighs wider apart. Ryker’s other hand grabs a breast to knead. Perhaps he can encourage them to grow a little.

“What the f…” Hiccup wakes up to the feeling of fingers gently pumping in and out of him, of his breast being fondled and he opens his eyes to find Ryker right there. Of course, he would fulfill his promise, Hiccup wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Look down, Cunt,” he tells him and Hiccup does as he’s told, finding the older Grimborn brother’s cock resting on his belly. It’s erect and weeping precum, but more than that, it’s showing him exactly what he’s been taking and how deeply.

“Oh Gods,” he moans and he already can’t wait to be filled with his affection.

Hiccup is here to be used and that is what he’ll do.

[sobredunia]

Hey u should tell me oc lore ok? ok we can exchange oc lore like uh. uhm. like. we can exchange. like telling stories around a campfire yeah thats it. yeah. yay

okay so i started writing this and then i had to go to sleep and now that I wake up in the morning tumblr has eaten the entire fucking ask. thankfully i decided to copypaste it on a drive folder but fucking christ i did a lot of text and tumblr eated it all and didnt even care :(

This started out remotely normal and I ended up writing it like fanfiction lmao

(TW: cannibalism (?), death, mentions of alcohol consumption)

Okay so there's this guy named Charcoal, he's a fox that can turn into a human :D. He's been alive for a very long time, causing mischief be it through good actions or bad actions just to see what would happen. Although he can easily blend in with the humans, he changes his aspect to show more fox-like features just to see how they'd react. Most of the towns he's been in either consider him a small god to pray and make offers to or a threat that needs to be eliminated (but he's always faster, always smarter. he knows humans all too well)

The years pass and pass, and he's decided that he's gonna enter this one city looking like a starved and sad teenage boy, trying to see if these humans are foolish enough that they'll treat him kindly

They don't

He begs for money on the streets and no one gives him anything. He begs for food in restaurants that are about to take out the trash and no one gives him anything. He begs other homeless people to make space for one more in their makeshift huts and no one does

The bigger the city, the ruder the people, he's noticed

Eventually, he just pickpockets someone and goes to a random bar to get at least a bit happy before sleeping somewhere as a fox. He'll go to a different city tomorrow

"Are you sure you're old enough for a drink?"

The bar is run by an old man that looks like he should've retired more than a decade ago

This was the most compassion Charcoal had been shown in the entire city, so he decided he'd try to play his role just a bit more

"Psh- of course!" He says in a tone that makes it seem like he's lying, and then slides the coins he stole over to him

The old man frowns, before going under the bar and pouring the drink he had asked for, and then retrieving the coins

He takes a sip, and notices that it's a non alcoholic drink. Still, he technically gave him what he asked for, so he can't complain. He can appreciate a fellow trickster

The two engage in conversation, Charcoal coming up with a sob story about how he's an orphan that escaped a cruel orphanage and is now looking for refuge in an unknown part of the city. He also sees how the old man engages with the other clients, remembering their names and preferred drinks and how much they had all drank, knowing when to stop pouring them glasses. Despite some rude and some annoying customers, the old man dealt with them with patience and appropriate responses, and he always gave a listening ear to any who needed them. Charcoal was definitely impressed

Once everyone had had their fill, the old man shooed them out, all but Charcoal

He offered him a job and a place to stay, living in his house that was over the bar and working as a barista or when he wasn't able to work due to age

"Isn't it illegal to work while you're this old?"

"As long as none of the clients snitch, it doesn't matter. And it's not like you're living a very lawful life yourself"

He cackled. "You got me there"

When Charcoal went to sleep, he decided he'd keep up the bit for just a few more days, just to see what it's like to be a bartender, and maybe snatch all the money in the register once he bails out and goes someplace else

He did not, in fact, stay there for "just a few more days"

He hated to admit it, but he'd actually grown attached to that old man and the barista lifestyle. It was fun listening to stories and breaking or starting fights. He also began to gradually change his appearance, to simulate the concept of growing up. When the old man began to teach him how to pour and mix drinks and what the regulars' preferences were, it genuinely felt like an honor, and his days of aimless wandering and pranks and thievery were long behind him

And then tragedy struck

The old man had a heart attack

He had actually written a will. A will where he left everything he had to Charcoal, the closest thing he'd ever had to family

It actually hurt

He actually wanted to cry

He had been alive for years and years, and this was the one time he had cared so much about someone. Not as a human, but as a person

He decided he'd continue running the bar, to honor him

He wasn't so sure why he did that so determined. But he did

But it wasn't the same without him there

He started to lose regulars and newcomers alike, leaving the bar nearly empty most nights

On a rather populated night, though, he met a certain someone

Someone like him

An animal that could turn into a human

A hare. Chalk was his name

He looked like any other person, although he was rather insistent on keeping his hat on

They didn't recognise eachother for what they were. Not right away, anyway. It was only when he saw a bit of a hare ear poking out from under the hat that he realised

They hit it off right away after that, happy to not be the only ones. Charcoal offered a job as a bartender, like the old man had done all those years ago. He took it, because why not

He was far far younger than him, in his 20s. He still had that bit of respect for human rules and didn't view them as distanced from him as Charcoal did. It was probably a thing that came with age. There were still plenty of humans older than him, after all, and he had next to no life experience

Money wasn't exactly an issue. If they wanted, they could just steal some, but Charcoal knew that's not what the old man would have wanted. He wanted to try living clean. For at least a while. But the bar just kept on losing clients

And then, the straw that broke the camel's back

Charcoal was out in the back, about to throw a trash bag into the larger container, when he noticed something in it

A corpse

A young woman's corpse

He panicked. Someone must've dumped her there after killing her

He couldn't let the body be discovered here. If it did, it would be the final nail in the coffin for the bar, and they would have to close it for good. No one wants to go drink in a place where they murdered a young lady

So, in a panic, he retrieved the corpse and put it inside the bar, locking the door

Chalk panicked when he entered the kitchen and saw the scene

"What the fuck did you do!?"

Charcoal hurriedly explained the scene and the consequences this would have for the establishment if she was found here

"S-so, you want to move her someplace else?"

"No, we can't risk it getting traced to here. Then we'll get in even bigger trouble for having moved it"

"Then what do you suggest we do!?"

"..."

Charcoal took a cleaver and chopped up the body, before turning his mouth into that of a fox, and eating desperately

Charcoal could only watch in horror as his friend ate a human like a rabid beast, turning his hands into claws to rip apart the flesh better

Eventually, he finally stopped being locked in place and left to fill up as a bartender for the two clients they had. Luckily, both of them were too drunk to notice anything. Chalk shooed them out before going back to the kitchen. It was a mess. So was Charcoal. He was too busy licking the bones clean to notice him coming back. Or even leaving in the first place

They cut up the bones even more, before keeping them in a plastic bag to turn into stew later. Things like the skull or the hips were grinded up beyond recognition and thrown out through drains, sinks and toilets, and the two silently agreed to never speak about this again

Besides, they just had to wait around 30 years until the case went cold. What's that to someone who's lived for far longer than that?

At least Charcoal could say that. Chalk was still very disturbed by the whole ordeal. He couldn't really blame him

They pretended not to care when they started seeing the missing person posters

[safetycar-restart]

OKAY BUT YAY CHARLES?!?!?!?!?! I WAS BUSY WATCHING THE HANDBALL GAME SO I COULDN'T GET TO WRITING BUT OOP HERE I AM!!!!!!!

he was so happy!!!!!! did you see his smile?!?!?!? his genuine smile?!?!?!?!?!?!?

and you'd be so proud of him. and having you be proud of him is like winning gold to charles. and he feels proud of himself too, honestly. he won his own fight.

you'd be pampering him all night, have a sweet dinner back at your hotel where you'd just be talking and joking around, leaning over to charles every now and then to tickle him. it's just such a sweet atmosphere, and you're both happy as can be, because you're together.

cuddling around, and maybe you'd even go on a little walk before boarding your plane that night. it's late and dark outside, the two of you walking around, not a soul around, just messing around and enjoying charles being happy.

on the plane, you'd be cuddling with a sleeping charles, tucked into your side with a blanket pulled up to his chin. his head on your shoulder, your head on his, his hair messy as he lets out little snores. he sleeps for a good half hour before waking up, and he kisses your cheek when he does. you kiss his head and stroke his tummy, as he hums in content. he's squirming around a few minutes later. but since you're pretty much alone on the plane, and charles has a blanket pulled up to his chin, where's the harm in giving him a little handjob?

you start palming him through his comfy sweats, charles quietly whining (he knows how to control himself when he has to). you pull down his sweats just enough to take hold of his cock, charles' hips bucking into your hand. you stroke charles' hair and kiss the top of his head as he does, just calming him down a little. it's just a slow, sensual handjob. a reward.

he cums all over your hand and his tummy, but you always come prepared. you pull your wet wipes out of your backpack with your free hand, swiftly cleaning your hand and charles' tummy, using a seperate wipe to clean charles' cock so he can sleep comfortably, without cum in his boxers. he mutters out a 'thank you', before kissing your nose and leaning back onto your shoulder, dozing off, getting ready to be yours starting tomorrow.

- 📓

Oh my god I knew you'd be in my askbox with a fucking amazing ask about Charles getting second and this is just incredible. 📓 anon, I truly adore you this is so fucking good.

Charles feels so, so proud of himself for getting second. Not just because he worked so hard and finally got something he deserved, but also because he knows he's made you proud. And yes, he knows you would be proud of him no matter what happens, but it's extra special when he's actually managed to do what he wanted to.

I adore the idea of having a dinner with just the two of you? Poor Charles has been so stressed and overwhelmed and busy lately and now that he's finally done... he can't think of a better way to celebrate than just to go for dinner with you.

Of course so many people want come with you guys, since so many friends and family were at the race and everyone seems to expect him to go partying. But he turns them all down.

He doesnt want that, because then he'll have to put up a front and have to take pictures and sign things for fans and be pulled in a hundred different directions. Normally he's fine with that, he understands why that happens and knows it's part of the job.

But honestly, he wants to selfish for a little bit? His social battery, well all of his batteries in fact, are completely flat and he just... he wants to relax with you.

He goes back to the hotel restaurant, maybe even asks for the dinner to brought to his hotel room so that no one bothers you guys? And of course you order far too much food, none of which is on his diet but that doesn't care.

Charles just has the best time, eating food with you and feeding each other and chatting about everything and anything. He's so smiley and giggly the entire time, finally feeling relaxed.

I don't think Charles would want to go for a walk, because the fans know which hotel he's at and he honestly just wants to avoid any and all people. But, maybe you guys go for a swim in the hotel pool?

There's no one else there, which is just the best. You guys don't really swim properly, you more just float around and kiss a little and splash each other.

By this time, it's time for you and Charles to go back to Monaco. You guys sneak out of the back entrance of the hotel and into a car organised by Ferrari, and then basically sprint through the airport because Charles's doesnt want to speak to ANYONE (sidenote, if this were the d/s au: he would absolutely refuse to speak to anyone besides you and make you do all the talking for him and then just hide away at home with you for like three weeks).

The plane journey is honestly the best.

There's no one else in your specific first class carriage so he gets to cuddle up to you without anyone seeing. He falls into a light sleep almost instantly, using you as a person pillow and snoring lightly against your neck. You keep a tight grip on him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and keeping your other hand on his inner thigh because Charles loves to be held tight.

When he wakes, he's still sleepy but so happy, pressing open kisses on your shoulder and then shuffling further up to kiss your jaw and cheek and basically any part of you he can reach. You move your hand from his thigh to his tummy, slipping your hand under his soft shirt (it's your soft shirt) to give him tummy rubs.

He starts to get squirmy almost instantly, because he gets hard so quickly when he feels safe and comfy.

And well... you're alone and he's got a blanket covering him and he absolutely deserves a soft hand job. He's so sweet as you palm him in his sweatpants, cuddling as close to you as he can get and moving his one leg to be over your lap so that you have better access.

He whines when you take his cock out of his sweats, because he feels so nice and safe right now and it's hard to have to keep quiet.

So you pull him as close as you can, rubbing up and down his side with your free hand and kissing the top of his head. He relaxes then, becoming quieter as you slowly build up a rhythm. It's not intense, it's the opposite that really.

Just slow, sweet pleasure.

Intense scenes will come later, but for now you just want him to feel safe and good.

He cums so sweetly for you, letting out one little whine and then quickly biting down on your shoulder to try and keep quiet. He lets out a proper whine when you pull away, but stops complaining when you grab the wet wipes to clean him up.

He's very giggly as you clean him, finding the feeling of the wet wipes a little ticklish. He's already half asleep by the time you throw away the wet wipes. But the moment you sit back down, he opens his blanket and throws it over you as well, because obviously you must also have some of the blanket.

He falls into a deep sleep against you then, only waking up when you press kisses to his cheeks and forehead to bring him back the real world because it's time to land.

He can't wait to get home and get his collar.

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Vampire Chrissy AU, At Dawn They Sleep

"...what are you doing?" Eddie Munson stared down at the blood covered cheerleader who had her palm stuck out towards him.

"Trying to make you forget you ever saw this." She replied and Eddie continued to stare at her with rising confusion. The light just above the bar's back entrance illuminated her face. Chrissy Cunningham. Queen of Hawkins Highschool, barely over five feet tall and apparently a murderer. The older teen watched her continue to hold her palm out before he spoke.

"I'm ugh, not feeling anything. Sorry?" Eddie apologized, still unsure on what was even happening. Chrissy's arms went down and she frowned at him.

"Damn it! This works for everyone else."

If Eddie Munson was a rational person he would probably be running now. But the curiosity heavily outweighed the fear. Instead he snorted at the blonde girl's face.

"What? Were you trying to mind control me like a vampire or something?" He jokingly asked. Or at least it was a joke until he saw the way her now prominent fangs shown in the faint alley light. "Wait a sec-holy shit. Are you a fucking vampire?" He didn't wait for an answer as the panic finally started to set in. "Oh my God. Chrissy Cunningham is a fucking vampire. And you just killed a dude! What the fuck-?" He was cut off by Chrissy rushing at him. Eddie dropping the cigarette he'd been smoking in surprise as she lifted him up against the brick alley wall with surprising ease. One hand gripping the front of his shirt while the other wrapped around his mouth to silence his panic.

"Please don't panic." She said, seeming to make the goth only more panicked as he looked down at her with wide eyes. "I didn't kill him. I just...took a little drink. I never drink enough to kill. I promise. He'll just wake up in a few hours and won't remember anything." To this Eddie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Listen, I'll let you go but you have to promise not to scream. Okay?" Eddie took a moment to think before nodding. Letting the taller boy go and he dropped to the ground. Taking a moment to catch his breath and he glanced over at the body again. A still breathing body. Watching the man's chest rise and fall, if only slightly.

"Okay, ugh, wow. Lot to process right now...first off, holy shit. You're a vampire." He managed to get out. "That's definitely...weird."

"Um yeah." Chrissy nodded in agreement. "Sorry, it's just you're taking this surprisingly well. Most people freak out went they see the fangs."

"Freak out? Why would I do that? This is like the coolest thing ever. You're a vampire!" Eddie replied giddily. "Have you always been like this? Can you fly? Can you turn into a bat? Are the fangs like straws or is it more of a scrape and lick type of thing?" So many questions ran through his head as the blonde blankly stared at him.

"You're not scared of me?"

"No. This is like the coolest thing ever! Holy shit balls!" Eddie's reaction made the girl giggle.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No! Course not." Eddie shook his head. "Don't know if you've noticed but this town hates different. I get the shit beat out of me for being a dude who paints his nails. Who knows what they'd do if they found out you were a blood sucking creature of the night."

"I guess." Chrissy frowned. "And the answer to most of this questions are, I have no idea. I was only turned a year ago."

"Well we have to fix that!"

"Fix...what?" The cheerleader asked as her face screwed up in confusion.

"Come on, aren't you curious? You're w vampire now! Imagine all the different things you can do!" Eddie puffed up his chest and pointed a thumb at himself. "And you are looking at a bona-fide vampire aficionado. I've seen every vampire movie ever and I've DMed the Strahd Ravenloft module twice."

"I have no idea what any of that last part meant but if you're willing to help, I'll try anything!" Chrissy agreed when there was a groan from the man lying behind the dumpster. "We should probably talk later. See you at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow sounds cool."