#settled? but i can't settle if it's not the right set up but i have to minutely tweak the set up until it's right but it so rarely is.

[hannieehaee]

I know your request are closed but I just wanna send this before I forget 😓 (sorry if you’re already being flooded with requests) but could you do Jun x actress!reader? Maybe a costars to lovers plot? They act in a romance drama and the on screen chemistry is perfect because they genuinely like each other in a romantic way.

THANK YOU SM I LOVE YOUR WORK!! ❤️

18+ / mdi

content: actor!jun, some small rivalry between jun and reader, smut, afab reader, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1710

a/n: thank you so much!!! i hope you enjoy what i came up with<33

masterlist

"are you here to practice lines again?", you asked as you opened your dressing room door to welcome jun into your private area yet again.

he gave you sheepish smile as he walked in and took a seat on the couch the two of you would usually lounge on in between shoots, "already annoyed of me?", he asked as he settled in.

you followed him, taking a seat next to him as you handed him a drink, "just rethinking how good your acting skills could be if you need to go over the lines so often," you responded in jest.

"oh, is that how it is?", he gaped at you, giving you that big smile he always reserved for you.

it had only been a few months since you'd met jun. after being cast as the leading couple in a long-awaited chinese drama, you quickly became good friends. you were already well known for your good chemistry with one another, leading the drama to a renewal halfway through the first season.

being jun's costar was the easiest thing you'd ever done. he was an easygoing guy (easy on the eyes too), and just overall extremely likable. you didn't want to get your hopes up, but you liked to believe that he found you just as likable, considering how often he sought you out.

jun had grown a tendency of stopping by your dressing room every day after filming with the excuse of going over lines for the following day. this usually meant staying on set a little later than anyone else, but you enjoyed the company too much to ever even think of complaining. the overtime was completely worth it if it meant spending a little extra alone time with wen junhui.

there was a slight huge chance that the romance you'd been portraying on screen had begun making its way onto real life. you didnt want to get your hopes up, but if jun's flirtatious demeanor was anything to go by, you were pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

there was truly no need for jun to stop by and go over his lines with you outside of official rehearsal hours — especially considering that he had been acting since infancy. you liked to believe that he simply liked the alone time with you and wanted to keep you to himself for as long as he could. you only hoped he would eventually ask you out for real, or else you'd have to take matters into your own hands.

"show me your acting skills, then, wen," you challenged, gesturing at him to get closer to you on the couch.

with a smirk, he scoot over, taking hold of the stacked up pile of papers on the coffee table in front of you which contained the script.

"what do you want to start with?," he asked, "the confession scene from the twelfth episode?", he began listing off scenes, "the big conflict on episode ten?", then his grin grew bigger, "or the sex scene for the season finale?"

"please," you scoffed, "no way you can start with the sex scene. you've never done any sex scenes before, wen. i have," you challenged.

it was true. despite his history as an actor, he had never engaged in any explicit roles before. this did not diminish him as an actor, nor did you actually believe he'd have any trouble getting the mood right for the scene, but riling him up was just far too enticing. it was also one of the only areas where you had more experience than him, having done roles that involved such scenes a few times already.

"what, you think i can't make a convincing sex scene?", he fake gasped, "people always say our chemistry's unmatched, and we both know why," he smirked by the end of his statement, chuckling at your scowl.

"oh? why's that?", you challenged him.

"i exude sex appeal," he claimed, "i'd be the best sex scene you'd ever shot," he leaned towards you with a challenging look in his eyes.

"show me," you dared him, "if you're that good, show me. no script."

he swallowed a scoff, both shocked at at the defiant look in your eyes and the very sudden change of atmosphere in the room.

"you're serious?" he almost gulped at the way you reclined against the couch, allowing the angle to show him the heavy breathing that had your chest going up and down, "you want me to-"

"i wanna see if you're all talk. we haven't had any steamy kiss scenes yet, so show me. give me a preview of the season finale."

those were the last words you needed to say before he began invading your space, pushing you slowly until you were laying on the couch while he hovered over you. he was slow yet intentional in his moves, wordless as he adjusted himself on top of you.

he was slow as he lowered his lips onto yours, eyeing them heavily before closing in on you. contrary to what you'd believed, he started at full force, not bothering to build up the kiss and instead giving you all of him immediately.

the original scene involved a very slow build up with a steamy finish, so you knew within seconds that jun had thrown away any intention to actually rehearse the scene but rather prove you wrong about your assertion about his lack of expertise in the area. however, you knew that it was far more than that. the kiss felt like more than just arguing against your assessment.

you mewled into his lips when his hands went to touch you, gripping onto your waist to pull you closer and adjusting himself so he could grind his hips into your own.

"i thought i couldn't do a sex scene? whats with all those noises? i've barely touched you," his breath was warm as he chuckled against you, moving onto your neck to lay kisses there.

"shut up. this is nothing. i could do this in my sleep," you challenged.

it didn't take long for him to begin undressing you, frustrated huffs accompanying his every move. you ended up in mere panties and a bra while he remained in his boxers. far too many illicit touches and kisses were shared in between to count.

"why am i naked, wen? i thought we were just rehearsing."

"im just making sure i get my point across," he lied through his teeth, hovering over you once more in order to get the upper hand again.

"god, you're so pretty. no wonder everyone wants you in their shows," he awe'd at you as he took off your bra, hands softly touching at the uncovered skin.

"or maybe because i'm a great actress."

"yeah, but you already know that," he smiled.

"i already know that," you affirmed with a similar smile before connecting your lips again.

any pretense for rehearsing left you after that point. both your hands itched to get the other closer, finally ending up with him lined up to your cunt and with your hands pulling at his boxers, lowering them just enough to pump at his hardness.

"baby ..."

"thought you were good at this, wen. thought you were gonna show me your skills," you teased.

"shut up. i'll, fuck, i'll show you."

his hands copied your movements, sneaking beneath your panties to tease at your arousal with his fingers. his actions elicited a similar reaction from you, moaning into his mouth as you both played with each other, so close to finally connecting in that carnal way you'd been aching but not close enough.

you worked him with your hand as he did the same to you, only stopping when he huffed what sounded like a painful breath and pleaded at you to stop. you were going to laugh at him once more, tease him for his weakness at your touch, but you needed to feel him now and decided to let it go.

grabbing onto his own cock, he began running up through your swollen lips, further lubricating them with his precum and groaning at the pulse he felt under his touch.

"hmph, f-fuck," he cried into your lips upon beginning to enter you, seeking silent permission to move.

a nod from you and he began pumping into you, groaning at every single move. the stretch made your eyes roll back, making you lose your mind little by little at every thrust.

"you're tighter than i imagined, shit," he groaned.

"o-oh? you imagined this?", you couldn't help stammering when he hammered into you as he did.

"shut up," was all he said before burying his face in the crook of your neck, nose breathing you in and lips pressing onto the skin.

your nails dragged down his back, careless despite knowing you'd both get scolded by your stylists for adding to their workload. it was fine, though, you thought. this was all in the name of working on your on-screen chemistry after all, right?

but it felt like way more. jun may have fucked into you with conviction, but the words of affection murmured into your skin gave a different story.

"beautiful, fuck."

"feel like a fucking dream ..."

"prettiest, tightest cunt ive ever had."

those were some of the many words kissed and bitten against your skin. it made you so dizzy you didn't even register when your orgasm began to approach.

his hand had at some point snuck between you, toying at your swollen clit as his thrusts became erratic. the end was near and he wanted to take you down with him.

"with me? cum with me, baby," he practically pleaded as his lips found yours again.

it was like this that you swallowed each other's moans, keeping your pleasure as a secret between the two of you.

even as he filled you up, he remained inside you. he managed to sit you up, allowing for the two of you to cuddle on the uncomfortably small couch in which he'd just defiled you.

"so, no sex-appeal, huh?"

"shut up, wen. i'd run laps with you on set."

"wanna bet?", his hands began feeling up at your body with a challenging glint in his eye.

and yes. yes, you did.

[m1rotics]

A lil mommy seonghwa fic because I need him more than air right now

It's around eleven when you make it home, you were supposed to get off at seven, but you got piled up and with extra tasks forcing you to work overtime, and traffic was bad on the way home. You can feel your bones get weighed down as you step through the door. The entirety of your body feels so incredibly heavy, you yawn, stretching your back. You slip out of your shoes, tucking them neatly in the corner. You hang up your keys and shuffle to the living room.

Seonghwa's strung across the couch, reading a book, and you collapse into his arms as fast as you can. Melting into him with a satisfied hum, soaking in the sweet scent of his cologne. He lets out a surprised noise, but he quickly relaxes, placing a hand on your back.

"hi, baby," he croons. The sound of his heart beating and the gentle rocking of his breathing lulling you to sleep. You drift between a limbo of consciousness and the sweet relief of sleep. You could pass out right here if he'd let you.

you mumble, "s been such a long day, mommy."

He rubs soothing circles onto your back, "I know, baby. You've been working so hard. You just want your mommy to take care of you?"

You mutter something incomprehensible, but seonghwa doesn't make you repeat it, he knows you do. He understands without you saying anything at all.

"poor thing, have you eaten?"

You shake your head, looking up at him with tired eyes and a pout, "skipped lunch.”

He tuts, "well, that won't do. C'mon let's go get some food in your stomach."

You open your mouth to protest, to tell him you don't need to eat, you just need him. But he hushes you with a kiss, and then he's ushering you off the couch and into the kitchen. You settle into a chair while he begins to whip something up for you. Usually, you'd spark up conversation and ask him about his day, but you can't bring yourself to speak. The two of you sit in comfortable silence.

He comes back with a bowl of noodles, setting it down in front of you and lowering himself into the chair next to you. And for a moment, simply looking at it makes you feel sick, and you hesitate to even touch your food. Seonghwa, however, doesn't bat an eye, taking matters into his own hands. He lifts the noodles to your mouth, and waits for you to take it. It turns into a routine after that: blow on it, then lift it to your mouth, and then he wipes your face when some broth gets on your chin.

He comes back with a bowl of noodles, setting it down in front of you and lowering himself into the chair next to you. And for a moment, simply looking at it makes you feel sick, and you hesitate to even touch your food. Seonghwa, however, doesn't bat an eye, taking matters into his own hands. He lifts the noodles to your mouth, and waits for you to take it. It turns into a routine after that: blow on it, then lift it to your mouth, and then he wipes your face when some broth gets on your chin.

If you weren't so exhausted, you'd feel childish. embarrassed even, and, to be honest, a piece of you does feel bad. Ashamed of the fact you can barely take care of yourself like a normal person, of the fact you need someone to do it for you.

But seonghwa's cooing at you the whole time, a pleased little smile on his face when you take each bite he offers, looking at you with such warmth. You try to remind yourself he wants to do this for you, but you can't help the way the doubts swallow you up like wildfire.

"Are you sick of doing this?" You manage to whisper as he prepares to feed you the last bite. He just looks at you, incredulous. "it's fine if you are, I won't be mad. Not at all actually. I...I could leave you alone. If you don't want me to burden you with my problems.”

Then he frowns, eyebrows knitting together, before sighing. He holds the noodles to your mouth, and you tentatively take it, chewing slowly.

"I'm not sick of doing this for you," he says, and it's painfully soft. "I enjoy taking care of you, I hope you know that. It's not a burden if I enjoy doing this for you, you understand that, right?”

You nod, slowly like you're unsure, like you're contemplating if he's telling the truth.

"I enjoy this just as much as you do, and you may not believe me, but I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't." He says this as he washes the bowl out, and you can't help but find the words slightly comforting.

You're not forcing him to do this for you. It isn't an obligation, nor an expectation. He simply does it because he can, because he wants to. That fact is jarring, hard to wrap your mind around.

You get knocked out of your thoughts when his hands rest on your shoulders, "now lets get you ready for bed, baby.”

It's easier to follow his lead after that. Let your mind get fuzzy at the edges while you take a backseat, and you fall right into the safe hold of his satiny, smooth voice. You trail him into the bedroom.

"go take a shower, I'll have your clothes ready when you come out."

You let out an affirmative noise, already heading straight to the bathroom. Once the hot water runs over your skin, you ascend. It soothes the ache hiding deep in your bones, and you catch yourself swaying. You hop out of the shower, wrap a towel around yourself, and drag yourself to the bedroom. Seonghwa glances up at you, "come here, stand in front of me."

You obey, coming to stand within arms reach of him. He picks up a pair of baby pink underwear, and you are now very aware of what he wants. He holds them in front of you and you step into them, pulling them up your legs; naturally, he does the same with the shorts he picked out.

He stands up, and you lift your arms. He slides the shirt over your head.

It's a cute sleep set, black and light pink. A little pocket on the breast. He takes a step back to admire the way it looks on you.

"you're so pretty, baby," he croons, and rubs his hands up and down your arms. Feather-light touches that make goosebumps rise on your skin.

"thank you."

His eyes meet yours, and he raises a brow.

"thank you, mommy," you're quick to fix your mistake.

He smiles, and it's so pretty your heart almost stops.

"Sit on the bed, I'll be right back."

You perch yourself on the edge, staring at your knees. Surprisingly, you're not thinking much of anything right now. Perhaps that's a blessing, a silent gift from seonghwa. You don't know how he manages to quiet your thoughts better than you do. You pray he never stops. You don't think you'd make it without him.

He comes back with lotion, and all too gracefully sinks to his knees. He squeezes some into his hand. He places your foot on his thigh, and rubs the lotion in. His touch is firm but gentle, massaging it into your skin. He takes your foot in his hands and kneads the lotion into your soles. More tension slipping out of you as the second fly by. The room smells like flowers, roses specifically. Fresh and bright.

When he's done, he kisses the top of your foot and moves onto the other leg. His lips are plump and soft against your skin. He repeats the process on the other leg, adding a kiss to both of your knees. He sits on the bed to do your arms. He finishes up with a kiss to both wrists, lingering a beat. He takes your hand, and simply holds it for a minute, staring at them with a dreamy look. He presses a kiss to the tips of your fingers. Delicate, barely there.

"I love you," he says, and you cup his cheek with your hand. He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. Leaning forward, you plant a kiss on his lips, "I love you too."

"Let's lay down," he says, and with that all your exhaustion floods your mind again. you wiggle further into bed, rolling onto your side. Seonghwa crawls behind you. The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces, and he slings an arm over your waist, holding you close.

[beef-brisket]

Charlie: That's good, dad. I'm glad you're acknowledging your wrongs. That's the first step!

Lucifer smiled weakly. But she's right. It is the beginning. He can start over, Adam is a fresh slate.

Lucifer: Can I see him?

Charlie thought about it for a second: I don't see why you can't. You're not trying to attack an Adam that isn't there, and if I'm honest, it'll benefit him if he saw you.

Lucifer: R-Really? You think so?

Charlie: I do. He's been worried and sad that he may have done something to stress you out, to make you lash out at him. His room is all set up. He's settling it. But you're the one thing that's still on his mind. I think you two talking would be really great- BUT. Only if you think you're up for it. You look tired, dad. And I don't want you stressing out anymore.

Lucifer nodded. He should sleep. He hasn't had a solid sleep in a while. Not since the fake Adam turned up.

Lucifer: ...I don't want to say anything wrong or act up because... I'm exhausted. So, I might sleep, Charlie. If that's okay.

Charlie: That's perfectly fine, dad. I'm glad you're making that call. Go get some rest, and I'll tell Adam that you'll talk tomorrow.

Lucifer thanked his daughter, giving her a hug and a kiss. It was still a little awkward between them, but he wanted to work on their relationship, too. Maybe one thing at a time.

In Your Head

Lucifer sighed as he held the guitar that he took from the battlefield. It was Adams guitar and aside from a few scratches it looked like it was in perfect condition.

Lucifer: I'm going to miss you old friend.

Though, was friend the right word? Adam was so much more than a friend to Lucifer.

Watching him get stabbed like that had been very hard.

Was it though?

Lucifer snapped his head up, eyes wide as he looked at the angel he thought to be long dead, his helmet gone and golden blood staining his robe.

Lucifer: A-Adam? What, how are you here!?

Adam smiled at him and it was too sweet for the Adam of today the one that he turned into. But not the Adam he knew in Eden.

Adam: Oh come on Luci, you're smarter than that. No one comes back from an angelic blade to the heart. Thanks for that by the way.

That nickname sliced through his core, he hadn't heard it in so long he almost forgot that's what Adam used to call him.

Lucifer: You're not real are you?

Adam: Bingo baby! Awww, it's actually sweet. You miss me so much that I actually take up space in that head of yours.

Lucifer: Why are you so..... Nice? But look like that?

Adam shrugged and moved to sit down beside him: Probably because you don't really remember what I looked like in Eden, but more how I acted. So you just kinda...... Married the past with the present. I don't know boo, it's your mind.

Lucifer felt Adam touch his hair as if to tuck it behind his ear, but since he wasn't real the hand just went right through him.

Lucifer: I don't get it, you weren't like this in Eden.

Adam: Maybe I'm a version you've always wanted.

That made sense in a way.

Lucifer: Why would I want a polite slightly flirty version of you?

Adam smiled gently and leaned in: Come on Luci, you know why. Stop lying to yourself.~

His breath hitched in his throat, sure he had always thought about what could have been between them but...... It was always just a fantasy.

Adam: A fantasy you could have made real.~

Lucifer: You didn't want me.

Adam: How would you know? You never asked or tried. You could have had me all to yourself.

Lucifer: I could have?

Adam: Yeah. But now you never will.

@fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket

[mya-valentine]

Can I request a fem! Reader x Kinich and ororon separate (can be headcannon or fic) at the hot springs please?

Headcanon: Going to the Hot Springs with Kinich and Ororon

A/N: Can't wait to pull for Ororon

Kinich

Kinich doesn’t make a big deal out of the trip, but he makes sure you have everything you need. If he sees you forgot a towel or water, he’ll place it beside you without a word, acting like it was just common sense.

Even in a relaxed setting, Kinich is vigilant. He’ll subtly position himself so he’s between you and any strangers at the springs, always keeping an eye out for anything that might disturb your peace.

When you express excitement about the springs, he smirks and raises an eyebrow. “You’re acting like it’s a life-changing experience,” he’ll say dryly, though his tone is softer than usual. His subtle smile lets you know he’s enjoying seeing you so relaxed.

Kinich isn’t the type to get too affectionate in public, but he’ll lean back in the water close to you, resting his arm along the side of the spring where you’re sitting. To anyone else, it might look casual, but to you, it feels like a reassuring, silent expression of affection.

If the water gets too hot or you look tired, Kinich suggests taking a break, his voice laced with a rare hint of concern. “Overdoing it isn’t relaxing,” he says plainly, but the careful look he gives you tells you he’s just looking out for you.

He appreciates the peace and quiet, and there’s something calming about simply sitting together in the hot water, watching the steam rise. Kinich finds these silent, tranquil moments to be the perfect way to share time with you.

Ororon

Ororon has an unusual relationship with comfort and peace due to his life’s challenges. When you suggest the hot springs, he’s hesitant, more out of unfamiliarity than disinterest. He’s a bit reserved, unsure if he can allow himself to relax, but he’s curious because it’s something that seems so natural to you.

While you settle into the hot water, he studies the surroundings and observes you quietly, intrigued by how easily you relax. His watchful eyes follow every small shift of the water, every bead of steam rising, as if he’s learning a new ritual.

Given his reserved nature, Ororon isn’t overtly affectionate, but he’s deeply attentive. He’ll find subtle ways to ensure you’re comfortable—quietly passing you water, adjusting your towel, so on and so forth (Granny Citlali raised him right 😌)

In the quiet, tranquil atmosphere, Ororon is more vulnerable than usual. He might quietly open up, sharing fragments of his past, his connection with the Wayob, or even his complicated sense of purpose. The calm of the hot springs helps him shed a bit of his guarded exterior, allowing glimpses into his inner world.

Even in such a relaxed setting, Ororon’s protective instincts linger. He keeps an eye on anyone who comes near and instinctively positions himself to subtly shield you. It’s his way of ensuring your peace and safety, a small part of his life mission to protect those who matter to him.

Ororon rarely expresses enjoyment openly, but the longer he spends with you in the warm water, the more he relaxes. He closes his eyes, a faint, peaceful smile appearing as he lets the warmth ease his tense muscles. He might murmur softly, almost to himself, “It’s… different. But… nice.”

.

.

.

Masterlist

[writeforfandoms]

Island 8

Find the series masterlist

The group of you are finally ready to leave the base and start on, hopefully, the final journey on the Island.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, mention of hunting, anxiety, general feelings of low self-worth, typical stuff for Survivor for this series.

Word count: 2.7k

It took a further three days to have everything as prepped as you wanted. You made batches and batches of hard biscuits, using up all the flour. Berries would still be available along a lot of the route, so you didn't worry too much about that. Jerky was fortunately something you'd been making for a long time, so you had quite a bit of it to go around. Fresh meat would also be available along the route. 

Water was more of a concern, but you were still holding out hope for a drop with more canteens.

Price gave in to your logic, and finished taming the iguanodon, which was good. Ghost surprised the hell out of you by coming back with a stego. Even Soap managed to tame a parasaur. 

Gaz still wanted a hyaenadon, so you and he took the ghillie and cuts of meat and started taming. You worked on one - Gaz somehow managed to work on two. It did take two days, as you'd predicted, but it worked. 

Leaving the lot of you with plenty of tames to carry things and help guard the group. Hopefully you'd be able to tame a few more things along the way, since you weren't worried much about being able to feed them all until you got to the volcano. 

Really, it was a pretty good start. 

Soap and Gaz did a good portion of the packing, with Price and Ghost handling the weapons and ammunition. Another thing you wouldn't mind finding more of in a drop. 

You kept track of everything, made sure everyone had some armor and kept essentials on them. Just in case. 

You didn't even object when Gaz swapped out one of your armor pieces for something heavier. 

The morning you were set to leave was… hard. Not for any reasons you'd expected. Packing went quickly and seamlessly, all the tames behaving themselves. Even Ripper wasn't trying to maul anyone. 

No, it was difficult for you to leave. You didn't want to leave. You didn't want to leave the safety of your base. You weren't ready to venture into the relative unknown.

Even with the four men by your side. 

“Ready?” Gaz finally prompted you, even as one of the tames snorted and shuffled behind you. 

You breathed in deep one last time, hands steady as you straightened your shirt. “Ready.” You turned your back on the base and took your place at the front, leading the whole group away. 

You didn't look back. 

If your guesses were right, it would take about four days to reach the volcano, since the lot of you weren't pushing, and were moving more cautiously. Maybe three, if things went well and nobody got in trouble and there weren't any distractions. 

You had enough food to last a week, just in case. 

The first day was easy. Nothing bothered you. All was quiet. Feeding everyone was easy - the herbivores grazed as you all walked, and you let Ripper and the hyaenadons after a few dodos. Gaz helped you build up the campfire for the night, helping you cook as the others took care of settling everything else. 

“Ye never did tell us how to tame a raptor,” Soap said, eyeing Ripper where the raptor had settled behind you for the night. 

“I didn't?” You blinked, surprised. You could have sworn you'd told them already. “Well, it's not easy. The hyaenadons are probably the easiest, honestly.” You swallowed a few berries, thinking over how you wanted to phrase it. 

“And the rest?” Price had a keen eye on you, even as he swapped a pot of boiling water for a fresh pot. 

“Well, first step is to not get killed,” you answered dryly, smirking at his dissatisfied huff. “You have to trap the predators. Usually that means with something like a bear trap. Feed them while they're stuck and can't go anywhere. Tom was pretty good at building traps that were less harmful, things you could lead a raptor into without risking your arm.” 

“Traps, eh?” Price eyed you, clearly considering. “Did he teach you?” 

“Yes,” you said slowly, hesitantly. “But we won't have time to build any traps, not on our route. The only chance we'd have of taming one is if we found one already trapped or injured.” 

“But it could be done,” Price pressed. 

“Sure,” you agreed with a shrug. “Still takes time, so we'd have to pause somewhere nearby, but it could be done, hypothetically. I don't know if we'll need more carnivores though, honestly. I wouldn't say no to more trikes or stegos.” 

Price sat back, his curiosity apparently assuaged for the moment. 

“How did Tom teach ye?” Soap asked, still looking curious. 

“Showed me what he had done with Ripper,” you said, shrugging again. “We had plenty of time. Not like we had anywhere else to be.” You paused, swallowing back bitterness. “At least, that's what we figured at the time.” 

Silence settled over the camp for a few long moments, the others giving you time to calm again. You didn't look at them, instead choosing to look at the fire, letting the movement of the flames distract you from your feelings. 

You owed a lot to Tom, and you'd never have a chance to repay him. 

But maybe if you got these men out… maybe your debt would be closer to settled. 

“What else did he teach you?” Gaz was the one to break the silence. “About tames.”

You smiled a little. “Which ones to avoid, like dodos,” you answered easily. “Which ones were easier to tame. Where to find the different creatures.” 

“You seen a lot of this place, then?” Soap piped up, watching keenly.

“A fair bit. Not the snowy lands, not the volcano. But I did make the mistake of going through the swamp once.” You shuddered in remembered terror and revulsion. “Huge bugs. Terrifying crocodile-things, except bigger. Lots of fighting and hunting going on in the swamp, all the time.” 

“Didn't ye have to go there to get the leech?” Soap looked faintly concerned. 

You shrugged. “I stayed to the outside, only went in far enough to find a leech and run. It was fine.” You reached behind you to pat Ripper. The raptor chirruped at you, clearly pleased with the attention. 

“Good thing that's not on the way,” Gaz managed to joke, his attention still focused on you. 

“Very good thing,” you agreed. “Although once we get into the mountains, there will be plenty of bad shit to keep us busy.” 

“We're prepared for that,” Price pointed out, seemingly unconcerned. 

You decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. You'd already expressed concern about the danger, more than once, so further harping on it wouldn't get you anywhere. Especially since these four could now survive on their own. They didn't actually need you anymore. 

It was what you'd worked towards with them, for them, but it was still a slightly terrifying thought. That they would survive without you. 

You shook yourself, getting rid of the worst of the what ifs and maybes, and stood to do a quick round of checks. Now that dark had fallen, it would be best to sleep in shifts, something the four of them had divided up quite nicely. 

You weren’t going to object. Not tonight. Tomorrow, though, you’d insist on pulling your weight. 

Soap, Price, and Ghost all settled down, apparently content to go to sleep. Soap even went so far as to roll away from the fire, his hair even more of a mess than usual. 

Gaz stayed where he was, seated, shoulders relaxed but gaze alert. The firelight cast odd shadows around him, flickering and dancing. Far from scaring you, however, you just thought him beautiful like this. 

“You should get some sleep,” he murmured to you, voice lowered in deference to his teammates. 

“I will,” you agreed. “In a few minutes.” You breathed in deep, the cold air mixed with the smell of the fire both soothing and exhilarating. “You see the island very differently.”

“Do I?” He sounded curious, glancing at you as you settled a little closer to him. You told yourself it was so you could keep your voices down, let the others sleep.

You didn't acknowledge that you just wanted to be close to him. 

Well. You tried not to acknowledge that, anyway. 

“You still see the wonder of it,” you murmured, letting your own gaze drift past the fire to the dark woods beyond. “The beauty of this place. I can't see it anymore. I just see danger.” 

Gaz was quiet for a few moments before he leaned over enough to nudge his shoulder up against yours. “You've been alone a long time,” he murmured. “Hypervigilance is not surprising.” 

You sighed softly, leaning just a little into the comfort he offered. “I'm tired,” you admitted, so quiet you were sure he couldn't hear you. 

But he surprised you, turning enough to wrap one solid arm around your shoulders. “I'm here,” he whispered, head tipped towards your ear, foreheads nearly touching. “I'll help. Any way I can.” 

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears, refusing to let them escape. “You already are.” 

His arm tightened around you, comforting and grounding, letting you breathe more easily. Neither of you said another word. None were needed. The shared warmth and comfort was more than enough for you. 

And when you woke in the morning next to Gaz, rather than where you'd originally set your things down, no one said anything. Soap looked like he wanted to, but he didn't. (The sharp-looking elbow from Gaz might've helped with that.) 

It didn't take long until the lot of you were walking again. You had the map, mostly ignoring Price peering over your shoulder at it. You didn't need the map yet, but you wanted to be sure the lot of you weren't getting lost. 

“Drops up ahead,” Ghost called from the back of the group. 

You paused and shaded your eyes, looking up until you spotted them. One green drop and one white. Your heart thumped in excitement. White drops were rare, and usually had really good stuff. 

“Looks like they'll be falling up ahead,” Price said, having also spotted them. “Nearly dead ahead.” 

“The white one is a bit off course,” you mused. “But it should be fine. We're not that close to the horse clan here, I think we're outside their normal range.” 

“You think?” Price raised one eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I was less focused on keeping up with their territories, and more focused on surviving,” you pointed out, eyes narrowing at him. 

Price huffed but held his hands up in apparent surrender. Satisfied, you looked back at the drops. The green would be directly on the way, easy to stop and grab. 

An ankylosaurus wandered out of the trees in front of the group, snorting once at the lot of you before continuing to look for berries. 

“Slight change of plans,” you murmured, excited now. “You lot go to the green drop and wait for it there. I'll tame this anky and meet up with you.” 

“You shouldn't stay out here on your own,” Gaz interrupted, having clearly been eavesdropping. 

You shrugged. “So someone can volunteer to stay with me,” you said, unbothered. “Won't take three of you long to get everything out of the green drop anyway.” 

“I'll stay,” Gaz immediately offered. 

Price sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something too quiet for you to understand. He sounded faintly exasperated. “Fine,” he agreed, lowering his hand again. “Soap, Ghost, on me.” He strode ahead, and you whistled the tames to follow him. 

From behind, it was rather fun to see the small herd of creatures following the beleaguered-looking captain. A sentiment Soap seemed to share with you, snickering as he passed. 

“More tames?” Gaz asked after the group had pulled ahead. 

“Ankys are pretty good defense,” you pointed out. “Not sure how much they can carry, but that tail is a good deterrent for a lot of predators.” 

“Not arguing,” he was quick to say, holding out a bag of berries. “Just surprised we're taking the time to do this now, is all.” 

You shrugged, pulling out a dark red berry and rolling it between your fingertips. “Way I see it, we have plenty of time,” you pointed out. “And more tames can't hurt.” 

Gaz nodded, accepting your logic. “So, approach slowly and feed it until it likes you?” He guessed with a little grin. 

You couldn't help your huff of amusement. “Basically,” you agreed. “Keep an eye out and shout if you see trouble.” You left him there, walking over closer to the anky. 

It wasn't a long process to feed, fortunately. The anky was hungry, and eager to take berries even from your hand. By the time the other group had the drop packed away, you had the anky following you, docile as any tame. 

“Anything good in that drop?” You asked as you and Gaz walked up to the rest of the group. 

“A canteen,” Soap answered, holding it up to show you. “And more ammo.” 

“Not bad,” you agreed with a little grin. “I hope the white drop has more good stuff.” 

The white drop seemed to be a bit off the path you'd drawn for the journey, edging closer to the edge of the Pink Ladies’ territory. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem. Hopefully it would be worth it. 

This time, Gaz stayed next to you as you walked. You didn't mind his company, even when you heard a bit of snickering and hushed murmurs behind you. Soap, at a guess. And maybe Price. 

The white drop was a bit larger than the average drop, and it only took moments to pry the top open. 

The first thing you grabbed happened to be a bundle of incendiary arrows. You whistled lowly, impressed. 

“Hardly ever see these,” you mused, passing them to Soap. “Those could come in handy.” 

The jar of oil went right after the arrows, and your grin felt a little sharp. A little feral, possibly. 

Those arrows would be an excellent way to defend your group, if needed. 

Two more canteens, bigger and heavy-duty, met with your approval. More ammo, for all the weapons. A precious jar of cure-all. Two bags of jerky. And a bola, which you’d never had a chance to use before. 

“That was a good drop,” you said, grinning, very pleased. “Very good drop.” 

“Good to have supplies,” Price agreed, finishing stowing away the last of the extra ammo. 

“Now that this is done, we can keep going.” You didn't bother with taking the crate this time. No need, not if you lot actually got off the island. And building took too long on the road to be helpful. 

Ghost hissed through his teeth. “Got eyes on,” he said suddenly. 

The shift in the men around you was palpable, shoulders drawing up, expressions changing. Gaz shifted so he was half in front of you, physically blocking you. 

You'd be impressed if you weren't trying to peer over his shoulder to see what was ahead. 

Three Painted Ladies stood ahead, basically in the way. Your heart sank. You hadn't dealt much with them, not in a while, but the red dye on their faces and clothes made it clear. The two marked tames behind them made you a little nervous - an anky and a dire bear. You hadn't seen a dire bear in ages. 

You'd forgotten how big they got. 

You breathed in slowly, eyeing the distance between your groups. The Painted Ladies weren't approaching, weren't trying to get closer. Clearly waiting. 

You'd have to go to them. 

“You lot stay here,” you said, quiet but firm. “They won't deal with you.” 

“But–!” Soap started to protest, one hand already on a rifle. 

“No.” You shook your head a little. “They won't talk to you. They'll talk to me.” 

Price looked back at you, calculating. Then he nodded once, firm and steady. “Gaz, keep back, but follow her.” 

You didn't object that time. Having Gaz at your back made you feel better, even if you knew he couldn't help. So you breathed in deep, until the ache of it filled your lungs. 

Then you started forward, projecting confidence you didn't feel.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven

Content Warnings: Adult content, mostly accurate depictions of being an onlyfans creator (hi, I am one), reader is fem, uses a wheelchair, and has cerebral palsy.

The pain is an old acquaintance, but its visits are no less unwelcome. It starts in the small of your back, a dull throb that radiates upward until it rests heavily on your shoulders, seeping into your muscles and settling there like a weight you can't shake off. You've known this discomfort many times before—it's as much a part of your life as the wheelchair beneath you—but familiarity doesn't make it easier to bear.

On better days, you might distract yourself with work, lose yourself in the process of filming and editing until the hours slip away and the pain becomes a distant hum. But today isn't one of those days. Today, the pain screams for attention, and no matter how hard you try to push it aside, it refuses to be silenced.

You sit stiffly in your chair, every inch of your body tense as you stare at the screen of your laptop. Notifications blink in the sidebar—messages from subscribers, comments on your latest post, purchases from your latest PPV video. On any other day, these would bring a flicker of satisfaction, a reminder of the community you've built and the support they offer. But today, they're just another task, another demand on your time and energy when you have so little to spare.

The thought of spending the next hour fielding messages, putting on a brave face and keeping up the pretence of high spirits despite your fatigue is daunting. You know your limits, and right now, they're closing in. To push through would be to invite a storm of pain that could sideline you for days. And that's a risk you can't afford.

Drawing in a deep breath, you open a new message to your subscribers. You've done this before—those rare times when the pain became too much, and you needed to step away for a bit. Always vague, never revealing the true reason behind your absence. You've kept your health private since the beginning, and you don't intend to change that now.

You: Hey everyone 💕 just a quick note to let you know that some personal stuff has come up, and I need to take a break from messages for a few days. No worries, though! I have plenty of content scheduled, so you'll still see new videos and posts while I'm away. I'll be back to answering messages soon, but I just need a little time off. Thanks for understanding 💕 I'll talk to you soon.

The message sends, a faint sense of guilt washing over you. It's not that you've ever promised to be available around the clock, but there is an unspoken obligation that comes with managing your page. Your subscribers pay for the privilege of access, and while the content will continue as usual, it's the personal interaction that some of them crave.

You can almost see the responses now, words of concern mingling with offers of support. But those are worries for another time. Right now, all you need is rest, a reprieve from the constant demands of your online persona.

The pain has spread to your legs, a dull throb that promises no respite. A weariness settles over you, heavy around your eyes. You've done what you needed to do, set the wheels in motion for the next few days. Now, there's nothing left but to try and rest, despite the discomfort radiating from your body.

You manoeuvre your wheelchair closer to the bed, then reach out, fingers grasping the sheets. With a grunt, you pull yourself onto the mattress, each movement sending fresh waves of pain through your limbs. But finally, you're settled, your head sinking into the pillows. It's not perfect—far from it—but it's a hell of a lot better than the chair.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on your breathing—in, out, in, out—trying to push away the persistent ache. For a while, there's only the sound of your own heartbeat, a steady rhythm in the quiet room.

Just as sleep begins to claim you, your phone buzzes on the bedside table. Your hand shoots out, instinctively reaching for the device. Another notification, another chance for income—it's a lifeline you can't afford to ignore. The screen lights up, casting a glow across your face. It's OnlyFans again, this time with a message from Prongs.

ProngsPlayground_free: I sent you a $100.00 tip with the attached message of 'Hey, love. Saw your message—hope everything’s okay. You don’t have to respond or anything, just wanted to send a little something to make your day a bit better 💖 take care of yourself.'

This isn’t the first time Prongs has tipped big, but this feels different. There’s no pay-per-view content you’ve sent, no special offer enticing the extra credits. He's tipped just because.

The screen blurs for a moment as you blink away sudden tears. You can’t afford to let them fall, not with the makeup you’ve painstakingly applied, but the emotion is there all the same. Gratitude swells within you, raw and real, mingling with something else—a sense of connection that goes beyond the superficial exchanges you’re used to. Fans don’t usually do this, not without expecting something in return. Tips often come with demands; they are transactions, not gifts. But this... this feels genuine.

Prongs doesn’t know the half of it, doesn’t know the circumstances behind your plea, but he seems to care. Is it possible? Can someone who watches you night after night from a world away actually see you—not the fantasy, but the person beneath?

A flicker of temptation stirs within you, the thought of thanking him for his words, just a brief reply to acknowledge that you've seen it. It would be nothing more than a courtesy, a small gesture to show he isn't shouting into the void. But you remember why you sent the message in the first place—you need to disconnect, retreat from the world and nurse your wounds in solitude. You can't afford to engage, not even with Prongs, whose energy often brings comfort and laughter.

Not today.

Nevertheless, as you set the phone aside, a faint smile tugs at your lips. It's but a small thing, this unseen thread connecting you to another soul in the vastness of the universe, yet it lightens the weight on your chest, if only for a moment. He doesn't know the truth of your situation, the depth of the shadows clouding your vision, but the simple act of reaching out, however unknowingly, reminds you that you're not entirely alone.

The day stretches on, feeling longer than most as your body refuses to cooperate. The pain ebbs and flows like a tide against the shore of your tolerance. You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, watching videos, but nothing holds your attention for long. Your thoughts keep circling back to your OnlyFans account, the accumulating messages, the content you're unable to create.

You've always been organised, scheduling your posts at least two weeks in advance. No one will truly notice your absence from the platform—not yet—but the knowledge does little to ease the tension coiling in your gut. There's a gnawing sensation that you're falling behind, missing out on opportunities to grow your following, even as you know health should take precedence.

The sun has long since set, casting your room into a cocoon of darkness only broken by the glow of your computer screen, when another message notification pings.

ProngsPlayground_free: Just wanted to let you know that Moony and Pads send their love too. They asked me to pass it along. 😉 No need to reply, but we're all looking forward to having you back.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, a tiny release of tension in the tight coil of your chest. The heaviness is still there, yes, but so is something else. Something warm and quiet that whispers, "You're not alone."

Because it's true. You've always known, on an intellectual level, that OnlyFans is more than just content creation—it's about fostering connections, providing a personal touch even across the digital divide. But it's one thing to understand that in theory, and quite another to feel it so acutely when you're the one needing reassurance.

The thought of them—Prongs, Moony, Padfoot—possibly sitting together somewhere, their eyes glued to your videos, their hands flying over keyboards to send these messages. They care. It's a small balm on the raw wound of today, even if you cannot reach out to them in return.

Your eyelids grow heavy as you let the phone slip from your fingers and clatter onto the bedside table. You sink further into the plush pillows, body still aching, but mind finding a semblance of peace amidst the chaos. Maybe you won't be able to film for a while. Maybe you won't be able to reply to every message, every show of support. But that’s okay. Your fans, they understand. They'll wait for you, just like they always have.

And for now, that has to be enough.

[raycatz]

I'm not including a situation where someone might be injured because in that case I'm thinking the bed goes to them by default or they are nominated for it. anyone who wants to be chatty goes to join the living room floor gang.

What are your thoughts and headcanons? Do you have thoughts on how the boys tend to approach assigning beds in inns? Who do the chain choose to sleep near when camping and why? What are their dynamics like when settling down for the night and getting ready for the day?

In "Mirror Vs Open Closet Door: Fight!" by Gintrinsic (here) Four refers to the chain's decision on how to split up between inn rooms as the "Link-per-room ratio" which I find very funny. He, Sky, and Time also talk about their thought process behind why they do or don't want to sleep in a room with some of the others which I find fun and interesting.

So! If you have thoughts and want to share them! *gestures to the post!*

[roxyandelsewhere]

Angels’ trueforms in their most memorable moments [26/?] - Nephilim fetus: regular nephil, sired by a regular angel (above) and Jack, sired by Lucifer (below)

inprnt | society6 | redbubble | teepublic | ko-fi

[pvremichigan]

Whoopsie time

[mashmouths]

is it an adhd thing to need to reinvent the concept of a study space so you have any chance of actually studying or just a facet of being alive that no one warned me about

[lvllns]

there’s something very comforting in going from talking on skype until three in the morning almost every day to reaching out once every few months and yet. it feels like nothing has changed.

[sweetnans]

Katsuki is wide. He had grown a lot physically and mentally, but this time, we are going to focus on the physical part.

Bakugo Katsuki is the king of manspreading. He manspread in the common couch, he manspread in the train seat, he manspread even in bed. Unconsciously in his sleep. He can't help it. He is a big boy.

It's UA annual camp. There's cabins for boys and for girls. The cabins have only two beds each, so the students of class 3A and 3B are set in pairs.

You had a bad dream, and obviously, your first thought is going to Katsuki to find some comfort. It's pure instinct. You know his roommate is Kirishima, and he won't mind having you there to spend the rest of the night. Sleepovers between the three of you are something very usual.

It's almost 2 am. when you knock the boys door and then slowly twist the handle when no one responds to you. There's darkness everywhere, so you have to use your phone flashlight to find Katsuki's bed, when you find it you know it's going to be a hard work.

"Babe," you whisper. "Wake up, make room to me"

He is spread like a starfish. The duvet is falling on one side, and the blankets are rolled up at the end of the bed.

You look at Kirishima for support, and he's sleeping wrapped up like a burrito. The difference between the two of them is kinda fun.

"Katsuki," you try again. Thank god it's almost summer because standing there while freezing it was not an available option for you. "Baby, please," you murmur.

"Bakubro" Kirishima stirs awake for a moment and then fall asleep again.

Miraculously, he rolls to the other side and leaves you a tiny space to curl up against him.

Katsuki wakes up in the morning to an empty bed. He's confused. He swears he heard you coming last night, and he is almost sure you spend the night with him. When he sees you having breakfast on your own, he's quick enough to sit by your side, Kirishima joining you two after a mere second.

"I thought you were with me in bed last night." he doesn't say good morning or how do you sleep. He goes straight to the point.

"Yeah, but you pushed me off the bed," you say, not even looking at his puzzled face. Kirishima looks at both of you and forbids himself to laugh.

You had a shitty night of sleep, so you can't help feeling a little defensive on that one.

Katsuki knows his habits of sleep very well, and he feels like a bad excuse of a boyfriend because of the notorious bags under your eyes and your obvious lack of will to be up so early in the morning.

"Next time, jump me and settle yourself on the side against the wall," he grunts, obviously annoyed to himself. You hum in response, accepting the bowl of cereal he is pushing to your side as a truce.

There won't be such a thing as next time.

Next time he would make sure to be wide awake when you come running at him because of a bad dream, of course.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[weisshapt]

if i start so much as looking at doing part 2 of that family tree before at least a month has passed someone come into my house and snap my laptop in half

[angelshimaa]

𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

✧ cw :: gn!reader, fluff, you're on bkg's lap, he lifts you briefly (no comment on weight), he calls you pretty <3

✧ a/n :: if i'm being honest, i'm posting this just bc. not too sure how to feel about it but hey !!

"you almost done?" katsuki's question is let out softly, as though he would disturb your work in progress if he spoke louder. besides the odd flutter here and there, he managed to keep his eyelids shut completely, long enough for you to have finished that part of the look.

all it took was a warm and lazy saturday to come up with the idea of testing your eyeliner skills with different looks on your boyfriend. katsuki agreed, on the condition that you were seated on his lap— and that you wouldn't doodle anything else on his face in liquid liner.

not like you were planning to, anyway.

"somewhat. you can open your eyes now, kats."

a set of pretty red eyes find themselves looking up at you the moment you give your permission. katsuki watches the warm afternoon light come into his bedroom and touch the curves of your smile and eyes just right, and he can't help the way his lips pull into a soft grin at the sight.

"hi, handsome," you breathe, your heart kicking up with giddiness over how focused he was on the sight of you. you're half-tempted to avert your gaze and lose the eye contact you're holding; it's unfair how he still makes you feel like you did before you started dating, excited over every small interaction.

bakugou's hands are snug against your thighs as his thumbs brush gently against them— you belong right here, so close to him with no intentions of parting anytime soon. his minor movements mimic the strokes of black against his skin, framing those beautiful irises.

"you look good like this." he murmurs, voice low as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. "so pretty. should be doing this every damn day."

"kats," you chuckle. "as hot as that grin is, i can't work because the skin around your eyes is creasing."

without another thought, katsuki slides his hands to the underside of your thighs and manages to lift you slightly to pull you even closer to him, somewhat higher onto his lap. a small gasp leaves your mouth before it is replaced with an equally small laugh.

"there, you can see closer. does that solve your problem?" it doesn't and he knows this; that explains the cheeky grin taking over his beautiful features. there's a faint glow against bakugou's skin, the healthy glow that settles into him when it's just you two and he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

even his eyes are gleaming at you.

"dork." you tease, cupping the side of his face with your free hand. katsuki feels the warm admiration gracing his cheek where you caress it, and he hopes you can feel the same admiration he's painting onto your thighs with the pads of his thumbs.

who knew such rough hands could be so gentle?

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

taglist (complete this form if you'd like to join !) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuuls-archive @https-spacekay @k0z3me @frannky @sweeteaas @niktwazny303 @justbepeace @bookcluberror @ur-local-simp @awkwardaardvarkforever @dreamcastgirl99 @kinkykeira123 @kissagii @lotionlamp @onlybkgs @kirishima-eijirock

[syluslnd]

Hello, I love your headcanons! May I ask for a S/O who secretly doesn't feel attractive??. Until one day they say "I'm so lucky to have you, even tho I'm not pretty" as if they are used to it. Thanks!

Sylus reaction to his S/O who is insecure

You're sitting across from Sylus, having a casual conversation, sipping on tea while he casually scrolls through something on his tablet. It's a peaceful moment, his presence grounding as always but your mind drifts for a second. Absentmindedly, you say “I'm so lucky to have you... even though I'm not pretty."

The words slip out so casually but they hit Sylus like a ton of bricks. His head snaps up and for a moment, there's disbelief in his dark eyes, as though he can't believe what he just heard. His gaze sharpens and without saying a word, he sets his tablet aside.

"Kitten" he says, his voice low and commanding “what did you just say?"

You blink, a little startled by the intensity in his tone. "What? I'm just saying... I'm lucky, you could have someone way more beautiful!"

Before you can react, Sylus stands and pulls you onto him with a firm but gentle grip.You're pressed against his chest and his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering.

"Sweetie, I don't ever want to hear you say that again”he says, his voice a mix of frustration and something softer, more protective. His hands cup your face, tilting it toward his and he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips. "You have the prettiest face" he murmurs between kisses, his voice dropping to a husky whisper "and it's all mine."

You can't help but flush under his attention but before you can protest, Sylus grabs your wrist gently, lifting your hand to his lips.

"These hands" he says, kissing your palm "are the prettiest l've ever seen. I love every little part of them." His lips travel down to each finger, teasingly slow, making sure you feel every kiss.

"Sylus, I-" you start to protest, but he silences you with a mischievous grin, his teasing only intensifying.

"Oh, l'm not done" he says, his voice playful yet firm. He runs his hands along your sides, letting them rest on your waist for a moment before pulling you closer. "This waist?Prettiest waist l've ever touched” he purrs, his hands traveling lower until they settle on your hips.

He grips you firmly, not letting you squirm away as his lips press against the curve of your stomach. "And don't even get me started on this tummy, kitten. Prettiest thing I've ever laid my hands on."

You're starting to blush harder now, squirming under his relentless teasing but Sylus's hands slip down to your thighs, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"And these thighs?" he says, his voice dipping lower, full of amusement and affection. "Sweetie, I could write poetry about how pretty they are."

"Sylus..." you mumble, flustered and trying to hide your face but he's not having it. He tilts your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your lips.

"Say it" he commands softly, though there's a teasing edge in his tone. "Say you're pretty."

You try to resist, biting your lip but Sylus leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I'll keep going, kitten. Every inch of you is beautiful and I'll remind you of that until you say it yourself."

Your heart races as he kisses your collarbone, his hands still tracing your body as though each part of you deserves a special touch. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, you manage to whisper,

"I'm pretty."

Sylus smirks, satisfied but not done yet.

"Louder."

You blush deeper, but the way he's looking at you-like you're the most precious thing he's ever seen-gives you courage. "I'm pretty."

He chuckles softly, his hand cupping your cheek once more. "Damn right you are and don't you ever forget it."

[alastorss]

brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—

why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?

a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"What did you say?"

"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.

"That thing you just said. Repeat it."

You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."

"No, dear, before that."

The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.

"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"

He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.

Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?

"My apologies but... where did that come from?"

"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.

No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.

"Of course, cher."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.

It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.

He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.

"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"

He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.

"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.

You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."

He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.

Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"

Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"

"Why did you not call me Allie?"

Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.

Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.

"What?" He grumbles.

"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"

His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."

"So you like it?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Liar, you do!"

Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"

You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."

Yet the way his smile softens says it all.

~

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