#try to like what you like without being embarrassed to the point of being physically ill challenge FAILED

[velvetures]

Honorifics

A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.

When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.

Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.

The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.

The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.

Ghost however… didn’t like it.

Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.

He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.

The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.

He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.

Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.

With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.

It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.

The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.

Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.

A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.

Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.

“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.

It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.

“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”

Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.

“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.

Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.

When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.

“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.

You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.

“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.

“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.

His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.

He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.

The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.

“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.

“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”

Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.

You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.

But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.

Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.

“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.

“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.

“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.

“Yes, sir.”

His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.

“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.

“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.

“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.

“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.

“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.

“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.

“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”

Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.

Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.

“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”

You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.

“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”

You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”

His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”

“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”

Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 23: stormy night

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

You were sitting comfortably on your sofa, watching who knows what on TV while listening to the shower blending with the storm raging outside.

Unfortunately for your boyfriend, the weather event had caused a power outage in his building, so he called you to see if he could spend the night with you. He needed to shower, iron his clothes in the morning, charge his phone, and review some work files, making it impossible to do those tasks in the dark.

They say that the misfortune of some is the fortune of others, for although your boyfriend had to step out of his comfort zone, you were extremely grateful that he was there. You hated storms; they always made you very nervous, and you usually couldn’t sleep when one was raging outside. That’s why you were happy.

Maybe it was a somewhat archaic idea; however, having your man at home made you feel extremely safe and protected.

You were covered with a gray diamond-patterned blanket, waiting for the hot chocolate in your kettle to finish boiling when you heard the sound of water in the bathroom stop. You knew that Spencer was probably too tired to want anything more than a quiet night, so when you headed toward the bathroom, you did so with no other intention.

You knocked twice, just as a matter of courtesy, and he opened the door. He was wearing a red robe with a black trim, and in his hands rested a brown towel that he was likely about to use to dry his hair.

As soon as he saw you, he asked if something was wrong, given your anxious expression. You still hadn’t dared to tell him about your fear of storms, so he couldn’t know.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to see you,” you replied, moving closer to him to try to hug him.

“You’re going to get soaked,” he murmured. Still, he didn’t reject the contact.

“You’re so warm; how is that possible if you just showered?”

“The water. While cold temperatures have some extra health benefits, I always shower with hot water because it helps reduce tension in the muscles and relaxes me. It’s like… a moment to disconnect from everything.”

“I hope I’m not ruining it,” you murmured, looking up to meet his eyes.

The height difference between you was something that had always driven you crazy, especially the way he looked at you—with so much love.

“Not at all. You’re actually improving it.” You were about to say something else when a thunderclap resonated in the distance, making you jump into your boyfriend’s arms “Are you scared?”

“A little,” you replied tersely. You didn’t want to look silly in front of him, plus it was a rather childish fear. “The storms, the thunder, and all that… they startle me. That’s all.”

“Did you know it's called astraphobia? The irrational fear of thunder, lightning, and storms in general,” he began to ramble. “It’s a fairly common phobia that can cause intense anxiety or even panic when people experience a storm, particularly electrical ones.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“But you shouldn’t be afraid; storms are part of the natural cycle of the Earth and help balance the atmosphere, providing water for plants and refreshing the air. Although lightning may seem dangerous, it’s very rare for it to strike a person since it generally falls on high points like trees or buildings. As for the sound of thunder, while loud, it can’t cause physical harm, as it’s just rapidly expanding air. Being at home is one of the safest places to be, as buildings are designed to withstand storms and safely discharge lightning energy…”

“Honey,” you interrupted him. Your hands went up to his neck. “You don’t have to fix it with science. Sometimes, I just want to hear that everything will be okay.”

The man felt embarrassed for rambling on about it, but to make up for it, he leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

“Everything is fine, baby. I’ll be with you.”

Another thunderclap resonated, and even though you felt uncomfortable, being with him made it more bearable.

“What would I do without my handsome, strong, and protective man?”

“Are you talking about me? Or are you cheating on me with someone else?”

You rolled your eyes at his joke and tried to walk away, but he pulled you back to ask for a kiss. You didn’t resist, of course.

“I made hot chocolate. Do you want a cup?”

“Uh-huh. Let me get dressed, and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

You went to the kitchen to meticulously prepare a couple of cups with the drink and made sure to include marshmallows, as he liked. Additionally, you added pumpkin spice that you had specifically bought for his visits, knowing it was one of his favorite flavors of autumn.

When Spencer came out, dressed in pajamas that looked too comfortable and warm, you felt happy watching him. You had already placed his cup on the desk where he would be setting up, where several files and notebooks were already resting.

He thanked you with a kiss on the forehead and took a seat, not daring to lie on the couch next to you because he knew he wouldn’t get up again after that.

“Do you need help with anything?” you offered, even if you knew it was probably work too complex for you to do.

“No, it’s not necessary. But if you want, you can stay and keep me company while I work. I’d feel much better,” he replied.

You hummed in agreement and settled back into the armchair, beginning to sip from your cup while keeping the TV off, knowing that Spencer was bothered by noise when he was working. You felt a bit like an intruder in his workspace, but the idea of having him close calmed you.

As Spencer reviewed the printed files, you decided to watch him. His expression was one of concentration, with his brow slightly furrowed and his jaw clenched. It was evident that he was absorbed in his world of research, perhaps analyzing a recent case or reviewing the reports he had received.

You remained silent for quite some time until your curiosity grew, and you dared to ask:

“Is it a lot of work?”

“Kind of. I need to check a couple of details before sending a summary to the office,” he replied without taking his eyes off the paper. The familiarity in his voice gave you a sense of connection, even though you weren’t directly interacting.

“Difficult case?”

“A bit. There are many variables involved. I’m trying to break down the information to make it easier to understand. Sometimes work can be a puzzle,” he said, and although he seemed immersed in his task, there was a tone of passion in his voice that made you admire him even more.

That said, you decided not to interrupt him while he continued working. In his world, he could be a bit more reserved, and while you wanted to know more, you also understood that he needed his space.

As time passed, the rain continued to hit the windows, creating an enveloping atmosphere. Spencer seemed completely absorbed in his task, and at some point, he looked up at you and smiled, albeit briefly, before returning to his concentration. It was a simple gesture, but it made you feel included in his world, even though he was focused on something else.

“You know? I’m glad I came here,” Spencer suddenly said, breaking the calm. “I mean, not just because of the electricity, but sometimes work can be exhausting, and… I know, I feel overwhelmed, like I have a million things on my mind. But when I’m with you, I feel like I can set all that aside. It’s like your presence gives me a breather.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for that sincerity that had always captivated you. It was a vulnerable moment, and you felt grateful for his trust. Without saying anything, you got up and went to him to sit on his lap, letting him wrap his arm around your waist.

You both remained silent for a moment, feeling the weight of the night and each other’s closeness. But it was also evident that the day had been long for him. You noticed the tension in his body manifesting in his posture (despite having showered), as his shoulders were slumped, and his gaze, though still bright, showed signs of fatigue.

“You're not done yet?” you asked softly, running your hands through his still slightly damp hair. You had bought him a conditioner that smelled delightful and gave a silky feel.

“I did. I just need to sign off on the file to submit it at the office tomorrow.”

The vulnerability in his voice resonated with you.

“Do you want us to go to bed then?” you suggested, even though you felt there was more you could share.

Your boyfriend nodded with his eyes closed, a clear sign of exhaustion, and you promised him you’d be with him as soon as you finished tidying up in the kitchen. Spencer organized the desk, and once everything was ready, both of you headed to the bedroom. It was a cozy space, with the lights off, and the sound of the storm could be heard through the window. You got into bed, and he quickly joined you.

When he wrapped his arms around you from behind, the warmth of his body enveloped you and you felt all the tension you had built up during the storm melt away. You nestled against him, enjoying the sensation of his closeness.

“I like being here with you,” he murmured as he wrapped his arm around you. Spencer took a moment to breathe deeply, as if he were grateful for the small moment you had “I always have trouble falling asleep, but with you in my arms, it’s not so difficult"

The sincerity of your boyfriend moved you, and you felt him place a soft kiss on your shoulder, to which you responded by leaning closer to him.

You both stayed silent for a while, listening to the sound of the rain beginning to diminish. The tranquility of the night was like a blanket wrapping around you.

Finally, as the heaviness of sleep started to assail you, you felt the weight of the day fade away.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” you said in a whisper, feeling the peace his presence brought you. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” he replied.

And as his eyes closed, you realized that despite the storms raging outside, there was a place where you both felt safe and comfortable.

[hanbinics]

✧.* BINNIE'S BOO FEST | DAY 05.

HALLOWEEN '24 [based off these prompts.]

!fratboy chris x !crybaby reader

“kid, you’re not having all those fuckin’ plushies up here—pick one,” chris snorts as he rounds the couch you’re currently sitting on, your eyebrows drawing together as you frown up at him.

he sits next to you, lifting the blanket you’re currently under so he can join, a bowl of buttery popcorn resting on his lap as he kicks his feet up onto the coffee table in front of you. you’re still glaring at him, but he pays you no mind as he presses play on the movie, fingers absently wandering into the snack on his thighs.

“there’s not that many,” you huff back to him, glancing down at the four little plushies you’d brought from your room to join you for the movie, fingers brushing over the teddy bear currently on your lap before you’re tilting your head towards him instead. “besides, how do you expect me to watch any of this without something to hold onto?” you ask him, gesturing towards the tv with expectant eyes.

chris glances from the tv to you, then to the stuffed animal clutched against your chest, mouth shifting into a small smirk. “jus’ need somethin’ to hold onto?” he echoes, and your cheeks warm at the suggestive tone to his question.

you sink further into the couch, shooting him a pointed look, but he just chuckles. “’s not scary kid—promise,” he insists, but the look on your face lets him know you don’t believe him one bit. it would be just like him to pick something out to scare you on purpose.

as you sit cozied up underneath the blanket, however, the only light in the room being from the display of the tv, you realize the little noises coming from beside you every now and then. you think you’re hearing things at first, that your mind is playing tricks on you because of the movie, but at one point, when you glance over at chris during an intense scene of the movie, you realize the horror written all over his face. his eyes are wide as he watches the killer take another victim right in front of you, his lips parted and mouth hanging open just enough that you can hear the sharp gasp he sucks in just before he’s ducking his head slightly, shoulders pressed up to his ears as if trying to physically protect himself from something going on in the movie.

it's at that moment that the brunette turns to catch your stare, his own gaze hardening as he realizes what you’ve just witnessed. “the fuck are you watchin’ me for?” he demands, throwing one hand towards the tv. “does it look like i’m the one in the fuckin’ movie? nah—pay attention,” he huffs. you swear the tips of his ears are pink, but you do as you’re told, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress a giggle threatening to bubble up from your throat.

chris is still a little jumpy throughout the rest of the movie, but after you catching him, he does better at keeping it under control. he still seems like he’s brooding a little bit as the two of you get up from the couch, and you wonder if maybe he feels less like a man because he’d gotten scared over the movie. you find it to be cute, but you know he’s not going to appreciate that in the moment.

instead, you catch his attention by resting your hands on his chest, pressing up on the tips of your toes so that you can press a kiss to his mouth—only, he immediately draws away from you, confusion flashing across his face.

“what’re you doin?” he questions you, like it’s the most absurd thing in the world for you to kiss him goodbye. you frown, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. you know the two of you don’t exactly have a standard relationship, but he’s seemed to grow a little fonder of your acts of affection here and there.

“i was just telling you goodbye..” you mumble your response, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, so you find yourself looking down at the floor instead—that is, until two long fingers press underneath your chin to bring your face back up to his where chris presses a short, warm kiss to your mouth.

when he pulls away, he breathes out a short, humorless laugh. “don’t fuck with me, kid. i’m sleeping with you tonight.”

©hanbinics

: ̗̀➛ tag list: @blahbel668, @zay-sturns

: ̗̀➛ divider by @/successfulicons

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Meaningful Kiss 3

SUMMARY: Would they make Public Displays of Affection? If not, are they protective instead? And how do they show you how much they truly love you through their kisses?

CHARACTERS: Ruggie, Jade, Kalim, Silver, Lilia

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Established Relationship, Kissing, Flirting, Slightly Suggestive (?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character.

COMMENTS: I started writing this for the Overblot Students and because it did so well I made a second one for the Freshmen. Then, as I like to try to include all the characters, I decided to write for the ones that were missing. These were the characters with the most votes to be in the 3rd part. The rest were left for the 4th part.

I hope you enjoy ���💋

Meaningful Kiss 4 (Cater, Trey, Floyd, Rook)

CONTEXT: This can be seen as if you were at the beginning of the relationship, or already in an established relationship.

PDA for Ruggie is the most casual thing in the world. Whenever you are together he will have one arm either around your shoulders or around your waist. It's like a magnet, you get closer to him and his arm automatically wraps around you. Unless you didn't want to or the situation is more serious, of course. He's the type to hug you from behind and rest his chin on your head in a way that doesn't hurt you.

From the outside and at first glance, he makes it appear as if he is simply very touchy-feely. But the unconscious truth is that he is overprotective and territorial. No one can touch what's his! He's like that with food, with his belongings and with his significant other. It's an instinct thing. This doesn't mean he's controlling, if you're fine and happy, he's fine and happy. It’s just to make sure no jerk gets too close to you.

He might get a little jealous from time to time if you're very close to Ace and Deuce, for example, but never to the point of threatening them to stay away from you. He would never date someone he doesn't trust 100%.

Most likely he will help you with your household chores and ask for your help with his. Not because he needs help, but because he wants your company. Doing these kinds of things with you puts him at ease and makes him feel loved. It also makes him imagine what your life would be like together in a little house, but that's a conversation for another time.

When you're alone, he's still very into hugging you and being close to you, but in a more relaxed and lazy way. He likes to mess with you. You'll probably have a few tickle battles here and there.

In public, his kisses on your cheeks range from soft to playfully passionate. On the lips they always remain soft and casual.

Of course, the most meaningful kisses will be those in private, where his instinct doesn't encourage you to be protective. When you're relaxing together, he won't let go of you. He's the big spoon type. He will gently kiss your cheeks, ears and neck. And on the lips, they'll start out soft too, but if you let him get into the mood, they can become as possessive as the instinct he's trying to control.

Jade is not exactly the PDA type. A nice way of saying that it embarrasses him. He doesn't like to attract much attention and likes to maintain a low profile. So he won't initiate PDA and will appreciate it if you don't either. However, what he doesn't do physically, he makes up for verbally.

He may not be the type to hug you in public, but he is definitely the type to say something in public just to see you blushing and flattered in front of others. However, he does this discreetly. So that people usually only see your reaction without understanding very well what led you to that. He loves messing with you to see how your reactions can surprise him.

He will say things in your ear as if it were something casual. Or saying things out loud, but using words and phrases with double meanings, as a way of camouflaging what he really means or misleading the person, but affecting you in the process. Like a comment that to others seems innocent, but you know from something that happened between the two of you that he was referring to something else.

Even though he's not a fan of PDA, he sees no harm in kissing you hello and goodbye. A delicate and courteous kiss.

In private, he already appreciates the simple fact that you are keeping him company while he does some solo activity like taking care of his terrariums. However, despite the appearance he wants to give as a relatively peaceful person, inside, he is as much a lover of chaos as his twin brother. But in his case, he is the arsonist, not the fire.

In the same way that he likes to provoke you in public, he can be a thousand times worse in private, not holding back with his words and being more sincere since there are no "witnesses". In public he's just a little playful, but in private, what he loves most is discovering how far he can go, how far you can hold back. He loves to push your limits. Not in a bad way, of course.

And it's at these times, when he manages to pull that string that incites you to fight back in kind, that eventually, after a little more mutual incitement, he will return the kiss you initiate with his most meaningful one. That dangerously mischievous and provocative feeling. He loves to play with you.

But of course Kalim is an innocent PDA fan! What does Jamil mean by holding back and being discreet? He loves you! Why would love be something you should hide? He shows how much he likes and cares about someone, whether they are friends or family, to everyone. The same would be no different with you. In fact, you are the one who deserves the most for him to show you his love.

He will hug you and stay close to you ANY chance he gets. Whenever he sees you, he will stop whatever he is doing to run up to you and hug you. Whenever you see him and say hello, you'll see his smile widen and... him running up to you to hug you. He's more of a hugger than a kisser, at least in public. He will shower you with gifts, expensive, cheap, extravagant, simple, small, big, whatever you love. Unintentionally, causing envy in those around you.

He is 0% jealous, probably because he is also naive. This can also cause him to not be very protective, as he never sees the bad in others. In these cases, Jamil is the one who protects you if necessary, in the same way he does with Kalim. And, most likely, you are the one who will have to protect Kalim instead.

He's a people person, so it's rare that you're alone together. He likes parties and being with as many people as possible. The difference with you is that he never leaves you and if he wants to go talk to someone he will take you with him.

This also means that his most meaningful kisses, unlike most, are not necessarily the ones he gives you in private. He may be a person who likes to hug others in general when he is happy. But the kisses he gives you on your lips when he's excited, especially if he's in a celebratory mood, are the most passionate and loving you can receive from him.

Silver is pretty neutral to PDA. He doesn't initiate it, but he also has no problem reciprocating if you initiate it. The thing is, he's a very clueless person, so unless you clearly express in words that you want a hug, or a kiss, or just hold hands, he won't know.

On the other hand, if you decide with him, for example, that whenever you meet for the first time in the day he has to give you a kiss, he will give you that sweet smile of his and accept your request. He will follow this order to the letter and never miss a day or think twice about doing it.

He is not jealous, but he is quite protective. Since his actions do not reveal your relationship, people who don't know you at that level end up not even suspecting that you're together. His naivety and poker face only consolidate this.

And then two things can happen: in the best case scenario, he ends up casually revealing that you are dating, for example, if someone talks about a certain place, he comments "Yes, we went there on our last date." In the worst case scenario, someone tries to "woo" you and he suddenly takes over as your guard, surprising and probably even scaring the other person with his defensive posture, either placing himself between you and the other person, or stretching an arm in front of you, with his back to you. But the scariest thing will be discovering that that poker face can also transform into a threatening look.

As he doesn't express himself much, his kisses also end up being rare. Which makes them not only more special, but also makes him not having a more meaningful kiss, because the simple fact that he kisses you already is the most meaningful thing he will ever do.

All his kisses are soft, sweet and delicate, both the ones he occasionally gives you on your cheek and the ones he gives you on your lips. That kind of kiss that makes you feel like you're the most precious thing in the world and that makes you forget everything that's around you. Like those true love kisses in fairy tales when the prince wakes up the princess.

Lilia is 100% into PDA! He likes to surprise others and he always manages to do so when he is with you. Not only can he surprise others with spontaneous PDA, he can make you blush in seconds. It's like killing two birds with one stone, metaphorically of course.

He's the type to come up behind you and hug you, putting his arms around your shoulders. And if you're taller than him, no problem, he floats. He's also the type who would take advantage of these moments to say something in your ear that would make you blush.

There's a good chance he'll also play the following game with you: appearing upside down, giving you a kiss on the cheek and disappearing when you look. And repeat this 3 or 4 times until he finally reveals himself in front of you and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. (spider-man style)

He is protective in his own way. If he can, he will train you like he trained Silver and Sebek. If not, he will teach you what he can and what you can handle, so that you can defend yourself. He doesn't give the fish, he teaches the person how to fish. If there is a type of person he likes and admires, it is a strong and independent one.

However, he is aware that no matter how much he trains you, you will always be at a disadvantage to someone who uses magic. And if you are a female, you will be most of the time, if not always at a disadvantage to a male. In these cases, he doesn't mind "fishing himself”, he even enjoys doing it. He will protect you the same way he would protect the Draconia family, Silver, and any other loved one.

In public he is just playful, and his displays of affection too. He likes others to see him as cute because he knows how it gives him an advantage. Not only is it a form of pretty privilege, it's also a way for enemies to look down on him and thus let their guard down.

In private however, he cannot deceive you. You know that that cute side is a true side of him, but you also know that it's not the only side of him and that he's not as "innocent" and "harmless" as he likes to make it seem.

And his most meaningful kisses demonstrate this. They happen when he has that mischievous look in his eyes. When he takes off his “sheep’s clothes” and shows his real “wolf snout”. When he confidently approaches you with a naughty smile, and you're reminded how vivid the red in his eyes is. His kiss is elegant but dominant, almost like... a vampire perhaps?

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[cheesiedomino]

RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?

genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“I have a date tomorrow guys.”

Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.

You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.

“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.

Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”

Well, you suppose you could put it that way.

You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.

“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”

Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.

But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.

“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.

Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.

See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.

You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.

What’s the worse that could happen?

( 1 day earlier )

Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.

‘The rules are simple:

You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.

MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.

NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.

Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’

Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.

After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.

SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝

5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!

Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)

Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.

$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.

You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.

Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.

Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.

“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.

“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.

“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.

“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.

Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”

“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.

He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.

The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.

The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.

For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.

Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.

“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.

Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.

He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.

“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.

Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”

“How many clients do you usually get?”

This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.

“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.

You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.

Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.

He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.

‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’

You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.

‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.

His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.

“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”

“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”

He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.

As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.

While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.

“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.

You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.

“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.

He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”

You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”

The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.

“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.

You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.

You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.

“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.

There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?

Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.

The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.

“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.

Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.

“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.

He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.

“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.

“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”

“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.

“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”

You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.

“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.

He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”

Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.

He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.

After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.

[End <3].

[cobragardens]

Notes on the Scene in Job's Basement

Crowley is not tempting Aziraphale here. He's experimenting on him.

Getting Aziraphale to sin, or even getting him drunk, is not Crowley's intent in this scene. Eating food, taking pleasure in food, drinking alcohol, and even being drunk are not sins in most of Judaism or Christianity (and they're certainly not sins in British Christianity, regardless of any church's doctrine). When Aziraphale turns down alcohol, Crowley just suggests he try food instead; so it's not important to Crowley what Aziraphale tries, but it is important to him that he try something.

This scene is also the first time (chronologically) we see that Crowley likes to drink and likes to be drunk.

We know from

and from

as well as from Book Omens and Word of God that angels have no instinct beyond curiosity pulling them toward eating or toward gender. From this we can reasonably presume they have no instinct toward Beverages either.

That means that in this moment--

--Crowley is very likely the only metaphysical entity he knows on either side of the divide, or even knows of, who has ever experienced a physical pleasure.

And he probably has some Lingering Questions about it, like we all did the first time a physical pleasure blew our minds. Like,

Is it this strong for everyone?

Is there something wrong with me?

Am I going to hurt myself if I do this, like, a lot?

And it's not like the poor creature can ask anyone, because the answers for humans aren't necessarily going to apply to him.

So when he sees an opportunity, Crowley gets that one angel he knows who'll talk to him to try a human thing, and then he watches to see if physical pleasure hits the angel as hard as it hit him.

And that's why he looks so creepily pleased when it does.

Apparently it is this strong for everyone and there isn't anything wrong with him. Now he can relax and get sloshed without worrying, and he even has someone to talk to about how rad human stuff is.

A Dip Into Speculation

We know because we're shown this isn't the first time Crowley has gotten drunk that, watching Aziraphale, Crowley understands what he's seeing. I think it's really interesting that Crowley doesn't laugh at Aziraphale at any point during this scene, and he doesn't correct the way he's eating, either.

Maybe it's because this is what it was like for Crowley the first time. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and woke up in a puddle of his own sick. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and didn't wake up at all, and there was Paperwork and he had to get used to a whole new corporation just when he'd got the hang of having legs in the old one. Maybe somebody had to show him how to use a fork or whatever they had going on for eating utensils in Ancient Mesopotamia. I distinctly remember having to learn as a small child to chew with my mouth closed. There is every possibility Crowley doesn't consider the way Aziraphale is eating to be worthy of ridicule because whatever Crowley did the first time was worse.

Maybe he wants to leave Aziraphale set up for later embarrassment over his table manners. Aziraphale was a judgy bitch about the wine.

Or maybe it's something like Let him have this one. There can be rules to it later; let him just enjoy it, once, like a little kid with both fists in their birthday cake.

Maybe it's desire. There is some textual evidence for this. Once Aziraphale learns to eat properly, the way he does it is very attractive, and we know Crowley loves watching him do it.

I don't think it's overreaching even to interpret David Tennant's physical performance of Crowley watching Aziraphale eat as one of sensual or erotic pleasure. I mean--

I'm not saying it absolutely has to be erotic, but it's not a reach, or even a full extension of the elbow, to read it that way.

There's another meta somewhere [I'll link it when I find it again; if you know this meta, please drop it in comments!] that discusses how this exchange in Job's basement is filmed like an erotic scene.

Like Crowley, we all want to kiss this face.

Aziraphale isn't eating prettily, but he's eating lewdly, ravenously, desirously, and it's lit like romantic sex, not like gluttony. Whether that's funny or poignant or hot may depend on the viewer. Here's how Crowley's handling it:

Srs tho, any frame of this scene could have been painted by Artemisia Gentileschi.

Or maybe--and this is my favorite of the available interpretations--maybe this is what it was like for Crowley the first time and he doesn't interfere because he wants Aziraphale to come out of this as someone who's had the same experience Crowley's had so Crowley won't be so totally alone in having had it.

[deluluonmyback]

impulsivity in bpd can be cutting and dyeing your hair, but it’s also frying and destroying your hair to a point where it’s completely ruined and you’re self conscious of it everyday.

impulsivity in bpd can be having an attitude and saying some petty things to people, but it’s also ruining every good friendship and relationship you’ve ever had and you can’t stop yourself from sabotaging everything, so you end up alone in a deep pit.

impulsivity in bpd can be having some drinks, doing dr*gs, or having a lot of meaningless sex. but it’s also relying on drinking and dr*gs so much that you’re completely off your face all time and it ruins your image and every aspect of your life. and it’s also no one wanting a relationship with you because you “sleep around” or “probably have an std”.

impulsivity in bpd can be browsing an fps facebook. but it’s also stalking their every move online and their every step in the real world constantly because you need them so bad. you can’t live without knowing if they’re okay, knowing what they’re doing, knowing if they’re leaving you for someone else, etc.

the list goes on. us borderlines post a lot of shit about bpd, and in my personal case, laughing it off and sharing it to others makes me feel a bit better and i know that it makes others feel less alone knowing that other people are doing the same horrendous shit. but stop romanticising being obsessive, quirky, impulsive, and having an attitude. it’s fucking painful. the emotional aspect is PHYSICALLY painful. watching the world crumble around us because most of us can’t fucking stop ourselves is painful. the withdrawals from substances, s/h, etc because we are so prone to addiction is PAINFUL. i’m all for supporting our fellow borderlines and cluster b peoples, but STOP self diagnosing to be “trendy”. i’m not on about self diagnosing, etc if you’re certain and it means you’re getting the support that you absolutely need. everyone is deserving of help, whether healthcare wants to agree or not, EVERYONE deserves the help they need. but stop trying to make bpd sound fun. being euphoric is fun, the rest of it IS NOT. ITS FUCKING PAINFUL. thank u bye 💕

(ps. i hate making rant posts about this, but seeing people act like bpd is a “fun choice” in life pisses me the fuck off, every day is just pure fucking suffering. the people romanticising and hyping this shit up are the same people who will talk shit about any cluster b who is showing symptoms or having one hell of an episode. but this NEEDS to be out there x)

(edit: the amount of support i’ve had on this is unreal 😭❤️ i tried to word this the best i can but when i have a lot to say it often comes out making no fucking sense at all or something comes off the wrong way. i saw someone reply about the yanderes shit. I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. i don’t know why the fuck people fetishise it, it makes me feel disgusting to have an fp even if i’m keeping as far away from them as possible. and also the “euphoric is fun”, i still do a lot of embarrassing and over the top shit when i’m euphoric that i regret. but in the moment, the happiness i feel i just embrace now because it’s not been often that i ever get to feel like that. thank you so much for the likes and reblogs, i really hope this post has helped y’all. I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️)

[wendsky]

I just wanted to start off with saying how much I love your writing !! you do such a great job with showing what's happening and I'm never confused on what's happening or who's talking (I have the second issue often lol) anyways if you do requests I do have one !! Y/N transfers to Nevermore because of bullies and at some point comes in some sort of physical contact with Wednesday where she gets a vision of you being bullied. Wednesday becomes kinda protective over you the way she is with Eugene and Pugsley, but Y/N's relationship with Wednesday developes into something more. sorry for such a long message and again loving what you're doing !!

thank you for your kind words and of course!

protected

wednesday addams x !witch!fem!reader

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The swirling shadows of Nevermore Academy were a far cry from your previous school, where you had endured the relentless torment of bullies. You had hoped that the new environment would be a sanctuary, a place where you could finally breathe and be yourself. But the anxiety that gripped your chest told you that change didn’t come without its challenges.

As you walked through the stone archways of the academy, you took in the gothic architecture that surrounded you—towering spires, iron chandeliers, and dark wood accents. The students that roamed the halls were unlike any you’d encountered before, with their eclectic styles and unapologetic personalities. For the first time, you felt a flicker of hope. But that flicker quickly dimmed when you heard the whispers.

“Look at her,” one girl sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “Another weirdo trying to fit in.”

You kept your head down, trying to ignore the cruel laughter that followed you as you made your way to your first class. You had thought you left the bullying behind, but the stares and whispered comments followed you like a shadow.

The first week passed in a blur of classes and isolation. You kept to yourself, determined not to give anyone a reason to target you further. That resolve was put to the test during lunch one day. As you sat at a table in the corner of the cafeteria, trying to enjoy your meal in peace, you felt a sharp shove from behind.

“Oops! Didn’t see you there, loser!” a girl with vibrant purple hair sneered as she walked past, causing you to spill your drink all over yourself. The laughter from her group echoed in your ears as they made their way to the main table, where the more popular students gathered.

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks, and you tried to clean yourself up with a napkin, your hands trembling. You hated feeling weak, hated that they still had power over you. Just as you thought you’d disappear into the floor, a shadow fell over you.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did you spill your drink? Or are you just that clumsy?” The voice was low and smooth, tinged with an unsettling calmness that sent a chill down your spine. You looked up to see Wednesday Addams standing there, her expression unreadable.

You blinked, startled by her sudden presence. “I—um, it was an accident,” you managed to stammer, avoiding her piercing gaze.

“Accidents happen, but that wasn’t an accident. It was intentional,” she said, her dark eyes narrowing. You couldn’t tell if she was angry or simply observing.

“I can handle it,” you replied, the instinct to defend yourself kicking in despite your embarrassment.

“Clearly,” she said dryly, and you could almost hear the sarcasm in her tone. “Are you always this brave, or is it just for show?”

“Whatever,” you muttered, your face hot. You hated that she saw you like this—weak and embarrassed.

“Don’t bother. They’re not worth your time,” she replied, her voice steady. She touched your shoulder and for a moment, went still. As if nothing happened, with a swift motion, she turned to leave, her raven-black hair swaying behind her as she walked away.

The next incident came unexpectedly. You were in the library, trying to focus on your studies when you overheard the same group of girls from lunch laughing and whispering nearby. You tried to block them out, but their words cut through the air like daggers.

“Have you seen her? She thinks she’s so special just because she’s here,” one girl said.

“Yeah, as if we need more freaks around here,” another chimed in.

You clenched your fists, your heart racing as you felt the familiar wave of panic wash over you. Why did they have to make everything so difficult? Just as you were about to storm out of the library, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turned to see Wednesday standing beside you, her expression uncharacteristically serious. “Stay,” she commanded softly, her voice laced with an urgency that surprised you.

“What?” you asked, bewildered.

“Stay. I want to see how they handle this,” she said, glancing toward the group with a predatory gaze. You hesitated but nodded, curiosity getting the better of you.

As you watched, Wednesday approached the girls, her presence commanding their attention. “Why don’t you say that to her face?” she asked, her tone calm yet filled with an underlying menace.

The girls froze, the laughter dying on their lips. They exchanged nervous glances, the bravado fading as they met Wednesday’s unwavering gaze.

“Uh, we were just joking,” one girl stammered, shifting uncomfortably.

“Jokes aren’t meant to hurt,” Wednesday replied, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “If you have something to say, be brave enough to say it to her.”

You felt your heart race as the girls shifted uneasily, their earlier confidence shattered under Wednesday’s intense scrutiny. They muttered something unintelligible before quickly gathering their things and leaving the library.

You turned to Wednesday, astonished. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Actually, I did,” she replied, her expression softening slightly. “You shouldn’t have to tolerate their cruelty.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the days passed, you noticed a shift in Wednesday’s behavior toward you. It was subtle but undeniable. She began to appear at random moments—sitting nearby in classes, leaning against the wall while you walked to lunch, or simply observing from a distance. At first, you found it unnerving. Why was she watching you? Did she pity you, or was she just curious?

But as the bullying incidents continued, you found solace in her presence. Wednesday’s protective nature began to emerge, mirroring the way she defended her friends, like Eugene and Pugsley. It made you feel… safe. You still faced harassment, but it was less frequent, and you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could find a place at Nevermore.

The third incident happened in the hallway. You were on your way to class when you overheard a group of students mocking you again. “Look at her, always alone. What a loser,” one of them laughed.

You took a deep breath, preparing to ignore them, but suddenly, a figure stepped in front of you. It was Wednesday, her dark dress billowing slightly as she stood her ground, her eyes cold and unforgiving.

“Is there a problem here?” she asked, her voice low, but the intensity in her gaze was unmistakable.

The students faltered, caught off guard by her sudden appearance. “We were just—” one of them started, but Wednesday interrupted.

“Just what? Making fun of someone who’s already struggling? How brave of you,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

With that, she turned to you, her eyes softening for the first time. “Ignore them. They’re insignificant.”

You blinked, your heart pounding in your chest as you took in her fierce protection. It was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time, and it made your heart swell.

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, and for a moment, you thought you saw the corner of Wednesday’s mouth twitch in a ghost of a smile.

The more time you spent together, the more your feelings began to shift. There was something intoxicating about Wednesday—the way she moved, the way she spoke with such conviction and intelligence. You found yourself looking forward to her presence, her shadow becoming a constant comfort amidst the chaos of Nevermore.

One day, while working on a school project in the library, you accidentally brushed your fingers against hers while reaching for a book. The contact was electric, sending a jolt of warmth through your body. You froze, meeting her gaze, your heart racing as you realized how close you had become.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Are you afraid of me?”

You shook your head, the words tumbling out before you could think. “No. I’m… intrigued. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

She seemed to consider your words, her dark eyes searching yours. “I suppose I’m not.”

With a sudden confidence, you leaned closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “Why do you protect me?”

“Because you’re worth protecting,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of her words hung in the air like a spell.

The moment stretched between you, filled with unspoken emotions and possibilities. You wanted to reach out, to close the distance, but the moment was fragile.

“Do you want to be friends?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

“Friends,” Wednesday repeated, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered the term. “I suppose that would be acceptable.”

As the weeks turned into months, your bond with Wednesday deepened. You shared secrets in the dark corners of the library, and her dry humor slowly chipped away at the walls you had built around your heart. There were moments when her fingers would brush against yours, lingering just a heartbeat longer, and you felt a thrill that was both exciting and terrifying.

But as your friendship grew, so did your feelings. You found yourself daydreaming about her—wondering what it would be like to hold her hand, to share whispered secrets late at night. You caught her watching you more often, and each time your eyes met, it felt like a silent understanding passed between you.

One afternoon, you found yourselves alone in the courtyard, the sun casting a warm glow over everything. You were sitting on a bench, reading, when Wednesday approached, her expression thoughtful.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her tone serious. “I need to talk to you.”

You looked up, meeting her intense gaze. “What is it?”

“Do you believe in destiny?” she asked, her voice almost hesitant.

You frowned, taken aback by her sudden vulnerability. “I suppose… it depends on what you mean.”

“I believe that certain people are meant to cross paths,” she continued, her dark eyes searching yours. “And I believe that you were meant to be here.”

Your heart raced as her words sank in. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, taking a deep breath, “that I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you. You’re… different. You make me feel things I don’t understand.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you processed her words. “I feel the same way, Wednesday.”

She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. “Then let’s stop pretending. We can be more than friends, if you want.”

You nodded, unable to speak as you felt tears prick your eyes. In that moment, you realized how far you had come. You had gone from being a scared girl, bullied and alone, to standing here with someone who saw you for who you truly were.

And then she was there, her lips brushing against yours—a soft, tentative kiss that quickly turned into something more passionate. You melted against her, wrapping your arms around her waist as you kissed her back, your heart soaring with a mixture of joy and relief.

When you pulled away, both of you breathless, Wednesday looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “This changes everything,” she said, her voice low and serious.

“Yes,” you agreed, smiling through your tears. “For the better.”

And as you stood there together, the shadows of Nevermore seemed a little less daunting, the future a little more promising. In Wednesday’s presence, you felt like you could finally be yourself, free from the burdens of the past. You were no longer alone, and that made all the difference.

[bloodiedrogue]

FEAR OF LOSING IT (4)

SUMMARY: When it's discovered that Astarion's being hunted, you take matters into your own bloody hands.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 4,235

WARNINGS: Teasing, spoilers for BG3, canon typical violence, minor character death, pining if you squint a little, feelings realized!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Day 4 is here! Prompt is "you're not scared, are you? Of Me?" So hopefully I did it justice?

Also sidenote, to anyone wanting to be on the taglist. I had a few issues tagging some people but I still put your name. Not sure why it won't let me tag so check your settings and next fic I'll try again.

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

The sun beams down as you walk along the water’s edge, carefully stepping over damp rocks and foliage with narrowed eyes. As per usual, you and Astarion are trailing behind the rest of the pack —you because of the hangover you’ve been nursing all morning; him because he lives to irritate you. 

“I don’t understand how you feel so ill. You barely had more than a few drops of that ale.” 

Slightly in front of you, Astarion steps around a patch of suspicious-looking rocks, turning to grab your arm and guide you out of the way as you scrunch up your face in disgust. 

The air is way too hot to be touched. Beneath the fabric of your tunic, you can feel your skin grow increasingly sticky, prompting you to brush off Astarion's hand but reluctantly still follow with a groan. 

“I drank more at camp,” you confess, feeling a pain radiate inside your head. One that’s almost reminiscent of the tadpole, pulsing in angry motions that make you close your eyes and quietly wince. 

Picking up on your discomfort, Astarion slows his pace, opting to walk alongside you rather than ahead. “And why in gods name did you decide to do that?”

Immediately, you shrug your shoulders, offering him nothing despite knowing the reason. Last night at the party you embarrassingly drank to forget all those thoughts. The ones filled with visions of hands and mouths gliding across your wanting skin. 

Even now you hate to admit it, but after parting ways, you were still a bit riled up. A mixture of anger and annoyance coating your soul once you finally got situated inside your tent, knowing deep down there wasn’t much you could do. Gale had already returned to camp before you so you definitely couldn’t do the deed yourself without the possibility of further embarrassment, and you sure as hell weren’t going to wander back to Astarion with your hands between your thighs, begging for release.

In the end, the only other option was to get pissed drunk, so you did. And now, you were greatly suffering the consequences in the form of a whole day’s worth of walking under the beating sun alongside an overly stubborn and nosy vampire. 

“All by your lonesome?” 

Without even having to think, he looks at you with the kind of false pity that makes you want to drown him. To lace your fingers in his perfect locks so that you can better shove his face into the water, never to hear that damned voice again. 

Gods, is it ever tempting...

Rolling your eyes, you swear under your breath and shove him aside instead, feeling the edge of your elbow make contact with his chest before you attempt to step forward, feeling his hand pull you back. 

Overall, the motion is quick and painless —a twirling rush that sends you hurtling into his frame, boxing you in in the form of a hand that rests against your lower back— but regardless it still surprises you. 

“Was it because you wanted it?”

His hand lingers against your leathers as he awaits your answer. Barely putting enough weight to truly hold you back, it quickly becomes obvious that your current stance against him is of your own volition. A choice you’ve made during a moment of weak desire as you deeply inhale the dewy air. 

“Wanted what?”

“You know.” 

At this point, you’re positive he knows that you secretly like it when he touches you. When he physically guides you through difficult terrain or lets your fingers brush when trading trinkets after a day of looting. You’ve never made it known that you dislike it —never protested, even during times of tense discussion. All you’ve ever done is make faces of annoyance, hoping he’ll take the hint.

He never does. Not even now, as you press both of your palms against his chest, applying a bit of pressure as you stare him down, does he think to move. To let his hand fall to his side to let you continue your stride. Instead, all it does is remain perfectly still, resting against the small of your back, waiting. 

It makes you swallow hard as you take a step back, feeling the resistance of your hip as it brushes through his fingers.

“You’re really not going to admit it?” he asks then, watching you pause. Feeling you stop mid-step to cock your head and flash him a grin so utterly snobbish, that his facade of confidence finally slips. 

“What? That I want to fuck you?” 

Your voice is patronizing. A pointed tongue laced with poison gunning for his throat. You want him to taste his own medicine. To feel what it’s like to be on the receiving end of taunting words that fluster, so you don’t say much more. All you do is stare, waiting for him to break.

“No, that you want me to fuck you,” he corrects almost immediately, his courage returning ten-fold. Doubling down on the way your mouth slightly opens in annoyance, because even in your boldest of moments he still manages to throw you off.

It makes you want to drown yourself instead, realizing just how persuasive he can be. Without trying, it’s as if he’s perfected every potential conversation before it’s happened. In his mind, he can look at a face —hear the beginnings of their voice and already have the correct response at the ready.

“Do you spend all your time thinking of ways to seduce anyone that gives you the time of day?” As you speak, you fully step away, turning on your heel to let out a shaky breath you pray he doesn’t catch. 

“Only the attractive ones, I suppose.” He laughs and follows behind, his footsteps echoing through the water as you attempt to catch up with the rest of the group. 

“Attractive ones, huh?” You peer over your shoulder with a raised brow. “Is that a genuine compliment you’re offering or another one of your usual deceptions meant to butter me up?”

He doesn’t tell you. Instead, he just offers you a shrug and purses his lips, leaving you guessing —an expression that only tightens the tension that’s seemingly begun to grow.

Well, at least for you. 

Since the night you let him feed, even you have to admit that you’ve found it increasingly hard to resist his charms, remembering how good it felt to just let go for a couple of moments. How, when it happened, there was an inkling of freedom that you felt was found. A new sense of clarity that arrived just as your lifeblood left. 

As much as you’d deny it if asked, you think about it often. At night, when you’re lying in your tent trying to sleep, you frequently attempt to replicate that feeling, calling upon your tadpole to replay the memory of the cold, numbness deep inside your throat.

As you step out of the water onto a patch of grass, you wish you could feel it now instead of the hangover. Instead of the sweltering heat and Astarion's piercing gaze penetrating the back of your head, waiting for another response he’ll just counter. 

It’d certainly make the daily trek you’re experiencing all the more bearable. Being able to forget about the aching in your skull for just a moment would solve at least half of your problems, maybe even two-thirds of them depending on how Astarion proceeds to act. On whether or not he walks in silence or—

“Do you smell that?”

You release a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling your impatience begin to build. “Smell what?”

He loudly sniffs beside you, his nose scrunching upwards dramatically before he turns his head, narrowing his eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t smell that?” 

“Smell w—“

  Before you even have time to react, it hits you. The foul stench of metallic burning through your mouth and nose, forcing you to cover your face with your hands.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” 

You nod, tightening the hold around your face as you continue forward, realizing you’ve somehow lost the rest of the group —something Astarion notices too, causing both of you to slightly panic.

“Oh, for fuck sakes, really? They couldn’t at least wait for us to finish our…”

As he trails off, waving his hand in the air to replace whatever words die in his throat, you catch a glimpse of an unfamiliar man up ahead, watching as the both of you continue.

“They’re probably over the hill,” you point out then, trying your best not to let the sudden nerves inside your chest get the better of you once you see the nameless man raise his hand, beckoning you closer.

“Who the bloody —do you know him?”

You look at Astarion as if he’s just said the stupidest thing known to man, still moving forward. “Ah yes, the mysterious man standing out in the open! Yes, I know him well, why?”

“Alright, no need to be cruel.” 

“Says you.”

Once again, his response fades to nothing. The argument slipping down his throat once the voice of the man calls out to you.

“Maybe he saw where the others went?”

Astarion scoffs. “Or maybe he’s the one who’s been setting up all those traps.”

“Traps?” 

You don’t remember seeing any traps. But then again, you’re not very perceptive when your head feels like it’s on the verge of splitting in half. 

“Yes, traps. The one’s I’ve been guiding you through like a fucking cattle dog!”

Letting your frustrations get the better of you shove him aside before you can think, turning to let both hands lay waste to his shoulder causing him to stumble sideways. As he does, he looks at you with hesitant curiosity; knitting his brows together while his mouth falls open into a half smile. 

An awkward laugh sounds through the pounding in your head as the footsteps draw near, prompting you to look ahead, noticing the man a few steps away, looking between the two of you. 

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” 

His words sound sincere —cautious in a way that has you peeling your gaze away from Astarion's wild expression to shake your head.

“No, sorry, just a, uh—“

“A lover’s quarrel,” Astarion finishes. “You know how it is.” 

Angrily you inhale, paying his obviously entertained face no mind as you continue to survey the man now in front of you, noticing the plainness of his clothes and the unkempt hair that circles his face like a halo. 

It’s apparent then that he’s been on the road for some time now. He’s not necessarily dirty looking but quickly you realize he’s the cause of the smell, making you swallow hard in an attempt to suppress the sickness that follows. 

“Ah yes, of course. My apologies.” He laughs —as does Astarion— while you just frown in between, trying not to blow another fuse. 

“I’m sorry but can we help you?” You crane your neck and smile sweetly, letting the more deceptive side of your mind take over, prompting Astarion to quickly clue in and do the same. 

“I was just speaking to your friends up there. They told me you were falling behind.” 

“And that’s your business because?” Raising your brow, you watch him falter for a moment.

“I’ve set some traps along the path. Nothing too hidden if you’ve got a keen eye like all of you, but still, I informed them of their whereabouts.”

Informed them of their whereabouts? Please. This man’s trapping skills are abysmal at best. 

You have to bite your lip once you hear Astarion's insult in the back of your mind, knowing he’s right. It’s one thing for him to notice the traps but for the rest of your party to as well? There’s no way they would’ve noticed if not for the lack of effort put into their placings.

“Well, uh, thank you. That’s decent of you.” You nod but make no effort to move. Instead, you just stand there motionless, staring him down, waiting for him to elaborate further so that you can better gauge this man’s intentions. 

You’re certain they’re anything but innocent. Given the smell wafting off his leathers and the way he keeps glancing over at Astarion with a slight twinkle in his eye makes your suspicion only grow. Your defensive walls rising to their highest point as you look at the vampire, allowing your tadpole to reach out. 

He’s up to something.

“Yes, well, I’m not hunting the likes of you so best avoid the unnecessary conflict and clean up.” The man’s gaze slowly turns to you, a hardened grin creeping through his features, causing you to twitch. 

There’s definitely something off. Something far more sinister underneath that polite expression and overly eager attempt at making small talk but you’re still not sure what it is. Or what it means when he offers you his help. 

“Fair point, but what are you hunting, may I ask?” 

“Something terrifying?” Astarion questions. “Perhaps a dragon or a kobold?”

What if it’s you?

Your partner’s eyes shoot to yours. Immediately, they fill with something you’ve never seen before. Bordering on fear, you’re quick to notice their unexpected vigilance. The building of a thought that drives his mind to something new. 

Suddenly in an instant, he’s overly alert, the movements of his shifting pupils making you wonder if maybe this is the man Astarion's been looking out for. That somewhere in his past he took advantage of the wrong person and they’ve been enacting their revenge ever since. Honestly, it’d make sense. Vampires aren’t the most well-liked of creatures, and although, aside from Astarion you’ve never experienced the company of one, it’s become increasingly obvious he’s a special case. A vampire that excels in all deceptive measures and tactics, preying heavily on whatever victims he can get his hands on. So, it wouldn’t be far off to think this man was hired to kill him. 

Making use of the tadpole again, you reach out silently, feeling no reluctance as the face of a man appears at the back of your mind, towering over you. Black as the night itself, he shrouds you in an ocean of thick shadows that conceal his face but not his presence, and because of this, there’s a panic that rises through your chest. Clutching your lungs with clawed fingertips that threaten to burst them like balloons. 

You force yourself not to look at Astarion as the memory continues —as an angry voice echoes through your ears telling you you’re his. That you belong to him and no one else and that if you so much as step a hair out of line he’ll hunt you down. 

Before you can even react the memory fades, leaving you there to piece together the man in the vision and the hunter standing before you, knowing they’re connected by a common enemy. Strung together by a tether of motivation that ties around Astarion's throat like a tightened noose. 

He’s not here to kill him but to take him away. To snatch him right under your noses by playing the unsuspecting hero. 

“As exciting as those options are, I'm actually on the lookout for a vampire spawn. His name is Astarion but I fear he’s already long gone.”

His confirmation is all you need to let your guard rise further up. Allowing your fingers to stretch against your sides, readying their need to reach for your weapon, you merely nod your head and let Astarion take the reins. 

“Oh, what a pity. It’s always like that for creatures to run away at the illest of moments, isn’t it?” He leans in with that same devilish grin, tossing aside all previous fears in favour of this newfound information. 

“Isn’t it,” the man parrots, shaking his head with a fake laugh. “Rather unfortunate considering I’m only trying to bring him home.” 

“Home?”

The word pours from your lips with such desperation that even the hunter questions your response. Raising his brow, he only slightly leans forward with interest, clicking his tongue as he glances between the two of you. “You wouldn’t happen to know this Astarion character, would you?” 

“I don’t think I’ve heard of him.” 

“Nope.” 

You sound like two opposing sides of a coin. Astarion, ever the charmer responds with subtly, the structure of his body remaining calm and collected while you remain a ball of nerves. A tightly wound set of muscle and bone too quick on the draw for your response to be deemed believable.

“He’s dangerous, you know. A wicked thing. Or, so I’ve heard.” He’s speaking solely to you but regardless Astarion continues to control the conversation, pulling it all back with a loud hum. 

“Wicked you say? Care to elaborate.”

There’s confusion for a moment. Then acceptance, prompting the man in front of you to explain. “While he’s nothing more than a vampiric spawn, he’s still got quite the head on his shoulders. Cunning, but nothing compared to a real vampire.” 

You know Astarion’s fuming beneath his facade then. Eagerly awaiting to rip this man apart, limb by bloody limb once the opportunity arises. You can feel his emotions through the tadpole —the way they pulse in angry waves, threatening to spill out at a moment’s notice. 

Almost instantly, it forces you to push him back. Closing your eyes for a second or two, you shift thoughts of comfort to his head, letting him know that you’re there. That if the moment comes where this hunter makes his move you’ll be ready to defend him.

Thankfully, it calms him down —steadies the rousing anger that you know is still there, lingering beneath the surface. Allowing him to take a few breaths, resetting himself for the inevitable. 

“I mean, I’m no expert but considering they’re still technically vampires I feel it’s safe to assume you’re still at the risk of… oh, I don’t know, injury? A good maiming perhaps if the spawn were to be particularly famished?” 

“You’re not wrong, I suppose. Spawns are particularly powerful compared to the average but considering the sun’s high and dry I’d say we have the advantage.” 

“Do we now?”

The two of you share a glance. Astarion's tadpole squirms in time with your own and in an instant a plot is formed.

“Actually, now that you mention it I have heard tell of this Astarion fellow,” you muse, watching the man’s expression. How it changes from innocent hero to hungry hunter at the drop of a hat. 

Next to you, Astarion nods his head, echoing your words.

“You don’t say?” 

“We were actually a part of a camp not far from here last night. A big group. So, it makes sense why the name didn’t come to me sooner.” You push out a fake laugh, acting as if the whole thing’s some silly little mistake while you wave a hand through the air. “Now that you’ve reminded me though, he was definitely there, lurking about like a little leech.” 

You wiggle your fingers for dramatics, earning a scoff inside your mind that has you forcing back a genuine laugh, sensing Astarion’s annoyance. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know what way he was going?” 

This time Astarion pipes up. “I remember him saying something but, honestly, my uh, memory is a big foggy.” 

As he raises a hand to his face, gripping the bridge of his nose, you motion the man to move close. “Perhaps a bit of coin could remind my uh, lover here of the information you seek.” 

Lover, huh? 

Paying no mind to his internal dialogue, you rub your fingers together to signify your partner’s needs, watching intently as the man leans back and looks at you with slight annoyance before taking a moment, realizing he’s got nothing to lose. 

Considering the payout will more than likely cover such costs, he quickly turns his attention to the bag resting on his hip, opening it up with slow hands that you jump at the chance to catch off guard. 

Pulling a dagger off your hip, you make no sound as you drive the blade into the side of his throat. All you do is press a hand to his mouth, covering the groans that swiftly coat your fingers in blood, following him toward the ground. 

“I’d say be wary the next time you come snooping in other people’s business but I’m afraid it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” you tell him, feeling him struggle. Seeing him reach out to grab the knife that sits tightly in your hand, wedging itself further into the apex of his neck. Suddenly, it makes you realize what you’ve done. 

You’ve just killed a man in cold blood. And for the life of another killer, no less. Without so much as a thought, you drove this man straight to his grave, knowing that if you didn’t the probability of him gaining the upper hand would only grow. That if he survived and caught on to your ploy, he could’ve taken Astarion away. 

You realize then that you’re anything but ready for something like that to happen. Sure, he may be the cause of a lot of your frustrations throughout the day but somehow he manages to balance them out with his charm. With his innate ability to provide you with a space that’s begun to border the lines of comfort the more time you spend with him. 

It’d hurt too much to let him go. But it’d hurt even more knowing he’d be going back to his old life. To the one you still know so little about but feel its pain. The never-ending threat of a figure controlling his every movement. He may not have spared the details but you know the last thing he wants is to find his way back there, so you did what you had to do to prevent that. To keep him safe just as you so subtly promised. 

Breathing heavily, you let go of the knife and look toward him, asking him if he’s okay. 

“Okay? Darling, you can’t be serious!”

“What?” 

He’s kneeling on the ground beside you before anything else, reaching to grab your shoulders, pulling you roughly into his chest. “You just asked that man to pay us money and then jabbed a knife through his throat. If anyone should be asking who’s okay here, it’s me.”

“I’m fine. Are y—“

“Shhh.”

Up until now, it hadn’t occurred to you how badly you’d been shaking. Against his chest, you can feel the tremors of adrenaline take over as your head slowly lowers to his shoulder, releasing a loud and shaky breath. 

You know exactly what came over you at that moment. The fear of losing the only person that’s ever made you feel happy despite your flaws became too real and it caused you to lose all sense of preservation. 

Almost instantly, you became nothing more than a weapon —a striking blade shoved through opposing flesh. You felt the threat of the moment and your mind flew through all the other possibilities, landing on the only ending where Astarion's safety was ensured. 

Realizing this, you slowly move to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling him hesitate halfway through. 

It’s obvious then you’ve crossed some sort of boundary, so you go to pull away, apologizing under your breath as you feel his grip only tighten. 

“Are you okay?”

You’re not sure why he’s asking. Or why he refuses to let you go. “Astarion, I said I’m fine.” 

“Yes but are you okay?”

One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, pulling your focus back to him. Forcing you to see the uncharacteristic care inside his eyes as he thumbs your skin. It causes your tadpole to wriggle almost uncontrollably, discovering the connection that’s there. The unspoken bond he shares with you now that you’ve proved your loyalty. It’s enough to earn your honesty. To admit that you’re not okay while he continues to hold you. 

You’re not sure why you care so much for him. Maybe it’s the attention he offers in a world where loneliness is often rampant or the way he makes you laugh even during the most unsightly moments. Either way, all you know is that in this moment you’re afraid he’ll hate you for it. For letting the curtain of snide remarks and harsh jokes slip to reveal a body of emotions too big for you to carry by yourself. 

“I couldn’t let him take you.” 

Your voice is barely above a whisper. So inaudible against the sounds of the world around you that for a second you think you’ve spoke to his mind.

“I see that. You struck him before I could even ask him to sweeten the deal.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Astarion snorts and moves his hand, letting it glide across your cheek until it finds purchase beneath your chin. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You saw a dangerous man and took charge. Honestly, it was frightening.” 

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of?”

“Of me?” 

The laugh he lets go of is so full that this time you feel him shake, his frame rattling against yours as he taps your chin. “Not in the slightest, my dear. Impressed, maybe. A little bit turned on too if I’m being frank but no. Not scared.”

-

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[sandumilfshou]

"why do you like jiang cheng?"

is such a weird question. what is there NOT to like?

sweet, insecure, covers up his embarrassment with fake anger, youngest baby sibling, heir to the sect, tries his hardest and is truly powerful and smart but doesnt look like it next to his beloved shixiong who is a genius and can do anything with barely any effort

desperate for his fathers approval, is aggressively mothered, pretends his shixiong is embarrassing and he wants nothing to do with him but is constantly letting himself get dragged into shenanigans

loses his entire sect and both his parents in one night, sacrifices himself in a potentially SI way to save his shixiong, becomes chronically disabled (for a cultivator), loses said brother he sacrificed himself for. gets plunged into a war as a teenager while trying to build up his sect from essentially nothing using his dead mother's weapon of choice.

goes through the sunshot campaign, wwx's demonic cultivation and defection, all while building up his sect again. loses yanli to the jin, loses wwx to the dafan wen. loses them both permanently. has no family remaining in the world, alone and vulnerable, except for infant jin ling.

3zun have essentially tied 3 of the 4 great sects together, leaving ymj out. vulnerable. so jiang cheng channels his mother and protects them by cultivating - successfully! - the reputation of the feared sandu shengshou who nobody wants to cross. forces himself to become angry and bitter to hide any remaining vulnerabilities, fragility, emotion.

threatens to break jin ling's legs but jin ling knows he is loved and is never scared of being physically harmed. raises the ymj out of the ashes to the point they can afford to lose 400 spirit nets without even worrying about it

jiang cheng is so broken and fragile and when he needs support, when he has lost everything and everyone, he has nothing. so he is forced to put himself back together, to harden his edges, to ensure that nobody will ever hurt him again. he is untouchable. he is respected. he is feared. he is powerful.

and despite all this, he still kept chenqing in pristine condition for over 10 years. he still trusts in wwx to do the right thing despite all the wrongs he has done. he cries, he rages, he threatens.

but in the end, jiang wanyin is the only one to come out of guanyin temple better than they went in. he wins. and he does it all by his fucking self.

even if all he wants now is jin ling to be safe and for wei wuxian to come home.

oh, and he looks like THIS:

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

Bi Han living with reader hcs

(bullet points and blurbs) THIS WAS FOR AN INBOX ASK BUT I DELETED IT NOOO SHAWTY IM SO SORRY!!! I HOPE DIVINE INTERVENTION SENDS YOU THIS POST TELEPATHICALLY UR A STAR!

-Unless it’s for marriage, you would only move in with him if it was a matter of your safety. 

-Otherwise he would just trust you to manage on your own since if you can handle him you can handle anything in the world 

-Let’s say during a moment of conflict where a large percentage of earthrealm was a risk, he would ask (more like order) you to stay with him with the Lin Kuei. 

-Going to his quarters is like walking into an expensive furniture store and being afraid to get your commoner hands on anything at all. 

-You are left to settle your meagre belongings yourself, with strict instructions not to wander into the training compounds without a guide (read: himself), and though there were the usual lin kuei members patrolling about, you still felt incredibly isolated. 

-But the feeling goes from loneliness to an almost childlike wonder. It eventually leads to you taking a museum tour around the place like DAMN! This is what rich people's shampoo looks like! It’s… not very used… which is a little gross. 

-He comes back from his duties and is surprised when you greet him! Not in a cute way, in the way that you have to dodge tree trunk arms being swung at you like baseball bats. 

-The time you spend together is very mundane. Any energy he has is used on the Lin Kuei, which is understandable and honestly preferable because you get to be around a SLIGHTLY less high-strung bi han

-That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the energy to be insufferably tungsten-like when it came to nighttime

It seemed as though he had long settled his belongings into the intricate bedside drawer. He had yet to answer your question, leaving you to wonder if it had been in bad taste. You nervously tilt your head, trying to get a better view of him. You see Bi Han’s broad back, blocking the blue moonlight in a way reminiscent of Batman standing above Gotham skylines. The thought makes you snicker, a sound that’s soft in theory but almost echoes in the deathly quiet room. It makes his tense shoulders jump to his ears, and you can see his dark eyes dart to the very corners as if trying to get a glimpse of you without physically turning around. He stays perfectly still, like if he just didn’t breathe he could melt into the fabric of the bedsheets. 

The realisation dawns upon you like a humouring punch to the gut. Was he nervous? The big, bad grandmaster of Lin Kuei, nervous to have his partner in his bed? You have to throw yourself to face the other way, hand covering your mouth like it was a hostage situation. Unfortunately, a few stray cackles manage to escape you and this time you hear Bi Han scoff out a ‘is there something funny?’ 

It’s uncharacteristically strained, like a defensive child having to explain their search history. My god, he was really thrown off-kilter by you! The unintentional ego boost goes straight to your head as you readjust yourself, using your elbow to prop yourself up in a position you could only hope came off as comedically seductive. The face you met with is priceless, a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and horror etched onto his sharp features. 

You let out a laugh that sounds more like a chicken squawking, one that’s unfortunately interrupted by a rock-hard grain pillow being hurled at your head. It lands perfectly, because Bi Han only ever does things perfectly, and the speed that you slump onto the bed has him wondering if he accidentally murdered the one person who tolerated him non-professionally. 

He barks out your name, and groans when he hears you laughing from under your potential murder weapon. It’s not as amusing to him as it is for you, seeing as by the time you’ve freed yourself he’s turned his back to you with the air of an unforgiving housewife. No matter how much you grovel and paw at his head and back he refuses to say anything, but you know he’s awake because he flinches whenever you poke his sides. 

Bi Han huffs like a guard dog when you stop pestering him (because common misconception, you did need to sleep as well) and right as you're drifting off to sleep you feel the bed shift, and the pleasant coolness of his body temperature a little closer. 

-He wakes up early in the mornings and I personally do not think this guy eats breakfast but he definitely drinks tea

-He wakes up early in the mornings and I personally do not think this guy eats breakfast but he definitely drinks tea

-You two can share the wonderful joy of standing shoulder to shoulder making your respective morning drinks and judging each other for it

-Bi Han have you considered that you are a cranky bat because you don’t have coffee in the morning 

-Haha. You are so Funny. Have you considered the fact that you are stuck in the bathroom for an hour in the morning because of it.

-Too far Bi han too far

-During his daily duties, like while he watches his little foot goons do their drills he sometimes spaces out and wonders what you are doing back in his quarters. 

-If he sees you walking around the compound, god forbid trying to get your 10k steps in he has to do a triple take, then storms towards you with the intention of an air strike. 

When he sees your familiar mop of head peek through the intricate pillars of the Lin Kuei compound, it’s like an alarm goes off in his head. Thankfully he had been alone, travelling from supervising two training grounds; so he has time to get to you personally. The way your face lights up almost qualms the lecture brewing in his mind, but then he remembers what happened the last time you were left alone with a room of his men (the lin kuei had never been so close to unionising. God fears the scorn of a charismatic woman.) 

“What did I tell you about leaving alone without a guide? I cannot have you wandering aimlessly like a lost child.” It’s a tirade that he’s gone through countless times, and it’s more of a custom than meaning any of the words. You also seem to know, with how you barely raise an eyebrow at his stern words. A cheeky smile carves your cheeks as you stick out an elbow, and even as he continues his rant he subconsciously goes to link your arms together. 

“I have a guide, do I not? And a very handsome one.” You sound collected and suave, but even he can see the way you high-five yourself for thinking of that pick-up line. He wants to frown, but the dopamine he gets from the flattery has him frowning happily, trying to bite back a snort.

-Hes not kicking his feet giggling when he sees you after a day of work… but hes not NOT twirling his hair and shuffling in place

-Gets mad when you don’t run up to him the moment he goes through the door

-Ok diva

[bouncybongfairy]

I loved your fics with zuko, so I wanted to ask you if you could do another one? They were like training together and then he has her in a grip amd heavy smut ? You can change things if you want

🫶🏻

Hot and Heavy

Prince Zuko x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: After complaining about not feeling challenged enough in class, your teacher brings in Zuko for you to spar. He wins, not without throwing a couple of unnecessary jabs. Feelings bad, he finds you later for a rematch. Once he gets his hands on you for the second time, he finds it hard to let go.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Smut.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Yesterday you’d complained to the bending instructor that things were too easy. That you didn’t feel challenged enough during class. You regretted this because it meant unknowingly sparing Zuko. There was something about him you couldn’t stand. Perhaps it was how cocky he could be or his uncontrollable anger. Whatever it was, it made your heart race whenever he was in your eyeline. The two of you were standing side by side in front of your teacher. 

“Since you’re wanting more of a challenge, Zuko is one of the best benders that’s your age,” he said. 

“Trust me if she was feeling invincible before this, she won’t after,” he said, looking you up and down before getting ready. 

Rolling your eyes before walking to your starting position. That little jab he made shook your nerves a bit, you trying to shake it off. Without waiting for the teacher to properly start the match, he just lunged. You jumped to the side and thought of a counter attack. The fire he was throwing towards you was so hot it burned your cheeks when it got close enough. He was trying his hardest to prove a point. That you didn’t have the physical merit to win. Dust and smoke were flying in the air, making it increasingly harder to see. No longer being able to see him, you were backing up trying to get distance. It wasn’t long before he shoved you onto the ground, pinning your body under him. You tried fighting back for a few moments but went limp after realizing there was no hope. 

“Challenged enough y/n?” your instructor asked as Zuko got off of you. Feeling embarrassed and prideful you dusted yourself off and walked away, saying nothing. 

“You’re welcome!” he called out to you aggressively. 

This comment stopped you in your tracks. Wanting to turn around and correct his arrogance but instead continuing home. Having enough confrontation for one day and not wanting to take on the daunting task of dealing with his anger issues. The walk home made you feel a bit better, the fresh air calming you down. Finally making it home and going to your room. Laying on your back and thinking about what happened; how you felt about it. Of course you were upset but the anger felt surface level. You knew he had a softer side because when he took you to the ground, he put his hand on the back of your head, in case it hit the pavement. There was something about that action that made your stomach twist and burn. Falling asleep while tossing these emotions around in your head. 

“Wake up! WAKE UP! The prince is here to see you, I don’t know why but get up and do your hair. He’s waiting, hurry!” your mother shook you awake. It didn’t register who was at the door as you sat half asleep fixing your hair. Your mom follows behind you, whispering things like ‘have good posture’ or ‘don’t bite your nails’ into your ear while approaching the door. 

“Hey, I was wondering if maybe we could talk?” Zuko asked. 

“About?” you asked, not sure where this was going. 

“Well, I just feel like I was a little too aggressive during our spar. I know how it feels to be unfairly overpowered. I shouldn’t have made those comments, I could have helped instead of just tearing you down. So I thought maybe I could show you a few corrections, if that’s okay… maybe,” he said nervously, which made you laugh a little. Staring at him for a couple moments to see if he was serious or not before responding,

“Do you wanna come in? Or did you have a place in mind?” you asked, trying to dull the grin on your face. 

He accepted your invitation in, complementing your mother on how well furnished the home was. She was on her way out to work, you were grateful for this. The last thing you needed was her watching from the window. He was standing before, in the exact same stance as from earlier. Your knees almost buckled from eye contact. He came at you slowly, walking you through how to block a certain attack. You weren’t really paying attention, he was grabbing your arms and showing where to put your hands. You were so flustered and this showed when he pinned you. 

“I’m starting to get the feeling you just want me on top of you,” he joked, tightening his grip on your wrists. While he was distracted, you flipped the two of you over. 

“So what if I do?” you asked, now straddling your hips. 

The tension was thick; so much adrenaline was running through your body, making your blood feel like it was buzzing. He grabbed you by the waist and brought you back to the ground. Pinning you to the pavement, grabbing your wrists so tight they started tingling. You were trying your best to free yourself but there was no escape. He was holding you down like you were about to evaporate into thin air. You press your lips against his which makes him loosen his grip.  

“Do you wanna go to my room?” you ask, both of you panting against each other's lips. 

He doesn’t verbally respond, instead he picks you up and has you navigate him to your room. Even as the two of you crawl onto the bed, he never lets go of you. Keeping at least one arm wrapped around you, pressing your body against his. Now starting to aggressively take the clothes off each other. Seeing how well defined his arms and stomach are was making your core melt. Looking down at you with such lush and need as your chest was exposed. He sits up on his knees and pulls his bottoms down. An involuntary moan escapes your mouth as you watch his length spring up against his stomach. 

“I’m gonna ride it,” you say, changing positions. 

“Not even a please?” he teased, pressing his back into your mattress. 

“I need it now,” you groan, climbing on top of him and sinking down. 

At first, stretching yourself around his cock caused a slight stinging. However being on top and being able to control the pace and depth made you feel more comfortable. Zuko was struggling to control himself, having to apologize every time his hips jerked on their own. As you started rocking your hips faster, he pressed kisses all over your face. Praising you for how well you worked himself on his cock. He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you against him. Your stomach was pressed against his, he took over and started frantically bucking hip. Pounding into you hard enough to make cum, clenching and tightening around his member. Grinding your hips down, trying to press his cock as deep as possible. Him following shortly after, jerking into you as your walls milked his cock. After the two of you rode out the oxytocin highs, he had to get back to the palace. Not giving you a quick peck and scheduling another ‘training session’ for tomorrow.

[stellamancer]

limitless (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: uh. should be working on my halloween fic lmaoo. but uh. thought i'd bang this out. inspired by a conversation with @shotorus about the names we use to refer to certain characters in narration. lmao.

contains: fem! reader (the only physical trait is that reader is shorter than gojo, gojo almost uses a gendered term for reader, but is cut off), established relationship (me: coughs up blood), typical gojo antics, nickname usage (darling, honey, sweetheart, babe), part of the infinite loop fic verse

wc: around 720

"...I have a question."

You look at Gojo expectantly. Normally, he just says whatever is on his mind without pause, without filter, so you don't get why he's standing on ceremony right now. "Yeah?"

"We're dating, aren't we?" he asks.

You nearly spit out your drink. He's not wrong; for better or worse, he is your boyfriend now. The fact of it is actually kind of unbelievable when you think about it. Not just you dating Satoru Gojo. But you dating Satoru Gojo. If you had told yourself that it would have come to this ten years ago, even five years ago, you would have thought yourself a liar.

Now he's the one giving you the expectant look, his lips curved upward that little smile that always manages to get your blood boiling. The cocky bastard probably just wants you to admit it.

You consider saying 'no' just for the hell of it.

You decide not to. It feels almost as if you’re pulling teeth when you respond, “...we…are.”

Gojo’s mouth puckers and you brace yourself knowing full well that he’s about to start whining about something. There’s always something with this guy…"If we’re dating, then why am I still just 'Gojo' to you? I call you by your first name!"

"You've always called me by my first name," you dead pan.

"That's because I've always loved you!"

You roll your eyes. You know that's a lie, but you don't intend to argue with him— at least not head on because you know that it’s just going to lead to a dead end. "No, you love disregarding proper social etiquette. Or rather, you don't see the point in it."

"Oh, darling, you know me so well!" Gojo gives you a saccharine smile and you almost gag.

"Don't call me that."

He pouts. "Well, if you say I always call you by name, shouldn't I call you something else to show how special you are to me?"

"...no, actually, just my name is fine." A nickname from Gojo sounds dangerous. The thought of being called some cutesy nickname in front of everyone you know is mortifying. In fact, Gojo would do it solely to embarrass you.

So, naturally, he ignores you. "If darling is no good, what about... babe? Honey?"

"Gojo, really, you don't—"

"Sweetheart? My love? Oh, I know, I bet you'd love to be called pr—"

"Satoru."

He immediately stops talking, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. You didn't think that that would have that much of an effect to be honest. For once, it feels like you have the upper hand. You make sure to savor the moment because you know they are far and few in between.

"Just my name is fine," you repeat. "...okay?"

He gulps and answers, "...okay."

You try not to let your mind linger on the fact that his voice just now was lower than usual. "Good. So—"

"Say it again."

You blink. "Huh."

"My name," Gojo says, his voice thick with emotion. "Say it again."

When you don't say anything he takes a step toward you, the infinite cosmos in his eyes staring you down. You feel defiant. It's not fair of him to ask you anything when he looks and sounds like this. Gojo takes another step closer and you think that if you're adamant about not giving in to him you better do it before he gets too close.

"You've... " you start and hate how breathless you sound. This bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to you. "You've hit your daily limit."

Gojo pouts and takes another step. "Well, that's not fair."

"You're not fair," you retort.

He doesn't argue and you take that as Gojo admitting that he's playing dirty. "I think you should up the limit."

You hold your ground as he takes one more step closer.. "No. You think there shouldn't be a limit."

Gojo chuckles and leans down to bridge the rest of the distance between you. He cups your cheek, bringing your face closer to him. Your breath stills as you feel his own on you and it’s damn near intoxicating. His mouth is barely touching yours and your thoughts shift from trying to keep the banter going to how the slightest movement from either of you will result in a kiss.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours. “There shouldn’t.”

[moonselune]

Yo, seeing possessive and protectiveness in them ladies, I got a thought... what if Reader's got some primal blood in them (werewolf, dragonborn, etc.) and they get heats instead of periods?

They try to hide 'em out of embarassment or shyness, but the ladies catch on at some point and... well, Reader ain't taking care of those alone anymore. 👀

yesyesyes

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

It had been a long night under the full moon, and by the time you returned to camp, your body ached in ways that were hard to explain. The pull of your blood, the raw, primal energy coursing through you, was always heightened during the full moon, but this time was different. Stronger. You could feel it deep in your bones, an almost animalistic need settling in, and every fiber of your being screamed for release.

You had werewolf blood running through your veins, something you usually managed to control, but the days following a full moon always left you in a strange state—on edge, restless, and burning with a need you couldn’t quite explain. The heat was beginning to crawl under your skin, a fire igniting that was both physical and emotional. It was something you tried to hide, embarrassed by how consuming it was.

Karlach had always been your anchor, her warmth and her fiery spirit grounding you, but tonight… tonight that primal hunger you usually kept buried surged to the surface. You couldn’t let her see you like this. You couldn’t let her see how desperately you wanted her, how much you wanted to mark her, claim her as your own in a way that went far beyond just affection. It was pure instinct, and you were ashamed of the raw need clawing at your insides.

You paced in your tent, trying to burn off the heat, trying to breathe through the desire building in your chest, but it was no use. Every thought you had was of her—her scent, her skin, her laughter. You could hear her talking with the others by the campfire, and just the sound of her voice made your body react. Your fingers curled into fists, and you clenched your jaw, determined to keep it together.

But Karlach knew you too well.

At some point, she had noticed your absence, and without a word, she had slipped away from the campfire to find you. She entered the tent quietly, her large frame casting a shadow over you as she stepped inside. You froze when you heard her boots hit the ground, your back to her, trying to steady yourself. But she could smell it, sense it in the air—the tension, the heat radiating from you in waves.

“Hey, darling,” Karlach’s voice was low and soft, but there was a hint of playfulness in it. “Where’ve you been? I was starting to think you didn’t want to spend time with me tonight.”

You didn’t turn around, your muscles taut as you tried to compose yourself.

“I—I just needed some space,” you stammered, your voice rougher than you intended. “Nothing to worry about.”

But Karlach wasn’t stupid. She stepped closer, her gaze narrowing as she took in the way you stood, the way your hands trembled slightly at your sides. She could sense the heat rolling off of you in waves, and her brow furrowed as she took another step forward, her voice dropping lower.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her tone more serious now. “You’re not yourself.”

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, not daring to meet her eyes. “It’s… it’s just after the full moon,” you mumbled, trying to wave it off. “It happens sometimes.”

She tilted her head, her eyes scanning you with a knowing look. “You’re in heat, aren’t you?”

The question made your heart skip a beat, and you cursed under your breath. Of course, she would figure it out. Karlach was too intuitive, too in tune with you to miss the signs. You could feel the flush rising in your cheeks as you clenched your fists, still facing away from her.

“I didn’t want to make it your problem,” you admitted quietly, the tension in your voice betraying just how much you were struggling to hold it together. “I can handle it.”

Karlach chuckled softly, her voice warm but teasing. “Handle it, huh?” She took another step forward until she was standing right behind you, her presence overwhelming in the best way. “From the way you’re standing, it doesn’t look like you’re handling much of anything.”

You let out a frustrated growl, the wolf inside you bristling at the teasing. But there was something in her voice, in the way she said it, that made the heat flare even hotter. You finally turned to face her, your eyes locking onto hers, and the intensity in your gaze made her pause for just a moment.

“Karlach, I don’t think you understand,” you said, your voice rough and low. “I want to mark you. I want to claim you. I… I can’t control it.”

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but then that playful grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Oh, I understand, alright,” she said, her voice husky as she stepped closer, so close now that you could feel the heat of her body against yours. “I understand more than you think.”

You swallowed hard, your instincts screaming at you to pull her close, to bury yourself in her warmth and scent, but you hesitated.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, your voice strained. Karlach’s expression softened, and she reached up to cup your cheek, her touch gentle yet grounding.

“You’re not going to hurt me, big guy,” she murmured, her thumb stroking your jawline. “I’m right here. I’m not afraid of you.”

That was all it took to snap the last thread of restraint. With a growl, you pulled her into your arms, your hands gripping her waist as your lips crashed against hers in a heated kiss. The taste of her, the feel of her, was like fire igniting your blood, and you couldn’t get enough. You pushed her back against the wall of the tent, your body pressing against hers as the need to claim her, to make her yours, took over.

Karlach responded eagerly, her hands tangling in your hair as she kissed you back with just as much fire. Her scent was intoxicating, and you could feel the wolf inside you roaring to mark her, to sink your teeth into her neck and make her yours forever. But even in your primal state, you held back, not wanting to push her too far.

But then Karlach pulled back slightly, her lips swollen and breathless, and she met your gaze with a smoldering intensity that made your heart race.

“Do it,” she whispered, her voice rough with desire. “Mark me.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. With a low growl, you lowered your head and gently bit down on her neck, careful not to break the skin but enough to leave your mark. Karlach gasped, her fingers tightening in your hair as she arched against you, her body responding to every touch, every claim you made on her.

You didn’t stop until you were both breathless, your lips brushing against the mark you had left on her skin. When you finally pulled back, you were panting, your heart pounding in your chest, but the heat had subsided slightly, replaced by a deep sense of satisfaction and connection.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The full moon hung low in the sky, casting its silver light over the camp. You had tried to keep to yourself, away from prying eyes, but there was no denying it now—the dragon blood in your veins was singing, demanding more than you could suppress. This time of year always brought with it an overwhelming sense of need, something deep and primal that you tried to hide out of embarrassment. After all, how could you explain to Minthara, the fierce and proud Drow, that your draconic blood made you… like this?

Your heat had been building for days, and you had done everything you could to keep it at bay. But tonight, it was too strong to ignore. Your every thought was consumed by her—by the need to claim her, to keep her close, to hoard her like the most precious of treasures. The desire to see her adorned in something shiny and beautiful, to have her be yours in every way, was almost overwhelming.

You had hoped to keep it hidden, but Minthara was no fool. She had noticed the way you had been avoiding her, the way you had been tense and distracted, and she wasn’t one to let things go unnoticed.

As you sat in your tent, your mind racing with thoughts of her, the flap opened, and Minthara stepped inside. Her presence was commanding as always, her eyes narrowing as she looked at you with suspicion.

“What’s going on with you?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “You’ve been acting strange.”

You didn’t meet her gaze, your hands gripping your knees tightly as you tried to keep your composure.

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, knowing full well that she wouldn’t accept that as an answer.

“Lies,” she snapped, her tone brooking no argument. She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied you. “You’ve been avoiding me. You’re hiding something.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest, the dragon inside you growling with the need to claim her, to make her yours in a way that left no doubt in anyone’s mind. But how could you explain that without sounding like a fool?

“I’m not hiding anything,” you tried to protest, but the words sounded weak even to your own ears. Minthara’s eyes flashed with anger, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Do not lie to me,” she warned, her voice dangerous. “You are acting like a caged beast. What is it that you are so desperately trying to hide?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the words. Finally, you sighed, knowing that you couldn’t keep it from her any longer.

“It’s… it’s the dragon blood,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “When the heat comes… I feel this overwhelming need to—”

“To what?” Minthara demanded, her eyes narrowing further.

“To claim you,” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. “To keep you close, to hoard you like treasure. It’s… it’s embarrassing.”

There was a moment of silence as Minthara processed your words, her expression unreadable. You braced yourself for her to laugh, to mock you, or worse, to leave. But instead, she surprised you.

“Claim me?” she repeated, her voice softer now, almost curious.

You nodded, still unable to meet her gaze. “It’s instinctual. I want to see you adorned in something beautiful, something that marks you as mine. I want to keep you close, protect you. It’s… it’s ridiculous, I know.”

Minthara was silent for a moment, and you could feel her eyes on you, studying you. Then, to your surprise, she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to gently lift your chin so that you were forced to look at her.

“Ridiculous?” she echoed, her voice low and steady. “I think not.”

You blinked, taken aback by her response. “You… you don’t think it’s foolish?”

A small, amused smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Why would I find it foolish that you wish to claim what is yours? That you want to see me adorned in the way you desire? You forget, I am a Drow. We understand the need to possess, to dominate. But your intentions… they are different. More protective.”

You swallowed hard, the tension in your body easing slightly at her words. “I don’t want to force anything on you,” you murmured. “I just… I want you to be mine.”

Minthara’s eyes softened, and she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “I am already yours, fool.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, she pulled back slightly, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

“But if it will ease your need, then adorn me as you wish,” she continued, her voice taking on that commanding tone once more. “Show me how a dragon claims their treasure.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you felt the fire in your chest flare up once more. Without a word, you reached for the small chest beside your bed, where you had been keeping the pieces you had gathered for her—jewelry, silks, things that shimmered in the light. They were all things that reminded you of her, things you had been too shy to give her before.

As you pulled out the items, you felt Minthara’s eyes on you, watching your every move with an intensity that made your heart race. You offered her the pieces one by one, your hands trembling slightly as you draped a shimmering necklace around her neck, slid rings onto her fingers, and adorned her wrists with bangles. Each piece seemed to make her more radiant, more yours, and the sight of her like this made the dragon inside you purr with satisfaction.

Minthara watched you with a mix of amusement and something else—something deeper, more intense. When you had finished, she stood before you, her eyes gleaming with that fierce pride you had come to love so much.

“Do I meet your satisfaction, my dragon?” she asked, her voice low and sultry as she did a little twirl for you.

You could only nod, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. She was breathtaking, and knowing that she was adorned in something that marked her as yours made the primal need in your chest settle, the heat cooling into something warmer, more intimate.

But Minthara wasn’t done. She stepped closer, her hands resting on your shoulders as she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

“You do not need to hide from me,” she whispered against your lips. “If you wish to claim me, then do so. But know that I am already yours, in every way that matters.”

The words were like a balm to your soul, easing the tension and the fear that had been gnawing at you. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close as you buried your face in her neck, inhaling her scent and feeling the last of your worries melt away.

You would protect her, hoard her, keep her close—because she was your treasure, your most precious possession. And she had chosen to be yours.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The past few days had been a blur of heightened emotions and restless nights, each passing moment building into a storm of desire that you could no longer ignore. As a tiefling, the infernal blood in your veins carried with it certain… challenges. One of them was the heat that overtook you at irregular intervals, a primal force that you had always been embarrassed about. You had tried to hide it, to keep your growing urges under control, but the more you resisted, the more your devilish side took hold.

It was Lae'zel who finally caught on. She was sharp, perceptive, and far too attuned to your every move to miss the signs. The way you had become more possessive of her lately, your touches lingering just a bit longer, your gaze following her every move with a hunger that was impossible to disguise. And then there was the way you bristled whenever anyone else spoke to her, the jealousy flaring so hot it threatened to boil over.

One night, after yet another sleepless struggle to keep yourself in check, Lae'zel decided it was time to confront you. You were in your tent, pacing back and forth, your tail twitching with agitation. The need to claim her, to keep her close and away from everyone else, was becoming overwhelming.

She stepped inside without a word, her presence immediately grounding you, but also intensifying the heat that coursed through your veins. You froze, your glowing eyes locking onto hers, a low growl rumbling in your chest despite your attempts to suppress it.

"Lae'zel," you began, trying to find the words, to explain what was happening, but they caught in your throat. She didn’t need you to explain, though. She had already pieced it together.

"I know what’s happening," she said, her voice firm and unwavering as she crossed the tent to stand before you. "You’ve been trying to hide it from me, but I am no fool."

You swallowed hard, looking away in shame. "I didn’t want you to see me like this. It’s… it’s not something I’m proud of. This need to… possess you, to keep you to myself. It’s too much. I don’t want you to think less of me."

Lae'zel’s gaze softened, just a fraction, as she reached out to cup your chin and force you to meet her eyes again.

"You are a tiefling, and this is part of who you are," she said, her voice a mix of strength and understanding. "Do not insult me by thinking I would be repulsed by your nature."

Her words sent a wave of relief crashing through you, but they also stoked the fire burning inside. You didn’t realize how close you had moved to her until you were inches away, your breath mingling with hers as you stared into her fierce, unyielding gaze. The need to claim her, to mark her as yours, flared again, and this time, you didn’t fight it.

"Lae'zel," you murmured, your voice thick with desire. "I want… I need to keep you close. To shower you with everything I feel, to show you that you belong to me, and only me."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "If you want to keep me to yourself all day and shower me in praise and affection, then do so if you must," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

You could see the way her eyes darkened with anticipation, the way her body leaned just slightly into yours. She was giving you permission, and that was all the encouragement you needed.

With a low growl of approval, you closed the distance between you, pulling her flush against your body. Lae'zel didn’t resist—in fact, she responded in kind, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as you claimed her lips in a searing kiss. It was a clash of wills, both of you pushing against each other, yet neither wanting to pull away.

When you finally broke the kiss, both of you were breathing hard, and your devilish instincts were screaming at you to keep her even closer. You gently maneuvered her onto the bed, hovering over her as you drank in the sight of her beneath you, her golden eyes staring up at you with a mixture of defiance and desire.

"I want you, Lae'zel," you whispered, your voice raw with need. "I want to mark you, to keep you here with me, where no one else can touch you."

Lae'zel’s smirk softened into something more tender as she reached up to trace a finger along your jawline. "Then do it," she challenged, her voice dropping to a low purr. "If it is what you truly desire, show me. Claim me, as you wish."

You didn’t need to be told twice. With a growl of approval, you bent down to kiss her again, your hands roaming over her body as you reveled in the feeling of her beneath you. This wasn’t just about possession—it was about the deep connection you shared, the bond that had only grown stronger with time.

As the night wore on, you took your time showing Lae'zel just how much she meant to you. Every touch, every kiss, was filled with the intensity of your emotions, the need to make her feel cherished and desired. And through it all, Lae'zel responded with equal passion, her strong hands pulling you closer, her lips whispering words of encouragement and praise.

When you finally lay together in the aftermath, your body still humming with the remnants of your heat, Lae'zel traced lazy circles on your chest, her breath warm against your skin.

"You are a fierce lover," she murmured, her voice laced with satisfaction. "Perhaps you should take these urges out on me more often."

"You are always the source of them," You chuckled softly, pulling her closer as you nuzzled into her hair.

Lae'zel’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile as she settled against you, her presence soothing the last of your devilish urges.

"Good," she said simply, before drifting off into a contented sleep. As you lay there, holding her close, you felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t experienced before.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─��─

Shadowheart:

The first signs were subtle. You’d find yourself tensing whenever someone else’s gaze lingered on Shadowheart for too long, a simmering heat building in your chest. It started as a prickling irritation, easily brushed off as nothing more than a passing annoyance. But then, it grew stronger, harder to ignore, until every interaction she had with anyone else felt like a personal affront.

It was the nymph blood in you, you knew that much. The heritage you often tried to downplay, to keep under control, was now manifesting in ways you hadn’t anticipated. The intense jealousy, the possessiveness, the irrational need to keep Shadowheart all to yourself—these were emotions you had never wanted to display, especially not to her.

You tried to hide it, to push those feelings down deep where they wouldn’t see the light of day. But it was like trying to suppress the tides; the more you resisted, the stronger they surged back. You began avoiding her, distancing yourself in the hope that it would ease the tension within you. Yet, every time you saw her laughing with someone else, heard her voice calling someone else’s name, the jealousy would flare up again, fierce and uncontrollable.

Shadowheart, of course, noticed. She was patient at first, giving you space and allowing you to come to her when you were ready. But as the days passed and your behavior grew more erratic, more distant, she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

One evening, after an especially difficult day where you had snapped at her for something trivial, Shadowheart finally cornered you. The two of you were in the small grove near camp, the trees surrounding you providing a semblance of privacy. You were trying to calm yourself, hands clenched into fists as you stared out at the darkening sky, when she approached.

“Alright, enough of this,” Shadowheart said, her tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve been acting strange for days now, and I want to know why.”

You stiffened, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew you couldn’t keep this from her any longer, but the fear of her reaction was overwhelming. What if she found you repulsive? What if she decided she couldn’t handle the darker side of your nature?

“I… I don’t know if I can explain,” you mumbled, still unable to meet her gaze. “It’s… it’s my heritage. The nymph blood in me, it’s causing these emotions that I can’t control. I’m jealous, Shadowheart. Irrationally, absurdly jealous. I want to keep you all to myself, and it’s eating me up inside.”

The confession spilled out of you in a rush, leaving you breathless and trembling. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, couldn’t bear to see the disgust or disappointment in her eyes. But then, you felt her hand on your cheek, gentle and reassuring.

“Look at me,” Shadowheart murmured softly.

Reluctantly, you lifted your gaze to meet hers. Instead of the judgment you had feared, you found only understanding and a hint of amusement.

“Do you really think this would repulse me?” she asked, her voice laced with affection. “After everything we’ve been through, you think a little possessiveness would scare me off?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was trying to control you,” you whispered, your voice raw with emotion. “I don’t want to lose you, Shadowheart. But this… this part of me, it’s so intense. It makes me feel things I’m ashamed of.”

She silenced your self-doubt with a kiss, soft and tender at first, but quickly deepening as she pulled you closer. You could feel the warmth of her body against yours, her hands threading through your hair as if to reassure you that she wasn’t going anywhere. The kiss was grounding, anchoring you back to reality, to her.

As the kiss intensified, the world around you seemed to blur. Vines began to creep up from the ground, winding around your legs, your arms, and twining around Shadowheart as well. Flowers bloomed in a burst of color, their scent sweet and heady in the air. You were entwined with her, both literally and figuratively, as the vines and flowers continued to grow, cocooning the two of you in a fragrant, living embrace.

Neither of you pulled away, lost in the moment as your kiss deepened, your lips moving together in perfect harmony. It was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you, surrounded by the wild beauty of nature.

The next morning, you woke to find the two of you still wrapped in the remnants of the night’s emotions. Vines and flowers clung to your skin, twigs caught in your hair, but there was something undeniably magical about it. Shadowheart was lying beside you, her eyes still closed in peaceful slumber, a serene smile on her lips.

As you gently brushed a stray petal from her cheek, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. She hadn’t turned away from your darkness, hadn’t recoiled from the intensity of your emotions. Instead, she had embraced it, embraced you, with a love that was stronger than anything you had ever known.

When Shadowheart finally stirred, blinking sleepily up at you, she let out a small laugh.

“Looks like we had quite the night,” she murmured, plucking a flower from her hair.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice filled with affection. “We did.”

Shadowheart reached out to take your hand, her touch warm and reassuring. “No more hiding, alright? Whatever you’re feeling, we’ll face it together.”

You nodded, feeling a profound sense of peace settle over you. With Shadowheart by your side, you knew you could handle anything, even the wildest parts of your nature. And as the morning light filtered through the leaves, you both lay there, content and surrounded by the beauty you had created together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

After the full moon, you could already feel the familiar burn creeping into your veins. The transformation had left you raw, your senses heightened, your instincts sharpened. But it wasn’t the urge to hunt or howl that clawed at your mind this time. No, it was something far more primal—an intense, overwhelming need that surged through you, making it difficult to think about anything other than Jaheira.

You knew what it was: your heat. It always came after a full moon, the residual power of your werewolf blood igniting a fierce desire within you. And this time, it was worse than ever.

Jaheira was nearby, just on the other side of the campfire, tending to something, unaware of the battle raging inside you. She had a way of calming you, grounding you, but now, just the sight of her was enough to make your blood boil.

You clenched your fists, trying to resist the urge to go to her, to claim her in the most primal way possible. She was strong, confident, and you knew she could handle herself, but this… this was different. The last thing you wanted was to lose control and frighten her—or worse, hurt her.

So you stayed where you were, muscles tensed, trying to fight back the flood of emotions. But it was no use. The more you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until every fiber of your being was screaming for her.

You decided to put some distance between you, thinking that maybe it would help. You retreated to the edge of the camp, away from the warmth of the fire and the sight of Jaheira. But even that wasn’t enough. The scent of her still lingered in the air, intoxicating and irresistible.

Before you could stop yourself, you were already halfway back to her, drawn like a moth to a flame. Your steps were heavy, deliberate, each one a battle against the urge to let your instincts take over.

Jaheira must have sensed something was off because she looked up just as you approached. Her green eyes met yours, and in that moment, you knew there was no hiding it anymore.

She raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on her lips as she took in your tense posture, the way your chest heaved with barely restrained need. “You look like you’re about to tear something apart,” she remarked, her tone light, but there was an edge of concern there, too.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. All you could do was stare at her, your mind a whirlwind of desire and restraint.

Jaheira’s expression softened, and she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch your arm.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice low, soothing. That simple touch was enough to break what little control you had left. You flinched, pulling away from her, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“I… I can’t,” you muttered, trying to put more distance between you, but she didn’t let you. Her grip on your arm tightened, pulling you back to her.

“Can’t what?” she pressed, her gaze piercing, searching yours for answers. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of her, the scent of her, the feel of her.

“I’m… in heat,” you finally admitted, the words tumbling out in a strained whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There was a moment of silence, and you braced yourself for her reaction. You expected her to pull away, to be afraid, to tell you to leave. But instead, you felt her other hand on your cheek, turning your head to face her.

“Look at me,” she commanded, and you couldn’t help but obey.

When you opened your eyes, you found her staring at you, her expression calm, understanding. “You won’t hurt me,” she said, her voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

“But—” you started to protest, but she cut you off with a shake of her head.

“No,” she insisted, her tone gentle but unyielding. “You won’t. I know you.”

Her confidence in you was staggering, and it made your heart ache. How could she be so sure, so calm, when you were on the verge of losing control? But then again, this was Jaheira—strong, steady Jaheira, who had seen and survived more than most could imagine.

You let out a shuddering breath, the tension in your body easing slightly at her words. But the heat, the need, was still there, burning under your skin, and it took everything in you not to just give in to it.

Jaheira seemed to sense your struggle, and she stepped even closer, until there was barely any space between you.

“If this is what you need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear, “then take it. I’m not afraid.”

Her words sent a jolt of desire through you, and before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you were pulling her against you, your lips crashing down on hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

Jaheira didn’t resist. In fact, she responded with just as much fervor, her hands tangling in your hair as she kissed you back, matching your intensity. It was like she was grounding you, reminding you of who you were, who she was, and that you could do this without losing yourself.

The world around you faded, and all that mattered was her—her taste, her scent, the feel of her body pressed against yours. The primal need to claim her, to mark her as yours, surged up, but this time, it was tempered by the knowledge that she was here with you, willingly, that she trusted you.

You pulled away just enough to look into her eyes, your breath coming in heavy pants.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you repeated, but this time, it was more of a plea than a warning. Jaheira cupped your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the stray hairs sticking to your skin.

“You won’t,” she whispered, her eyes filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “You could never hurt me.”

The last of your restraint crumbled at her words, and you captured her lips again, more gently this time, but still with that underlying need. Jaheira responded in kind, her hands roaming over your body, grounding you, reminding you that you were in control, that you were safe.

When you finally pulled away, your forehead resting against hers, the heat in your veins had cooled to a more manageable burn. Jaheira smiled up at you, her expression soft, reassuring.

“Better?” she asked, her voice low, intimate.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yes… much better.”

Jaheira chuckled softly, brushing a kiss against your temple. “Good. Now, let’s get you through this, together.”

With her by your side, you knew you could face whatever your heat threw at you. She was your anchor, your rock, and with her, you were never alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I lovedddd writing this and when the modding support comes out I am so downloading a nymph mod. Hope you guys liked it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras

Word Count - 3600

Author's Note - I 100 percent projected my own dysleixia hardcore into this. This was 100 percent written for the dyslexic girlies and learning disability girlies only. Also not me accidentally maybe becoming a Trevor girlie after writing this oh no. This one is by far my favorite segment.

Warnings - light angst but like it ends happy shocking for this page, who am I becoming???

Summary - In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.

Let me love you masterlist main masterlist

This isn’t something new to you, you’ve struggled your entire life with the fact that you're dyslexic. It’s a lot more complicated than people may recognize. Many people assume that it only comes up when you're trying to read something like a textbook or an article, and that when you’re finished with school it won’t really affect your daily life anymore but that’s far from the truth. In truth, being an adult with dyslexia affects you in little ways daily. From having difficulty knowing your left and right when given verbal directions, your spelling being terrible when texting others, mispronouncing certain words and being easily embarrassed when it gets pointed out, or worse sometimes the word is literally on the tip of your tongue you can even physically see in your brain but your mouth can’t form the proper sounds, how certain fonts you struggle to read vs others, or that black ink on white paper is the bane of your existence.  Although all of these are “little” things, it does impact the way you communicate with others. It does feel extremely frustrating sometimes feeling like people think that you're using your dyslexia as an “excuse” when in reality your brain is wired completely differently because of it. 

Since you first met Trevor and started talking to him, you had that fear you always do in the pit of your stomach, will he pick on you the first time that he truly can’t understand a text or the first time he hears you mispronounce a word despite years of speech therapy where you tried to but still you can’t pronounce correctly. Although, part of you knew that your fear was extremely irrational, part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that was until proven otherwise the jokester in Trevor would make a joke about something you truly couldn’t control. 

That is until today, when it happened it’s one of those rare days when you were driving and Trevor was in the passenger seat. His car was in the shop, and he needed a ride back from the arena to his apartment. Originally he was going to take an Uber but since you both already had plans after the morning skate you insisted on picking him up. 

“It’s easiest if you take this right up here to get back to my place.” He directs you without looking up from his phone,you tell him okay, turn on your left turn signal and get in the left lane. Trevor finally looks up from his phone while you're waiting at the red light for it to turn green to see you're in the wrong lane. 

“Sweetie?” asking in a questioning tone

“Hmmm” 

“This is the left lane. I told you to take a right.” Trevor says in a concerning tone as to how you were five traffic lanes away from where you needed to be. 

“sorry I thought you said ‘left’. I can make a u-turn?” Deciding in the moment you didn’t want to admit that you heard him correctly but processed the direction wrong, you offered as the traffic light finally turned green. 

“It’s alright we can just take the long way. Don’t worry about a u-turn.”  Not seeming to care at all that it will add an extra 10 minutes to the drive due to the mistake. 

As you continued driving you ended up making another wrong turn, Trevor put his left hand on your thigh and subconsiously rubbed small circles into skin to comfort your growing anxiety, he could feel this odd tension that was built up in the car. “Can you point please?” your voice barely over a whisper as you felt extremely embarrassed all of a sudden and started feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

“Yeah Y/N/N I can do that, we could also switch places. I can drive you the rest of the way if you need it if you're feeling anxious all of a sudden.” Trevor was being really sweet, trying to fix the problem at hand thinking it was just some anxious thoughts and not your brain processing audible information incorrectly. 

“No, pointing is good.” Forcing yourself to look straight ahead because you don’t want to accidentally catch his eyes as he looks at you with a worried look. He squeezes your thigh in a comforting way and drops the topic. The rest of the ride felt quick as he pointed and said the direction you needed to go until you reached his apartment. Finding a parking spot in the garage you parked your car, as soon as you felt your foot on the brake, and your right hand pulled the gear in park, you leaned back automatically and sighed grateful you were done driving. Trevor still had his hand on your thigh, he turned his neck so that his head was also resting on the headrest. 

Trevor patiently waited until you opened your eyes, turning to him with a soft smile. “You ready?” you ask him, as you start to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you grab your purse from the back, your hand on the door handle. His hand that was on your thigh is gone and immediately pulls you by the wrist back into your seat. As he takes his other hand and gently places it on your cheek forcing you to look at him. 

“Can we talk about it?” His voice was steady, calm, confident but soft, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. 

Smiling a little wider now, in a split second you try to decide what you want to do. Do you want to tell a boy who you’ve only been casually talking to and hanging out with a handful of times - one of them being this current moment - about being dyslexic. Although it’s not that big of a deal in retrospect, it’s something that you can never take back once you said the words. Even though it’s something so simple and common no one ever looks at you the same again. Were you ready to tell Trevor, and see his face change permanently or did you want to live in ignorant bliss for a little longer. 

“I’m fine, it’s just when I drive somewhere new I like listening to the GPS and not a person telling me directions, it helps me focus better is all.” sheepishly you admit. 

Ignorant Bliss. That’s the choice you made. 

“Okay well next time, can you tell me that so I don’t have to watch you stress yourself out please?” His hand that was on your wrist, going down to your hand playing with your hand. Taking your hand that he was playing with, fully grasping his you squeeze his hand as a silent yes, and nod your head. He leans over the middle console and quickly peaks your lips as if it was a last minute impulse and he meant the cheek. “Thank you, let's go inside.” 

—-------------------------------

Living in ignorant bliss was great for a few weeks, until you started to actually like Trevor. Talking to a guy for a few months and it not going anywhere vs meeting someone and potentially seeing at least an exclusive relationship with them were two very different things. Knowing that you saw a relationship with him in the future meant it was only a matter of time before he found out that your dyslexic which again isn’t that big of a deal, but the fact that you also lied to him a few weeks ago. Not telling him is one thing, but lying when he asked why you were struggling to drive that day is a completely different act. 

Trying to put off the inevitable you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind. Somehow convincing yourself that if you didn’t think about it, then the problem would disappear he would never find out. I mean when you didn’t know how to spell a word while texting, you just spoke it into your phone. As far as grammar no one really had perfect grammar when texting including Trevor to be perfectly honest he probably didn’t even notice half the time. Plenty of people kept all their devices in dark mode for plenty of reasons, he had no reason to ask, although you did it because it helped your eyes stay focused on the words in front of you, not for the aesthetic. 

Even so, with all of these excuses as to why he wouldn’t notice you failed to remember that certain words you truly can’t pronounce the correct way no matter how hard you try. It all came crashing down tonight when you were at Trevor’s apartment cooking dinner for the both of you. Dinner was almost done at this point, when Trevor came behind you just now re-entering the kitchen after taking an expected call from his little sister. Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on top of your shoulder. 

“Everything okay?” you ask your curiosity getting the best of you, even though you know it’s none of your business. 

“Yeah she’s fine.” Pressing a kiss into where your jawline and neck meet. “smells good.” He compliments your cooking as he teases you one more time with a small nip with his teeth where he just kissed you, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. 

Answering shyly, you let out a “thank you.”

“Anything I can help with?” asking genuinely although you're not sure if it’s to be kind or if it’s because he’s hungry but either way you’ll take it. As he slowly unwraps himself from you, getting ready to help you in any way you need. 

Without looking up from the chicken that you're grilling on the stove, trying to concentrate on the task at hand you answer him. “Yeah actually can you grab out the mellk from the fridge for the mashed potatoes.” Not even thinking twice about what you just said until you heard a chuckle coming from across the kitchen. 

“What babe?” standing in front of a now open fridge, he could have sworn you tried to say milk but botched the word so badly, it couldn’t have possibly been.

“the mellk” finally noticing what you asked for, knowing this is one of the words people can’t help but point out how you butcher it. 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, truly confused now that he heard it twice. 

“M - il - k “ you repeat slowing down your mouth trying to force yourself to pronounce it properly but also not speak too slowly. Hoping that it's noticeable as you force your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the “il” sound.  

A small chuckle leaves Trevor’s lips but it wasn’t a malicious way, it was as if he chuckled because he found it adorable. “Here's the milk baby.” walking back over to you and placing it on the empty counter space next to the bowl of steaming hot cooked potatoes. Taking the chicken off the hot burner you moved to the island to where the potatoes were. 

“Sorry” you mumble as he stands beside you, his hip resting on the side of the island. 

“For what?” His eyebrows frowned, his eyes focused the side of your face the only thing he could see. Focusing on the task at hand, you used the potato masher and mashed the potatoes. Opening the milk and adding a little along with some butter that you set out earlier. 

Feeling the rise of some anxiety in your stomach, hoping that you could procrastinate just a little longer on admitting that you didn’t tell him the whole truth. Deciding if now was the time or if you were gonna dig yourself in a bigger hole by wrapping yourself in a thicker web of tiny white lies. 

Finally turning your head to the side to face him and taking a deep breath. 

For good measure making one more deep breath before you barely utter the words, your nerves getting the better of you. “I lied.” 

Trevor’s face immediately changed from confusion and concern. In an instant it became shocking and almost hurt, that the girl he thought was actually going somewhere a month in, is admitting to lying to him. Not when he told her in the beginning that lying wasn’t something he tolerated after his ex lied to him for months and manipulated him. Not when he just told his little sister not even ten minutes ago on the phone that tonight he was gonna ask you to be his official girlfriend. “What are you talking about?” his voice cracking before he could even get the word out, quickly clearing his throat to cover up his own insecurities about the possible tension that could slowly be felt brewing in his kitchen. 

“Remember a few weeks, when I was driving you to your apartment from the stad-” 

“What the FUCK does that have to do with lying to me? When did you lie to me Y/N” Not only has Trevor never once raised his voice at you in a not joking way, but he’s never cursed at you, and his tone made you close your eyes and flinch at the impact. Immediately, seeing you flinch he sighed his hand going to lightly crease her arm closest to him. “When did you lie?” asking at a much softer tone than moments before. 

“I’m trying to explain.” Trevor could have sworn he felt his chest hurt when he heard you struggling to speak, as if you were trying to get yourself not to cry. “Please let me explain.” 

“Okay” he softly let out, as he squeezed your arm not sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself as he felt the possibility of you slipping through his fingers. 

“A few weeks ago when I drove you home.” finally turning her body fully turning to face him. “I lied, When you asked me what happened. I told you I need the GPS because I get overwhelmed.” Pausing to make sure that Trevor was following along, he nodded along, “I lied, sort of,” your voice picking up in speed with each word you uttered out  “I mean I do get overwhelmed while driving but it’s not because of that it’s not that I” 

“Baby please take a breath you're scaring me” His other arm is going to cup your cheek, even though he was mad before as he heard you fixated on driving him home a few weeks ago. He knew it couldn’t have possibly been any of the terrible ideas that popped into his head, at least Trevor hoped not.

 “I sometimes get my left and right confused.” Looking up trying to gauge his reaction, watching as one of his eyebrows go down, as if to say ‘that’s all.’ 

“Okay. So that was the lie? Everyone gets confused sometimes and makes mistakes baby it’s okay” His famous smile slowly takes over his face. 

“That’s the thing is it isn’t sometimes, it’s kind of a lot when I’m driving when someone is giving me directions without pointing, and there are other things too. I mean they're small but they still affect me almost daily and I just.” 

Deciding to take a breath because if you don’t you will be more likely to trip up your words or stutter. “I’m dyslexic and it’s not really how they describe the movies.” 

His smile dropped a little and you swear it felt as if your heart felt as if it had just dropped a hundred flights down the Empire State building. “Dyslexic. Like you mix up letters when reading?”

“Yeah but it’s more than that.”

“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Why did you say it’s because you get overwhelmed.” 

“Because I do get overwhelmed when I make dumb mistakes like that. Plus, everytime I tell someone they never look at me the same. A lot of times they are shocked, and they also sometimes judge me because how does it not affect me the way the media portrays it? Why do I mispronounce words, why can’t I tell my left and right when someone gives me a direction, why I can’t read maps to save my fucking life but yet if I don’t have my GPS running I’m bound to a wrong turn, why does sometimes my mind decide I either can’t come up with a word at all or I can physically see it but I can’t say it and I can’t spell it because I’m such a bad speller.” 

“Shhh” not trying to cut you off but also trying to get you to breathe. “So you didn’t tell me cause you were scared I would look at you differently? Or judge you when something you can’t control comes out at random times of the day? That’s why you told me to point instead of just saying it because you didn’t wanna tell me in fear?” Not sure his tone is showing remorse for you thinking that at all or hurting that you ever would think of him in that way. 

“Yeah.” you embarrassingly admit.

Trevor spent the rest of the night listening to you and how your brain was different due to your own personal experience with being a dyslexic. The next morning you found him reading an article about the effects of different lighting and how dark mode was the best for dyslexics and certain fonts were better than others. It made you chuckle as you told him you knew and that’s why your phone was permanently in dark mode.  That day, he changed all the settings on his tv’s in his entire apartment for dark mode, even all of his own personal devices. Finding it adorable that he went on a tangent when he found out certain apps don’t support dark mode and how he said it was discriminating. Finding it harder and harder for yourself to hide your soft smile as you watched him continue his rant, your heart swelling at how passionate he sounded. 

“I really like you, you know.” you admitted when he finally stopped complaining about how Mirosoft finally started supporting dark mode it was still ‘white paper’ on black ink so they really missed the whole point. 

“Oh yeah.” as he grabs you, pulling you towards him on the couch, tangling your legs with his. 

“Yup” popping the p for emphasis.

“I really like you too. Actually I was gonna ask you.. Wanna make this official and let me call you mine.” The blush was obvious on your face, immediately turning a light red shade, nodding your head he pulled you into a soft kiss. 

—---------------------------------------------

A few weeks later you were out to dinner with a few close friends and Trevor. Currently trying to tell a story about one of your new coworkers and how you didn’t like him but mid sentence you froze. Trevor had yet to see you freeze because the word you planned to say completely escaped you. Of course this wasn’t new to your friends as they saw the familiar signs, the way in which you paused, your lips pursed in a questioning way, your hand coming up and shaking knowing it was on the tip of your tongue and you just couldn’t think of it or couldn’t pronounce it. 

What your friends weren’t used to was seeing Trevor respond to it. His response to you struggling made all of them share a glance in approval of his small action. He took your shaking hand and slipped it into his own. Immediately your small flustered expression on your face turns to him. Your friends couldn’t hear what you were saying between yourselves if you were even talking at all, but they could see the care in Trevors eyes and how your frustration seemed to melt away.

“Hi” he whispers only for you to hear after a couple seconds pass. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Hi” 

“What are you trying to say?” repeating the same sentence that he asked you weeks ago when you asked him to get the milk out the fridge. 

“I can’t think of it.” a sigh leaving your lips. 

“Describe it.” His forehead resting on yours as you look into his eyes. 

“You know, like a red flag.” 

“Like in dating? So a slang term?” 

“I think.” Pausing for a few seconds for your brian to catch up. “But I know it’s not called a red flag, but it’s like it, I think, like when someone does something and immediately you're like ew.” 

“An ick?” he softly suggests. Immediately your mouth forms into an o-shape in shock, making his mouth twitch into the slightest smile. Kissing his check quickly and whispering a quick ‘thanks’ and turning back to your friends. 

“Okay so like this new dude thinks he can come in and just boss all me and my other co-workers around. That’s not even the worst part like not only is he lowkey sexist, he literally only wears highwaters, immediate ick…” Trevor sat there half listening to your story with a huge smile on his face, hand on your thigh drawing patterns subconsciously as he sipped on his drink. He loves listening to you talk, how you get lost in telling stories and he’s happy he was able to help you instead of you pushing it to the side like you did all those months ago. 

That’s how it is from that night on, anytime you text him and he can’t understand it, or you can’t think of a word, or butcher the pronunciation; he will simply turn to you and ask “What are you trying to say?” 

[waffledforbreakfast]

Kiss Kiss - [MUTI! BLLK X F!READER]

Staring: Rin, Shidou, Sae, Niko, Kaiser, Ness, Otoya, Karasu, Reo

[ BLLK Scenario Masterlist ]

TW: heavy ooc (I MEAN HEAVY. forgive me, it gets a bit better later chapts i swear), bad grammar, bad spelling, bad formatting, etc.

Their reaction to a kiss on the cheek

>Rin

Rin is NOT used to physical affection

His eyes widen and he just STARES with the tiniest bit of blush

“I-... what was that for…”

He needs to process what just happened (bro is shocketh)

Once he does, he'll pull you in for a hug and ask for another one while avoiding eye contact 

>Shidou

Bro's jaw DROPS

Shidou squeals in excitement, blushing and everything 

then he tackles you immediately after

Literally won't let you go till you give him another one. And another… you get the point 

>Sae

Does that thing when the blink a lot trying to process

Looks at you, then down at himself, then back at you

Will grab you by your shoulders “I want you to bare my children” A/N: I'm just kidding lol

He looks so embarrassed, and just stares at you, trying to be mad “What was that for… do it again.”

>Niko

This man is a blushing stuttering MESS

He will bury his face in his hands/arms, but we all know he's smiling ;)

“I-Wha.. w-wait… why-huh??”

Will whisper ask for another :3

>Kaiser

The initial shock lasts for around 2 seconds because he pulls you in by the chin grinning

“Wow Meine Liebe, didn't know you were so bold~”

Total ego boost

“Pussy. Go for the lips next time.”

Then he’ll do it himself 

“Hm. did you use chapstick? Tastes good”

>Ness

His entire face is so shocked/flustered

“I-ahdifuauhweilufgaf;iesuddffba”

Silently screaming and mentally rolling on the floor

Completely forgets you're still there watching him

Stutters so much, can't get any words out

Will rant to Kaiser about it later

“Then guess what- they KISSED me >////<. They kissed ME- AESJBWJSJBSHAJ”

>Otoya

Otoya was not that surprised (I mean, what do you expect ;v;)

“Oh~? I bet I could do better-” wink wink

He'll unintentionally stay up thinking about it tho (I'm delusional guys)

“That wasn’t anything special… I mean, i’ve kissed better girls… right?? AHHHH WHY WAS THAT MY BEST KISS AUGHHH” he threw his pillow across the room

Then proceed to sleep with the pillow imagining it was you, while telling himself he wasn’t

>Karasu

Takes a few seconds to process

“... So, that's how that feels huh?... I like it”

Will try to play it off cool, but man's blushing

He can’t stop thinking of you, even Otoya notices

“Hey bro, you alright? You’ve been spacing out a lot…” 

“Yea I’m fine, Otoya…nothing special” Karasu would try to shug it off

“Hmm. Are you in love?” Otoya teased

“What-NO?” He tried to play it off, he couldn’t…

The white haired boy would just laugh “Cmon, I’ve been there, being in love and all that… I get what you’re going through! If you even need any rizz tips, hit me up”

Karasu scoffed “Please, like you know how to treat a girl well,I would never do anything like that to them…”

“SO YOU DO LIKE SOMEONE!”

>Reo

The biggest look of suprise on his face, takes him a few seconds to process

Takes out a handful of $100 bills and slams it into your chest while trying to cover up his face without saying anything

Will be so distracted the rest of the day, even Nagi notices

“Nagi, I'm being normal right? So normal. This is normal. EVERYTHING IS NORMAL.”

“Reo, it's 11pm. They kissed you hours ago, you are not normal.”

“If I asked them for another one, do you think they'll be okay with it??”

“Go to sleep, Reo.”