#I know how annoying it is that my pinned post is this long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ma1dita · 4 months

Text

bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader fanfic #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

1K notes · View notes

obliviouscxnt · 5 months

Text

Control Azriel x Reader

a/n: I'm so lost, i don't know what I'm doing. Still learning how to use tumblr but in the meantime, welcome to the first fic i feel like posting.

synopsis: feyre's growing curiosity about you sparks some personal questions.

Warnings: mentioned SA, fluff, hints of sexual activities

pt.2 | pt.3

One of the first friends Feyre made in the Night Court was you. You reminded her of the twin wraiths in a way. Never saying much, if anything at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked you so much.

You didn’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s presence. Feyre had as much fun sitting in silence with you as she did on a night out with Mor.

But as time passed, as Feyre became a constant in the Night Court, she had grown curious. She wanted to know more about you like she did the others.

So she started asking you questions, and to her surprise, you would answer her. Your answers weren’t clipped, or vague. You never sounded annoyed with her, you were completely open and honest with her.

“How long have you known everyone?” Feyre had asked while you gently played with her hair, her scalp tingling at your touch.

You thought about it for a moment. “Over two hundred years now.”

She tilts her head, so apart from her you were the newest member of the inner circle. “How did you meet?” She asks, shivering as the tingles travel down her spine.

You start braiding a few small strands from the front of her face as you speak. “My kind are far different from other Fae.” Feyre practically perks up at the words. She knew you weren’t high fae but she never bothered saying anything about it, she barely even noticed it most of the time not nearly enough to warrant a discussion. “They hail from no court, and bow to no lord, not even the Mother is with their thoughts.”

Feyre tried to imagine what that would be like, how they would act, what traditions they’d carry. She thought of your features, the ones that stood out among other high fae. Your ears didn’t point, your nails were like claws, and your teeth bore long sharp canines on both the top and bottom of your mouth, but the features that stood out the most were the ones you kept hidden.

Feyre saw them once, your wings. The first time she met you. Like they were just there for a formal introduction. They were big, beautiful, and intricate. They looked like moth wings, and fluttered like them too. Opening and closing slowly when you were lax.

Immediately when Feyre saw them, she felt like painting again, she could barely keep her eyes off them, barely keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch them. Maybe that was the reason for their absence in the next visit; all that remained of the glorious appendages was precise ink that lined the whole of your back, a tattoo of folded wings.

From the way they folded, they almost formed a natural cape. She wondered how far your tattoo ran, the extravagant fabrics of the dresses you wore only showed so much.

She pictured a whole colony of people that looked like you and immediately felt like painting again.

“It’s why nobody can do anything about their backward ways, they listen to nobody but themselves. Believe no one but themselves.” All preconceived thoughts of your people turn sour with your words.

“The things they’ve done, they still do…” You release a shaky breath as you finish the small braids and set them aside.

Feyre turns to look at you when your delicate hands part with her hair. She finds you sorting through a box of hair ornaments, but your eyes are clouded. Not even the most glorious of diamonds could shine through that fog. “You don’t have to...“

You blink out of your daze and wave her off as you pull out a few gem-encrusted pins and show them to her. Waiting for her to give you a nod of approval before pulling out a stunning bejeweled silver comb and repeating the same process. Your collection was truly marvelous.

“When I was saved, it was my first Flowering Night.” You spoke the words with barely concealed bitterness. “A night where all mature unpaired females are sent into the woods for any participating males to hunt down and take as they please.”

You tuck back the small braids with the sparkling pins. Feyre listened as you continued, she wanted to say something but what would she say?

“No one could run very far from our community, the woods of the Middle hold no mercy. It was either hide and hope you make it till dawn without being spotted by a male. Or die to the other horrid creatures that live in those woods.”

Feyre’s heart ached for you, her sorrow a tangible thing able to be smelt in the air. And you squeezed her shoulder, you comforted her. Her sorrow only increased. You never deserved any of it.

“I chose the latter.” You carefully place the comb into her hair, finding it in yourself to smile at the final product. You still fiddle with a few strands until you feel pleased. “A close encounter with death led to the discovery of my gift,”

Dreamwalker, Rhys had called you. An ability so rare even Helion’s exquisite library had very little information on it.

Feyre loosely understood that you could enter another person's dream. Could manipulate it as you wish, to serenity or to a blood-curdling nightmare. But what made you so powerful, what made you such a valuable asset to the Night Court was your ability to bring dreams to life. All manner of dreams.

However, your ability was sparsely used for court matters, and only necessary people knew of it. You were their trump card. Something nobody would see coming.

Feyre would never forget the time you had a nightmare, sending half the court in preparation for battle. She’d also never forget the way Azriel had fought off the nightmare incarnate to get to you. How he charged forward without an ounce of hesitation. While Rhys had stood protectively in front of Feyre, and Cassian’s siphons flared from beside her, providing a shield around them.

Feyre had realized then that Azriel would go to hell and back for you.

Feyre turns to face you, to look you in your enchanting eyes now that you are finished playing with her hair. “I was barely a woman, I didn’t know the first thing about defending myself. I didn’t know what this gift was.” She watched you raise a hand, small stars forming and trailing your fingers, blinking and shimmering as you played with them. “What good is a gift this powerful if you don’t know what to do with it? It’s as good as a broken blade.”

Feyre’s breath leaves her body when you pull down the shoulder of your elegant emerald gown, revealing a long jagged scar running diagonally across your chest. The skin puffed up from how deep the gash was. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for Azriel.”

The high fae’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly.

“He heard me screaming. And he came for me.” You pull the shoulder back up and smile. Actually, smile. Feyre had never known someone like you, someone able to flip such a horrid memory around. Someone so able to pick out the good amongst the bad. “It wasn’t until a century later that I finally accepted his invitation to the Night Court and met everyone else.”

Feyre found herself grabbing your hand and squeezing. So grateful you had accepted his invitation.

You squeeze back.

“You’re so strong.” Feyre says, furrowing her brows when you laugh like she had told a joke.

“It wasn’t strength that led me here, Feyre.” You tell her. Once again she wanted to paint you, but she felt like she wouldn’t be able to do you justice. “It was fate.”

A knock sounds at the door.

“Come in.” Feyre calls and you both look to the opening door. Two incredibly attractive Illyrian men stand at the doorway.

Rhys smiles at the sight of you two, eyes raking over the hairstyle you’d given Feyre. “You look lovely, Feyre darling.” Her face heats as you smile in triumph.

“Say goodnight.” Comes Azriel’s voice in that tone he only used on you.

You obey his command without a second thought, giving Feyre a light hug and giving Rhys a small bow before scurrying toward Azriel’s waiting arm.

You fall into step with him as his hand lands on your lower back. But before the two of you could disappear you tug on his shirt, prompting him to stop only long enough for you to turn back toward Feyre and say a final goodnight. “Dream well Feyre!” Then he continued leading you away to your shared chambers.

The mated pair watch you two travel away. Rhys with a look of content for you and his brother. Feyre with a new curiosity.

She couldn’t help but be curious about the dynamic you and Azriel had. The way that dynamic bled into the interactions you had with your friends. How you always asked for permission before doing something and always jumped up whenever anyone asked you to do something. Rhys seemed to catch on to that curiosity.

He decided to save you the embarrassment of Feyre asking you herself. He had enough of an understanding of you to know when something would make you uncomfortable, no matter how much you said otherwise.

You’d always answer any questions asked of you openly and honestly, whether you wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons many were at first against your visits with Feyre, himself included. The newly turned fae was far too oblivious to your situation to recognize when she was taking advantage of your obedience. But you assured Rhysand repeatedly that Feyre never bothered you with her questions. That you enjoyed her presence just as much as she, hopefully, enjoyed yours.

Much to everyone’s delight, Feyre regarded you with gentleness and awe from the very start. It was the effect you had on people. It was the reason Azriel didn’t put up a fight about leaving your visits unsupervised.

“[name] was raised by cruel people, they taught her that in a relationship the male's word is law. Her people think a female is expected to give up any and all control to her male. It’s one of the few things she never was able to condition herself out of, Azriel helps her by providing that control she needs.”

Feyre thinks about that, face heating at the images it created. She wondered what that would be like, to surrender herself completely. “So if he told her to jump off the nearest bridge…?”

“She’d do it, with zero hesitation.”

Rhys smirks, knowing glint in his eyes as his gaze runs over the blush that coated her face.

“But he’d never ask something like that of her. He knows her inside out, knows when something is too much or not enough.” He steps closer to her, delighting in the way her breathing picks up. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think your interest in this topic was more than innocent curiosity.”

“Well, do you?” Feyre asks, making his eyes narrow. “Know any better?”

Rhys’s gaze becomes dark. “Nope.”

****

“Did you enjoy your time with Feyre?” You sigh at his voice, the comfort it brings you. You find yourself leaning into him, and he allows it.

“It was nice.” You say truly. It felt like it was easier to breathe now that Feyre had more of an understanding. “She asked about how we met.”

The hand on your back pulls you closer to him as if he were remembering that day. Remembering what you looked like as that hideous creature held you down, slicing into you. The way you flinched away from him after he’d slayed the creature. The sheer dress that you wore, If it could even be called that. He could still picture everything so vividly.

How you eventually submitted to him, and how that made him sick. How he carried you out of the Middle and into the lands of the Night Court, never taking you into the cities. How for the next century after that he would visit you at the little private cabin only he and his brothers knew about, how he took care of you, and how he grew to love you. How you grew to love him in return.

He shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind as he opens the door to your shared chambers, walking you inside before shutting the door behind you.

His hands move to your shoulders while he guides you to sit on the edge of the large bed, big enough to fit at least three winged beings. Hands brushing down your body as he kneels before you, settling on your ankle. He brings your foot up and rests it on his thigh before slowly unraveling the straps of your heel. Once finished he continued with the right heel, his touch nothing but confident from years and years of practice.

A hand pats your thigh, letting you know he’s finished. Your eyes trail him as he heads toward the bathroom, you’d be happy to just look at him for the rest of your immortal life.

You help Azriel, though he had no problem doing it for you, by taking off your jewelry one by one, setting each extravagant piece on the nightstand. By the time you're done Azriel’s waiting for you next to a full bath.

“Come.” He beckons from beside the large clawfoot tub. Hand outstretched and waiting for you.

You saunter toward him, sighing as you let your brain just rest. Let him do everything for you.

His hands are strong, and gentle, and secure all in one as they guide you out of your gown, his clothes following not long after. You sigh as he brings you into the tub. Positioning you so you sat between his legs, back to his front.

Your eyelids slowly fall shut, coaxed by his soothing touch. Feeling nothing but content when he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, a gentle kiss pressed against your temple.

You were soon in a state of barely there, just teetering on the side of sleep but awake enough to move when he told you to.

“Lean forward.”

His hands rub up and down your back, cleaning and massaging the skin there. You shudder in pleasure and he hums soothingly. Like cooing at a pet. You straighten up a bit when he taps the marked skin a few times, moving forward just enough for your wings to slowly peel away from your back. What was once ink on your skin, now real moving wings.

“Spread.” And you do so, wings unfolding and stretching out completely.

You shiver as his hands brush against them, making them twitch both away and toward him. As if they couldn’t decide whether the feeling it brought you was too much or not enough.

As always Azriel handled them with utmost care, humming when small noises of pleasure escaped you. When he was finished he tapped your shoulder to let you know, but you were too tired to summon the magic needed to conceal them.

Though, not tired enough to remember it was his turn.

Slowly with lethargic movements, you turn to face him. Wings folding up again, forming a natural cape on your back. “Can I-“ You begin but catch yourself before you can finish. His narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile. Happy he no longer had to remind you of such a simple fact.

Don’t ask to touch what is yours.

So instead you reach for the soap in his hands and begin to wash him. Taking satisfaction in the way his wound-up muscles, tense from hours of work, relaxed under your touch. The way his hands rested on your hips, squeezing every now and then appreciatively. The hums that left his mouth, no longer with the intent to soothe you but to let you know how pleased you made him.

Your touches became increasingly distracted, sleep slowly leaving your system as your mind filled with nothing but him.

He smirks, a mix of amusement and attraction. Allowing his own touches to become less innocent. His hands move to wrap around your wrists, dragging your hands down, down, and down his body. Soap long ago discarded.

“Touch me.” He commands.

And nothing could keep you from satisfying him.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron

1K notes · View notes

hana-no-seiiki · 2 months

Note

Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

534 notes · View notes

nyaagolor · 5 months

Note

How do you rank the prosecutors on order of homophobia

forgot about this in my drafts for literally months oops. Anyway. Finished now!!!!

So I made this post a while ago that has some of the prosecutors and antagonists, but if you want a ranking of EVERY prosecutor (not including DGS bc i haven't finished yet) huzzah!!

Simon Blackquill: Not actually homophobic but he gets points docked for siccing Taka (known homophobe) at Klavier (known bisexual) for stealing his pretzels from the office pantry that one time. 3/10

Blaise Debeste: I think he's gay but he made me look at that ugly ass beard for far too long and I consider that disrespectful. out of principle? 8/10

Sebastian Debeste: Just look at him. 0/10

Miles Edgeworth: Bratworth was simultaneously gay, homophobic, and a misogynist, and eventually develops into a man who is only like 1.5 of those things. he's getting better. 5/10

Byrne Faraday: I don't really think he cares much about gay people he's busy being a single father and stealing shit. For the apathy? 2/10

Klavier Gavin: He's extremely gay and does a lot of work for the gay community but making Ema Skye deal with him is explicitly lesbophobic so 4/10

Godot: He has a lovely wife but whatever he was doing with Ron DeLite was probably not osha-compliant. I don't know what that means for his sexuality or stance on gay people and neither does he. ?/10

Ga'ran: I think she has a lot of other problems she should deal with first but considered she's bigoted to defense attorneys I don't think her being homophobic would be that out of pocket. Not sure I want to find out. 7/10

Neil Marshall: Have you ever been a gay bar? This guy would do NUMBERS. Also, real cowboys support gay rights. 0/10

Gaspen Payne: Being homophobic is actually why he got fired by the prosecutor's office and Winston is really fucking embarrassed about it. 10/10

Winston Payne: You'd think he'd be homophobic but you can't work for the Japanifornia Prosecutor's Office and hate gay people or you would actually go insane. He's like that one suburban guy who uses terms from the 60s but has the spirit. However, his ally lapel pin is really ugly so 3/10

Jaques Portman: He was calling Edgeworth slurs even before realizing he was gay. 9/10

Lana Skye: Dated Mia in college but refused to explain that to Ema because she has a lot of internalized homophobia and other weird issues of self. Repressed yuri personified. 1/10

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: He supports gay people but gets all his talking points from the internet so even though he's supportive he's also incredibly fucking annoying about it and no one wants to invite him to brunch because of it. Stop using twitter for fact-checking you jackass. 2/10

Franziska Von Karma: Despite the fact that her lesbianism is so strong it borders on misandry, I think she has a lot of internalized homophobia so she spends the first 25 years of her life being a judgmental little shit. She'll get better dw about it. I believe she can bring that number down with time. 6/10

Manfred Von Karma: I think when he finds out Edgeworth is gay he starts going to gay bars and picking up dudes just to show Edgeworth he has way more rizz than him. Considering how people in my notes have told me on numerous occasions how much they want him carnally, I think he could actually pull it off. In that respect I think he's done a lot for the gay community. It ends up cancelling out somewhat because I think he'd be kind of an ass about it. 4/10

641 notes · View notes

honey-milk-depresso · 4 months

Note

hello love, i adore your work.

could i get something with the batboys with a spider woman reader?

💜💜

I’m making them spiderperson cuz gotta stay GN for everyone to self insert themselves 🩷

BUT YEAHHDHWIAHFOAJDKSJX MORE BATFAM REQUESTS >:)))

Requests open until 1 Feb (GMT 8+)! Please read the rules on my pinned post (provided the navi post link to go to rules). Thank you!🩷🩷

***S/o is above 18, which means characters below are also aged up!

Batbros with a Spider-S/o

Dick Grayson

He loves you! You manoeuvre in the air and swing about just like him! Just that you got webs, cool!

Definitely joins you in hanging upside down, also loving to compete with you (lovingly) to see who can jump the farthest, or who can do the most bomb-tastic somersault with you and you guys have so much fun during patrol it’s not even patrol anymore.

Beating bad guys in the most dramatic, acrobatic way possible is definitely something Bruce and the rest of the brothers all sigh collectively because you two can be pretty chaotic.

But whatever, you two have so much fun jumping around.

Has taken you out on dates as Nightwing and your spider-sona, because even people around the city thinks you two are a match made in heaven. I imagined a pizza guy giving them a box and saying for them to have fun while swinging around with Dick and having pizza in between your teeth while you race to see who can reach the far end of a street whilst swinging and stunting about.

Overall, you two make a loveable couple of acrobats. <3

Jason Todd

He thought you were annoying at first, but even he can’t deny you make his day (most of the time).

He feels a bit irritated yet amused whenever you hang upside down and playfully greet him or joke with him while on patrol, sometimes in secret which scares the shit out of him when you pop out of no where and he starts cussing before letting out a long, exasperated sigh when he looks at you laughing to yourself. Damn spider…

But even so, he can’t help but dote on you, even if you can be an annoying ball of energy sometimes. He just can’t help but let you jump around him with your spiderwebs all over the house when you try to take something from afar, using the webs to pull it towards you. Although… you are a bit bashful and guilty for keeping his tidy room messy with webs everywhere that you help clean up which he appreciates.

On patrols, you’re usually faster than him and sometimes he complains so you just shut him up by scooping him in his arms and holding him by the waist with one hand before web-slinging your way to the location where the criminal gang is as he huffed. From afar at times, it looks like a grown ass man being baby carried or held like a big dog by some spider person across the high buildings, which he gets a little flustered over.

Regardless, Jason still loves you. Just don’t shoot the webs everywhere- <3

Tim Drake

He’s fascinated by you, how your webs work and how you can stick on walls with just your fingertips.

Tim might ask a lot of questions about your anatomy and what your spider body can do which sometimes annoy you but he’s just so curious he can’t help it. Genuinely.

Another one who you scare the shit out of with you surprising him by hanging upside down and popping your head down to face his out of no where, but he’s not like Jason who reacts very… dramatically, he’ll just recover from shock to contort into a pout and maybe gently flick your forehead to tell you to knock it off, although he knows you won’t.

Might be a sap for that upside down kiss where you kiss him upside down and all because of course he would be-

Tim loves asking you to use your web fluid for practically everything now. “Hey, s/o? Could you use your web fluid to stick this circuit board in here?” “S/o could you grab the remote with your web? Pleaseeeee?” “S/o, I kinda need your web fluid to close up the hole in my pants-” sometimes you gotta tell him that’s not gonna work sometimes, and those pants will look weird if you do that-

Overall, Tim loves his whacky, loveable spider s/o. <3

Damian Wayne

Also like Jason, he found you annoying. But this guy is hard in denial before he admits he even likes you.

Damian, at first, keep scowling at how annoying you can be with your web-slinging for fun and not for patrol, and getting web strings all over his suit after patrol from an intense fight against the criminal gang you two were assigned to take down. Now, he still scowls but with a blush and his heart skipping a beat because he can’t deny how cute you are even if you’re an annoying lil shi- (or maybe you ain’t little but you get the point).

Damian will tolerate you swinging about, although he isn’t scared when you hang upside down to spook him a bit because you literally can’t, his god-like sense of instincts would immediately pick up on you without even needing to turn to face you. Sometimes you joke with him that he has spidey-senses to which he rolls his eyes casually.

He won’t say it out loud, but he thinks you’re a pretty impressive fighter and you kinda remind him of Dick but you’re still unique. He just make sure your web fluids don’t go all over the place that you make a mess of the evidence for the police.

Overall, a tsundere for his spider s/o. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

644 notes · View notes

msfantasy-comics · 4 months

Text

The Little Three

Platonic!Damian Wayne x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic!Jon Kent

Summary: A short story on “really want to see just a cute little platonic relationship with a reader who’s wonder woman’s daughter with damian wayne and jon kent. like a mini trinity goofing around while bruce, clark and diana are like “oh hell 😐”

A/n: Inspired by this post

Masterlist - Tip Jar

“Obviously Jon will be the best leader.” Y/n declares, finger outright pointing towards the half kryptonian. Damian’s snorts at such a blasphemous proclamation.

“That is ridiculous, I am obviously the best suited to be a leader. If you two went on a mission by yourselves you would not even develop a sound strategy. Jon would come up with a half-baked plan which will quickly crumble, while you would just go to the location and wreck havoc until you win.” Damian accuses, a signature bat frown now adorning his features.

Y/n just rolls her eyes with a groan. “It’s part of my strategy to overwhelm the enemy… it always works.” Which only grates on Damian’s nerves.

“You are only proving my point further. It is reckless and stupid. You cannot be successful by being a brute.” A high pitched gasp escapes, Y/n’s hands now slamming down onto the table.

“Shut up Damian! Just because you don’t like my battle strategy, doesn’t mean you’re better.” Smirking he crosses his arms over his chest, feet now kicked up on top of the hologram table.

“I am better than you, because I am smarter, stronger and better trained than you.” Jon slouches further back into his seat, nervousness creeping up his spin at the familiar dispute.

“Guys… let’s just calm down -“

“Oh shut up you annoying little rat! How about a game of capture the flag to prove who should be the teams leader. Whoever captures the flag wins!” Y/n asserts, fist outstretched waiting for Jon and Damian to fist bump in agreement.

“You are on Little Wonder.” Damian stretches his fist out, bumping the young wonders knuckles with his own. Y/n only clenches her jaw in irritation.

“Don’t call me that, Shorty!”

“Not all of us are born with Amazonian genetics freak!” Y/n and Damian are just about pressing noses, now playing an unspoken game of chicken.

Jon continues to stand behind them pinching the bridge of his nose. The soft ticks and beeps sounding off from the technology around them. The Justice watchtower now shifting and readjusting before settling back to a set position. “Guys… I’m not encouraging this I’m out.” Jon crosses his arms, launching himself backwards into the leather seat again, he turns his attention back to the holographic table, checking for his Dad’s location and only hoping that the pin is moving back towards the tower. Y/n and Damian only meet eyes with a knowing smirk.

“Jon’s the flag?” Y/n asks only getting a small nod from Damian.

“On your mark.” Damian says which only makes Jon’s eye bulge.

“Guys - stop! I said I didn’t want to be part of your games!” The two devils only smile as if not hearing his refusal.

“Get set.” Y/n says, the two now shifting their weight to the balls of their heels. Jon growls twisting and taking off in a quick dash.

“Go!” Damian and Y/n both shout taking off at inhuman speeds, eager to catch their human(?) flag.

Damian pulls out his bat gun, launching a wire and hook into the long wall in an attempt to quick zip line towards Jon only for Y/n to grab the wire and snap it with her bare hands.

“Leave me alone!” Jon shouts, the sonic sound of his shout vibrating the objects around him.

“You’re mine!” Y/n springs out, grabbing the corner of Jon’s jacket only for Jon to step away launching Y/n head first into the large computers and screens with a loud crack. The screens glass sprays across the floor, the Amazonian only jumps up and bounds towards Jon without a second to spare.

“Launch emergency Kryptonite!” Damian shouts into his suit mic now throwing lethal batarangs and recalling the projectiles. Jon only evading the objects by mere millimeters.

The projectiles where only continuously puncturing the steel walls and solid objects around. Sparks fly as Damian hits an electric reserve.

The red emergency lights now blaring a warning.

But the three pay no mind to the danger alarm, Y/n and Damian too absorbed in capturing their objective. Jon too distracted to not getting injured.

————

“Code Red, Watchtower is under attack.” An AI Voice announces into the earpieces of the Justice team. “Permission to counter attack the enemy by any means necessary?”

“The kids!” Superman exclaims, Batman redirecting the route of the Batship.

“Permission denied.” Batman grumbles into his mic. Worry now coating the features of Clark.

“What foe could be attacking the tower right now?” Diana voices, hoping that the answer will relieve some distress. Batman only grumbles a reply.

“Probably the kids.”

————-

Arriving to the tower the big three stand at the teleport entry, eyeing the mass damage that has occurred on the tower in the short moments they were gone. All of the screens are cracked and ruin, the holographic projector now laying on the floor in a broke heap. Sparks flying away from live wires.

“I caught him first!” Damian shouts, yanking Jon towards him.

“What are you stupid?! I caught him first!” Y/n shouts yanking Jon into her grasp. Jumping up she locks her legs around his torso, arms wrapping firmly around Jon’s neck in a lock. “You can claim him if you wretch my dead body off of him.”

“Fine.” Damian says coldly, taking a step back and launching himself onto the two making them tumble over with a loud thud. Yelps and grasps coming from the three now strewn a-crossed the floor. Jon now trapped between his two friends, thrashing limbs.

“What is going on here?” Diana yells making Y/n instantly release her grip and scrambling to get up only to slam into the floor as Damian’s grip is still wrapped around her ankle. The three slowly look up at their parents faces who are angry to say the least. “How could you let this happen.”

Y/n kicks her foot at Damian, before finally standing up, Y/n slouches under the angry gaze of her mother. “We couldn’t decide on a leader so we made it a competition of capture the flag… Jon’s the flag.” Diana’s eye twitched at the absurdity of your words. The watch tower was destroyed because their super kids decided to settle an argument with ‘Capture the Flag.’

“And added inflicted millions of dollars in damages in the process. You’re all in big trouble.” Clark reprimands, his usual friendly demeanour now replaced with stern anger.

“But Dad! I didn’t even want to be part of this stupid game!” Jon whines which only makes Y/n and Damian shoot Jon a silent deathly look.

“A good leader would’ve prevented a dispute in their team.” Clark reprimands Jon which only makes him bow his head in shame.

“You’re all clearly not ready for a serious role in the hero’s league if you plan of settling disputes with childish games and inflicting mass damage in the process - Clark, Diana and I will re-evaluate your readiness. Until then, the Little Three team is banned from missions.”

“What?! This is so unfair!” Y/n exclaims in exasperation. The hero’s team banned before they even got started. They hadn’t even picked a leader for crying out loud.

“What is unfair is that Jon, Damian and yourself have destroyed perfectly good resources all for a game.” Clark reprimands. “Jon your grounded, you will be staying home for the rest of the summer completing all farm chores including mine.” Jon groans at his punishment.

It was Bruce’s turn to supply Damian a punishment. “No vigilante work until you move stocks to cover the cost of your handiwork.” Damian stands stick straight, accepting his punishment without resistance.

“Yes father.”

Diana leans over, her brows knitting together in irritation. “Listen here missy!” Before Diana could utter another word, Y/n’s hands reach out to her mothers face, pressing her fingers into her mothers pinched brows, as if making Diana not frown would resolve her anger. Y/n begins to jut her lip out and stare up at her mother with big shining eyes.

“I’m sorry Mama, please don’t be mad.” Her soft and delicate voice pulling at Diana’s heartstrings.

“…it’s okay baby…” Diana folds instantly to her adorable daughter. “Just don’t do it again.” She coos giving her precious girl a big kiss on the cheek. Y/n only looks at her fellow mates with the cheekiest of grins.

The two boys stare in disbelief as Y/n escape parental punishment, especially as she is the instigator of the incident. Jon decides to take the plunge. “Dad-“

“Don’t even try it son.”

956 notes · View notes

dancingbirdie · 7 months

Text

I Promised You (Chapter 2)

Here it is! The second/final part to this fic request I received. I worked SO hard on this, and I'm super proud of how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy!

I'm thinking about doing a possible epilogue with a dash of smut and domestic bliss but it's just a thought at this point. Let me know if you'd be interested in something like that!

Rating: G

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, FLUFF, angst, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.

***

The three of you agreed it would be best to wait until the next morning before you attempted the spell. It irked you, having to wait yet another night, but you recognized the soundness in the logic. A good night’s rest and complete sobriety were more prudent, especially attempting something as audacious as this.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to rest without the aid of a sleep potion, so you downed a bottle in one swallow before forcing yourself to crawl into bed. Not long after, Astarion joined you in the four-poster you shared, lying on his back and staring vaguely at the canopied silks above you. You turned on your side toward him, trying to gauge his expression.

“If it doesn’t work —” he began, breaking the silence.

“It will,” you affirmed in an ironclad tone.

Astarion nodded absently, his train of thought undeterred.

“But if it doesn’t… I want you to know that it won’t be the end of the world,” he finished, turning his head to look at you.

You stared at him dubiously, quirking a brow.

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I know you. I know how hard you push yourself. And I know that if this somehow doesn’t work, you’re going to blame yourself for it. If you’re even still here to know if it doesn’t work. Gods,” he grimaced, turning to stare up at the ceiling again. “I still can’t believe the two of you have convinced me of this.”

“I appreciate your assurances, darling, but they’re not needed. I know this is going to work… I can feel it in my bones,” you smiled, reaching for his hand over the covers. Your fingers intertwined easily. He lifted them to plant a kiss on each knuckle.

“Nevertheless, I wanted it known. I don’t want you crawling on your hands and knees begging for forgiveness if it fails. The very idea that you’re even willing to try this for me is more than enough.”

“I love you,” you murmured, squeezing his hand. Your eyelids began to droop. You could feel the beginnings of the sleep potion taking effect.

“And I love you, my darling,” Astarion returned, sidling closer and wrapping you in his arms.

You fell asleep to the sensation of him kissing the crown of your head.

***

You roused from sleep to the chiming of the first morning bells, your senses on high alert.

It was morning. It was time.

You peered over your shoulder to see Astarion still lying beside you, his eyes closed in meditation. You reached a hand behind you to poke him, gently, in the side.

He scoffed but kept his eyes closed. “Keep those jabby little fingers to yourself, pup.”

“Just seeing how alert you are” you teased.

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. I’m perfectly aware of my surroundings,” he quipped.

“Good, good… That means you’ll be expecting this!” you laughed as, all at once, you half-jumped, half-clambered on top of him, pinning him to the bed.

He hadn’t been expecting it, if his annoyed cries of outrage were anything to go by.

“Unhand me, you little beast,” he cried as he attempted to pin your arms to your sides. “Have you gone completely mad?”

You giggled as he wrestled you into compliance, grinning mischievously as you sat atop him.

Seeing your expression, he huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Honestly,” he chided. “Can’t you ever just behave?”

“Where would the fun be in that?” you smirked, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours.

He squawked in surprise at your suddenness before leaning in to kiss you deeper.

After a few moments of heated embrace, you broke from the kiss, both of your breathing a bit ragged.

“Gale will be here soon,” you murmured. “We best get dressed.”

“Bah. Don’t mention him when I’ve got you straddling my lap like this,” Astarion grumbled.

You laughed but wiggled your way off of him anyway. He growled his disapproval.

“It’s almost time,” you whispered excitedly, darting across the bedroom to fish some clothes out of the dresser.

Astarion turned to recline on his side, head propped up in one hand, watching you from his vantage point on the bed. Piddling about the room as you were, you failed to notice the look of sincere worry splayed across his features.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Almost time.”

***

Gale arrived shortly after the two of you had dressed and descended the stairs to wait in the den. Per usual, all the curtains in the cottage were closed, preventing any sunlight from creeping into the rooms. Or any prying eyes from peering in. Not being blessed with dark vision as you and Astarion were, Gale muttered a string of curses as he stumbled into an overgrown houseplant you had been nursing, nearly invisible in the gloom. Astarion suppressed a laugh while you murmured a series of apologies and began moving hurriedly about the room, lighting candles to help the wizard see a bit better.

Anticipation skittered across your skin and through your body as you helped Gale prepare for what was to come. You conjured a cot, gathered some medical supplies, and laid out some blankets for when you inevitably passed out. Meanwhile, Gale set to work on warding the room to prevent any collateral damage to the cottage or neighboring houses should the spell go awry. You tried to avoid glancing at Astarion, who was perched in his reading nook, one leg bouncing with nervous energy. You hoped that if you just carried on, business as usual, it would make him less inclined to call the whole thing off. And, too, he despised being coddled in front of an audience, even if it was your old companion Gale.

Finally, finally, all the preparation was complete. You turned slowly to survey the room. Formerly the den, it now resembled a half-hospital ward, half-wizard’s keep with all the furniture shoved aside to one corner, a cot and medical supplies positioned in another, and a sizable runic circle drawn in chalk in the center of the room. You had everything you needed. Now, it was just time for the spell.

“Do you feel ready?” Gale asked carefully, observing you taking in the room.

You turned to him and smiled.

“Yes. I’m ready,” you answered. Confidence bloomed in your chest as you walked forward to take your place in the very center of the runes. Then you turned to Astarion.

“How about you, darling? Ready?” you asked, reaching out for his hands.

You could see the anxiety in his eyes, rounded as they were, but he nodded once and rose with preternatural grace to walk forward and take your hands. You both stood stock-still, facing one another.

Despite being on solid ground, in the comfort of your house, it suddenly felt like you were on the precipice of something incomprehensible. This home, this room where you had shared so many wonderful memories, was now a liminal space. Whatever was to happen, neither of you would be the same afterward. It was a heady feeling, the awareness that you were about to walk headfirst into cataclysmic change.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Whatever happens. I love you.”

“And I love you,” you returned, smiling broadly. “Whatever happens.”

With a final reassuring squeeze, you slipped your hands from his. Closing your eyes, you rested your palms on your diaphragm and began to take a few deep, concentrating breaths. Centering yourself for what was to come.

When you opened your eyes again, you felt ready. Calm. Assured.

“Let’s begin,” you intoned. Both Gale and Astarion nodded wordlessly.

With your eyes locked on Astarion, you reached into the well of magic within your body, drawing up power slowly, methodically. You began channeling it through your fingers. Almost as though they were doing it on their own accord, your hands lifted to begin performing the spell’s gesticulations, your wrists twisting and fingers curling with perfect precision.

Then, in a low but strong murmur, you began to recite the required incantation in Celestial. It was a lengthy script that you had spent months memorizing and practicing in order to pronounce the words flawlessly. The words poured from your lips in lilting, seamless tones as you continued to shift your hands and maintain your gaze on Astarion standing before you.

After a few moments, the candles you had lit around the room snuffed out in unnatural synchrony. The runes encircling the two of you began to emit brilliant white light. While they touched you as well, the rays seemed to direct themselves intentionally toward Astarion, bending so that every bit of him was illuminated from head to toe. The light left him unharmed, however, washing over his skin like a gentle caress. The effect left him looking like a veritable angel. You committed the sight to memory, glorious as it was.

It carried on like that for some time, uninterrupted, but you reckoned you were nearly halfway through the spell when you felt a sudden shifting within you. The sensation of your magic changed. What had once felt like open channels coursing through your body was now beginning to feel more constricted. Like something was compressing your power.

Sweat began to bead on your forehead, and your bones began to ache as though your entire body were being drained of all its energy. Distantly, you realized that one of your knees was also beginning to buckle. But you couldn’t stop now. You knew from your training with Gale that if you paused, if you faltered in the incantation or hand movements even once, the spell would be ruined. And there would be no second chances.

Refusing to be deterred, you pushed with all of your might against that fatigue, willing yourself to maintain your focus on the spell. On Astarion. On the look in his beautiful eyes. Was it just your imagination, or were they starting to look a bit different?

Just as you began to feel your second knee buckle, a strong pair of hands braced around your shoulders. Holding you up, providing you support. You couldn’t break to look behind you, but you didn’t have to. You knew it was Gale. Your kind, long-suffering companion. Your closest friend. You trusted him. You knew he wouldn’t let you falter.

Sustained by his added support, you managed to utter the last remaining lines of the incantation. Your arms were heavy and growing lethargic, but you willed your hands to finish the final movements. You could feel you were on the verge of unconsciousness. Your magic was screaming in your veins to relent, but you bullishly forced your body into compliance.

You will not fail, you chanted in your mind. You promised Astarion this would work.

Finally, finally, the last syllable fell from your lips. As the room descended into hushed silence, you felt your magic give one last, desperate surge before abandoning you completely. The shock of it caused you to lose all remaining strength, catching Gale by surprise as you slumped gracelessly to the floor.

You lay there with eyes wide open, but you could barely take in your surroundings. Everything appeared to be covered in dark, gauzy film. You could hear rustling around you, above you. Then a pair of hands were grasping your face. You couldn’t make out the words they were saying to you.

In your last few seconds of consciousness, you could have sworn you saw a pair of startling blue eyes peering down at you, concerned.

Funny, you thought in a delirious stupor, none of your friends had blue eyes.

***

“Vital signs all look to be in safe ranges. Their magic is completely depleted, but that will resolve itself over a few days of rest.”

Astarion listened to Gale’s explanation, but his eyes never wavered from your face. It was so foreign, seeing you like this, wan-faced and unconscious. Of course, he had seen you injured before, but no wounds had ever rendered you so still and lifeless. It felt utterly unnatural for you to be this motionless, when you were usually such a tumbleweed of frenetic energy. The anxious, nonsensical part of him was itching to shake you awake, will you into consciousness by sheer brute force.

“Astarion, did you hear me?” Gale’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes.”

“They’re going to be completely fine.”

“Yes.” Astarion replied absently, eyes never leaving your face.

“Astarion.”

“What?” he hissed, finally lifting his gaze to the wizard. His voice had as much bite to it as a rattlesnake prepared to strike.

“The spell worked,” Gale smiled.

“I– I know,” Astarion replied, peering back down at you. “My fangs are gone, I think.”

He paused, swallowing thickly, before continuing. “I can’t feel them anymore. It just feels like regular canines now.”

“Don’t you want to take a look?” Gale asked cautiously.

Astarion’s eyes flitted up to meet the wizard’s gaze and then back down to your sleeping form.

“We don’t have mirrors in the house,” he replied in a timid sort of tone, sidestepping the question.

“I can conjure one. Here–” Gale paused, then began murmuring a few phrases in a language unknown to Astarion.

After a moment, an ornate, floor-length standing mirror shimmered into existence in the center of the room. Astarion flinched, staring at it, caught between two diametrically opposed urges to flee from the room and sprint toward the mirror. How was it that both feelings could exist simultaneously in his body, a distant part of him wondered.

“Go on,” Gale encouraged. “See for yourself.”

Astarion glanced down at you one last time before releasing a shaky breath and moving from the side of your cot to the center of the room. He approached the mirror at an angle, so that he couldn’t yet see his reflection. If he had one.

He knew he should just charge up to the blasted thing and see for himself whether it was true, that the spell had completely worked. But something about the mirror just felt more real, more meaningful, than the notable absence of fangs in his mouth. And that made it a thousand times more intimidating. Seeing his reflection for the first time in over 200 years? It was something he had only dreamed about for decades and decades. Astarion didn’t know how he would bear it, if he stepped in front of that mirror and saw nothing but the back of the room reflected.

He knew Gale was watching him surreptitiously as he tried to maintain his composure. He really did not want to break down completely in front of the wizard, no matter how good a friend he had been to you both over the years.

Finally, clenching his eyes shut and with a grumbled “Fuck it, just look” to himself, Astarion sidestepped to stand fully in front of the mirror. He opened his eyes.

And then he was watching himself open his eyes.

His beautiful, cerulean blue eyes.

The jaw of the face he saw in the mirror dropped, mouth opening in shock. His jaw. His face. It was his mouth he was watching as it opened.

He could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Slowly, he raised one hand to his hair. The mirror image tracked his movements. He watched himself as he threaded his fingers through his curls. His silver, perfectly coiled locks. He marveled at how they laid so carelessly posh on his head, giving him a tidy yet windswept sort of look.

His other hand lifted to touch his jaw. His eyes tracked his fingers’ movements in the mirror as they traced the sharp cut of his jawline. When he turned his head, he noticed the puncture marks on his neck were nowhere to be found. Not that he had ever seen them, of course, but he had felt them. Those warped indents left over from Cazador’s brutal transformation process. Many of his unfortunate victims over the years had commented on how barbaric the scars appeared against the otherwise perfect skin of his neck. But looking at himself now, nothing remained on either side of his neck than spotless, alabaster skin.

His eyes darted wildly about his reflection then, barely able to comprehend everything he was seeing. His unblemished, pale skin. His full lips. His refined patrician nose. His sharp cheekbones. His delicately pointed elven ears. His perfectly defined brows. The thick, dark lashes that surrounded his eyes. Blue eyes. The broadness of his shoulders. His trim waist. His lean yet muscular legs. The way his physique alluded to a subtle but powerful amount of strength.

He was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And he could see it for himself now, for the first time in centuries. He could see it all for himself, those things his former lovers had praised him for. The things you complimented him on. The features he caught you ogling time and time again.

And then, he felt something truly remarkable inside his body. A sensation long since forgotten but now returned to him in full force, as though it had never left. His heart was beating in his chest. Pounding, in fact. Almost as though it would blast a hole right through his ribcage.

It was overwhelming, exhilarating, and stupefying all at the same time. And suddenly, like a swift punch to the gut, the magnitude of it all wrenched the very breath from his lungs. He crashed to his knees, watching his reflection as he slumped before the mirror.

A strangled cry clawed up and out of his throat as his mind twisted itself in knots, trying to accommodate this reality alongside everything else he had known and experienced before. He felt altogether too much and nothing at all. Tears poured from his open eyes as uncontained sobs wracked his body.

Amid his emotional outburst, Astarion registered a gentle hand against his upper back. A solid presence against his side. Gale. Dear, sweet Gale.

Distantly, he realized the wizard’s hand did not feel like a searing heat against him anymore. In fact, he felt no warmer than Astarion felt. Like their body temperatures were near equal. Before, that had only ever happened when his spawn siblings or Cazador had touched him. But now, he was as warm as any other living being.

Living. Being.

Before he could seriously reconsider it, Astarion crushed Gale in an embrace as he continued to weep, the need for companionship and solace a sudden ache within him. The wizard held him with all the comfort and compassion a friend could offer, rubbing his back in soothing circles and murmuring words of assurance.

Finally, after some time, Astarion peeled himself away from Gale’s embrace. He dried his eyes on the cuff of his shirt and attempted to restore some remaining ounce of his dignity. Gale sat quietly next to him, affording him some companionable silence to gather himself.

“Ahem,” Astarion coughed, attempting an air of normalcy. “Th-thank you, Gale.”

“Think nothing of it, my friend,” Gale responded with a gentle smile. “Truly, I am so happy for you.”

Astarion nodded, peering about the room, his eyes landing on the mirror once more.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” he murmured, watching himself speak the words.

“Well, you could always take the test one step further and walk outside,” the wizard suggested.

“No,” Astarion shook his head, glancing back at you, asleep in the cot. “I want to wait until they wake up. Do it together.”

Gale nodded in understanding. Peaceful silence permeated the room once more.

“Gale?” Astarion asked after a few moments.

“Hmm?”

“If you tell anyone I wept on you like a newborn babe, I’ll fucking kill you.”

A hearty guffaw erupted from Gale’s mouth at Astarion’s words.

***

Consciousness rose up in you slowly, as if emerging from a deep body of water. You felt around the sheets blindly, realizing you were back in your bed. Strange, given the last thing you remembered was slumping to the floor before Gale’s feet.

Had the whole thing been a dream? Your mind reeled at the thought.

Then you hesitantly reached down, reached inward, for your magic. The result was immediate and evidence enough: your well of magic was not nearly as expansive as it had been before. What had once felt like a reservoir the size of a lake now felt akin to a pond. Still potent, but a much smaller resource.

That’s okay, you reasoned to yourself. It will all be worth it, if it worked.

You refocused your attention to your surroundings, peering around the room for any sign of Astarion. You had no idea how much time had passed. It could have been hours or days later for all you could gather.

After a few moments, you heard the door creak. Your eyes darted over to the sound of the noise, and you watched as Astarion cautiously entered from the hallway. At the sight of you awake, he paused in the doorway to look at you.

His eyes met yours. Blue eyes. Dark, cerulean irises.

Then he gave you a broad smile. No fangs. Perfectly normal, elven teeth.

Suddenly you found yourself unable to see anything as your vision blurred behind a rush of tears. It worked.

It really, truly worked.

Your arms outstretched, you beckoned to him, childlike, wanting nothing more than to feel him close to you. Astarion huffed a laugh as he crawled into bed with you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

Laying your head against his chest, you began to weep anew as you heard his heart beating against your ear for the first time. A reliable, strong thump-thump, thump-thump. It was, without a doubt, the loveliest sound you thought you had ever heard. Astarion said nothing, just held you as you cried tears of pure joy, of relief, into his shirt.

After some time had passed, you finally detached yourself from his chest, putting enough distance between yourselves that you could truly take in his changed features. You noted the absence of the puncture wounds on his neck. You stared unabashedly at his gorgeous eyes. Tentatively, you reached a hand out to part his lips with a finger. He chuckled as he surmised your intentions before opening his mouth slightly to allow you to see his perfectly normal-looking canine teeth.

“Have you gone outside yet?” you whispered in a scratchy tone, your voice rusty from lack of use.

“Not yet. I was waiting for you, darling,” he smiled.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Oh, about a day and a half, I’d say,” he replied. “Your snoring has been absolutely egregious, by the way,” he continued, a wicked little smirk gracing his mouth.

You smacked him lightly on the arm. “How dare you!” you cried with mock outrage. “I cure you of vampirism and this is the thanks I get?”

“You cured my vampirism, not my cheeky personality, darling,” he teased, but then grew more serious. “Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”

You squeezed his arm in assurance. “I feel fine. Still a bit weak, but I should fare better after some food and a little fresh air.”

“And your magic?” he eyed you carefully.

You paused, biting your lip.

“Don’t sugarcoat it, darling,” he warned.

“I think it took a lot from me. Permanently, that is. My well of magic feels much smaller, but it’s still enough to defend myself with, if the need ever arises.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. The look on his face was one of utter guilt.

“Don’t be. Astarion, look at me,” you beseeched him, clutching his face in your hands. “I would do nothing differently. I’d give it up all over again for this. To see you cured. This is a gift.”

He let loose a halfhearted laugh. “I think it should be me saying that last bit rather than you, my dear.”

“Are you kidding? Think of all the blood I’m saving myself now that you’re finally cured,” you quipped, winking at him.

A true, hearty laugh bubbled past his lips. “Leave it to you to say something so crass during such a serious moment.”

“But you love me,” you cooed, leaning in for a kiss.

“Always, my darling,” he returned, pulling you closer to him as his mouth descended upon yours.

***

The first morning rays were peaking over the horizon when you cracked open the cottage door to peer outside. Your gaze wandered across the rolling hills beyond the main thoroughfare, catching glimpses of the herdsmen and farmers who were out beginning their days’ work. They were the only other folks up and moving about at this time of day.

You took in the cloudless sky, painted with beautiful pastel smatterings of oranges, pinks and blues. The air was pleasantly misty as a gentle breeze washed across your face, bringing with it the subtle scent of chimney smoke from neighboring houses.

It was, by all accounts, an incredibly mundane morning. At least for everyone else besides you and the pale elf lingering behind you on the doorstep.

“Are you ready?” you asked, looking back at Astarion.

His gaze was trained on the sunlight beginning to peak over the hills. He nodded absently, allowing you to take his hand in yours as the two of you began strolling down the road.

His fingers were tense as they interlaced with yours. You could tell his body was priming itself to flee at the first sign of discomfort. It was knee-jerk survivalist behavior. You knew it would subside after today, which is why you remained a silent, comforting anchor of support by his side.

As you continued to walk, the two of you took in the comforting signs of life around you. The smell of fresh bread baking in someone’s oven. The bleating of a family’s goat. The quiet clucking of hens in their coop. The laundry hung out to dry. You watched as Astarion took it all in, his eyes wide with wonder at being able to see this side of living once again. He hadn’t been able to witness it since the tadpoles in your brains had been destroyed.

By the time the sun had fully risen above the horizon, you and Astarion had made it out of the little town. You were walking along a well-trod path through the hillside when the morning light swept across your skin. You felt Astarion flinch at the sensation, his fingers squeezing yours in a vice-like grip. You paused your walking, turning to face him instead.

He was gorgeous, half of his face limned in the gentle warmth of the sun. His eyes filled with such hope and happiness it threatened to rend your heart in two. You watched as he looked at you and then down at his hands, flipping them over, studying them in the light. Noting how they didn’t burn or blister.

“See? It’s real. You’re cured,” you whispered, smiling up at him. His blue eyes met yours.

“A whole lifetime of this,” he murmured, returning your grin. “Of you. Of the sun. Of living,” he emphasized, taking your hand and placing it over his heart. It was beating like mad beneath your palm.

“Here’s to all of it then, darling,” you replied before capturing his lips with yours.

***

TAGLIST: @call-me-nyxx, @tenderlyuniquepatrol, @arioneway, @twistedcutie3, @bloopthebat, @my-bunny-prince, @starlight-ipomoea, @iceice-baeby, @moonmaiden1996, @dark-star-exe, @campfull-of-weirdos, @yokaimoon, @im-just-a-simp-le-whore

557 notes · View notes

sl33paholics · 5 months

Text

Baki's Reaction To Your Ex Trying To Get You Back Headcanons! (and a mini story ig)

Uhm.....it's 6am as I write this and I'm giggling my ass off

To say that Baki would come up and beat the shit out of your ex on the spot right in front of you and others is an understatement.

Baki is more of a quiet observator. Rather than confrontational, Baki might choose to observe your ex from a distance, assessing the encounter with a calm demeanor, possibly seeing it as an opportunity to reaffirm your commitment.

Baki's not an idiot. He can choose to downplay the situation, opting not to give your ex's attempt much attention, focusing instead on maintaining the positive dynamics of your relationship.

Known for his actions more than words, Baki might subtly intensify his efforts to show affection and support, reinforcing Baki's commitment through deeds rather than direct confrontation.

Baki knows how much you love to post yourself on social media. The latest fits, shoes, or with your friends. He's aware that your ex still follows you, even though you unfollowed him many, many months ago. Expect Baki to always hype you up in the comments under your posts on Instagram by spamming hearts and down-bad shit as well, he's most likely getting pinned every time.

Hell, if you're not posting yourself, you're sharing photos of the two of you on dates and random shit. Such as the you two at the gym. Baki's arms always wrapped around your shoulders or his hands gripping your hips. Baki can tell your ex is salty, he stalks his story on an alt account, LOL!

Sometimes, Baki could sense how annoyed and bothered you are whenever you'd see accounts named "shien_giveaway_6997" viewing your story. It's so obvious! Baki values honesty, and he'd engage in an open conversation with you about the situation, discussing any concerns or insecurities. Baki doesn't want a pretty woman like you stressing out over a man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

If you don't want to speak to him about the whole situation, Baki could respond with affectionate gesture, like a surprise date or a thoughtful gift, to reaffirm his commitment and show that he values and appreciates you. He could even use humor and make jokes about your ex's attempts to diffuse the tension.

However, it could only be so long until the man could entertain your ex before he was going to be pushed off the edge.

Baki could opt for a straightforward conversation, expressing his feelings and concerns calmly while speaking to the man via text message or phone. While not confrontational, Baki gives off a subtle warning vibe, a non-verbal cue that communicates the depth of his commitment and suggests that attempting to disrupt the relationship won't be taken lightly.

This could go two ways. 1) Your ex could simply back off and respect your wishes that your current relationship holds. Or 2) your ex could simply be cocky, shouting at him over the phone, insulting him to insert dominance, and other things to Baki as he's just there sitting silently listening to him yap yap yap yap yap yap yap -

It just so happens that Baki and your ex stumbled across each other while in the city.

Guess you can see where this is going.

Seeing Baki's size, your ex laughed and berated him. How can a man his height cuff YOU up? He couldn't believe it. How low were your expectations? He was tall and built. Baki? Sure. He was ripped but SHORT.

"I don't have time for this," Baki simply said, making your ex raise a brow in confusion. "(Y/N) is waiting for me, I can't have my love waiting." Baki walked past the taller figure, his hands in his pockets. He stopped once your ex pulled on his shirt, tugging and pulling Baki back.

"A short boy like you can't do shit!" Your ex would spat. The smell of cigarettes reeked and made Baki want to cough in his face. "Suddenly coming 'round and stealin' MY girl away from me?! I should punch you in your shit-"

It's safe to say that Baki hit this man with a two-piece combo. A slap and a roundhouse kick sent that man straight to sleep on the sidewalk. Baki stared at the unconscious man before sighing. Continuing his journey towards your place.

Hours later, your phone begins to blow up from your friends of the picture of your ex on the sidewalk earlier that day. You confronted Baki only for him to pout and say, "He ruined my shirt :("

You couldn't be mad at him. At least your ex knew not to fuck with you and your boyfriend anymore.

#anime #black writers #female writers #poc writer #black reader #x black reader #fluff #baki #baki smut #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki the grappler #headcanon prompts #headcanon #jack hanma #yujiro hanma #kaoru hanayama #crack fic #baki headcanons

521 notes · View notes

spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

Text

Snowstorm

Summary: As you stay together in a small inn, you accidently do something that triggers Astarion

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game, trauma talk

TW: a mild description of SA, a mention of rape

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

You want him.

Your body pulses with heat, and your veins course with adrenaline, the aftermath of the thrilling fight. Whether facing a dragon, a troll, or a devil, your muscles are taut, and the desire for more blood, debauchery, and victories fuels you. The longing for the fight to continue is undeniable, but nothing can hinder the path of your sword.

Yet, when the battle concludes, a different yearning takes hold. Your body desires something more personal, more natural, and at this moment, it craves Astarion.

A snowstorm blankets the surroundings with heavy flakes. You shiver in the cold. You get inside the inn, the only one along this part of the Long Road and go upstairs to the room you and Astarion have rented. It's the first time in months that both of you will sleep under a roof.

Astarion is there. Sitting on the floor with a book.

It's something with beds, he once admitted to you. The only time I used to have a chance to sleep on them was when I was seducing someone. I slept on the floor at the mansion, often tied up or chained. Hard surfaces feel safer; I know it sounds odd. I-I will try to adjust to sleeping in beds. Cuddling with you is worth fighting another shadow from my past.

Astarion puts the book away, studying you. You see happiness in his eyes, absolute joy.

"How was it, my sweet?" he asks. His voice is tender and caring.

"I wish there was one troll more," you pout. "I am ashamed even to ask the reward for such an easy kill."

"How dare they bother with you with boring tasks?" Astarion chuckles, finally standing up before you, opening his arms.

You are a weird couple. You effortlessly embrace your feminine side when you're in front of him, feeling like a beautiful, desired woman. To kiss him, you have to tiptoe a bit, and you revel in the sensation of sinking into his strong hands. Yet, you are the warrior, wielding a formidable two-handed axe. While you could easily lift Astarion (his elven bones being light and hollow), you refrain, knowing it annoys him.

You hang around his neck, nuzzling the collarbone. His arms press you tightly. "I should be upset with you for leaving me here," he teases, kissing your forehead.

"Just wanted to give you some personal space. Besides, that beast really took a toll on locals."

"Such a brave little thing, always thinking about the others. I still have a lot to teach you about selfishness."

You want to say something else but can't. You turn your eyes to the small window. The snowflakes are dancing in the winter wind, and you shiver.

Astarion helps you remove the armor, and it falls to the floor with a loud thump. As his hand slips under your shirt, you realize he has desired the same thing you have.

You pull away a little and then lightly push Astarion onto the bed. He chuckles and lets you lead. You straddle him with your hips, feeling a hardening bulge between your thighs. You kiss him and then take his white shirt off.

Astarion raises his elbows, anticipating your next action. You place your chilly palms on his chest, and although he would shiver if he were alive, the contrast between your usual temperature and that of someone who's just been outside in winter is barely perceptible to him.

You are burning hot, darling, he once told you. You are constantly burning like a campfire. No, more like… sunshine.

You tease his right nipple with your tongue and then lick the left one. Astarion groans, but you push him back on the pillow when he tries to sit down.

You don't notice that he stops looking at you and turns his face to the window. But you are already too aroused to pay attention.

You firmly grasp his wrists, using all your strength to pin Astarion to the bed, effectively restraining him. As he mumbles something, you silence him with a kiss, anticipating a response, hoping for a passionate reply that would make you lose yourself in the moment's intensity.

"Let me go," he mutters through clenched teeth when you part your lips from his.

"What?"

"Let me go!" he yells at you. His body is rigid; his fangs are bare, ready for an attack. You weaken your grip, Astarion frees his hands, and the next moment, you find yourself on the floor.

"A-astarion", you whisper. "What is wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

He is trembling; anger is mixed with fear and disgust. His mouth is half open, and his eyes wander as if looking for a hidden enemy.

"Leave me alone- "his voice cracks as if he's been screaming too long. It seems he wants to say something else, but whatever fear gripping him is too intense.

He gets out of bed, snatches the shirt, and puts it on like light armor.

What have you done; you think. You scroll through the memories, trying to figure out what has hurt him. Gripping his wrists? It's not like it could hurt him…

"Astarion, my love, » you stretch your left arm to him, but he recoils as if you are holding a razor to flay his skin.

"Go away. Go away!" he collapses on the floor, pressing legs to the chest.

There is no point in arguing; you will hurt him even more if you try to touch or console him. At this moment, you feel like your heart is pierced with a spear.

You leave the room and go downstairs.

The tavern on the first floor of the inn is empty. The snowstorm rages outside, threatening to bury the whole town.

Your heart and mind ache as you think about Astarion being alone with his fears and whatever nightmare you accidentally awoke. You are sure it was about hand gripping, and though it doesn't sound like something awful compared to what you usually do to each other, still -

You should have asked.

You should have asked him, you stupid cunt.

Astarion is still healing his broken mind and soul, and even if you don't have to be extra careful around him anymore, it doesn't mean there is no trigger left.

But there is no point in returning right now. You know him. If you press any harder, Astarion will just run away. And who knows where he will go in such a snowstorm.

You spend sleepless hours watching the snowflakes fall. The winds are howling like hungry wolves. Finally, you decide to come back – if Astarion still doesn't want to see you, you will just rent another room and sleep.

Because gods know you are tired.

…Astarion lies on the floor on his back, eyes closed. There is no implication that he's tried to hurt himself (it has happened a few times before after enduring yet another nightmare), and you are happy that at least he is here.

"Hello, my sweet", he says, opening his eyes. There is no fear or disgust. It is only the exhaustion of a person fighting monsters within for too long.

"I just wanted to check on you. If you don’t want me here, I will go."

He sighs. "Sit with me," he finally says, and his voice removes the stone from your chest.

You can't help but notice he's rolled the sleeves down. "Tell me what I did wrong".

"You? Nothing. It was just a… coincidence. Something got into my mind, and…you know how it happens to me".

You feel the desire to hold him, to hug him. You haven't seen Astarion so vulnerable for ages, but you don't want to trigger him further.

"We both know it wasn't. Please, tell me. And I am sorry for making you feel whatever you felt."

He tilts his chin up, studying the wooden ceiling.

"It just reminded me" he avoids looking at you. "One of my victims."

Oh no.

"I don't know who she was. He usually gave me some time to hunt, to choose a victim. But that night, he wanted something soon, right away. He said he would carve another poem on me if I didn't bring him anything within hours."

Astarion makes a pause. "It was a very similar evening. The snowstorm. So cold even I felt it. No one was outside, so I just went straight to the nearest inn to pick up some unlucky victim. It’s not like I had many options in such weather. "

His gaze wanders the room as if he is ashamed to look at you.

"There was a woman. Some old prostitute, drunk and filthy. It wouldn't take me much to do the job, and I was in a hurry."

You recognize this emotion on his face. Utter disgust.

"Well, I didn't have to play any tricks on her. There was no point. She just dragged me to bed, stinking like a pile of dead rats. Ideally, I would prefer to forget all the intercourses I'd had before you. But if I had a choice to choose only a few to forget, this would be the first I would name."

"Did she do the same things I did?"

Astarion finally looks at you. A familiar light returns to his eyes. "Darling, there were so many things done to me and things I did to others. We would have nothing left to do in bed should I decide to avoid every detail about my past."

"But still?"

"Yes. She gripped my hands and pinned me to the bed. The prostitute was pretty strong, and I thought she would break my arms. Or something else. At least, I would not be surprised if it happened."

It is not precisely that, you realize. Something after.

"So," Astarion proceeds. "Since she thought I was her client, I needed to pay for the "unforgettable service." I said I would gladly give her extra gold, but we must go to my place, that rich mansion in the Upper City. And some people, relatives of mine, would want her services as well. She followed me despite the terrible weather. Things we do for money and sex, I guess."

Astarion is silent again. The light in his eyes is replaced by disgust again.

"For a moment, I actually thought he liked her. At least, her blood. He was pretty content in the process. I was standing about five feet away from them, watching life leave her body. And seeing the choice I had as usual."

"A filthy rat and a sharp razor," you mutter.

He chuckles. "The rat wasn't really bad looking. Less filthy than the victim, that's for sure."

Astarion's shoulders start trembling.

"When he was done, he made me approach him. The moment I was in his arms' proximity, he started beating me. I don't know why. Because he didn't like the victim, because she was too drunk, because I did my job too bad or did it too good. But it was violent even to his standards."

The tears flow through his cheeks as if his body re-lives those moments of pain. You stretch your hand to show your intention but don't dare to touch Astarion. He looks at you but doesn't see.

"I don't remember how long it lasted. I started dissociating. It wasn't me. It wasn't my pain. Cazador beat me to the state where even vampiric regeneration needed time to repair the damage. And when I fell down on the floor, he –"

You know what he will say. You know what happened after.

"-he raped me"

The silence is unbearable. The only sound you can hear is muffled sobs. You feel like crying, too, but you get yourself together. That is the moment when he needs you, when it is you who is strong. Because he isn't. Because the monsters of the past have won.

"Astarion", you finally say. "May I touch you?"

He looks at you in horror, and you think he will either run away or snatch one of his daggers and slice his own skin.

"I don't know what was worse. That it was so painful because every fucking bone in my body was broken, that the other spawns saw it, that this dead woman was just near me. Or that after he'd finished, he ordered me to stay on that floor. I remember the window – it was a dark night, and the curtains were open. It was snowing." He points outside. "Snowing just like now."

Silence envelops you, drowned in a mixture of sorrow and rage. It feels like you've witnessed every horror that has befallen the man you love, only to discover that his mind harbors yet another layer of torment. The weight of it all is crushing. If it were within your power to end Cazador's existence a thousand times more, each demise would be crueler than the last.

Twenty-eight stabs by Astarion weren't enough for such a monster.

"My – My sweet, it wasn't you. I just heard his voice again in my head. As if he was still alive and that he gave an order not to move. Similar place, same weather, the grip." Astarion looks away. "I am sorry, it doesn't seem like… I will be able… for a while."

Now, there is shame in his voice, which breaks your heart for the second time.

"It's all right, Astarion. Take your time. Do you want me to touch you?"

"Not - not naked skin – please," he mutters.

You finally hug him, and Astarion melts in your arms.

"I am here, Astarion. You hear me? I am not going anywhere. I don't care about your past, about all these awful things. I am not scared. I am not disgusted", you say firmly. "Take all the time you need. Just let me know what you need.”

He finally relaxes enough to hold you again. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Astarion, what can I do to make you feel better?"

"Can we just sit together?"

You sit on a bed, putting the pillow behind your back. Astarion sits between your lap, putting his head on your chest. You hug him as tight as possible, pressing him against you as you reach for the blanket.

"What are you doing?" he giggles.

"It's so cold I won't be able to warm you alone. Relax"

Astarion nods, and, in a moment, his whole body is covered by the warm blanket.

You start massaging his scalp, and he releases a sigh.

"You are the best thing that happened to me," you whisper. "I love you. I will do anything to help you with your memories and your past. I am not ashamed, not disgusted. I knew what I was getting into when you told me the first details of your life. I am not with you for your looks. I am not with you for sex."

«That is still the most surprising because if you were for me for these two things, I could understand it.”

"Honestly, I really fall into your looks, don't get me wrong. Never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. But the more we traveled, the more I loved you.”

You kiss the crown of his head and are pleased to notice that he is no longer tense.

"Do it again, that – thing."

You kiss him, burying your face in his silver curls. "My beautiful elf, my love, my man, so strong, so beautiful, so resilient. Every spawn in that wretched place was broken in pieces. You were the only one who managed to preserve himself. Everyone was telling me you were a mess that would drag me to hell, but I saw such strength in you! You survived. You did the most unimaginable thing. You survived where anyone would die. Preserved your sanity where madness was the only remedy. And what you did back then, refusing to become the very monster, is the thing that makes me proud of you. Astarion, listen to me. You are everything. I want you. I need you. Your presence makes me happy."

He looks up at you and raises his hand to caress your cheek. His face is red with tears. He wants to say something, but words are drowning in cries. He covers his face again, and you start cradling him in your hands as if he was a little child.

Eventually the sobs subside, and Astarion finally relaxes. He turns his head toward the window, watching the falling snow.

"Do you want me to close the curtains?"

"No. I am making new memories."

"What?"

"The next time I see a blizzard outside the inn window, I want to remember at once how you held me, how I felt safe and loved. In time, I will be able to replace everything. "

He touches your knee cup below the blanket. "Tell me about that awful troll you murdered yesterday. With all the gore details."

You plant a kiss on his cheek. "Just don't complain you weren't there."

"Of course, I will complain. Had fun without me, how did you dare?" he laughs. "And what if this troll had hurt my darling girl without me by her side to protect her?"

"I thought I was the warrior in our relationship."

"You are the most amazing woman a man dares to get. So, forgive me for being protective."

You squeeze him in your hands. You feel like falling asleep, and the last thing that comes to your mind is how grateful you are for having Astarion in your life.

Tag List

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession

483 notes · View notes

jadeylovesmarvelxo · 5 days

Text

Eddie Munson X Henderson! Reader

Part one

Part two

Things between you and Eddie reach boiling point.

My requests are open. Read my pinned post for what I do and don't write 💌💞

💞💞

After a long day at school all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and zone out for a while, do something relaxing and fun.

That thought excited you until you saw a familiar van parked outside your house. A feeling of dread creeps over you and your suspicions are confirmed when you head inside and there he is Eddie Munson is sitting on your couch and charming your mother.

Dustin is hanging on every word he says, Eddie looks up and smirks when you clear your throat.

"What's going on... Why are you here Munson?" His shit eating grin does nothing to quell your irritation.

"Hey princess, thought I'd stop by to see baby Henderson after school. He invited me to dinner and I just had to accept" oh of course he did. Your eyes narrow at him, you're sure he's plotting a way to get you back after your encounter with him at the party last week.

"Isn't he wonderful honey" your mother beams and you bite your tongue. It wouldn't do any good getting yourself grounded over Munson.

"Oh he's amazing" you flutter your eyes sarcastically at Eddie who's full lips break into a huge smile.

"I knew you loved me secretly sweetheart" he pretends to swoon and it almost makes you laugh. Idiot. You could see how Dustin liked him, well just like a tiny bit.

"You lot have fun while I go out okay? And be good Dustybun" your mother coos to Dustin and you grin delighted at his flushed face and wait til she leaves before bursting into laughter.

"Aww Dustybun we will have lots of fun won't we?" You throw your arm around him and gently pinch his cheek, teasing him. Eddie snickers in the background.

"Why was I not informed of your nickname Henderson?" He asks all serious but the glint of mischief in his eyes says different.

"His girlfriend calls him that" you add and Dustin mutters under his breath about how annoying you are.

💞

Eddie has rented Labyrinth for him and Dustin to watch and the two of them are enraptured by it. The movie is pretty good and you know, David Bowie in eyeliner, that's always a good thing.

The doorbell rings and you assume it's the pizza you ordered. Your stomach falls when you see it's Jacob. Great.

He's all puppy dog eyes and sweetness. You're wary because that can change in the blink of an eye.

"What do you want?" He scowls and the sweetness is gone and replaced with his usual sneer.

"Charming, here I am hoping we might be able to get back together and you act like a bitch as per usual" you shake your head and question what you ever saw in him.

"Yeah that's not going to happen, goodbye" you attempt to close the door but he blocks it, you're hearts racing with nerves but you refuse to show it.

"Remove your foot asshole, go home" he ignores you but then his eyes widen and he gapes.

"Munson?" Eddie is beside you, glaring at Jacob and he towers over him. There's a menacing look on his face and he looks between you and Jacob his eyes flashing.

"You heard the lady, leave now" Eddie snaps and Jason holds his hands up though he still has that stupid smirk on his face.

"didn't realise you and Munson... He waggles his eyebrow and you slam the door in his face. Asshole.

"You seriously dated that guy?" Eddie asks disgusted and you wince at his look.

"He's an asshole and yeah I did and it was a temporary lack of judgement" you tug him by his jacket and lead him into the room to talk in private.

"Look thanks for that. Jacob is a dick but I can handle myself. I don't need rescuing" you assure him and he raises his eyebrows and folds his arms across his chest.

"I don't doubt that sweetheart but somebody needed to tell the asshole to fuck off. Good thing I'm here'' he shrugs and you sigh.

"You're everywhere I look Munson, you never leave me alone. Now you've infiltrated my home! I can't escape you and your stupid dimples and pretty eyes" you say the last part and your eyes widen, Eddie turns serious and his big brown eyes burn with an intensity that you've never seen.

"Pretty eyes hmm?" he moves closer to you and you find that you really don't mind. Your heart is beating like crazy and warmness spreads in your lower stomach, it's intoxicating.

Jacob never made you feel like this. Ever.

"Don't act so surprised. You must know how hot you are, even if you're an ass" you're pressed against your door and the ache in your stomach is out of control now.

"Hmm well you might be upright and bitchy but you're so fucking beautiful" his hand caresses your cheek and the air is thick with tension and before you know it the two of you are kissing.

You both kiss for what feels like hours but it's only a minute or so and it's perfect, you never want it to end. Eddie pulls you closer and you nibble on his bottom lip, Eddie stifles a moan and white hot pleasure pulses through you.

Fuck, you want to hear him moan again. Eddie pulls away for a second and you whimper missing the contact of his lips on yours. Then they press to your lips again and it's amazing.

"Pizza's here" Dustin yells and you and Eddie jerk apart both breathing heavily and Eddie is gazing at you in wide eyed wonder.

"Fuck" he whispers and you nod feeling stunned yourself. Dustin stomps through and looks between you and Eddie.

"What happened to you two? You went so quiet I thought you might have killed each other" he looks between you and Eddie suspiciously.

Dustin scoffs, "We were just talking butthead, come on let's get pizza" he looks back at you for a moment and you know that you want that kiss to happen again.

You're screwed.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #enemies to lovers #eddie munson

175 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 7 months

Note

I love your idea for Hanahaki! Like you said, it's always so tragic and dramatic and angsty (and who am I kidding, I'll keep reading it), but your take on it is so refreshing!

For the event, can I request Ruggie with 15, Trey with 1, and Jade with 18? Romantic; fluff and/or suggestive, please?

And if I completely misunderstood how to request properly, I'm terribly sorry. 😬

So excited to see more of your work!

part 2: jade leech x gn!reader ruggie bucchi (15); trey clover (1) [separate] x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, suggestive [wc} – 2,500+ each prompt 15: “Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?” prompt 1: “Why is your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?” note - both ruggie and trey got real long, so i will post jade's snippet separately later! a floral inconvenience

Dahlias – In pre-Colombian Mexico and Guatemala, wild-growing dahlias and their tubers were seen as a food source.

Ruggie has been absolutely miserable for the past week, as one would be when they have mysterious large, red flowers sprouting out from their mouth and head. It also didn’t help that all the other second-years, especially the twins, were giving him a hard time.

“Hey, hey Jade! You know plants.” Floyd was currently picking at the flower that Ruggie just spit out, undeterred by the spit on it.

“I bet we can figure out who Sharksucker likes if we figure out what flower he’s spittin’ out. What kind is it?

Jade leaned down to study the intense red, ray-like petals, poking at the central disk of yellow florets in the middle. Ruggie was NOT a fan of how interested Jade was, attempting to lean out of the twins’ grasp.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I certainly haven’t seen it on any of my hiking expeditions or in the botanical gardens.”

Ruggie yelped as Jade plucked a flower from a particularly sensitive spot behind his right ear.

“Ow! Watch it man!”

Rubbing his ear, Ruggie glared at Jade, who was still looking curiously at the flower bringing his arm down for Azul who also seemed eager to identify the flower.

“I certainly don’t recognize it either, looking up similar flora, there aren’t any that are quite the same as this one.”

Ruggie could just make out under Azul’s breath, “Imagine all the money we could make if we say we discovered a new flower!”

He scoffed at Azul, rubbing his eyes from mental exhaustion. The twins and Azul weren’t the only ones interested in his hanahaki.

“It’s a really pretty flower, Jamil! Do you think we have any like it in the gardens back home?” Kalim eagerly asked, trying his best to lean in without disturbing Silver, who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.

“Hmm, no I don’t think so.” Jamil looked mildly interested, holding a hand to his chin. “The Asim gardens have a variety of exotic and rare flora, so the fact that we don’t recognize this one is certainly interesting.”

Jade chuckled, “So, it would be easy to narrow down the person of Ruggie’s affections, yes.”

“Why are you all suddenly so interested in my love life?”

“Why, we’re being benevolent, of course!” Azul replied, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Yea Sharksucker, it must be reeeeal annoying to puke up flowers all the time. Besides—” Floyd gave a nasally laugh as Jade continued his sentence.

“—wouldn’t it be nice to have some assistance getting rid of his annoying sickness? After all, with your background, you’re not the most eligible bachelor around.”

“Okay, first of all fuck you—” Ruggie jabbed a fork in his direction.

“Not interested, but thank you.”

“Second of all—ew no, gross—second of all, you guys aren’t exactly the most pinned for guys, even with your family money.”

Riddle let out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “Certainly, no price in the world could make up for your personalities.”

“Aww, come on Goldfishie.” Floyd pouted. “You don’ wanna go out with me? Why? I don’t meet your mama’s standard?”

“Why you—”

“Hey guys!”

A chipper voice interrupted a reddening Riddle, who looked like he was ready to launch himself over the table to strangle Floyd. Ruggie perked up to look at you and Grim perched on your shoulder, carrying a lunch tray with some coffee, a bowl of oatmeal, and a singular powdered donut.

Adjusting the tray in your hands, you let Grim jump off onto the table as you sat. You grabbed the donut with your freed hand and reached your arm out to Ruggie.

“Hey, I got you a donut, powdered’s your favorite right?”

Oh. Oooooh powdered was indeed his favorite. So were you. By the Seven, he thinks that you’d be his favorite snack. You were so cute. Your lips looked soft, plush. He wondered if you took a bite out of the donut if the first thing he’d taste was you or the sugar.

Opening his mouth to reply, Ruggie found himself instead choking, a tickling sensation developing in the pit of his stomach and growing up his throat to his mouth. He gagged as various shades of bright red blooms fell out of his mouth and onto the table. Specifically, onto your tray as you sat directly across from him.

Ruggie could make out the stifling laughter of his peers . He internally groaned, looking at your tray, now covered in red flowers. Riddle tapped his shoulder, offering him a cup of warm tea.

“Here, it should help soothe your throat.”

Taking the cup, he started drinking what he thought was honey lemon tea, soothing his throat.

Across the table from him, you let out a soft cough, drawing his and the other’s attention.

“Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?”

The tea went down the wrong pipe. Ruggie started choking, Kalim frantically reaching over to pat his back.

“Oh? Does the Little Shrimpy know this flower?” Floyd asked, he and his brother slithering over to sit on either side of you. Their eyes met briefly, then at Ruggie, both giving him a knowing grin.

“Dahlias? Yeah! They’re my favorite!” you answered, blissfully unaware of the predicament they’d just put him in.

Ruggie wished he could be just as carefree.

The other five slowly turned their heads to stare at Ruggie, each looking especially gleeful and teasing.

“You don’t say?” Jamil drawled, smirking at Ruggie, whose state of mind was rapidly deteriorating. “We’ve never heard of it.”

You looked at Jamil in surprise. “Wait really?”

“Yes, these, dahlias you called them? They’re not from Twisted Wonderland.” Riddle had a mischievous smile, tipping the end of Ruggie’s cup before he could interject, making him choke on the tea again.

“Aw really? That kinda sucks.” you pouted, twirling one of the loose flowers in your hand. “I love them, fun fact, did you know you can eat both the flower and the tuber?”

Ruggie would never admit it out loud, but your cute, excitable grin makes him feel all warm and giddy inside. He’d even give you his grandma’s homemade donuts if he got to see more of it.

By the Seven, he’d give you his donuts. He really had it bad.

“Really? How fascinating! Isn't it Ruggie?” Jade asked, giving a closed mouth smile. The tone of his voice made it clear though, he and the others figured out you were the root cause of his hanahaki.

Ruggle got up abruptly, snatching the donut from your hand (why miss out on free food?) and the breakfast sandwich he’d gotten for Leona.

“I gotta go take Leona’s breakfast to him, I’ll see you guys later—”

“Wait, Ruggie!” Kalim cries out, startling Silver awake. “But the Prefect knows the flowers—”

“WOW I GOTTA GO! BYE GUYS SEE YOU LATER!”

Ruggie rushed out of the cafeteria, red petals flying behind him as he ran. The remaining 8 at the table stared after him, you in particular looking confused.

“Is he okay?” You asked, looking confused and disappointed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, perhaps we went a bit too far…” Jamil muttered.

Riddle sighed as he nodded in agreement, “Yes. Don’t worry yourself about it Prefect, we were discussing something else, you didn’t say anything wrong.”

You hummed as you cleared off your tray of dahlias, taking small bites of your oatmeal.

“Why’s he puking flowers?”

The group stayed silent, sharing knowing looks with each other. The twins and Azul in particular were smirking, while Kalim perked up.

“Oh he has hanahaki, it’s like a love sickness.” Kalim blissfully replied, Jamil pinching his nose and sighing heavily.

“Love…sickness?”

Riddle placed a hand on Kalim’s shoulder, giving him a stern look. “We had our fun earlier, but it’s not our business to share his medical information with anyone.”

He turned his gaze to you, making you shrink in on yourself. “It would be best to ask him yourself, Prefect.”

Floyd tsked. “Aww, that’s no fun! Don’t you wanna help Sharksucker? You do, dontcha Shrimpy?”

The twins leaned into your ears, like an angel and devil on your shoulder if the angel was just a devil with a halo and wings taped on.

“Why, you care for Ruggie, don’t you dear Prefect?” Jade cooed, chucking at your pink cheeks.

“Hehehe, of course they too, look at their blush!” Floyd giggled, poking at your right cheek. “Little Shrimpy isn’t a shrimp for nothin’!”

“And after all, only you can help him!” Azul came up behind you, startling you as he placed his hands on your shoulder.

The trio chuckled, coercing you to listen to their honeyed words, feeding on your soft spot for the hyena beastman.

Riddle shared a look with Jamil before sighing and walking off. Jamil followed suit, grabbing Kalim by the arm to drag him away before he too, inevitably, got involved in their scheme. Silver, now that he was bright and alert, similarly left, nodding at you.

Here you were, alone amongst the “benevolent” Octavinelle trio, now regretting waking up early to get breakfast instead of just sleeping in.

Ruggie had been leaving trails of dahlias behind him all day, getting on the ghost janitors’ ire and lectured by Crewel specifically.

“Loose flowers in a lab is the perfect example of a hazard to lab safety! Have you not gone to the nurse to get this taken care of?!”

He hadn’t had a fit since seeing you this morning, luckily. He had noticed you in the hallways in between classes though. Everytime your eyes met his own, you’d flush and rush away.

“Ugh, one of the guys must’ve told them.” Ruggie groaned, slumped over as he walked over to the kitchens, feet aching from running around his shift at Sam’s and now Mostro Lounge.

Azul had asked him to collect some perishable items that he’d purchased from a supplier, having it delivered to the school’s walk-in fridge until he could have someone pick it up.

Jade and Floyd were supposed to be there, ready to help, but they were nowhere to be found. Ruggie shrugged, walking into the kitchen and heading to the fridge before he felt himself get yanked by his collar.

“Hahahehehe! Be sure to thank us later, Sharksucker!”

“Fuhuhu~ Indeed Ruggie, I’m sure you’ll appreciate it later.”

“Oof! Hey!” Ruggie stumbled into the pantry, landing on something soft. “What the-Jade, Floyd this isn’t funny—”

“Mmph!” The floor beneath him started wiggling and groaning, startling Ruggie. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, his hyena genes serving him well as he yelped, looking down.

A white cloth was tied around your mouth while your hands and feet were bound by what looked like Floyd’s scarf. Ruggie’s ears and dahlias drooped down as he saw that your cheeks were covered in tear tracks.

"Mmmphie! Mmmphie! Mmmph mmph mmph!" came out from behind the tightly-bound cloth.

“W-what? FLOYD! JADE! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” He could hear the twins’ laughter from outside the door. Ruggie started pounding on the door with his fist, growling before freezing, hearing your muffled crying.

The hyena scrambled to turn on the light switch before returning back to your curled up form, gingerly untying the bound on your mouth.

“R-r-ruggie!!” You bawled out, fresh new tears spilling out of your eyes as he undid the knot on your hands, then feet.

“Hey, hey it’s alright Prefect, Y/N? I’m here—AH!” He yelped as you launched yourself in his arms, landing on his back, red petals flying . He stiffened as you shoved your head into the nook of his neck, hiccuping as you began babbling.

“I’m sorry Ruggie!!!” Softly glowing dahlias started popping up from between his ears and vines growing down his arms as he spat out petals.

“What’re you talking about? This isn’t your fault—”

“But it is! Azul and them said you were sick and that it was my faaaaault!” He froze, pulling you away to look at your teary eyes and snotty face.

Gods you looked terrible. Red-faced, puffy eyes, and pout made you look like an ugly crier, not doing you any justice. Ruggie couldn’t help the squeeze in his heart as you reached back out to clutch onto him again. You were the cutest ugly crier he’d ever seen.

“What? What do you mean—”

“They said that my crush on you’s been making you puke the flowers!” Ruggie’s ears perked up, and despite the growing blush and the resembling dahlias, he let you continue.

“Your crush?”

“My crush!!! It’s making you sick, a-and that I needed to confess to make it go away but-but-but-” You wailed, Ruggie allowing you to shove your head into his chest.

“I was embarrassed! Then Floyd got mad a-at me and he and Jade tied me up and threw me in here.”

Ruggie hummed in response. It made sense now why Azul specifically asked him to collect the produce from the kitchen, instead of letting him manage the floor like usual.

“They said I was ’ppose to be a present. I’m sorry Ruggie, I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of your head affectionately.

“Nah, it’s not your fault entirely.” He tilted your chin to look up at him. “You are the reason I got the flowers, but not cause of your crush though.”

You made a questioning noise, blinking curiously at him. You looked like one of the kids back home after throwing a tantrum.

“Shyehehehe! They didn’t say what the flowers ‘re from?” Ruggie laughed as you pouted, pinching his cheek.”

“What do you mean? Is it still my fault? And I basically just confessed! I’m crying in a closet, just confessed and you’re laughing at me!”

Ruggie’s laughter died down as he grabbed your hand, moving it to cradle his cheek instead. His ears perked up as he heard your soft gasp, his eyes meeting yours, blown wide.

His tail wagged, despite himself. “It’s cause I like ya, Prefect. I like ya so much that it makes my stomach ache and flowers sprout from all over. I gotta hand it to ya, for a cute little herbivore, you sure got your teeth dug right into my heart.”

You scoffed, using your other arm to wipe your face clean.

“The dahlias make sense now…did you at least try eating them?”

He let out a barking laugh, followed by your giggling. “I thought about it! I spat out enough of them that I got sick of the taste, besides…”

Ruggie could hear the rustling of his tail under his clothes as he wrapped an arm around your waist, grinning wider at the gasp that left your mouth as he yanked you onto his lap.

He pressed you against him until your bodies were flushed against one another. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach as he gazed up to your flustered face. Ruggie nuzzled his head into your chest, feeling your rapidly speeding heartbeat.

“Ruggie…” You tangled your hands through his hair, making him groan as you gently pulled his head back and rubbed the backs of his ears.

You leaned down to graze your lips over his, giving Ruggie a heady whine as he nibbled on your lower lip.

“Shyehehe~ You’re awfully clingy for a poor little hyena like me, you sure I meet your standards?”

Despite his attempt at humor, Ruggie was sure that you could hear the apprehensive tone in his voice, your eyes softening.

Instead of pointing his insecurity out, you answered his question with a deep, open-mouth kiss. He groaned into your mouth, returning your kiss with desperation, as if you’d disappear in his grasp.

Ruggie’s hands wandered along your sides, slipping underneath your shirt and tracing your spine, causing you to shiver in delight. You pulled away from his lips, causing him to let out a displeased growl before shifting into something closer to a purr as you left wet kisses along his neck.

Feeling your teeth softly dig themselves into the crook of his neck and chest, Ruggie rolled his hips into yours, delighting in the moan that left you.

Just as you started suckling, no doubt leaving a mark, his world turned upside down as he suddenly fell backwards onto the ground of the college kitchen.

“Ow, shit!” Ruggie winced as the back of his head smacked into the hard tile flooring, you splayed over his body.

“What is wrong with you two? When I said get them into a room together, I didn’t mean—oh my!” Azul squeaked, glasses skewed as he saw the two of you. Ruggie developing a dark red hickey and you with your shirt nearly half off.

“Aw, see it worked out!” Floyd chirped, delighted at the turn of events.

Jade chuckled, taking his phone out to quickly snap a photo.

“W-what, hey! Don’t go taking pictures!” Ruggie cried out as the both of you scrambled to get up and tidy yourselves.

Jade smiled innocently. “Oh? Don’t worry, I’ll only share it with the other second years, just to win a bet.”

Ruggie narrowed his eyes at Jade. “Alright but how much did ya bet? You’re gonna split it with me right—”

The four men winced at your shrill shriek.

“RUGGIE?! NO!”

Zinnia – A purple zinnia flower symbolizes spiritual exaltation and honoring the divine. It also symbolizes love on a soul mate level.

Pink cosmos – In the Victorian era, cosmos flowers symbolized joy in love and in life. Dark pinks ones should be given to a romantic interest.

The latest unbirthday planning was going well. Since spring had just arrived, it was tradition for the first spring unbirthday party to have the desserts be made with the seasonal harvest. Riddle was especially happy to hear that Trey would be making strawberry and apricot tarts for this party.

Trey was especially excited to try his hand at his mother’s sugared lavender cupcakes, a family recipe that she insisted on keeping out of his hands until he guaranteed her an in-law.

Luckily he’d managed to convince her by telling her that the cupcakes might help him dazzle a certain someone. She was quick to mail him the original copy with the promise of a visitor during the next break.

Now if only he could find the recipe card.

“Hmm, I thought I brought it down from my room…hey Cater?”

“Yeah Trey?” Cater answered in a sing-song voice.

“I can’t find my mom’s recipe card.” Trey groaned as he rubbed his face. “She’ll kill me if I lose it, can you go to my room to check if I left it on my desk?”

Cater winked and gave him a finger gun. “Sure thing Trey! Cay-Cay in on the case! Brb!”

Trey nodded as Cater left the kitchen, now focusing on preparing the jam and frosting for the strawberry-lemon cake, which was cooling on the counter. He was so focused on making the jam and whisking the cream cheese frosting, he failed to notice a certain someone sneaking up behind him.

“Boo!”

Trey hummed, looking over his shoulder to look down at you with your arms out and teeth bared. “Oh, hey Y/N, you’re here early.”

“Aw booooooo! You were supposed to get scared!” You pouted at the taller man, pulling at his arm as he laughed at your little tantrum.

“Haha, scared? Of you? Hardly.” Trey winced and held his arms up in defense, still laughing as you started to pound on his arms and back.

“Ow, ow! Okay I concede!” He grabbed your hands, holding them over your head as he leaned down towards your face, smirking.

Trey hovered his face over yours, enjoying your pouty blush. With a teasing lilt, he cooed, “Don’t be a brat, Y/N. Or else you won’t get a treat later~”

“Hmph, maybe I’ll just steal some later. What are you gonna do? Punish me?” You replied in an equally teasing tone, stepping on your tiptoes, making yourself just talk enough to brush your nose against his.

“Mmm, don’t tempt me, I just might—”

“Hey Trey I found your—whoa! What did I just walk into?”

The two of you rapidly distanced yourselves from each other, Trey nearly knocking over the bowl of jam and you tripping into the table chair.

Both of you answered Cater with a louder than needed, “Nothing!” as your faces turned the same shade as the strawberries he was baking with.

“Riiiiight, uh, Trey I got your mom’s recipe card!” The ginger looked between you two with an absolute ecstatic grin, making eye contact with Trey and wiggling his eyebrows.

“I can come back though, if you two need a moment—”

You interrupted, “No, it’s fine. I promised Ace and Deuce I’d help paint the roses.”

Trey looked at you wistfully as you tidied yourself, pulling out a bouquet of dark-pink cosmos from your bag.

“Here, you like these right? I thought you could use them to decorate the cake ‘n stuff.”

Trey smiled and accepted the bouquet of admittedly stunning cosmos, ignoring Cater’s open mouth smile and silent squealing.

“Thanks, I’m sure they’ll go great with the cake, I’ll see you later.”

His eyes wandered up and down your body as you left the kitchen, waving your fingers as you gave a playful “Bye~”

Trey replied with his own enamored “bye” as he waved after you, a lovesick grin on his face as he watched you leave.

Eyes still on the doorway you left through, it took a few moments and Cater waving his hand in front of his face to get his attention back.

“Helloooo? Wonderland to Trey~” Cater sang, snapping his fingers in Trey’s face. “You’re a lil out of it, got something juicy you wanna share with me? Come on! Give Cay-Cay the deets!”

Trey rolled his eyes, swiping the recipe card from his friend’s hands.

“There’s no ‘deets’ for Cay-Cay to know, not if he wants me to make him a spicy fruit cocktail for today.”

Cater hummed as he watched Trey resume building the strawberry-lemon cake, gesturing for him to grab stuff from the pantry.

“Now, help me grab the lavender from the pantry, and get some more flour, I’ll need it for the cupcakes.”

“Sure! Speaking of flowers…” Cater leaned over to whisper into Trey’s ear, “why’s your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?”

Cater let out an uncharacteristically giddy cackle as he watched Trey drop the clean bowl he’d grabbed, whipping around to stare at him with wide eyes.

“You saw those?”

“Yeah, zinnias right?” Cater called out as he collected the items Trey requested. “Little Y/N’s favorite~ You want to tell me where you got so many?”

“Uh, the botanical gardens, where else?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, the gardens.” sneaking up from behind him, Cater plucked a light purple colored flower from the back of Trey’s neck, who hissed at the sudden prick.

“Not from hanahaki popping up on your body, tooootallyyy!”

Trey groaned out loud, attempting to look behind him for any other blooms. “Damn it, I thought I got rid of them. Are there more I can’t see?”

“Nah, you’re fine.” Cater waved him off, looking around the hard-to-reach places for his friend. “It was just the one.”

Trey sighed in relief, thanking Cater as he placed the bag of lavender petals in his hand, “Good, it was a pain to get them out of my hair, let alone my mouth. They’re really bitter you know?”

“O-M-G, Treeeeey!” Cater gasped, throwing himself against his friend. “That’s, like, a supes easy fix! Just confess, you already have the flowers to give!”

“Ha, I know, I plan to later.”

“Plus, with the way you two were allover each other earlier, there’s no way they won’t say yes—OMGWAITWHAT!”

Cater shook Trey by his shoulders, while the latter attempted to steady the bowl of dry ingredients in his hand, guarding it with a vigor akin to a knight and their liege.

“OMGNOWAYWHENHOWAREYOUGONNADOITINFRONTOFEVERYONEAREYOUGONNADOITINPRIVATECANIRECORDCANIPOSTITTREYTREYTREYTREYTREY—”

Trey smacked his free hand on Cater’s mouth, effectively silencing him minus a few muffled sounds. He breathed out a heavy and deep sigh before slowly replying to Cater.

“If I take my hand off your mouth, will you quiet down?”

Cater gave an enthusiastic nod, eyes twinkling. Trey could feel the grin against his hand, and reluctantly and slowly removed his hand.

“...So when did you find out? When did you decide to confess?!” The ginger asked giddily, watching as Trey resumed his task at hand, preparing the ingredients for the lavender cupcakes.

“A week ago, I overheard Ace and Deuce talking about the Prefect coughing up a bunch of pink cosmos, they were arguing over what tea would help with their symptoms.”

Cater made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, pointing at the cosmos you’d given to Trey earlier, placed carefully on the counter.

“You mean—”

“Mm-hm, those are probably their hanahaki, grew up with those in my mom’s garden, she used them as garnishes on cakes, especially wedding ones.”

Trey smiled fondly as he reached to grab one of the small flowers, rubbing the soft petals between his fingers. “A bit after that I started to find zinnias in my bed, coughing them up and everything. I think the nurse probably put two and two together after I went to see her.”

He shrugged as he grabbed his mother’s recipe card, twirling it in his fingers.

“I figured, why wait? Mom always said that it was these cupcakes that snatched Dad up, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at them plus she wouldn’t pass down this recipe without a partner in the picture.”

“Oh, Trey!” Cater clasped his hands together as he squealed, “You want help? I get some of the froshies to finish up the tarts and cake, so you can focus on those! Like, don’t even worry about it boo!”

Cater winked gave Trey a half-arm hug. “I’ll make sure they follow instructions to a T! All I ask for in exchange is the exclusive right to snap the first pic of the brand-new school couple, capiche?”

True to his word, Cater was quick to round up a handful of freshmen who he’d found goofing off instead of painting roses. They were more than happy to take over Trey’s baking, after he gave them strict rules and a talking too on what to do, in order to not be snitched off to Riddle.

Thankfully, the cupcakes weren’t difficult to make, what with his experience in the kitchen. He’d cut the recipe down by half so that he’d only make four, medium sized cupcakes. In fact, the most difficult part was making sure that he ground up enough lavender to turn the glaze a soft purple, which complemented the zinnias he’d placed in the small basket. Using the plush flowers as a cushion, he placed the blooms of your cosmos in between the gaps, creating a beautiful, pink and purple presentation.

He was sure you’d love it, carefully hiding the wicker basket, covered by a white tablecloth, underneath the table.

Later, Trey smiled as he looked around at the dorm members enjoying the party. His cake was a big hit, and Riddle in particular was enjoying the flower themed desserts, specially the daisy-shaped fruit tarts.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time Trey!” Riddle praised him, “It seems that everyone has particularly enjoyed the sweets this time around. Well done, I’d expect nothing less!

Trey chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks Riddle, be sure to praise the freshmen too, that group over there helped out a lot as well.”

Riddle nodded, his mood in high-spirits as he walked over to the group Trey gestured to. Trey raised his head to look over the crowd of red, white, and black for Cater, who was currently adjusting his slice of cake for the perfect angle.

Grim was also with him, hungrily waiting for Cater to give him the okay to make the sacrifice of scarfing down the sweet dessert. Perfect.

Trey briskly walked over to him, basket in hand, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Cater perked up and nodded before calling out.

“Hey Acey, Deucey! Com ‘ere real quick, Cay-Cay needs ya for a super-duper important task!”

The pair perked up mid-conversation with you, nodding at you and rushing over to Cater per his request. Trey walked over to you, though he could make out Cater asking the duo for assistance with a Magicam post.

“Hey, Y/N.” You smiled up at him as he approached, wiping the tart crumbs from the corner of your mouth. Trey had the impulsive to lean down and lick the mess off of you himself, though he shook it away.

“Hey, what’s up Trey!” You clasped your hands behind you, rocking back and forth on your heels, unaware of the petals. “You did great with the desserts, I noticed you didn’t use the flowers I gave you on the cake though…are they not edible?”

“About that…I actually wanted to show you something else I did with the flowers,” Trey held his hand out to you soft smile growing bigger as you laced your fingers through his.

Trey led you to an isolated corner of the rose maze, stiffening slightly as you wrapped your arm around his, relaxing as you leaned in. The small basket was being carefully guarded against his right side, being carefully cradled like a precious stone in a gold necklace.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence like an old, aging married couple on a stroll. The image made him smile.

I wasn’t but a few minutes later that you’d arrived at a secluded white gazebo, roses and vines crawling up the sides. It was just far enough away that the sound of laughter and chatter from the party was but a faint white noise, giving Trey the perfect ambiance needed for his plan.

“Take a seat right there, I got something for you.” Trey gestured to the stone bench, a fitting heart-shaped backrest further setting the mood.

“Oh? Alright.” You took a seat, still looking up at him with a curious expression. “Is it something in the basket?”

He let out a soft chuckle, “Why don’t you close your eyes and let me surprise you?”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, scoffing as you obey.

“Fine, if I get another spoonful of vanilla extract though—”

Trey barked out a laugh. “I told you it was bitter! Now keep those eyes closed.”

“It smells sweet! It’s made of vanilla!” You huffed, flinching and then relaxing as you felt him place the basket on your lap. “That’s not the worst thing even, I’m still angry about the oyster sauce donuts!”

“Okay that one was your own fault, you saw me do the same thing with Ace and the chestnut tarts, remember? When we first met?”

You smiled fondly, as did Trey though you couldn’t see it. What Trey could see though were the cosmos blooming along your exposed nape. He let out a soft cough, spitting out a lilac zinnia.

“Hmm, yeah, I do.” He wiped his hands clean, gingerly placing the zinnia on the bench next to you, uncovering the basket and grabbing one of the still pristine cupcakes.

“Okay, here—” Trey took the sugared lavender stem and held it up to you mouth. “—open up and say ‘aah’~”

“Pfft—okay, aaaah~” Grinning, Trey placed the stem on your tongue and watched as you slowly chewed.

“Well? How’s that taste?”

You hummed. “It’s sweet, flowery…it tastes like the evening tea Riddle has before bed…soooo lavender?”

Trey hummed in affirmation. “That’s right, now take a bite of this.” He unfolded the wrapper off of the cupcake, holding it up as you took a small bite.

“Mmmh! Trey!” Your moan of delight caused a pleasurable shiver down his spine, less than pure thoughts filling his head. “It’s so good, it’s lavender too? Is it a cookie…no wait, a cupcake!”

“Heh, good guess, I have one last thing for you to taste, ‘kay?”

He watched as you eagerly nodded, mouth open for the next treat. Trey leaned down, hovering his lips over you own, noticing the light purple glaze still on your bottom lip.

Feeling his breath over your own, you stuttered out, “T-trey? What are you—mmph!”

Trey gently, but firmly pressed his lips to yours, licking the glaze and swiping his tongue along your lip as you opened up to let him in. Your hands reached to tug him by the lapel, returning his kiss with eagerness and tugging him closer and closer, gasps leaving both of your lips.

Still hands were now wandering, gliding up your thighs and along the curve of your back, deciding to settle on the backrest. Trey found himself leaning down to match your height, knee settled in between your thighs.

A beguiling groan rang from between your mouths, from who you didn’t know, then another as Trey’s tongue met your own. Then a gasp as you felt his hand hook underneath you as he lifted you to curl against his body, left hand still cradling and rubbing soothing circles at the small of your back.

Your back was so far arched, chest meeting chest, that you moved your hands from their steel grip on his lapels to instead wrap around his shoulder and neck as he dipped you further to feel your body press into his.

Trey licked your lower lip again, positive he could still taste the sweet lavender on your lip, causing you to whine as he instead took your lower lip between his teeth and tug. Breaking the kiss to observe your red face, gasping breaths, and half lidded eyes.

He has to say, of all the cakes, cookies, and pastries he’s made and tried over the years, you were by far the sweetest, and most divine treat he’s tasted. Trey decided that he needed another taste to confirm as he lips met yours for another passionate kiss.

#twst #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #trey clover #ruggie bucci x reader #trey clover x reader #twst ruggie #mochi requests #a floral inconvenience #twst trey #twst x reader #twst ruggie x reader #twst trey x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

457 notes · View notes

rowdyslove · 9 months

Text

𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓. | luke hughes

꒰ genre: fluff + very suggestive ;established!relationship!au | long drabble

꒰ word count: 2.6k

꒰ warnings: lots of kissing !! slight size!kink, teasing (plz let me know if i’m missing anything)

sometimes, you tended to forget just how tall your boyfriend luke was.

even though it would seem impossible to forget how the boy you love so dearly completely towers over you like a lamp post. not saying that his height was a bad thing. in fact, it was never even close to being a bad thing in your opinion.

especially when his seemingly unusual height came in handy for you whenever you couldn’t reach something.

however, his height would quickly switch over to something really teasing and annoying. like when you would be standing next to him and he would use your head as an armrest, only to end up putting the most miniscule amount of his body weight on you as he then leaned down to boop your nose with his other hand and teasingly mumble, “my adorable short girlfriend.”

and the times he would do that, you honestly wanted nothing more than to slap him right across the face.

“you lucky tall bastard,” is all you would huff out and then luke would drop his arm from your head, only to grab a firm grip of your shoulder, turn you to fully face him and hold your chin between his fingers as he slightly tilted your face up to him.

your eyes would widen and your body would lean back slightly, but luke would always keep an arm snaked around your waist keeping you up. he would then lean his face in closer to yours, hot breath fanning over you before he would say, “you know you like how tall i am though sweetheart. and i do too, because from up here, i get a perfect view of just how beautiful you are.” he always made sure to speak in a more husky tone when he said those words, surely because he knew how much it affected you when he spoke in such a deep voice.

and of course, it would leave you a complete flustered mess every single time. the hottest of temperatures rising to the sharp apples of your cheeks, leading you to plant your face right against his chest to hide the deep red blush.

he never just stopped there though. there was always some other kind of sexual thing he would come out with right afterwards. “or the perfect view i get of you when i lift you up and pin you against the wa–”

“luke warren hughes!” raising your voice at him, clutching tightly onto his shirt before pushing him back. the words that left his lips causing your mind to cloud over with the most ungodly thoughts. It wasn't even funny at this point.

and then there were days where luke would just be soft and sweet.

when he would come back to the umich boys’ house, tired and worn-out from hockey practice, slouching himself down onto his bed and closing his eyes as he kept his head down. you would always come over to the house after practice to make sure that he was taking the proper time to relax after a long day of being on the ice for hours.

you would walk through the door quietly while closing the door behind you, careful to not make too much sound as you walked up the stairs and made your way to his bedroom. seeing his weary stature, you walk closer to his frame and stand yourself between his long legs and gently grab his shoulders to pull his head into your chest. letting your hands softly rub his back or either comb themselves through his curly locks.

and he would allow you to soothe him for a while, only to then wrap his arms around your waist and pull you even closer to him as he buried his face even further into your chest and sigh softly in your comfort.

or there were even days where he was all of the above; annoying, sweet, and even sometimes full of lust.

just like he was today.

this time, you were already situated at the house awaiting luke’s return.

you hear the sounds of the door opening and closing lightly downstairs. no booming voices, just what seemed to be a singular person’s footsteps resonating louder and louder as they got closer, and you smiled to yourself softly as you kept yourself busy in the bathroom, finishing up your after-shower routine. you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind, the person burying their chin deep into the crook of your neck as they plant a gentle kiss to your cheek.

you peak at the figure through the bathroom mirror, and seeing that it’s just your boyfriend, you take in his discheveled appearance. hair a messy bunch atop his head, gray sweats paired with a simple white t-shirt covering his figure, and face seemingly softening the longer he held you close.

“you’re back,” you smile and you feel luke nod against your skin, leaving a trail of more kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck—each kiss lingering a little bit longer than the last. “how was practice today?”

“very tiring.” he mumbles quietly, nose brushing against the sensitive spot of your neck, causing a tingle to run itself down your spine. “i missed you, way way too much.”

“of course you did,” a smirk plays across your lips as you brush through your damp hair, “you seem to miss me a lot lukey.”

“i always do.” he admits innocently, pressing another kiss to your neck, his arms tightening more around your waist. luke has always been one to show the most of his affection for you—behind closed doors of course. and that usually led to many incidents of you ending up in the shower for a second time around with the boy joining in. but this time, you really weren’t feeling like standing under the steaming hot water again, so you focused yourself deeply on finishing your hair and cleaning up the mess of toiletries that were splayed around the sink from both you and the other boy’s of the house.

luke whines lightly against your skin when he notices you not picking up on his little signals he’s giving, his lips still lingering close to your neck as you finish your hair, setting your brush down in your over-night bag you kept at the house for when you would stay with him. he slightly pulls his face away from your neck and looks down at the mess you were starting to clean up. but before you could even start to get deep into it, luke quickly turns you around in his arms, yours reaching up to wrap around his torso to keep yourself stable after the fast movement.

“that mess isn’t going to clean itself lukey.” you state the obvious. however, it seemed that luke did not care one bit. he wrapped his arms tightly around you once again, holding you close against him.

“so?” he chuckles, “it’ll still be there after, you can clean it then.”

“do you really think it’ll get any better the longer it gets left there though? considering the people that live in this house.” you raise a joking eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look at your boyfriend’s face. luke just smirks with no remorse on his features at all, and you roll your eyes. “idiot.” you giggle, and he just chuckles along with you shaking his head, before pressing his forehead against yours as he bends down. luke’s hands slowly creep to the bottom hem of his oversized shirt that you had drenched over your small frame.

of course, you had stolen it from his closet, because why not?

his fingers reach your skin, thumbs rubbing small circles into your hip bones, fingertips ever so delicate as they graze your soft skin.

as well as how affectionate he can be, luke has also always been the most teasing when the two of you were alone. he would tauntingly touch you every way he could until you would take the first step. it was a small quirk you noticed in your boyfriend over the while you’ve been dating him.

and it worked every time.

bringing yourself up to your tiptoes, you let your hands leave his torso and bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, crashing your lips vastly against his. luke hums in content into the kiss as he wraps his arms even tighter than before around your waist, lifting you up to him in the slightest.

your hands grip tightly onto his neck, keeping his head close as you delve deeper and deeper into the kiss. luke holds onto your waist securely with his right arm and turns the kiss into a more fiery and passionate kind. his left arm trailing its way around your body, feeling every crevasse and curve; each perfect point of your figure he could touch.

luke’s lips that plowed into yours, nearly knocked all of the breath out of your lungs, yet moving swiftly and skillfully against yours. you hardly had a chance to even react as he presses his tongue against the seam of your lips, and after feeling your grant of access as you part your lips willingly, he dives inside your mouth. the kiss grows more sloppy with the now strong taste of beer off of his tongue hitting your taste buds that you assume he must’ve drank with his teammates before coming home.

and during these kinds of kisses, came the con of being shorter than luke.

in all honesty, standing on your tiptoes as you were for such a long duration of time could be extremely exhausting—especially when it came to kissing your incredibly attractive boyfriend. your legs ached immensely. muscles cramping up with slight pangs of pain to remind you to stop stretching as much as you were. however, the excruciating pain you were starting to feel would not stop you from continuing to kiss luke. you would never let the pain in your legs come in your way; never in a million years.

you anchor your arms more firmly around luke’s neck as he keeps kissing you, sucking on your lower lip, moulding perfectly against you. you try your best to ignore the physical exhaustion your legs were feeling and continue on.

although you heavily prayed that the boy would just carry you to bed in his arms and fall asleep with you, you didn’t want his kisses to end.

slightly peaking open your eyes, you see just how calm luke is as he kisses you, every kiss being drawn out with nothing but pure passion. a kind of passion that it would be impossible for him to just stop and take you to bed now.

you feel your feet begin to cramp under your weight, soon reaching a point where you just can’t help but fall back down to your feet. you let go of luke, his eyes softening, seeming to be worried that he had done something wrong.

luke grabs hold of your hand, rubbing softly on your palm. he looked like he was about to ask you what was wrong before he saw you glare deeply at him. “would you stop being so damn tall?”

luke’s eyes widen slightly, not expecting the comment from you, yet it still amuses him. he lets out a chuckle of surprise, looking at you with such adoration.

“i can’t really change how tall i am sweetheart.” he states, teeth showing through the smile that displays itself across his face. luke felt it troubling trying to suppress the almost bursting bubble of laughter he felt forming in his throat, but he also found his heart warming with love for you. he bends down further to meet your face more closely and lightly rubs his nose against yours, “you know you love my height.”

without notice, the corners of your lips begin to tug upwards into a big smile. “stop laughing at me, i’m being serious.” you point your finger at yourself, “some of us have to work hard for this, you know. my legs hurt.” you then pout, bending down to rub the calves of your legs to soothe them the best you could.

luke gently smiles at the sight of you, yet this time you watch him closely. this type of smile seemed like it held much more meaning than it looked. his heavy gaze didn’t leave you for even a second as you complained to him, still smiling and keeping hold onto your hand.

“dammit luke hughes, would you stop smiling at me like that!” you whine, “this is serio—”

suddenly luke lifts you up with ease that completely takes you aback. his arms wrap around your waist as he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his lower back. immediately his hands move to support your thighs, hands slightly grazing the curve of your behind, your eyes widening before he sets you down on the counter on the side of the bathroom sink, a small mess of items on the counter being moved out of the way and some falling onto the floor in the process.

“luke,” you breath out. your arms are rested around the boy’s neck once again, but this time with less strain on your legs.

“now please,” he sighs, locking eyes with you as he places one hand on your thigh, tantalizingly rubbing his thumb against the inner side closest to your core, the other gently pushing away strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes before it rests on your cheek. “just let me kiss you.”

he lunges himself forward, your back colliding against the mirror as he delves back into your lips. even more vividly than before, you can taste the beer off of his tongue as it rolls along with yours. the bitter taste seeping down your throat with every pulse his tongue makes in your mouth.

it felt like magic. the way his lips connected so perfectly with yours, tongue rolling against yours in a rhythm that made you melt like puddy in his arms. his mouth was so warm, the caressing touch of his lips much softer than anything else you have ever felt and you let out a sweet moan into him, hands raising up to tangle your fingers into his curly tufts of hair. you tugged at them slightly, his body heat burning against you and you can feel the growing bulge between his legs that grazed against your thighs.

you stifle out a small gasp as his lips leave yours, lips trailing down your skin, causing your entire body to flutter. the heat between the both of your bodies warms you completely, leading you to feel more heat pooling between your legs as luke sucks softly at the skin of your neck. he only lets go of your flesh once he sees the bright red mark that is left behind. your head drops forward onto his broad shoulder, soft whimpers leaving your throat as you feel his warm breath fanning over your skin, and your fingers dig themselves deeper into his scalp.

he slowly pulls away from your neck causing you to lift your head, his soft hooded eyes locking with yours. the heaving breaths coming from the both of you being the only distinct audio in the entire house. you softly smile at the boy, hands cupping his face delicately, thumbs grazing the very very slight stubble growing along his jaw.

“still feel like cleaning that mess now?” he asks lowly, the expression on his face dark and filled with desire as his forehead leans against yours. you know exactly what he wants now. your legs still wrapped around him, his hard erection being felt right against your covered arousal.

your legs didn’t ache anymore, however something else was now aching for him and you craved it so much.

“hmm,” you could simply just hum, voice caught in your throat, before hurriedly pulling him back into your lips again. you had no intentions whatsoever on letting him go. the mess in the bathroom could wait for now. but the boy in front of you, the one that looked at you with such lust and want in this moment, could not wait any longer.

#—ness writes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #nhl fluff #nhl oneshot #nhl fic #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils #nj devils #nhl blurb #luke hughes blurb

1K notes · View notes

ateezscupid · 1 year

Note

can u write a fic where san is a mean dom? i have this thing for calling him sannie bc its cute! and i think it would be hot if he mocked yn calling him that and it was kinda centered around humiliation!!! i love ur writing sm id love to see this done in ur style <333 i hope this doesnt make u uncomfy to write!! ):

- 🕸️

hello hello! i’m getting to this after a very long time, my apologies but i’ve been WAITING for someone to request mean dom!san. he’s been in my mind for a few weeks but i’ve had writers block and could never figure out how to write it out, so thank you for this.

and don’t worry about anything making me uncomfortable! a lot of things, i don’t have a problem writing. i plan to make a really detailed post about my rules and things like that soon so you guys know what i do and don’t write!

anyway, let me stop blabbing. enjoy!

﹟𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ⋆ 𝖼.𝗌𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

plot - san always gets flustered when you call him sannie during sex, but he loves it just as much as you do.

warn - kinda smut w/o plot, dom!san, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, etc.), choking, begging, degrading, humiliation

w/c - n/a

𝗧𝗔𝗚S - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan

you didn’t think today could’ve gotten any worse. you were teasing san the entire day trying to imply you needed him without actually saying it, but he clearly wasn’t catching the signals you sent. he was so busy with work, he couldn’t spare at least ten minutes for you.

you didn’t want to tease him so much that he’d be annoyed of you and he’d stop talking to you for the rest of the night, but you needed him. it’s been a while since the last time you two were together in bed. all you’ve been thinking about for the past week is how his hands would feel on your body; his hands squeezing your breasts and caressing your skin. rubbing the pads of his fingers on your clit and messing with the sensitive little bud that was there.

if anyone had asked you how badly you wanted to spend at least one night with him, you’d ramble on and on about it. you rambled about it to wooyoung the night before and it was clear he didn’t want to listen to your horny problems.

“distract him while he’s working!” is the advice he gave you, and boy, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

now you were face down in the bed with your arms pinned behind you, your makeup smudging on the pillow and your entire body shaking uncontrollably. you thought distracting him would make him realize what he was missing out on, but you did it at the worst moment.

it was embarrassing to say the least. san was in his office having a meeting, and you had the crazy idea to walk inside with nothing but a lingerie on. you’ve been wanting to wear it for a while, so what harm was there to wear it while he was having a business meeting? it was a harmless idea, and hic co-workers wouldn’t have seen you since you planned to go underneath the table. but you messed up.

while you were busy unbuckling his pants, neither of you noticed the top of your head was visible at the bottom of his computer screen. that meant everyone in the call saw yo ur head, and only one thing came to mind. when it was brought to his attention, he excused himself then turned his mic and camera off. you knew a punishment was coming your way when that happened.

he dragged you out of the office without saying anything and threw you on the bed, ripped the lingerie off your body without hesitation, and pounded into you like there was no tomorrow. there was so much going on in your mind, like would his co-workers think you were some sex crazed lunatic? or would they think of him as someone addicted to sex? unprofessional? there wasn’t any room for you to feel bad when you felt too good to remember what happened.

“this is what you wanted, right?” san growled as he pushed your head into the pillow, using his unoccupied hand to land hits against your ass whenever he felt like it. “you wanted to be treated like a slut, now you are, you little whore.”

no words could come out of you. just a bunch of incoherent babbles spilling from your swollen lips and tears falling down your cheeks. you loved when he was so angry all he could do was fuck the lights out of you. you loved him being rough and treating you like a rag doll. it was impossible for you to get over how easily he went inside you and how much he stretched you out. it felt like heaven.

“s-sannie~!” you whine into the pillow, hands curling into fists behind you. “f-fuck, s’good… y-yes!”

“don’t call me that.” he smacked your ass once more and thrusted harder. he was lucky you were facing away from him otherwise you’d see the visible red tint on his cheeks. he liked when you called him sannie, but now wasn’t the time. at least that’s what he told himself.

“such a little whore for me, hm?” he grunts, leaning down and biting your ear gently. “you wanted to mess with me during my meeting and now everyone saw how much of a dirty girl you are~. you wanted attention so bad but ended up embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.”

“i-i—,” even your attempts at forming full sentences failed.

“aw, is it too much?” he whispered in your ear. “you like it when i fuck you like this, huh? such a fucking whore.”

“sannie, p-please i-i can’t—,”

“sannie blah blah blah!” he rolled his eyes and basically forced you to arch your back. “i said not to call me that, and now you’re not listening? you wanna be bad now?”

“s-sa—,” you weren’t even allowed to finish your sentence. the minute you tried to speak, his hand was wrapped around your neck and gripping so hard, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. you loved every bit of it.

“pl-please—!” you whine. “l-let—“

“let you what? cum? after you were being disobedient?” he kissed your temple, groaning softly and letting go of your arms and planting his hand on the bed. “fuck, you feel so good.”

you opened your mouth to speak, which triggered san to tighten his grip around your throat. it was almost too much.

“call me sannie again, i dare you.” the tone in his voice was enough to let you know he wasn’t joking around, but the urge to be a brat was weighing on you.

“s…” you bit your lip. “s-sannieee!”

he didn’t say anything. he took his hand away from your throat and lifted you up by the shoulders, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to rub rough circles around your clit.

“you wanna be a whore? i’ll treat you like one.”

#cupids asks and submits ♡#🕸️ anon ❤︎#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #dom!ateez #dom idol #dom ateez #dom san #dom!san #san x y/n #san scenarios #san smut #choi san

1K notes · View notes