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feyascorner · 4 months

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1 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Sometimes, you wonder if letting him ascend would mean he would still be here, by your side, rather than lurking the shadows of Baldur's Gate.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. very excited about this!!!! I have a lot of ideas on what to do w this plot!!! ALSO there is some material (pressuring??) in this specific chapter that may be a bit uncomfortable for some readers it's very brief, but it is there so please take care of yourself!

As dark spots blur your vision, you realize you can no longer breathe.

His hands–the slender pale fingers you’ve grown to love more than your own–wrap desperately around your throat, digging crescent-shaped indents into your skin. You’d always thought that if he were ever to realize you weren’t as precious to him as he believed you to be, your neck would be the one part of yourself he’d continued to cherish. The softness in which he brushed his fangs against the most vulnerable areas of your throat had led you to believe so.

But as you stare up at him with wide eyes meeting a murderous glare, you understand that you are wrong.

His crimson eyes gleam with an emotion you’ve seen plenty on his pretty face, but never toward a friend. Never to you. You’re going to die, you think. And it wouldn’t have seemed so bad to die at his hands if it were not for the hatred reaching his eyes.

You’re not sure who–maybe Karlach or Wyll–but someone tears him away from you. Your chest dares to tighten from the loss of contact, yet you desperately grasp at the air, hands flying to the tender flesh of your neck while Shadowheart rushes to your side in an instant with her eyes narrowed dangerously at the very man who’d made the dark blemishes.

They’re yelling. Everyone is. At you, out of panic, or at Astarion, you’re not sure, but you just stare at the vampire spawn who’s now unwillingly locked into a life cast into the shadows of the city. He doesn’t look at anyone else, either.

He says something and a few more muffled voices spit back before he throws the dagger you’d given him to the ground, turning to leave. Your hearing clears just in time to hear his parting words.

“I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

A pair of hands shake you awake, and you quickly remember the poor consequences to your back of falling asleep on the empty, narrow street beside the Elfsong tavern. You look up wearily, eyes in a daze as Shadowheart sighs irritably, brows furrowed in a way that tells you to ready yourself for a scolding. “Honestly, at this point, I’m just surprised you haven’t gotten robbed during the night yet.”

You force yourself onto your feet, leaning against the walls as you rub at the crust forming under your eyes. “I have nothing of value anyway. They’re better off stealing from some other poor bard who actually bothers to write songs.”

She raises a brow at this, scanning over your appearance. “Where is your lyre?”

“Sold it,” you shrug, dusting off the muck garnered at the sides of your pants. “Wasn’t much use to me anymore. Better off adding to the funds to rebuild the city, don’t you think?”

Shadowheart frowns, and it makes you look away shamefully. Thankfully, she quickly shakes her head and then paces past you. “Speaking of which, are you in any condition to help today? Gale’s promptly exhausted trying to cast mage hand at least a dozen times yesterday to rebuild the Blushing Mermaid. That foolish wizard nearly passed out by noon.”

“‘Course,” you offer a pathetic smile. “We’re nearly finished with the Baldur’s Mouth. I’ll catch up with you once I check on everyone there.”

“Very well,” she says. She purses her lips after a slight pause. “You should stop falling asleep on the street. Especially since there’s been quite a few murders recently around the city,” she checks to see if you haven’t dazed off, “I expect you to come home tonight–We’re making stew.”

“I will. Don’t think my back can stand much more of this anyway.”

Her shoulders relax the slightest bit, and she finally manages to catch your darting eyes. “Is it the nightmares again? They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”

Your throat goes dry, and you can feel your knees grasping at its remaining strength as you search your mind for a way to respond. You’re tempted to lie through your gritted teeth, knowing she’s fully aware regardless of what pathetic answer you offer her, but you opt to seal your mouth shut, shrugging.

The flash of disappointment in her eyes is enough to make you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. With a curt note, she turns to walk away, glancing back for one last time. “Don’t give him the privilege of occupying a part of your mind for so long. He doesn’t deserve even the dirty filth you have all over yourself.”

For the first time after he nearly killed you and you defeated the Elder Brain four months ago, you think she might be right about him.

Intimacy is not something you like to indulge in after your last lover nearly strangled you to death. Though after the pitiful look your companions gave you when you arrived back at camp and the aching truth in Shadowheart’s words, you find yourself feeling bolder than the last time you dared to call Lae’zel’s cooking inedible (which it was, quite frankly).

He’s handsome. A reasonably tall elf with pale blue eyes glinting with attraction as he stares at you across the tavern. Sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and long hair brushed back and away from his face. You only notice everything else after the silvery shade of his hair–not entirely white, but fairly close, or as close as you could get to it while still being blond. You were sure he was approaching you for your title–the famed hero of Baldur’s Gate–rather than for pure physical attraction, but you weren’t in any position to nitpick at the moment.

You just wanted to feel skin other than the unsettling feeling of your own.

“Seems to have taken a liking to you,” Shadowheart sips at her drink.

Lae’zel glances at you. “He’s tolerable to the eye. Not quite attractive by githyanki standards, but tolerable.”

You stifle a smile at their attempts to urge you forward and put down your drink. “You sure you two won’t be lonely without me?...Or kill each other.”

“You can leave them to me,” Gale smiles, pacing toward your table with his drink. “I’m sure a Hold cast or two would settle them down.”

Lae’zel snatches the cup from his hand. “You act as if you aren’t fresh out of cast slots, wizard.”

Shadowheart shakes her head, nudging you forward. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be long. Certainly won’t be overnight,” you assure her. “I can’t miss the stew, anyway.”

She smiles, and Lae’zel scoffs in the other direction. “Hurry, he looks almost demented waiting for your graces.”

You snort and offer a clumsy glance to the elf across the tavern before striding out the door.

Behind the tavern, he’s quick to press a desperate kiss to your lips, lacking the usual tenderness you experienced with Astarion. Or had it been tender at all? Even now, you’re unsure what parts of him had been to manipulate you and what parts of him had been his raw feelings. At the time, you’d embraced either with open arms–you’d embraced him.

The elf bites at your lip, which snaps you back into the waking world. And while you curse yourself for comparing the moment to him, you find that it’s impossible as you observe that this elf is slightly shorter than he’d been. And instead of his hands wandering to your hip or waist, they graze your behind, pushing you into him in a way that feels nearly suffocating.

And most glaringly, his lips are warm. Not the cold, yet soft lips of an undead being.

You’re grateful that he keeps his eyes closed because you can simply stare at his pale hair, longing for something you vowed to forget.

It doesn’t feel right. Not at all, and you hate yourself for it.

You shove him away, face falling as you realize you want to wipe his touch away from your mouth like it’s filth, and you do. Understandably, he appears puzzled, brows furrowing as you push yourself away from the wall, shaking your head. “Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”

But as you try to walk away, his fingers close around your wrist like a death grip, sending shivers up your spine as you find that you hate the feeling of his skin. You hate the feel of your own skin, too. Why, you’re not sure, but he leans close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheeks and yank you out of your daze. “What’s gotten into you? I didn’t do jack shit.”

“I just can’t do this,” you hiss, tugging at your hand. You could just knock him out, but the hero of Baldur’s Gate punching people as they pleased wouldn’t look too good on your end. “Let go.”

“Well, you have to give me at least an explanation,” he snaps, grip tightening. It hurts. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been sending me looks all night.”

His words seem to snap the remaining patience inside you because you elbow his stomach, shoving him backward onto his ass before pressing your dagger that seemed to appear from thin air into his neck. You haven’t had to use the knife in a while, considering how your biggest recent foe was the stinginess of patrons when it came time to pay their tabs at the tavern. Though it belongs to you, it feels foreign in your hands because, for a time, it had a different owner.

One who used this very blade against you. The same one who taught you how to elbow someone hard enough to make them reel.

“P-Please, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You’d forgotten he was there. “Just let me go, please; I won’t bother you again.”

You drop your head, sighing loudly as you sheathe your dagger once more. You think you must really be losing your mind—threatening to slice open a civilian’s throat despite the significant power imbalance between the two of you. You’re sure the greatest threat he’s faced in his life is from petty theft or something along those lines while you—well, you’re you. It’d be equivalent to a full grown owlbear attacking a goblin with a half broken club.

So, as much as you want to make him bleed just a bit, you opt to step away. “Do that again to anyone—not just me, and I won’t be so forgiving next time. Understand?”

The tremble in his irises tells you enough. You sigh again, turning to leave.

You curse your luck. Of course you would have to attract the foulest person in the tavern on a night where nothing seemed to be going correctly. Or rather, the past four months that haven’t been going as you anticipated.

Getting rid of the tadpole meant you should’ve been free from the chains of someone else—and it had, but at the cost of losing something else. And that ‘something else’ was one you weren’t sure you were ever ready to sacrifice. It should have made you happy to see the Elder Brain fall, and to rid of the squirming feeling in your skull, but all you could remember was the churning in your stomach as you realized the last string tying you to him had been snapped.

You’d gone to every tavern, every bar, playing a tune at each one until the skin at your fingers split open, because he knew you’d be there. He’d known what your lyre meant to you. Yet among the sea of faces, not once had you seen the one you wanted.

As you walk around the corner, you wrap your arms around yourself. Though Summer’s quickly approaching, there’s still a chill in the air this late at night. You pull out your dagger once more, lifting it to the sky to examine its hilt against the moonlight, which glistens with what was once your pride and love. Now, it just looks dull, and faint.

You back feels too light, now lacking the lyre. You suppose you’ll have less of a hassle moving around now, since you don’t have to worry about the strings snapping, but it doesn’t soothe you. Still, you’d sold it for good reason.

An instrument is nothing without a player who can use it, after all.

So you turn your attention back to your dagger, the last crumb he’s left for you to hold dearly to your heart, and then to the trash can perched beside a nearby wall.

You’ve tried a million times before, and you’re not sure what makes you think you’ll be successive this time, but you swallow hard in determination to rid of the thing entirely. But just as you’re about to take your first step toward it, you hear a loud, halting screech muffled instantly.

It’s from the direction you came from.

You’re breaking into a silent sprint, the weapon in your hand ready to be used. You stop before you turn the corner, readying yourself for the worst. A murder? There’ve been more than a few occurring around the city, but you’d thought the Flaming Fist were investigating that already…You can hear your blood rushing in your head, but a crunch of bone and the silence that follows afterward is all you can focus on as your grip on the hilt tightens desperately.

Cautiously, you peer at the moonlit alleyway, poised to attack.

You nearly drop the blade.

Draped in the moonlight with his face hidden by a hood, he nearly glows, though you’re not sure if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. His fangs are buried viciously into the man’s neck, whose legs and arms lie limply at his side while the life in his eyes slips away as if it were never there. And while you don’t dare to breathe, you stare with wide eyes, drinking in his appearance as if it would be the last. A part of you thinks it may be.

But as quickly as your heart begins to race, it calms. A drop of your stomach tells you it’s not him. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or how you know, but you can just tell.

The man finally drops the now lifeless body onto the ground with a thud, wiping at his mouth with the back of his dark sleeve. He turns, and you finally see one of Astarion’s brothers–the one who’d been at the flophouse, confirming your suspicions. Regardless, your guard stays up. “I thought you guys left for the Underdark.”

He snaps his head toward your voice, eyes wide. He looks a lot better than you’d last truly seen his face after Astarion nearly burned him against the sunlight in the flophouse. What had been his name, you try to recall? Pallet? Peter? It doesn’t matter, much. “You were at the flophouse.”

He cringes at the memory but nods. “Petras. You’re the one who stopped Astarion from killing us all, aren’t you?”

Your throat goes dry at that. You’d never thought about it in such a–vulgar way, and it makes your stomach churn, but he doesn’t give you time to respond.

“Dalyria, Leon, and I have decided to stay for the sake of the spawn hiding in the city sewers,” he explains curtly. “My other siblings are in the Underdark with most of the spawn, as you expect them to be.”

You stare at the corpse on the ground, expression twitching as you meet his eyes. “Why’d you kill him?”

He licks his lips, stained with the man’s blood. “I didn’t. Someone did the work for me. I just didn’t let his precious blood go to waste.” He pauses. “I’d put a few rats on betting that it’s Astarion.”

Your eyes go wide, your armed hands dropping to your side. “Astarion? He was here?”

You’d been here mere moments ago. Had he seen you? Was he watching you?

“Maybe. Judging from how quickly he ran away from the scene when he saw me, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Shoving your dagger into its rightful place on your back, you immediately turn to search for your former companion. He couldn’t have gone far. You’d been talking to the dead man mere minutes ago, and if the death occurred between now and then, he couldn’t have possibly gone more than a few buildings away–

“I never got to thank you.”

Petras looks at you anxiously, and as much as you’d like to cut the conversation short, the way he shifts nervously can’t help but keep you in place.

“There’s no need,” you reply, stopping to shake your head. You hadn’t done it for him or any of his siblings, for that matter, anyway. Not even for Astarion. Your choice to stop had been for yourself, to keep him by your side. Your brows furrow at the selfishness draping your thoughts—that you were willing to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls for the sake of protecting the one you loved. It was a lapse of judgement. Naivety. “It’s just how things turned out.”

He tilts his head but doesn’t push it any further. “Have you seen him recently? Astarion?”

“...No. He left after we—I killed Cazador.”

His eyes flicker with disappointment, and you wonder if he’s forgiven Astarion for what he tried to do in Cazador’s dungeon. “He’s always been good at hiding. Seems some things never change.”

You nod numbly. “I’ll let you know if I do see him.”

Though you doubt you ever will. Not after how things ended. But if there’s a slight chance, even the smallest of hopes, that you can bring closure to the sleepless nights you spend on the streets, staring up at a sky that no longer brightens the way it used to, you’re willing to wait until you’re shriveled up and old, while he remains beautiful.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

The painful clench in your heart doesn’t go ignored. “Have you spoken with him?”

“Once,” he says. “But it seems he doesn’t want to speak with us anymore either. You see, our conversation didn’t quite end in a happy family reunion. We did manage to ask him a few things—like asking if he was to be staying with you.”

“And?” You’re afraid to hear the answer, but your voice is far too hopeful.

Petras gives you a look of pity, and you understand.

You understand that no matter how long you wait or how long you search for him, Astarion will not be seen when he does not want to be.

“I don’t think he wants to see you right now.”

For the rest of the night, you weep. You weep in the comforts of nobody but your own arms and nobody to hear you but the moon above.

Baldur’s Gate is by no means a city that sleeps. The past four months have been a restless cycle of rebuilding the city, and while you’ve done your part, no matter how much you do, it never seems enough.

“Oh, welcome, dear. Your friends have been a wonderful help for my house as of late,” the lady of the Highberry’s Home, Cora Highberry, ushers you into her house, still missing a roof and half the windows but appearing in better shape than most other structures in the city. She offers you a wine glass. “Do you have a preference?”

“Anything’s fine,” you smile, but just as you reach for the glass, it’s snatched away by a familiar wizard’s hand.

Gale extends Cora a gentle nod and that charming grin of his as he hands her back the wine. “While we greatly appreciate your hospitality, I’m afraid my friend here is in no condition to drink as of now.”

The playful roll of your eyes makes Cora laugh. “Ah, of course. But do know I’m so grateful for all your help. I didn’t imagine we would be building the home back for the orphans so quickly!”

“It’s the least we could do,” Gale beams. “Now then, my dear friend and I will continue working on the second floor, so just give us a holler if you need us.”

He whisks you away toward the stairs before you can wave goodbye to the woman. While you’d expect him to initiate conversation, he doesn’t say anything until you arrive upstairs, where you’re mostly alone beside the few other volunteers in the other room. You tilt your head when he finally paces past you toward one of the broken windows. “Gale Dekarios keeping his mouth shut for more than a few moments? The city truly must be falling apart.”

He cracks a smile at this, dusting off a few glass shards from the windowsill. “I’m glad to see you still have your sense of charm.”

“When have I ever lacked my charm?”

He doesn’t lift his head, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through a few pages while you survey the state of the room. “You didn’t return last night.”

You tense.

“It would be wise to be grateful Karlach’s still in Avernus with Wyll, because I’m certain she would’ve given you quite the scolding for daring to miss my world-famous Wizard’s Stew,” he says lightly, his tone morphing into something more serious when he shifts his gaze in your direction. “We’re worried about you, you know. Especially Shadowheart, even if that woman doesn’t know what gentle means in every possible level of hell.”

He’s silently asking you for an explanation, and your heart breaks at how gently he prods at your walls, giving you an opportunity to slip away again. But with how his eyes plead at you, you can’t imagine that would be possible anyway. Slowly, you perch yourself on the windowsill, looking down at the bustling crowd working together to rebuild the Highberry’s porch. They’re laughing—some face red with wine, while others scold them for it. You see a bard playing a tune you haven’t heard before, but it’s effective in lifting the mood regardless, and you finally glance at Gale.

“I met one of Astarion’s brothers yesterday.”

His face is grim. “I didn’t realize they were still in the city.”

“Me neither,” you sigh. “Some of them stayed. From what I could tell, they're mostly in the sewers, but they’re definitely here.”

“Did he seem…hostile?”

“No. He just asked me about Astarion.” You leave out the part about the dead body.

Gale’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything, only silently urging you to continue. And you do.

“He doesn’t want to see me. Not ever, I think.”

There it is. The same gaze everyone seems to give you lately: pity.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you hop off the windowsill, pacing across to the other side of the room. “If he doesn’t want to see me, I won’t. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t. I’m tired of waiting for him, Gale. I’m tired of waiting for someone who won’t ever come.”

And despite the puffiness of your eyes last night, and despite the way your eyes gloss over even now, you offer him a crooked smile. “I want to focus on the city now, for better or worse.”

Gale appears the happiest he’s been since returning a few months ago with the news that Mystra has healed him of his orb. “You thought well, dear friend. You should know how glad we are to have you back. We could certainly use more hands in the kitchen, as well, considering—well, you know how the rest of our companions are with cooking.”

Just as you open your mouth, there’s an ear-shattering scream from downstairs. The two of you meet wide eyes briefly before hurrying downstairs.

Only a few feet from the patio of the Highberry home, there’s a crowd gathering with hushed whispers and the weeping of a woman. And when you manage to push through the mountain of people, you finally see the corpse.

Cora Highberry sobs over what remains of her bloody husband, who, without a doubt, has the markings of two fangs punctured through his throat.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #bg3 x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers

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ferrstappen · 1 year

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max, don't panic l Max Verstappen blurb

a/n: he'd absolutely stop his car bc 1) what's a couple of points for this man? he's going to gain them back while sleeping; 2) this man PROTECTS you cannot tell me otherwise.

also, pls if anyone knows how to turn this blog (sideblog) into the main? my main is full of Shawn Mendes fics and on a permanent hiatus so I'll take any advice pls. anyway... I tried my best bc for some reason driver!reader is not my fav trope? but anyway, hope you enjoy <3

genre: kinda dramatic? angst? idk. request is here.

warnings: car crash.

pairing: Max Verstappen x driver!reader.

max, don´t panic – max verstappen blurb

The private but not secret applied to you and your boyfriend perfectly. Even if you didn't walk around hand I hand in the paddock, you always arrived together, bright smiles, sometimes riding the same car or blinded SUV, even arriving on the same planes.

This wouldn't be exactly controversial, but giving the fact you both were Formula 1 drivers, Max for Red Bull and you for Ferrari, yeah, it was a big thing. Especially since you and another driver in Williams were the only girls, people's eyes were always on you, obviously laced with criticism, sexism and misogyny, and of course everyone was waiting and constantly asking about which driver was the most handsome, if something had happened between you or any of the male drivers.

It wasn't pretty.

So Charles Leclerc had to miss a triple header due to an injury which costed him a surgery, you were briefly promoted to the Scuderia from Haas. The only thing you or anyone in the garage heard during the last few days was why you, why not Ferrari's own reserve driver? why not a driver with more experience? of course the lacing question was, why not a male driver?

You didn't need the press and public to keep speculating as your last Sunday driving for Ferrari arrived, even if sports sites stated the only reason you were chosen was because of your "especial friendship" with Max Verstappen, because it didn't make any sense otherwise. Of course Max rolled his eyes every time he heard something about it, forcing to bit his tongue to tell someone to fuck off, the fact you had been dating for now nine months had absolutely nothing of your job and performance.

It wouldn't help your case very much, having to calm him down on your shared hotel room. Well, it wasn't exactly shared, you just left you room vacant and made it to Max's to spend the night, sleeping in his warm embrace and messy kisses, trying to not exhaust your bodies in order to not be overly tired during race day.

Now, Sunday. Oh boy.

Before pulling your helmet, you found Max's eyes across the garage, doing a small sign with your fingers which Max matched, a secret language reserved for the both of you, expressing your love and preoccupation in front of everyone who was oblivious to the love language displayed in plain sight.

Then the race started and it was ordinary; good weather, good pace. But during lap twenty something happened.

You didn't really register when an Aston Martin car made contact with your rear wing, making you lose control and also getting hit by a Mercedes on the left side, which sent you flying through the gravel.

Fuck.

Your eyes closed as you felt the car spinning, waiting to make contact with the wall, trying to relax your body and mind, knowing injuries would be even more serious after the impact if her body was limp enough. Then it happened, you stopped rolling, the sound of gravel and tires stopped; radio wasn't working, though it wouldn't really work since you couldn't find your voice.

Max was on other sector, Gianpiero telling him to expect a red flag. At the same time, his eyes fixed on the screen and noticed the unmistakable red car flying and crashing.

Max was a man prepared for anything on the race track. Seriously, you could throw anything at him and Max would remain calm and collected, his body and mind not having to even think before making a move.

But this... this he wasn't prepared for.

"Which Ferrari was that?" Max asked through the radio, voice masking a slight panic.

"I don't have that information, yet. I'll let you know, now focus on slowing down, please, red flag red flag,"

"Is the driver okay?" Max completely ignored the other instructions given to him.

"No word, Max. Please," GP was cut off.

"Please tell me who's Ferrari is it!"

"Sainz was on the pit, it's (Y/N)'s Ferrari. Max, you can't speed up,"

Max ignored him. Of course, he knew better than to get in the way of the safety car and medical cars rushing, also noticing a green figure trying to get closer to the car, also noting a Mercedes and Aston with damages.

"Max, come to the pit, please," GP had many many experiences dealing with Max, but this was new. "Max, you are not going to help, you will only obstruct and put the car and yourself in danger,"

Max was covered in chills, watching the wrecked Ferrari, trapped against the wall, no movement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is completely unheard of. This is by far the worst accident during this season, but Red bull's Max Verstappen drove his car towards the crash, ignoring the red flag and his engineer. We don't now what's going on, how is the driver, as you can see it's a mess," That's what the audience was hearing and watching.

Ignoring everything, Max prompted himself up, leaving the car and reaching the medical car, trying to get someone to connect him to the Ferrari radio, knowing her radio was probably dead.

Time stopped, and then he saw you being carried, barely conscious but giving a thumbs up, and he felt like he could collapse and cry and laugh, all at the same time.

"I'm riding with her," Max stepped inside the ambulance, knowing pictures were being captured and broadcasted of him kissing your temple and holding your hand.

#max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #f1 fanfic

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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His Muse

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader Warnings: Yandere Bakugou, Obsessive Tendencies, psychoanalyst therapist reader, smut, extremely dubious consent, stalking, kindapping (tagging to be safe), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampies, kitchen sex, strength kink, threats of violence (not to reader). please let me know if I missed anything! Word Count: 6.5k Notes: this isn't a more violent yandere fic, and has lots of bargaining and dub con, just as a warning!! but I can't believe I came up with this idea in November omg I move so slow when it comes to full fics. also I tried gradient style for the title and I love it lol it was so fun to try. anyway, please enjoy!! Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI! Also available on ao3!

When Bakugou comes to you to be his therapist, you don’t think twice about it. He filled out his application correctly, he answered when you called, his insurance went through, his problems sounded legit. You had become wary taking on new patients in your field—dealing with criminals, those with hardened and extensive records, people with all kinds of issues that an everyday therapist wouldn’t be able to handle accordingly. But you did it all (someone had to), so your vetting process was a little heavier than usual, if the therapy wasn’t state mandated.

But Bakugou Katsuki passed with flying colors. If anything, he sounded a little too normal for your line of work, but he kept promising that his issues would be better discussed during sessions. With a little hesitance, you agree and take him on.

He’s…okay, for the most part. A little gruff, rough around the edges and snappy when you try to touch on certain topics of his life. But in general, he’s a great patient; he pays on time, shows up five minutes early, doesn’t linger when your next patient comes buzzing, doesn’t try to touch you or seek out personal information from you.

If anything, he still seems a bit too strait-laced for you. That is, until he starts to delve into why he really wants to come to therapy—to deal with his tendencies of rage, lashing out, and obsession. You had told him that you didn’t deal much with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but he had assured you that, no, his obsessions and compulsions weren’t about checking the locks a certain amount of times on a Wednesday, but instead about people.

He obsessed over people, and when things wouldn’t go his way, his rage would rear its ugly head. He still hasn’t told you what his rage specifically looks like, especially with how he momentarily glances over at your little message pinned on your wall that warns people about admitting criminal acts that you’d have to report, damn the confidentiality.

“When did these obsessions start?” You ask him, body tilted toward him even though your eyes and hands move to your open computer. You document what he says, take note of it all, skimming over previous notes from other appointments.

“Maybe about eighteen months ago?” Bakugou’s voice is gravelly, deep and grating against the column of his throat. As he answers, he shoves his hands in his sweats pockets, scoots down a little further on your adjacent couch, looks around the room as if he hadn’t been in here a few times before.

“So this is a more recent development?” You ask, humming under your breath and nodding when he grunts an affirmation. You type, obsessive tendencies over people started less than two years ago, could be trauma based, and you wonder if he can read the words through the reflection of your glasses when you look over to see his eyebrows screwed down.

“Was it sudden for you?” You cock your head to the side, before shaking your head. “Let me rephrase; did these tendencies ever show their faces in other aspects of your life? Different time periods, situations? Or was it just a sudden thing that happened, something you realized once the obsession had already begun?” He starts nodding his head before you can even finish, his ash blond bangs shadowing his eyes for a second in such a way that sends a prickle of chills up your arms. You don’t know why, so you try to swallow the feeling down until it burns at the back of your throat, shifting a little in your cushioned seat. Bakugou watches you for a second before he opens his mouth to speak.

“It was sudden.” He answers, plainly, doesn’t offer up much else until you cock an eyebrow at him, signaling for him to go on. He rolls his eyes and huffs under his breath, shifting again before he shrugs dramatically with his hands still in his pockets.

“I dunno, I was fuckin’ normal until I wasn’t.” You chuckle a little at his tone, crossing your legs under the desk, watching how Bakugou’s vermillion eyes dart down to catch the sight of them, before they slide back up to your face.

“You’ve been in a relationship before?” You state more than ask, eyebrows slid high on your face in question, watching Bakugou roll his eyes a little before he nods.

“Yeah.” He offers, his mouth set in a thin line, obviously not wanting to offer up too much information on the topic.

“How many?” You push. How the hell does he expect you to help him when he keeps giving you short answers, nothing to work with? Why even seek out your help if he acts like being here is such a nuisance to deal with?

“Two.” Bakugou says through gritted teeth, eyes cutting at the decorations you have hung on the walls. “What does this have to do with anything, anyway?” He spits, cuts his eyes at you once more as you narrow your own at him.

“I’m trying to find a connection between your sudden obsessive tendencies with your relationships with people in the world.” You clarify for him, sitting up a little in your seat as his own irritation bubbling off of him starts to sink into your pores, too.

“People rarely have sudden personality flips and switches with no leading causes beforehand. Did these tendencies start because of preexisting mommy issues that were suddenly uncovered after being repressed for years? Were you in a long and committed relationship, which ended in such a way that it wasn’t necessarily on your terms, even if it was ultimately your own call? Was it an accident you were in? Have you always been like this and never realized it? Do you understand what I’m saying, Katsuki?”

…

Bakugou isn’t taking in a single word that you’re telling him. He wishes he could; he’s sure you’re saying some real shit that he should most likely take into consideration. But its so hard to focus when you look at him like that, when your neck rolls a little with every word, when your foot bounces under the desk, the way your lips curve just so.

You’re the reason he’s even here right now. The bane of his fuckin’ existence, but also the only thing that matters to him in the world.

You are his obsession. His muse, his fantasy, his daydream turned reality. And it’s all your fucking fault. With how you prance around your home with your curtains open, wearing nothing but slutty little shirts and no bra, no pants, just panties that sink into the curves of your ass and thighs. How you just go about your life without a care in the fucking world, always so oblivious to everything around you.

You hadn’t even noticed him, the months he spent watching over you. Didn’t catch his lingering stares, or how his ash blond head of hair always seemed to be at least ten feet behind you with every step you took. How your long time neighbor from across the hall suddenly disappeared, how a new tenant moved in when he knew you’d be out. How you forget entirely too often to lock your door, to put your used panties in the hamper. How you tease him with everything, how you’ve been fucking leading him on for over a year and a half now.

So, he had to get desperate. Had to search you up and find what qualifications he needed in order to be seen by you, a psychoanalytical therapist for those who want to be reformed.

But Bakugou had no plans on reformation. There was nothing for him to be reformed on. He just wanted you, and goddamnit, if he wasn’t going to have you.

“I understand you, doc. Loud and clear.”

***

It was your day off, and you had plans on spending it in your bed, catching up on some reading and maybe finishing that one show you started a while ago. But, lunch time came around, and you were craving something specific and didn’t have all the ingredients that you needed. You figured you could go out to the grocery store to grab them, get some fresh air on the way there, and maybe stop at that book shop you had been eyeing for a while.

You get ready quickly, closing your front door behind you, pausing for a second to stare at the door across the hall. You still can’t believe Ms. Hayashi had so suddenly moved out, especially after living in this complex since it was first built. She hadn’t even said goodbye, and you never got the chance to return the Tupperware she lended you.

It wouldn’t have been as weird if someone hadn’t supposedly moved in the next day. You were a gossip with your landlord, a nice older lady, and she gave you all up the updates on the people who lived in the complex. She had said that he was a nice guy, kind of scary and intimating in stature, but respectful the whole time. Said that he didn’t even look at the apartment before giving her the first six months rent and despot in cash. She told you to ever call her if you smelled meth cooking from that apartment, as no one who works a regular job just has that kind of money laying around.

You shrug to yourself, coming to the conclusion that maybe the new owner just needed to get out of town, away from somewhere or someone else. Everyone has their reasonings, and you can’t analyze every single move someone you haven’t even met before has ever made.

You continue down the steps until you’re out of the building, unaware of the crimson eyes that follow your every movement. The walk to the store is a little longer than you’d like for it to be, but you figure that the exercise can do you some justice, and it’s always nice being out in nature. You stop and pick a flower that grows from a crack in the sidewalk, twirling it in your finger the whole way to the store, finally tucking it behind your ear when you have to grab a grocery cart.

And still—and still—you don’t see the eyes that watch you. The figure that follows your every move, that disappears behind walls and aisles every time you turn your back. You feel it though, he can tell, because you move a little quicker and look over your shoulder more than usual.

You go to the self checkout, trying to hurry now, as an uneasy feeling starts to wash over you. You get these often, especially working in the field that you do with the patients that you choose to take on—hardened criminals, fresh out of jail and still ready to harm society, people that just like to see the world burn for the fun of it.

The therapist is typically one of the first few people to be taken out, after parents. You’re always too high on the list for your liking, despite loving your job.

You keep trying to scan an item, but it’s not working, and that only makes your panic settle in deeper into your bones. You try to remember the techniques that you give people when they start to feel overwhelmed by their emotions and what goes on in their heads, but its hard when that sinking feeling only grows deeper and heavier by the moment until—

“Need some help with that?” You jump away quickly, eyes wide as you hold up the can of soup you were gripping tightly like a weapon. You let out a breath though, only in slight relief, to see that its one of your patients standing beside you—Bakugou Katsuki. He looks different than he usually does in your sessions together; he’s wearing a tight compression shirt that hugs his wide shoulders, navy blue in color, sweatpants that wrap around the thick muscles in his thighs, and plain running shoes.

For some reason though, the panic in your stomach doesn’t fully quell at the sight of him.

“No, I got it. Thanks though, Bakugou.” You tell him politely, smiling shakily. Why does the sight of him unnerve you so bad? You’ve run into patients before on the street, and they never make you feel like this, this uneasy, even when it was dark and you were dressed more scantily than you are now, with your baggy pants and too big shirt.

“You sure?” He grunts, cocking his head at you as he gently pries the can from your still tight grip. “I watched you struggle with it for like, two minutes. Let me.” He tells you, never taking his eyes off of you as he scans your item easily enough. He only looks away when he bags it for you, and starts to scan the rest of your things as if you weren’t standing there.

“Oh no, it’s okay, I can finish that myself.” You wave him off him with a shaky smile, finally breaking out of your stupor when he’s damn near finished. You reach out to stop him, but Bakugou only waves you away with a grunt.

“’S alright. It’s the least I can do for you helping me figure my crazy out.” Bakugou shrugs at you, a joke you’re presuming, as he glances over at you with a tiny lilt at the corner of his mouth. It calms you, only for a second, before something ever so slightly changes in his eyes, in the way he looks at you and takes you in, makes you feel like something sinister is sinking deep into your bones. Your stomach tightens again, and you have to force a smile when he finishes, before it drops when you see him reaching for his wallet.

“Oh, I really can’t let you pay for my groceries.” You tell him, stepping up to him before pausing when he looks at you out of the corner of his eye with an expression so terrifying, that it makes stone drop into the pit of your belly.

“Let me.” Bakugou tells you more than asks you, and you nod slowly, swallowing the thickness that has settled into the back of your throat. You can only watch as he pulls out a wad of cash, counting through it before inserting it into the machine, mouth set in a thin line all the while. You try to take him in, figure out where his own groceries are to be in this section, where all this money is coming from, if his address that he put on the file is even anywhere near this area.

It’s not.

“Cmon.” Bakugou snaps you out of your trance, big veiny hands holding all of your groceries as he nods his head to the exit. You’re stuck there, wondering if this is really happening, if these are just boundaries being crossed or a crime about to be committed. You feel tears stinging at your eyes as you try to blink them away, hiccuping slightly as you slowly shake your head.

“Please give me my groceries, Bakugou.” You don’t even recognize your own voice, soft and shaky and purely terrified. Bakugou fixes you with another deadly expression but this time—this time he smiles at you, and its everything but friendly. All big white teeth and too sharp incisors, all falsely charming and all weaponry, all threat with no escape from his drooling maw.

“I think we should go home, now. Don’t you?” He asks you with a cock of his head, body still turned to the exit, his stature eery with how the veins in his neck throb with every second you stay rooted in your spot. “Before something happens to these nice people in here, right? Before they have to bear witness to a massacre, all because you don’t want to walk home with me.”

You have to bite back your sob that bubbles up in your throat. You’re terrified of what will happen to you, but you’re a caretaker first. You have to put yourself before these people, put yourself before the monster that wants you as a sacrifice before he burns an entire village down for you.

So you nod, and take the hand offered to you as he switches the groceries to one hand, just to squeeze yours in the other.

You leave out of the grocery store with tears muddled in your eyes, a quivering chin that you try to conceal, hope no one wants to be a hero and find themselves hurt, or worse, because you can’t school your expressions.

This was taught in a psychology course you took in college, you remember. One of your classes after you started working on your highest degree—what to do in real life situations as a psychologist. How to avoid more conflict when a patient is erratic. How to deescalate. How to survive.

Everything you’ve ever learned has gone out the window now.

You and Bakugou walk down the street hand in hand, looking like a normal couple for the most part, besides your trembling jaw and shaky steps. You glance up to him, watching him squint in the sunlight before he glances down at you, squeezing your hand gently, as if to comfort you, as if he weren’t the cause of your panic. You notice that he’s walking right in the direction of your apartment, as if the route were memorized.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask shakily, mouth full of cotton as Bakugou keeps his head forward, grinning. He glances at you again, eyes bouncing between the delicate flower tucked behind your ear, and the terrified expression your eyes carry.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, doesn’t offer up anymore information until you stand outside of your building. “You know, for you to be a therapist to fuckin’ weirdos, you don’t watch your back good enough for my liking.”

You didn’t think your stomach could sink any lower, but it does. It does when the realization settles, when his words kick in—that he’s been watching you, but for how long? How could you not have noticed? Did he even contact you because he needed help, or was this only a way to grow closer to you, to his obsession?

Before you know it, Bakugou has walked you up the stairs until you reached your floor. Your body turns to instinctively to your door, but you’re pulled in the other direction.

“Wha—” you go to ask Bakugou, before you notice he’s set your groceries down to fiddle with the key to…to the apartment across the hall from you. You feel the tears flood again, letting them flow this time since no one is around to try and save you and put themselves in harms way anymore.

“It’s been you? This whole time?” You ask slowly, starting to pull away when Bakugou opens the door to Ms. Hayashi’s apartment, still decorated the same before she mysteriously disappeared—you don’t think its so mysterious anymore.

“Of course it’s been me.” Bakugou scoffs as he grips your hand tighter, pulling you closer until you near the doorway. “I had to watch over you—do you know how careless you are with everything? With your life?” He snarls, whirling around on you when you plant your feet and try to keep him from pulling you into his lions den. Bakugou is all snarls and teeth, invokes such a deep fear within you that you can’t help but shrink under his gaze.

“Now come on. I’ve been waiting for this for entirely too long.” His voice is downright salacious, eyes turning sharp and hungry, and in a way that makes you feel like nothing more than hunted prey.

Bakugou damn near drags you within the apartment, despite your whimpering and pulling at him—he’s just too strong. He walks you a few feet inside before he dumps the groceries on a coffee table, finally letting go of your hand so that he can lock the door, emerging a key from his sweatpants pocket to one of the many, many locks, an insurance policy of you never leaving him unless he allows it.

You try to put on your therapist boots for a minute, swallowing your fear as you try to reason with him, swallowing thickly when he turns around and takes your trembling form in.

“Bakugou,” you start shakily, “this doesn’t have to end bad for us. You can just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t report you, or anything. Please, please, PLEASE!”

He comes rushing at you before you know it, on you in seconds, despite trying to turn and outrun him before he pounces. But it’s too late and he’s too big and too overwhelming, and he grabs you up in his arms, shushing your screaming with his mouth pressed against yours.

So this is what he wants, you think to yourself, terrified to say you’re slightly relieved. You’ve worked with men who liked to torture women for fun, and you were scared that he was secretly one of them, but it looks like he just wants—

“You.” Bakugou whispers with a swallow against your mouth, hot and breathy. “I want you so fuckin’ bad, wanted this for so long, fuck.” He’s wrapping you up within him in seconds, arms crushing your ribs, tongue sneaking into your mouth, hands grabbing handfuls of whatever he can reach.

You’re stunned, mostly. Finally putting the pieces together of everything that is Bakugou, his coming to you about his obsessions, his secrecy despite needing your help, the way he always looked at you, how he devours you now like a mere schoolboy. It all makes sense now. You pull away from him, eyes round and wide as you take in his lowered ones, how he dives back in to nip at your jaw and chin and cheek.

“I’m your obsession.” You whisper shakily, hands on his shoulders, despite them making no moves to move the large man back. Bakugou groans at that, damn near sinks to his knees at your realization, wraps you up even tighter as he buries his face into the skin of your neck.

“Fuckin’ finally. Thought you would’ve caught on sooner by now, dumbass.” He scolds you, licking up the expanse of your skin as you shiver and try to back away. But Bakugou only holds you tighter, and you whimper at the bulge that nudges your hip.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve—could’ve worked on exposure therapy, had someone there to monitor you for our safety, could’ve—”

“Too much work. I just want you.” Bakugou moans, nipping at your skin, grabbing handfuls of your ass when you squeak. He walks you backwards until your back meets a wall, the breath being knocked out of you as you gasp, eyes wide when he finally pulls away from your skin.

You’ve never seen him like this, all fucked out and relaxed and even a little excited. Always saw him with a bored or irritated expression, one of indifference. But now, Bakugou looks high on euphoria, with kiss swollen lips and low eyelids as he takes in your still shocked expression.

“Let me taste you,” Bakugou rushes out in a quick breath, diving in once more to lick at your mouth before he pulls away, big hands squeezing at your waist and ass excitedly. He’s like a dog with a bone, like a pup with no master, waiting for you to give the command, the permission to go.

You wonder if you have more control of this situation than you originally thought. So you try your hand, see how far you can push before you can wiggle your way out of this entire thing and get the chance to call the police.

“Bakugou,” you start, quickly being cut off by him with a sharp nip to your chin.

“Katsuki,” he corrects. You nod.

“Katsuki, if I—if I let you do this, this one thing of…of tasting me, will you promise to let me go?” You try to reason with him, cupping his cheek when his eyes wander over your form instead of your face, leaning into your touch instinctively.

“We can,” you pause with a swallow. “I can do this. I can create a therapy plan for you, for your obsession over me, and it can be fully consenting and healthy, but you have to let me help you and let me take control.” You try to reason with Bakugou, hope he understands what you’re saying, that he won’t catch on to this just being a trick. But he only groans and turns his head, sucking your thumb into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at your gasp before he releases you with a pop. He turns half lidded vermillion eyes to you, frowning as he rests his heavy head in your palm.

“Whatever you fuckin’ say, just let me taste you, goddamnit.” He mutters petulantly. You can only hold your breath, wonder if what you’re agreeing will hurt you in the long run before you nod.

“You can—you can taste me, Katsuki.”

You think you might’ve sealed the deal with a devil, with the way you can practically see horns protruding from his forehead and a tail flickering behind him when he drops to his knees. Bakugou is too quick for your liking, yanks your pants around your ankles too fast, hurries you out of them, rips your underwear away from your skin until it tears and falls limply in a pile on the floor.

You squeak when his face is suddenly pressed right against your cunt, his nose buried into your pubic hair, the sound of a big sniff echoing throughout the room. You can’t help but cringe, but don’t dare push him away—people need to be exposed to all aspects of things in order to overcome them, even if those things are sniffing what lies between your legs.

“Fuck, smells so good.” Bakugou grunts under his breath, huffing a few times before he forces your legs further apart until you can accommodate the wide expanse of his shoulders. You grunt from the stretch, trying to make yourself comfortable, but Bakugou picks up on it quickly, and grabs your knee to hike your leg over his shoulder to rest on.

It creates a better angle for him anyway, with your lips glistening with your arousal—you were aroused. Turned on by him just as much as he was with you. You were wet, even if it’s not as much as he would prefer, as he would get you to that amount in only a matter of time.

You throbbed when his tongue traced the hood of your clit, of your lips, your folds. You twitch hard against his mouth when he keeps licking and licking at you, until your slickness and his spit mingle and he doesn’t know where you end and where he begins. Until it makes a mess of his mouth and chin and the floor below him, and you, with your pretty moans and grabbing hands.

Bakugou has waited for this moment longer than he can really care to remember, at this point in time. Waited to worship you on his knees, be able to look up from between your soft thighs and see the scrunch of your brows when he sucks your clit between his lips and runs over it with the flatness of his tongue.

It’s an addictive feeling, really. Makes him feel higher than any drug could ever take him, makes his eyes roll back and his cock throb so hard that he has to grab it from beneath his sweats to keep from busting his load already.

You can only stand there and take it—take the incessant licking around your hole, and the dipping of his tongue inside of you, and the sweet little kisses he plants on your clit. You try to reason with yourself, convince yourself that this is an improvised session with a client that needed your help so badly that you decided to take him on your day off. Try to tell yourself that this is all apart of the therapy that he needs in order to get over you.

You only hope that the taste of you doesn’t become so addictive, that your plans for him will go flying out the window the moment you try to reason with him.

But its hard to reason even with yourself when Bakugou is sliding a thick, middled finger inside of your dripping hole as he noisily sucks your clit between his lips. You cry out at that, knees wobbling, but he’s there to catch you with his free hand, his shoulder. Holds you up steady like a pillar as he lashes his tongue against you, twists his finger, curves it slowly, before he’s adding another one before you can even register what’s happening to you.

“Shit, Katsuki,” you moan out, cursing yourself for letting him make you feel so good, for getting so wrapped up in this ‘therapy’. You can only hope that the board doesn’t take your license if they were to ever find out about it.

“Thats it, baby, ride my fingers just like that.” Bakugou breaks you out of your trance with his groan. You hadn’t even realize how your hips were moving against him, grinding down on his digits that curl up inside of you, that slide against that swelling spot that makes your knees weak and your eyes cross.

“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” Bakugou whispers against your mound, trailing spit from his mouth down to your clit once more, eyes never leaving the pleasured look on your face.

Did you know he imagined this, in damn near every session he’s ever had with you? While it wasn’t plenty of sessions (he had only started seeing you about six months ago), it was all he could think of. Every Tuesday at 2:45pm, in office number 218, first door on the right, the mint green office—all he could think of was you. Even when you asked him questions with a professional and friendly smile, even when you were covered head to toe, even when you ripped him a new one for his shitty answers and responses.

This was all he wanted, all he craved to see. The way your mouth dropped open when he starts damn near directing you in how he wants you to ride his fingers. How your hips move and swivel and tremble when he keeps bringing his fingers close to his face, inside of you. How you grip so tightly at his hair and pull when he won’t stop sucking and licking and messily kissing your clit. How he damn near makes out with your hole, tongue drooling and smacking against your soaked skin until he feels himself about to burst in his pants.

This was all he wanted, and Bakugou always gets what he wants. Even if its you—especially if it’s you.

“I’m—oh, I think I’m—shit!” Your brain is damn near fried when you start to orgasm, an earth shattering moan slipping from your throat as you throw your head back, hips bucking against Bakugou’s face and hands. He has to hold your entire body up steadily, fears that you may fall from how hard you’re coming, how you shake in his arms.

His fingers are steady inside of you, and only slows when you start to finally come down from your high. Bakugou kisses the inside of your thigh sweetly, nibbles at it when you groan and complain about feeling too weak from the intensity. But that’s not a problem for him at all.

“Hey—what are you—” Bakugou cuts you off with a wet kiss pressed to your mouth when he stands to his full height. His tongue slides against yours and you can’t help but moan when you taste yourself on him. He doesn’t give you a chance to step away and try to slink back to your own apartment, instead hoisting you up quickly in his arms as he starts to walk to a room behind you.

Before you can protest, you’ve been dumped on the kitchen table, Bakugou pressing you down with a hand to your sternum when you try to sit up, shooting you another one of those eery looks from earlier. You still instantly, before slowly lowering yourself back down on the table, eyes wide again when he levels you with a stare for a beat longer before he steps back to yank his shirt over his head.

“I thought,” you mumble, trying not to stare at how well built Bakugou is, how his biceps might literally be bigger than your entire head. “I thought that we agreed for you to only, um, taste me, and then you’d stop.” Its hard finding your voice when Bakugou stares at you like that again, not scarily, but hungry like before. Hard to fight back and push him away when he grabs your shirt in two hands and rips and pulls until your torso is exposed, like the fabric meant nothing to him.

You clench your thighs at the display of strength and hope that he doesn’t notice. (He does).

Bakugou shrugs at you, pulls your bra down until your tits are on display, grabbing a handful of each and massaging them in warm, sweaty palms. He ducks his head down and gives a sweet kiss to both of your nipples, licking one crudely before he stands back up to his full height, your breasts still in his hands. You think he must’ve forgotten what you said, or simply didn’t care to answer, but he surprises you when he squeezes your tits tightly and speaks,

“Think I need a little more exposure before I have to be reduced to doses only, doc.” Is all Bakugou gives you, squeezing your chest one last time before he pulls away. You try not to show the panic on your face when he reaches to pull his sweats down until they bunch around his corded thighs, cock damn near bursting from its confinements.

Bakugou reaches inside of his boxers, biting at his bottom lip when he touches it directly for the first time since he’s gotten you, groans a little at your gasp when he fully exposes himself. He’s thick, curved a little to the side, his head a dark flushed color, a fat vein forking up the side of his shaft. He rests his cock over you, makes a soft little noise in the back of his throat when the precum slides from his tip and pools in the dip of your bellybutton.

“Shit, I love you so fuckin’ much,” Bakugou mutters under his breath as he positions himself at your entrance. Your eyes bulge at his confession, but before you can even touch on what he’s said, he’s already sliding his way inside of you.

Your head falls against the kitchen table, the dull pain quiet compared to the overwhelming pleasure that settles low in your pelvis. You groan, thighs hooked around Bakugou’s waist as he fucks his way inside of you, a moan on his tongue as he watches the way your lips split and suck him inside so, so sweetly.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t wait anymore,” Bakugou mutters against your mouth. As he soon as he settles inside of you, he’s pulling out until his tip kisses your entrance, before he fucks his way back in. You shudder, his cock warm and heavy inside of you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every stroke until you start to cling to him and ask for more, more, more.

And Bakugou gives it to you, with feral growls, hiking your legs up higher until they rest on his shoulders, hunching over you with every wet slap of his balls against your ass. The position forces him even deeper, makes your feet dangle entirely too close to your face, Bakugou leaning over to kiss you sweetly on the ankle.

“So, fuck, what’s the diagnosis, doc?” Bakugou taunts you, grinning down at you when you blink bleary eyes up at him. He’s sweaty and golden and has a halo of light behind his ash blond hair from the overhead light. He’s prettier than you want to admit, but its hard trying to keep a face of professionalism when his cock keeps kissing your sweet spot and his chest pressed against yours makes your nipples harder than rocks.

“Huh? What happened to that fucking smart ass that would lecture me in our sessions?” He teases, smile wide and feral as he holds your cheeks tightly between his thick fingers. He forces your mouth into a pout, kissing it, when you blabber nonsense up at him.

“Fucked you dumb already? All those years of college right out the door, huh, baby?” Bakugou’s so mean, makes you whine and claw at his shoulders and nape. You could answer him, give him your professional opinion—not like you even had one in the first place—but he makes it so hard to think. When his cock is balls deep inside of you, when he looks at you with his teasing and yet adoring little grin, when he keeps shaking your face at him with a taunting coo, when he sneaks a hand between your bodies to circle your clit.

“It’s okay; I can think for you. You don’t have to use that pretty little head even once when you’re with me.” Bakugou’s coos sweetly, reaches down and pecks your forehead and mouth when you whimper pathetically up at him with teary eyes.

“Gonna cum? Yeah?” He asks you, hips never faltering as he fucks you into the table, his mouth pressed against yours as you grab him tightly, feeling the oncoming orgasm starting to flood your system.

“Yeah,” you whine softly against his mouth through your puckered lips, making Bakugou groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. You tighten up around him so deliciously, sound so pretty with your fucked out moans and hoarse voice, look so gorgeous all high out of your mind and pliant on his kitchen counter.

How could he ever remember to pull out?

You try to protest when Bakugou holds you tight and starts to cum inside of you, but your complaints fall on deaf ears. He only holds you tighter against him, groaning loud in the skin of your neck as his cock spurts his hot seed deep inside of you. When he finishes, he collapses on top of you, breathy and sweaty, and you’re in no better position. Its quiet for a while, despite your legs and back aching, and the cooling feeling of his cum starting to spill from around his softening cock still buried inside of you.

“So,” Bakugou starts, and you’re almost fearful of what he might say next. “Can you start scheduling my appointments to your apartment instead of your office now?”

You’re at least a little thankful that he has plans to let you go back to your life, even if he’s forcing himself to be apart of every little aspect of it. You nod tiredly, wondering how and if you’re going to tell your boss.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬#tw: yandere #tw: stalking #tw: dubcon

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winterarmyy · 8 months

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Imagine a like avenger!Bucky x shape shifter! Reader.

It could be enemies to lovers smut too because why not?

The reader is the beast boy but a girl version...you can make them green

I don't see skin color 🙄(I'm joking,I'm black)

What if you make the reader green it could be like Bucky's in his room and he hears crying so he follows the sound to find y/n crying because she messed up on a mission and some agents said mean things idk and he is trying to comfort her and then they kiss and then more idk

Then, if she isn't green it could be .....sex pollen...she gets hit with sex pollen while on a mission and comes back...well you know worked up? She's in pain and even those Bucky "hates her" he also wants to help her so he..how do I say this.. he fucks her brains out.

I'm Not Like Her

Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body look and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.

Note: I'm not even open for asks but your brilliant mind just spark something in me! Plus, i see you a lot in my comments so here you are... and the pic is hilarious btw 🤣

Pairing: avenger!bucky x shape shifter!reader

Words: 1.5k++

Warnings: mild enemies to lovers, hint fat shaming, angst, bucky likes to tease the reader but not too much, fluff, cause he secretly loves her, allusion to smut??? and sam just being himself.

Idea explanation: personally i don't think i'm qualified enough to write about being discriminate against for skin color. I need more research of it.

BUT, physically, i am on the curvy side. I don't have a flat stomach, my thighs are bigger than they supposed to. cause i'm fucking 4'11 (so i look fat for my height). And i know what it feels like when people comment abt that.

Soooooo instead of turning green, imagine that the reader doesn't have the fit and perfect model-like body like other agents. Her powers? She can shape shift into any living being (person/animals/aliens) for a short amount of time, like 3-7mins.

Bucky Barnes is a bully. He'd do anything to annoy the shit out of Y/N. Everything he does just ticked her off, you name it; hair pulling, cheeks pinching, mean little jokes about how Y/N would suffocate him to death if she ever sit on him.

Bucky Barnes acts exactly like a mean teenage boy who bullies the person he likes. But she doesn't know that, does she?

What she knew was he is a menace that loves to see her bright red, in embrassment and anger. What she knew was he likes to dig into her skin and ripped her heart out from how vexingly mean he is with her.

But, he was never cruel. No. He is the sweetest a man can be when he wants to. She still remembered those days he would drop off bunch of her favorite snacks and sweets during that week she was hospitalized from a rough mission.

Don't get her wrong though, he still teases her A LOT during those visits but it was sweet of him to come by and cheer her up.

But if he wasn't cruel. Then, why was she on the verge of tears?

Y/N stood alone in the kitchen, her hands strongly gripped onto the edges of the counter like she would shatter it with her bare hands. At time like this, she wished nothing more than just to shift into a bird and fly away.

Just so far away that no will able to catch her.

But those agents certainly did shot a bullet through the thickness of her gut when they said those words.

Y/N was just going to grab a cold drink after her sparring with Bucky, when she heard their vile whispers. She stopped at her tracks and hid behind the wall the moment she heard her name was mentioned.

"I don't understand why we keep her around. Did you see her panting for air from a quick sparring with Barnes? And doesn't she sound like a pig?" He sneered.

"We keep y/n around cause she has powers you, dumbass. Why are you being mean anyway, didn't you guys had a thing like 2 weeks ago?" The other voice said.

"It was a prank. Didn't think she'd believe it. Me dating her? Please. Not in any universe." He trailed, "Though if she shift into Natasha, then maybe I'll consider fucking her." Y/N could hear his smirk even from the block of the walls.

The other man laughed as if it was funny, "But it only lasts so long though? What if she turn back into herself when you have your cock inside her?"

The man gagged and said, "Ewww please stop. That's just fucking disgusting."

And when they left the kitchen, Y/N aimlessly went to the area. What was she gonna do just now? Oh, get some cold water. But why won't her hands move? They've been digging into the hard surface of the counter for how long now? If she goes any harder, her fingers would bleed. And why's her vision was blurry? Why there's wetness on her cheeks?

She didn't even notice that she was crying, beause she was so focused on fixing her own broken heart. And even if her pride was left to almost nothing, but she held on. She chose hold on to it for as long as could. Cause deep down she knew they were right.

No one's gonna love her for who she is, they will always be blinded by the flaw of her body and not see the pure of her heart. And if that is the ugly truth she had to face, then she chose to love herself. To be proud of herself.

But it is so hard does it? How can you love yourself when no one else is willing to love you?

"Doll?" Bucky's voice was soft when he called her that she didn't even heard him the first time around.

When Bucky heard sounds of someone sniffling, he knew that someone was crying. So he followed the hiccups of voice to the kitchen. But he didn't expect the culprit would be Y/N.

He almost rushed to her when she continued to sob, "Hey hey hey, what's wrong sweets? Did you hurt yourself?" He briefly cupped the softness of her cheeks before slightly holding up her hands to see if there's any cut from it.

When he noticed that there weren't any physical injuries, the tense of his muscles relaxed just a little bit. His big hands went to reach her face again, and gently wiped her tears away. He was so tender with his hold but his tone was far from it, "Who did this to you?"

And she told him exactly what happened. Even with hiccups in between her ranting breath. He listened. He listened to every single word she had to say, not cutting into her confession, not even once. And Y/N didn't know why she told him that. He supposed to be the last person she complained to about her look, about her weakness, about her flaws.

Bucky Barnes, the same one that loves to tease her about it all. He wasn't supposed to hear the dooms of her heart. But, he was. He was listening to her.

And he was seeing red.

Bucky had never felt rage this powerful in his life, he swore that if he let it consume him, the tower would be painted with blood. But, he held back. For her.

Because she needed someone to be there for her. And Bucky felt he was the luckiest to be that person.

"I'm not like her." She whispered tiredly. "I'm not like her, Bucky. I'm not attractive like Natasha or pretty like Zendaya or even Steve at that matter, like he has such tiny waist for his built, and he's a fucking man!!" She ranted every minor things that bothered her to him.

Bucky thought of his words for a while and simply said, "Yes, you're not like Natasha, or Zendaya, or Steve..." he chuckled at the end, "...But that's the best bits about you, doll." There was this flare in his eyes that Y/N couldn't wrap her finger around it.

"Are you making fun of me, right now?" She glared in between the tears in her eyes.

"No, I'm only telling you the truth." Bucky tucked her hair as he continued, "So what if you're not like her? There will always be someone that will see you more that just a piece of meat to fuck."

"Well, then I won't have that someone then."

"Oh, but I know one person though." Bucky grinned, "Me."

Y/N was rendered speechless when he confessed his true feelings.

"Doll, have you ever wonder why I love pinching your cheeks so much?" His fingers started to trail across her cheeks and his stare lingered in her eyes as his naughty hands find their way to her hips.

"It's because I was desperately trying to avoid grabbing these soft, thick thighs of yours." his eyes darkened the moment that he said, "And oh baby the things I'd do for you just to slide my cock between them."

It was like she was hypnotized by the way his hardened bulge grinding against her tummy. It felt good and his lust-filled gaze was doing nothing but making her wet, "Bucky..." she whispered.

Bucky lips was so gentle on her eyelids and her temple, until his teeth grazed along her neck and his groaning call reached her ears, "And do you know why I was pissed when we were sparring just now?" Asked before quickly clarifying, "It's not because I lost to you."

He grinded a particularly hard thrust against her that he accidentally moan in pleasure, "Oh babydoll, no. It's because I have this absolutely gorgeous girl on top of me, and her slutty body was just so close to me that I got so fucking hard. "

Bucky lifted her face towards his to watch how she was melted in his touch, "I was so pissed, because I can't fuck you the way I want to." His lips was so close, hovering over her own as he confessed.

But suddenly they felt a splash of water hitting side of their face, "Woah woah woah. Down, boy. Bad bucky. Bad!" Sam yelled. Imagine his surprise when he got into the kitchen to see Bucky literally humping on Y/N like a dog in heat.

They didn't even notice him approaching them with a glass of water in his hand.

Though Y/N was absolutely red in embrassement, but surely Bucky doesn't give a fuck. He didn't even acknowledge Sam's pleas to stop, especially when he crashed his lips on hers.

Y/N moaned lewdly as he effortlessly lifted her on the kitchen isle, feeling his clothed cock rubbing against her needy cunt. At that point, who cares if anyone's watching. She wanted him so bad. As bad as he wanted ruin her.

Sam scrambled backwards when Bucky started to unzip his pants, "Shit he's going feral." He dramatically ran across the halls leading to the kitchen as he announced, "Okay people, out. Get out. No one is allowed to the kitchen unless you want to be in debt cause I am not paying for your therapy."

Safe to say the kitchen was a fucking mess when Bucky was done with her and the cleaning crew was traumatized by the amount of wetness and cum they had to clean around the area.

End.

A/N: This was so random but I hope you enjoyed it! Drop some thoughts behind for me to pick up and squeal at, would you?

#random asks 💌#yinn writes 📝#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky

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onlyangle1 · 5 months

Text

X FACTOR

HELLO LOVERS!! this is my very first fake instagram fic so i do apologise if this is a bit shit, but if you like it i will continue this and make it a bit of a series/fic thingy.

had no clue who to choose as a face claim so i decided to use ari! <33

Summary: Y/N supports her big brother when he goes to the x factor!!

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Y/Nhorran

Liked by niallhoran and 64 others

Y/Nhorran I can’t believe my smelly big bother just sang infront of KATY PERRY!!!! LIKE WHAT? No no in all seriousness im so proud of you, dont forget me when your all big and famous!!!

p.s next round tell katy i love her!! xx

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Niallhoran Thanks tiny ❤️ I’ll be sure to tell her next time she comes round for tea, shall I? You are a melon aren’t ya x

Y/Nhoran Yes that would be much appreciated thank you! xx

Maura.horan He is a cutie isnt he! We’re all so proud my love xx

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Y/Nhoran

Liked by Niallhoran and 72 others

Y/Nhoran LOOK AT THESE MUPETS!! Who knew Ni-Ni could fly? Crazy days.

ANYWAYS IM SO PROUD OF YOU NIALL, LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH!!!! xx

(thank you mumzy for catching my reaction x)

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Niallhoran Thanks pumpkin, now come to my room so I give you a big cuddle xxx

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Niallhoran

Liked by Y/Nhoran and 172 others

Niallhoran Tiny has been watching my X Factor performances at least twice a day for the last week, as much as i love her support, she needs to turn it the fuck down! xx

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Harrystyles Don’t be horrid Nialler

Y/Nhoran Yeah ni-ni, listen to your mate.

Maura.horan Aw she just loves ya, darling x

Niallhoran Don’t be on her side mum!!

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Y/N lounged on the comfortable bean bag she had brought into Niall's bedroom, her eyes fixed on the vibrant posters that adorned the walls. The room was a mix of music and Hannah Montana memorabilia, a reflection of Niall's interests. The soft hum of their favorite tunes played in the background, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Niall, her big brother, sprawled out on his bed with a guitar in hand, strumming casually as they shared stories and laughter. His fingers strummed the strings effortlessly, a skill he had gained over the years. Y/N admired her brother's musical talent, feeling a sense of pride as he effortlessly played familiar tunes.

During their childhood, the two often enjoyed karaoke, and other musical activities together, finding comfort in each other's singing. Y/N, having a desire to audition for the X Factor alongside Niall, never mustered the courage, letting him take the stage and eventually become a part of the growing band, One Direction. As the five boys' musical journey unfolded, Y/N eagerly looked forward to meeting them, hoping they were as friendly as Niall made them out to be.

“So when ya’ gonna come meet me mates then?” Niall questioned looking up from his guitar almost like he was reading your mind.

“Not sure you know, whenever really.” She said with a shrug looking back down at her phone and quickly messaging someone back.

“I’ll sort something for ya pumpkin, these are my best mates! Need to meet them at some point.” Niall sent her a soft loving smile beginning to think up ideas to make the day they all met even more special.

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A note from moi: Im sorry it’s so short but i really didn’t know what to do for the first post but i hope this was okay and i’ll be making better as time goes on 🫶🏻🩷 Remember to eat, drink water and wear your suncream, love ya’s xx

Taglist: (if you want to be on the taglist just let me know!)

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secretsecretbunny · 3 months

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idk if you do drabble requests but I love your writing so much! you really have a way with words so i was wondering if maybe you'd do a drabble about new!idol fem reader (can be solo or group w/e) who really looks up to and admires BTS and they meet her before watching her perform for the first time? also maybe there's some flirting? (idc which members I'm ot7) just one of my lil day dreams I wanna get out there 🥺 anyway! keep writing, you're genuinely really good 🫶🏻

I do now!! This sounded too cute to pass up 💕

Title: "Run."

Genre: drabble, one-shot, casual??? fluff??? idk how to describe this one lmao. I hope you enjoy!

Notes: y/s/n = "your stage name". Things that are underlined are links to the outfits described.

Your nerves had you literally shaking with anticipation as you waited behind the scenes of the show. So many incredible talents were performing today and here you were, an unknown newbie who was about to take the stage in front of a live audience. Why did they even want you to debut at this big of an event in the first place? Your manager reassured you it was because they believed in your talent and knew that taking a chance on you and letting your first performance be somewhere as prestigious as this would draw in fans, who would appreciate the unique sound you bring to the table. In particular, if the responses of other idols who are more famous and well-known were captured on camera and shared with their fanbase through broadcasts or similar media channels.

The way they styled you had you feeling nervous as well, with a form-fitting pink mini skirt that hugged your curves and a white button up top that was tucked in with a black and pink tie, adding a touch of elegance to your look. The cropped black blazer and black gogo boots with heels made you feel like you were going to fall at any moment, but the white leather garter with a chain on one of your thighs added a bold touch to your outfit. You felt a little exposed but you took a moment to be silently appreciative of the safety shorts you wore beneath your skirt.

You had always dreamed of being part of a group, working together towards a common goal. That's why you were initially brought on as a trainee for the company in the first place. However, after careful consideration and evaluation of your skills and strengths, it was ultimately decided that your talents would be best utilized flying solo. But you deeply wished you had people to lean on, members who could offer support and distract from your potential mistakes. You tugged at your skirt awkwardly as you stood around waiting for your time to perform. You still had nearly 30 minutes but you were too nervous to sit, instead you opted for watching the screen positioned on the wall, showing the current performers on stage.

You smiled at the screen at the talent being shown. BTS. You had a deep admiration for the group and enjoyed watching them perform their song DNA. The members exuded confidence and comfort on stage, making it seem like they never worried about mistakes at this point in their career. You watched as they moved fluidly across the stage, perfectly in sync with one another.

A close up of Jimin had you grinning like an idiot. God he was pretty. Fuck, they all were. Hoseok with his vibrant smile, Namjoon with his unique features and buff build, Yoongi and his piercing eyes, Taehyung sporting the flirtiest looks you had ever seen, Jungkook somehow looking both innocent and dangerously delicious, and Jin with his world wide handsome face. And even more than their looks, they were so incredibly talented and hardworking.

You had heard the detailed story of how they rose to the top, overcoming numerous challenges and obstacles along the way. Their journey was filled with both good and bad experiences, but through it all, they showed great dedication and strength. And here you were, you hadn't even had your first performance yet and you had been ready to give up multiple times just during your 4 years of being a trainee. Working for the same label as the musicians who inspired you to pursue music in the first place left you feeling both grateful and slightly out of place, as if you hadn't earned your spot there yet.

You completely dismissed those thoughts and made your way towards the snack and beverage area, specifically designated for idols and staff members. You were in dire need of water and something sweet to give you an energy boost. As the boys finished their performance, the booming cheers from the crowd echoed through the air. You froze in surprise when you heard the seven of them laughing and panting out of breath as they entered the same room you were in. You attempted to seem nonchalant as they eagerly grabbed water bottles and snacks for themselves, while you discreetly tucked your hair behind your ear and reached for a water bottle too, all the while listening intently as Jungkook and Hoseok laughed uncontrollably about some unknown joke or incident.

In their fit of laughter Jungkook backed up into you, making you stumble back a bit. He whipped around suddenly "shit, sorry!" he apologized with a small bow. "Kookie you've gotta be more careful!" came a voice from behind you. The voice placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" As you turned your head, you caught sight of Jimin with a gentle smile on his face. You quickly nodded in response, your eyes wide, causing him to let out a soft chuckle. "Hey! We making new friends?" Came Hoseok's voice as he reached his hand out to you. "I'm Hoseok. Or Hobi, J-Hope, whatever's fine." he said. His signature smile was contagious, spreading warmth to the pit of your stomach as he spoke. You took his hand lightly, stifling a giggle. "I uh, I know who you are. I'm y/n. Or y/s/n. Whatever's fine." You mimicked with a warm smile. He laughed. "Nice to meet you, y/n!" His hand was warm, and making your head swim, prompting you to let go.

"Wait, y/s/n?" Yoongi asked, stepping into the conversation. "The new girl? You're debuting today, right?" As you glanced in his direction, your nervousness was evident in the rapid nodding of your head. "Mhmm! In uh.." you checked the time on your phone. "shit.. 15 minutes actually." You said, taking a shaky breath in. "Nervous?" came Taehyung's voice from behind Yoongi.

You were now the center of attention for the seven boys, who were anxiously anticipating your next words. "Incredibly so.." you replied, making them all smile at you. "Hey I'm sure you're going to do great!" Namjoon chimed in "yeah, you're going to sound amazing!" Said Jin. They all nodded as you laughed

"you guys have never even heard me sing, how would you know?" You asked with a playful lilt in your voice. "Well, you're beautiful, so I'm sure your voice matches." God. Jimin was just as flirty as people described him, with a playful smile and a wink that could light up the room. You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "Smooth, pretty boy." You chuckled out, making him smirk. Jungkook looked you up and down for a moment "Your outfit looks great, your stylists did an amazing job." You took a moment to examine your outfit, making sure every piece was in its place and smoothing out any wrinkles on your skirt.

"Thanks, I actually had to beg them to add black into the theme. They originally wanted me in all pink and white and that's just... really not my vibe." This had Hoseok raising a brow. "What's not your vibe? ...sweet and innocent?" He asked with a smirk and the tilt of his head.

For just an instant, your eyes flickered with something that looked almost like mischief before settling back into their usual serenity; however fleeting this transformation may have been, its impact left ripples. Luckily you were saved by staff running up to you. "Y/n you have 10 minutes! Please come get your hair and makeup touched up!" The girl sounded almost panicked. You gave her a sweet smile. "Be right there!" You said, putting your sweet and shy persona back on. "I should run. Thanks for the pep talk, boys!" you said with a small bow. "You got this!" Namjoon said as you turned to leave. Jin's voice stopped you "would it make you more or less nervous if we said we'll be watching?" You paused for a moment in thought. "Hmm, well, I think I'd be more motivated not to fall on my ass if I knew THE Bangtan was watching my every move." This made them smirk. "We'll have our eyes glued to you then." Hoseok said with a subtle wink, his voice low. "You better." You replied amorously as you walked away.

With you fully out of earshot now, the boys spoke. "she's cute as hell." Jungkook said. "Hm, she acts cute, but I think she's a little darker than that." Hoseok laughed. "Her and Jimin have the same vibes" Taehyung said playfully. "Oh, so I'm cute AND sexy? Thanks Taetae." Jimin retorted playfully, making the man roll his eyes. "Alright guys keep it in your pants." Yoongi commented. "Right, let's just go watch her performance like we promised, yeah?" Namjoon stated as they headed towards the changing room to switch outfits before returning to the audience.

As you stepped onto the stage, your nerves seemed to vanish into thin air as you effortlessly slipped into your performance persona. The song you performed was sultry, sassy, and sensual. Your manager referred to it as 'the triple S.' You found that you fell into the role easier than you thought you would since you discovered that with how bright the stage's colorful lights were, you could barely even see the crowd, but you could feel their energy and passion.

As your performance was coming to a close, one of your backup dancers suddenly fell near your feet. Despite knowing you needed to continue with the choreography, it felt wrong to simply step around her and ignore her situation. So, you decided to help her up while still singing and dancing, offering a reassuring smile and squeezing her hand gently when she looked panicked. She quickly fell back into the routine and the rest of the performance went on without another issue.

As soon as you left the stage, you were immediately ushered off to change into more appropriate clothing for sitting in the audience with the other idols who either weren't performing or had already finished their performances. A simple long black dress with two high slits on either side, though you still wore a leather garter with a chain, this time in black though. Your seat was just a row behind the bts boys, you gave a small bow and a smile as you passed them. Once you sat down, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook all turned around to give you a thumbs up or small claps, telling you that you had done a good job. Despite your best efforts you couldn't fight the bright smile that took over your features.

No more than 2 hours later you were at the after party being reprimanded by your manager for stopping mid performance to help your backup dancer. "You know you're supposed to keep going in instances like that!" She barked out. "I technically did keep going! I wasn't just going to ignore her while she was struggling!" You spat back with an eye roll, arms crossed over your chest. She let out a deep sigh, her shoulders sagging in resignation.

However, before she could continue with whatever she was going to say, you abruptly turned and started walking away from her. Unfortunately for you though, your hasty retreat led you straight into the path of an oncoming person - or more specifically, their chest - resulting in a jarring impact that sent you stumbling backward several steps. "fuck! I mean, augh... sorry!" you bowed. "We're just always bumping into each other, huh? Now we're even." you looked up to see Jungkook with a couple of the boys not far behind. You let out a small laugh "I guess we are." as Hoseok walked up, he peeked around you for a moment, eyeing your manager as she huffed and stomped away.

"You get in trouble for something?" he asked. You nodded with another eye roll. "She's upset that I stopped to help my backup dancer when she fell." His eyebrows furrowed "she's mad at you for being a kind a decent human being?" You smiled "that's one way to put it I suppose." you replied. Jimin, hearing the conversation being had, pouted "I thought it made you look cool and likeable!" he said with a tilt of his head. You anxiously fiddled with your fingers, feeling a bit nervous. "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I really hope it didn't ruin the performance." Hoseok shook his head. "Not at all! You were amazing up there!" Jungkook and Jimin nodded, agreeing. "Let me get you something to drink to get your mind off it, yeah?" He added. You smiled "sure, that'd be great."

As Jimin and Jungkook started mingling with the crowd, you and Hoseok headed towards the bar, located at the distant end of the room. The venue had arranged for an assortment of drinks to be served, and the bartender was busy filling orders.

He ordered you your drink of choice and something for himself as well. You two engaged in a casual conversation for nearly half an hour, exploring various topics and discovering shared interests such as music, movies, and hobbies. The ice in your second round of drinks had mostly melted, indicating they were nearing completion when he posed the question "you wanna get out of here?"

Halting your speech mid-sentence, you turned to face him with an inquiring gaze before your expression shifted into a sly grin that showed your true intentions. "Absolutely." You responded. He grinned widely as he grabbed your hand, his grip firm and confident, leading you towards the exit with purpose.

As you walked, he waved goodbye to his members, a gesture that seemed almost automatic. You spotted your manager heading towards you, her expression written in annoyance, causing your heart to race in anticipation. You gave Hoseok's hand a stern warning squeeze as your manager approached, making him raise an eyebrow at you in confusion. However, the mischievous grin spreading across your features told him everything he needed to know - you had no intention of being deterred by anyone.

"Run."

You said before pulling him into a dash towards the exit. You both burst into a fit of laughter as you rapidly made your way out of the building, the sound of your hurried footsteps on the hard floor growing fainter with each passing second until you were no longer in sight.

Tonight might be fun after all, you decided.

aaaa okay how was that? Thoughts? Critiques? Requests? Let me know what's up. Love you!! 🩷

#bts #bts fic #bts drabble #bts x reader #bts x you #ot7 #ot7 x reader #bunbunworks #bangtan #hoseok x reader #hobi x reader #jhope x reader

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popironrye · 27 days

Text

Little Birdie

So animals aren't really something I draw much, can you tell? XD

This is Arlo! He's a derpy little runt of a pigeon, but since he's Marko's baby, he feeds him to much so he's very fat.

I really wanted to draw this little guy and of course I had to include Marko as well. Arlo is one of Marko's pigeons, but he's not like the rest.

I like to think at one point in time, Marko thought it'd be cool to give raising hatchlings a try after finding out the domesticated female pigeons were leaving their eggs up in the crevices of the cave walls. This didn't last long for a couple of reasons.

1. Since pigeons are monogamous and are always around their babies 24/7, even the most domesticated ones are very good at taking care of their babies all by themselves. And

2. Raising babies of any animal species suck, given how much responsibility is required to feed, clean up after, and protect them, not to mention the boys would need to take in a nocturnal animal as they were completely unable to do anything during the day. Marko was more than happy just letting the pigeons raise their own.

As the bird grew, Marko noticed he stayed pretty small compared to the other pigeons, guess he was always gonna be a runt.

This all changes when he's floating in the hotel bored, just watching the few previous baby pigeons left before they fly out to live on their own as adults, Marko notices in one of the crevices he knew had an egg before still had something in it. It was a baby pigeon, without a parent anyway close, which Marko knew was odd. The baby was like any other baby pigeon he saw. Very ugly. Bright pink fleshy thing with very little feathers to cover it yet. Since it was by itself, Marko knew something must had been wrong with him and the parents just abandoned him. Marko kept good care and record of his pigeons and the boys respected his wishes not to kill and eat any of them.

Marko pulled the baby from the hole and just held it, examining him very closely. When the boys found out about the abandoned baby, they figured Marko would leave it somewhere to starve or just eat himself, but Marko didn't have the heart to do that. Instead he kept the bird around, calling him Arlo, just to see how long he'd live.

Arlo is a very sweet little bird. He loves getting pets. He can fly, but he's not the strongest flyer, so he's mostly on the ground. Marko tied two bells around his ankle so he'd know where he was at all time.

#the lost boys #my art #marko names all his birds #he's a bird dad #marko the lost boys #marko tlb #the lost boys 1987 #fan character #fanart #the lost boys fanart

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justanerdy-gal · 3 months

Text

An Ascendant’s Love

-> pairing: A!Astarion x Vampire!Tav -> content: fluff, emotional, pro Ascendant Astarion, vampire bride Tav, sfw -> summary: An ascended vampire’s love is obsessive. An ascended vampire’s love is possessive. But it is no less true. In fact, there was perhaps no truer love than that of the Ascendant.

-> notes: My firm belief has always been that Astarion’s love for Tav becomes so intense after his ascension that he does not know how to contain it. That he would go from the heavens to the hells to protect them, cherish them, and keep them by his side. To this end, I wanted to write a fic that briefly expositions how I think (headcanon ofcourse) Astarion feels about his love for Tav after he has ascended. Those who think ascended Astarion is abusive may not like this fic 🙈 But I hope you all enjoy it anyways ❤️

————

An ascended vampire’s love is obsessive. An ascended vampire’s love is possessive. But it is no less true. In fact, there was perhaps no truer love than that of the Ascendant.

Astarion ponders as he watches his love staring out the window of the palace, her skin as radiant as a pearl. As radiant as the day he turned her. He leans against the wall across the hall, enamoured by his consort’s beauty. She was wearing a ballgown he had specifically designed for her. He had made sure to spare no expense - much to Tav's hesitation early on. However, upon seeing Astarion's heady stare when she first put the gown on, she had decided that maybe it wasn't so bad.

It was hard for him to explain the feelings that turmoil through him when he stares at his beloved. Everything had changed when he chose to complete the Ascension ritual - for himself, not for his late master. Every sense, every feeling he had, had grown much more intense. It was almost too much for him to absorb at first. His edges had dulled over the past 2 centuries of slavery that he endured - and to just feel so much at one time - it was a feeling quite overwhelming.

And then there was her. His companion. His friend. His lover in a way that no past lover had ever been for… as long as he could remember.

Oh yes, he loved her before the Ascension - the first real connection he'd ever made in his life. The one who broke through all the walls he had built over the past two centuries, as if they were made with nothing but cardboard.

But it was as if his feelings before his Ascension were… minute. Puny.

They could not capture or describe the essence of what his little love truly meant to him. They could not do it justice.

She was the one who had saved him from his slaver - who had gone through thick and thin to ensure his happiness. Who never pushed him - not with intimacy, not with feelings. She let him make his own decisions. For the first time in his life.

When he first ascended, he had wanted to devour her whole. To devote himself to her, and have her devote herself entirely to him. Anyone else would have been terrified - scared off by the show of such intensity, such need for possession, a need to hold them close - in fear that in the blink of an eye, they would fly away, leaving a gaping hole in his undead heart.

But not her. Not the one who had opened her mind to him - allowed him to see himself for the first time. Who was locked by his side as he carved those wretched runes on the bastard’s back. It was an adjustment at first, but even without the tadpole in their brains, it's like they could read eachother's minds. It was not an intensity born out of control - Astarion had many things he could control, he did not need to control her. He did not ... want to control her.

It was a shock to him as well, to be frank. He was unsure how everything would play out after he had ascended - during that brief amount of time between his Ascension and before he had turned her. His mind was a whirlwind - the world moving too slow, his senses moving too fast. The strength of 7000 souls coursed through him, and his need to dominate was palpable. Intense.

But somehow....somehow she had seen through all that. Through the lust for control, for power, for revenge. She grounded him. Brought him back down to earth.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would have turned to the worst without her there. There was so much he was capable of - and the natural urges he had did not point towards good. But when he held her - when she melted into his embrace - he was reminded of that sliver of goodness, that had been the key to unlocking the world. He remembered their good deeds along their travels, the way he would fuss and fight, but would then softly smile as he saw the ones he helped thank Tav with joyous praises. He was enraptured by it. It made him wonder if maybe it wasn't so bad .... if he could make that smile appear on his love's face all the time.

It would take time, he found. As he settled into his new body, his new powers, his urges settled too. He found it easier to make good decisions over bad. His overwhelming desire calmed to an eternal adoration. Whenever he strayed in his natural urge to dominate, just a little nudge from his sweet was all it took to guide him back to the right path. Except for perhaps in their bed. It seems she rather enjoyed him dominating in that respect.

Time would never be enough for him to express his adoration of her. He longed to cherish her every moment of everyday. Hold her close as she blushed while he dragged his hand over her curves. To feel her shivers as he fed upon her blood. To lose himself in her lips, to ravish her with his touch, to feel her against him as she unravelled beneath him every night. To never let her go. He would never let her go.

He wanted to give her everything. He made her his bride. He would not allow her to suffer the torture he did. He would make sure she would want for nothing. Her every desire fulfilled. Her every need met. As long as she stayed by his side, he would give her the entire world.

He was now free to love her without fear - without fear of Cazador, without fear of the Absolute, without fear that he did not have the power to protect her. For the first time… he was without fear.

“What’s the matter, Astarion?” Astarion was taken out of his thoughts to see that Tav had walked over to him, her head quirked to the side as she wondered about what was bouncing through her love's mind at the moment.

“Nothing, my little love,” Astarion said, smiling as he pulled Tav in for a kiss. Tav was caught off guard by the intensity with which his lips met hers, almost set off balance as he crushed her body to him. He wrapped one arm around her waist, another lifting into in her hair, pulling her head in closer as he deepened the kiss for a moment, before he allowed her to breathe again.

“If that’s nothing, then nothing might have to happen more often,” Tav giggled, a blush creeping upon her face. Astarion face lit up with a grin at the twinkling sound of her laugh. He held her tight to him as he stared out into the setting sun.

You have given me everything.... thank you.

————

My AO3 and Twitter 🙂

MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@volturisecretary @myaastarionshenanegans @leatherboundriot

#astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion baldurs gate #baldur’s gate astarion #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #baldur’s gate iii #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion x tav #ascended astarion #astarion ascended #astarion headcanons

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the-traveling-poet · 7 months

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Hi love! I’ve read a levi x reader where the reader was Levi’s lieutenant and they had a secret relationship and I just liked it so much… so I’d like to ask could you do a Levi x lieutenant reader where the reader gets injured during an expedition out of the walls and they have a secret relationship, but like, Levi cannot show too much affection cause of course he is “ice cold Captain Levi” but he is so worried for her? I’m feeling a bit sick lately, stuck at home with the flu and wanted to cheer myself up… thank you anyway! ❤️

Priorities

══════════════════════

Being Corporal Levi’s Lieutenant was a demanding job. As well as being his second in command, you doubled as his personal assistant. Though you were always up for the job, sometimes it was tough.

But not as tough as keeping the two of your’s relationship behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

One particular expedition gone wrong might just bring to light a side of Levi the rest of the Scouting Regime hasn’t seen before; The one that only you get to.

══════════════════════

Pairing: Corporal Levi x Lieutenant!Reader

Warnings: Angst-to-fluff, long fic, language, descriptions of wounds, secret relationship.

SFW, xReader, Multiple POV’s, S1

══════════════════════

A/N: Ofc! I too am a sucker for “secret relationship” tropes, so I was really excited to write this one out!

I downed 4 shots of tequila and speed wrote this. I’m not ashamed of myself, just a little surprised.

I hope it’s to your expectations, and if not I will happily redo whatever you prefer~

Get well soon babe!🤎 Enjoy~

═══════════

Typically, you preferred to go through your warm up routine before sparring. Stretching, running a couple laps, exercising your legs to ensure flexibility; the usual.

But today, you didn’t get that luxury.

Landing on your ass for the third time in twenty minuets, you huffed a sigh of frustration.

The hell is his problem?

“Get up, L/N.” A bored tone called down to you.

Brushing the dirt off your rear, you pulled yourself to your feet and tried your best to keep your expression neutral. Levi paced closer to you, arms folded across his chest and his brow furrowed.

“Your stance isn’t steady, so you keep falling on your ass. How many more time do I have to knock you down before you realize this?” he continued.

Slowly bringing your arms up to salute him, you met his steely gaze.

“Yeah yeah, sorry sir,” you muttered. Typically, backtalk or anything of the such wouldn’t be tolerated, but you were an exception. A fact that still baffled the rest of the Special Operations Squad.

Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention to the small group watching your matches.

“That’s enough for today. Clean up and get down to the mess hall.”

“Sir!” his squad responded with salutes of their own, and were quick to follow his orders.

Petra stalled for a moment, shooting you a concerned look over her shoulder before she followed after the others. She was a sweet girl, you thought. She’s come to you many times about her concerns for the way your Captain treated you, but you’d always reassured her that you and Levi simply just butted heads more often than not.

Once they were gone, you sighed and threw a look over at your Captain.

“Yknow, if you’d have let me warm up first, those fights would have ended differently.”

“You think on the field you’ll have time to stretch your pretty legs before you fly after a titan’s nape?” He responded, but this time his tone wasn’t so harsh.

“What’s up your ass?” You grinned, stepping closer to him.

“Your attitude,” he smirked ever so slightly. He looked you up and down quickly, then glanced around your surroundings. You two were alone on the training grounds. His posture relaxed slightly as he reached out to fix some of your lose hairs.

“You know I push you because I want to see you succeed,” he stated softly.

“I know, Lee. I know,” you smiled back, taking his hand out of your hair and into your own. “I’m starting to think your ‘reverse physiology’ isn’t working, though.”

“What do you mean?” He raised a single brow as he squeezed your hand and slowly led you back to the entrance of HQ.

“Acting harder on me to hide the fact you love me. It’s just drawing us more attention.” You shrugged.

Levi sighed, almost in defeat. “I suppose you’re right. I don’t like being hard on you. But with our positions in the Corps…You know this isn’t allowed.”

You mimicked his sigh, briefly leaning your head against his shoulder before the doors opened. Though all too soon, he pushed open the doors and let go of your hand, his face immediately set with indifference.

“I’ll see you tonight. Eyebrows wants us Captains and Section Commanders to report to him before tomorrow’s expedition.” He murmured softly in your ear before taking his leave, leaving you to find your own way to the mess hall for the evening.

Sitting with your companions, you picked listlessly at the food on your plate. Eld and Gunther were too caught up in their own conversation to notice your melancholy demeanor, while Oulo was far too focused on his plate to care.

Petra sat to your right, sipping from her cup but keeping a close eye on you. Catching her stare, you shoot her a reassuring smile.

The 56th expedition beyond the walls was the following day, and needless to say it weighed heavily on all your minds.

Petra placed a hand onto your shoulder and tried her best to smile back. She returned her attention back to her food, and you were quick to follow suit. But the longer you sat there, glancing up towards the empty seat at the head of the table, the less of an appetite you had

If only we didn’t have to hide…

══════════════════════

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel loosely around your body before braiding back your hair. You’d ate what you could stomach in the mess hall, then decided to retire to your room early to avoid having to socialize with anyone.

And by your room, you meant Levi’s personal room. You’d been staying with him for awhile now, though you’d have to sneak in early and leave even earlier in the morning to avoid being caught by anyone else.

Slipping on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, you left his private bathroom and entered the bedroom.

“Well don’t you look lovely.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, and as it was you barely muffled a gasp.

“Shit Levi, I didn’t even hear you enter.”

Levi sat on the corner of his mattress, loose carvat around his neck and uniform straps removed from his torso and legs. He offered you a minuet smirk, then stood and strode over to you.

“Usually, you’re not in here till later,” he observed aloud.

“I wanted to retire early. Get a shower in, relax…See you…” You muttered sheepishly, playing with the hem of the shirt you wore.

Giving you a soft smile, his arms quickly found purchase around your waist. Immediately you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your head on his chest with a contented sigh.

You both stayed like that for a handful of minuets, living in the peaceful moment life had decided to grant you this evening. Suddenly, with a sigh, Levi slowly released you.

“Listen…About tomorrow-“

“I know, I know. ‘Stay close to the squad, don’t be a dumbass, and don’t die.’” You recited with a chuckle. Rolling his eyes with a huff, Levi led you to sit on the bed beside him.

“Precisely. You’d better watch yourself out there. I need…We need more moments like this; together. Can’t do that if your dumbass doesn’t come back.”

“You, too. You may be ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’ and all, but I don’t want to see a single cut on you when we’re back.” You poked his at his chest playfully and leaned into his warm embrace.

“Yea, dear.” His mocking tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you could retort, you found yourself falling sideways onto the bed. Levi had shifted on the bed and let you fall forward so that he could stand up.

“Erwin made a comment tonight,” he spoke over his shoulder as he gathered up a change of clothes for himself.

“Oh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to follow him with your eyes.

“Said ‘You and Lieutenant Y/N make a good team. We’ll need you both on the far right of the formation.’” Levi quoted as he slipped on a new shirt.

“Then he pulled me aside after the meeting. ‘Don’t let personal feelings get in the way of the mission. I understand this may seem unfair to ask, but I’ve seen the way you look at your second in command .’, so I said I wouldn’t.”

Scoffing back a laugh, you grinned. “It’s a little too late for that.”

“By about two years, yeah.” Levi hummed in agreement, joining you in bed with a relaxed sigh.

You were quick to snuggle up to him, and his arm instinctively draped over your waist. Laying your head back onto his chest, you looked up at him. Only to find his gaze already on you. You knew that look in his eyes…

“Hey, I will come back. I always do,” you reassured him in a soft whisper.

“You’d better. I’m not sure what I’d do without you here,” he whispered back, letting his eyes close shut.

Placing a kiss on his cheek, you snuggled under the covers and closed your eyes. “You won’t ever have to find out,” was the last thing you whispered before you let your exhaustion take over.

══════════════════════

3rd person POV

“The 56th expedition is about to begin; prepare yourselves!”

Commander Erwin’s voice boomed from the front of the formation, reaching every soldier under his command. With cheers from the civilians gathered around to see them off, Levi snuck one last glance over to you. Giving you a confident nod, he gripped the reins from atop his horse and stared straight ahead.

Soon enough, the gates opened wide, and the Survey Corps spilled out at a gallop.

For the first hour, everything was going smoothly. A handful of titans here and there were quickly dealt with by the S.O.S. Onwards they raced, until a splitting scream broke the eire silence hanging over them. Whipping her head forward, Y/N was quick to shoot her ODMG onto the nearest tree and grapple onto it. Despite her Captain’s screams of protest, Y/N was off.

Only a moment passed, and Levi had lost sight of her amongst the forming group of titans.

Half an hour later, Commander Erwin had called for a retreat. What had originally been a mere observation exposition, had turned into a blood bath. Only half the soldiers sent out had returned to the vantage point, and most were wounded.

Wether it be a deep cut or a punctured lung, the field medics were kept busy.

Captain Levi slid off his horse hastily, looking around at everyone gathered. His eyes scanned the loose crowd anxiously, but not once did his eager gaze meet yours. Panic bubbles up in his chest, but he manages to keep calm.

On the outside, anyways.

Once a frantic Preta comes running over to him, out of breath and panting, does he get a clue as to your whereabouts.

His ever present mask starts to shatter, and in an instant he’s sprinting across the open field towards the medic tents; your name on his lips.

The moment he entered one of the several tents set up not far outside the walls, the make-shift camp went silent.

Cadets and Captains alike all paused in their tasks when a broken cry came from the larger of the tents set up.

Everyone turned their heads towards the sound. A sight lay before them they never thought they would ever see before; Humanity’s strongest solder nearly buckling under his own weight, clutching at the flaps of the center most medical tent as he cried out in fear.

Many crowded around him, fearful for his safety and curious of any injuries he might have sustained. But once they were able to see over shoulder, the truth hit them like a punch to the face.

Levi had rushed to one of the beds in the tent, falling to his knees and grasping the hand of the person who laid unconscious under the sheets.

Pushing through the crowd, Commander Erwin and Section Commander Hange softly gasped at the sight of Levi’s second in command, Lieutenant Y/N, out cold on the cot.

“The hell are you doing?! Tend to her, that’s an order!” Levi barked out harshly to one of the medics, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

For a moment, no one knew what to do. Every rumor of the raven before them being unemotional quickly went out the window as they finally understood.

The cold man did have a heart. And it belonged to you.

══════════════════════

Reader’s POV

The last thing you remembered, was rushing out of formation to save the poor cadet caught in the grasp of a fifteen meter. Your blades were at the ready, gleaming in the sunlight reflected off the cloudy sky overhead.

The moment you freed the cadet from the monster’s grasp, you realized a fatal mistake you’d made; you’d gotten too close to its mouth.

In a moment of panic, you twisted yourself in midair and made to get away, but you were far too late. In a mere second that seemed to last an eternity, you felt a searing white hot pain erupt near your right hip. Screaming out in pain and frustration, you managed to swing your arm back just far enough to jab your blade into the titan’s lip, causing its jaw to lock for a moment as it processed what you were doing.

This gave you enough time to wiggle your way out from between its teeth, shooting your ODM gear hooks into its shoulder and glide away.

Despite the amount of blood you were losing, as well as the blinding pain that threatened to render you unconscious at any moment, you’d swung yourself up into a sharp arch and sliced through its tough nape.

With the titan’s corpse, you fell as well. An intense ringing sounded in your ears when you opened your eyes, only to see the young cadet hovering over you with tears in their eyes. Faintly, you heard them mention a medic, but then your eyes shut against your will.

Before you lost consciousness, your mind drifted back in time, to a moment you last remembered experiencing joy. That very morning, in fact.

The way you’d woken up cocooned in the arms of your lover, feeling warm and safe. Not a care in the world, as you ignored your soon to be pending responsibilities. The way you had looked up and seen his smile, so bright and genuine and filled with such love.

If this is it, then I’m glad he’s the last thing I remember seeing…

Some time later, much to your confusion, your eyes cracked open to see a window. Sunlight poured through, nearly threatening to blind you as you lifted a weak arm up to block the light.

A groan left your lips as you tried to sit up, only to find you couldn’t manage the movement on your own. Reaching down below the covers that covered your midsection with your other hand, you felt the distinct material of thick medical wraps around your midsection. It was slightly damp, and you caught the faint whiff of blood.

Confusion clouded your judgment, causing you to try and remove the bandages to see what exactly was wrong with you. You supposed you were back in HQ, safely within the infirmary. Yet when you tried to shift your shoulders forward to remove the cloths, you suddenly became aware of a weight pressing down on your left shoulder.

Turning your head, you squinted your eyes at the veil of raven black hair obscuring your vision.

Only one thing came to mind when seeing the color…

“Levi?” you managed to croak out.

Immediately the weight shifted, and a face rose up from your shoulder where it had previously rested. Tired grey eyes met yours, and immediately widened.

“Y/N,” Levi whispered, almost in disbelief. Sitting up straight in the chair he sat in beside your bed, his hand immediately came up to cup the side of your face.

“You’re awake…”

“No shit, babe.”

Biting back a chuckle, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’ve been out of it for three days…How do you feel? Can I get you anything? Water? More blankets? Do your wraps need replaced yet?”

“Levi, baby, slow down…What-what happened?” You couldn’t help but for a soft chuckle to escape you at his worried tone. Immediately, a scowl took over his face.

“Your dumb fucking ass got hurt. You promised…You idiot.” He whispered, his eyes giving him away. He could look as mad as he wanted, but his eyes would always tell you exactly what he was really thinking. He was scared shitless, but also relieved.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed softly, running your shaking hands through his hair. “I wanted to save that kid. They looked so scared…Ao helpless…But what matters right now, is that we’re both safe. We made it back in once piece.”

Levi took your words into consideration, his brow furrowed and his eyes frantically searching your face. Finally, with a sigh, he leaned in and pressed his lips to your gently. It wasn’t a rushed kiss, nor a heated one. Moreover, it was soft. Reassuring, for both you and him. Kissing him back just as softly, you allowed your tense posture to relax softly.

Breaking away, his face stayed within an inch of yours as he caught his breath. “Don’t you ever dare scare me like that again. I made a fucking fool of myself out there, thinking I was too late…”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” you chuckled teasingly.

“Shut up, you know what I meant,” he breathed, his breath hitting against your now damp lips.

“I’m sorry. I really am, Lee. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Looking you in the eye for confirmation, Levi seemed to come to terms with your statement and leaned in once more, quickly taking your lips back to rest against his own.

From the infirmary threshold, the door creaked open slightly. Yet neither you nor Levi seemed to notice.

On the other side peaked in a curious Hange and a concerned Erwin. Upon seeing the sight displayed before them, Erwin had to hold Hange back from squeaking in excitement.

“I told you something was going on between the two of them!“ they shouted in a hushed voice.

Shaking his head with a weary smile, Erwin closed the door to the infirmary and headed back down the hall with the scientist.

“I know. They think they’re clever in hiding it, but two years ago I walked into Levi’s office and saw something similar. But for now, let’s let them continue to live in blissful ‘secrecy’ a little longer.”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan levi #levi x you #captain levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman fluff #fluff #angst to fluff #angst #secret relationship #attack on titan

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lara-cairncross · 1 month

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Your TMNT fairies are so beautiful!! I have plenty of questions if you don't mind, sorry if it's a bother haha.

1. How did donnie damage his wings? Or did he appear with it damaged?

2. Did they come from the same laugh? (Probably, but since don's wings, I'm confused.)

3. Is it like the fairy camp situation with april?

4. Were they born at the same time? I mean, if they were born in the same laugh they can't be born at the same time, because it has to be a baby's first ever laugh.

5. What is Splinter's role here?

6. Like the lair games, do you think they participate in the yearly pixie hollow games?

7. Does donnie have his own workplace? Tinker fairies usually work in pairs or teams, right?

That's all for now! I'm so sorry if this is overwhelming, when I saw your AU I screamed because Tinkerbell is my favorite movie series and I love love LOVE the turtles so much and I was so excited and thought about all these scenarios! Sorry, I'm babbling. Anyway, I love these so much! No pressure though, sorry again once this gets to you. (Another apology because I feel bad)

Not a bother at all!! The fact that you're interested enough to ask me questions is a huge compliment 🥹🧡🧡 I'll do my best to answer everything!

Donnie was technically born with the damaged wing! The dandelion seed he was created from got attacked by a bird during its trip to Pixie Hollow, and as a result, his wing was severely damaged by the time he arrived. The wing brace helps him be able to fly, but he's still a much poorer flier than the abled fairies.

Yes, Leo and Donnie came from the same laugh! Hence why they're twins :D Their wing patterns are the same, but Donnie's is damaged on one side. Raph and Mikey, on the other hand, were born from the laughs of the other two babies! All four turtles were created from the same set of human triplets, just a different baby each time :)) Raph was created first, Leo and Donnie second, and Mikey third-- all on the same night!

I wouldn't necessarily call it a fairy camp? The four of them are just very adventurous, and ran into April a long time ago. She was lonely, and the turtles were curious about humans, so they all just kinda got along! And now they hang out in her garden a lot :DD

Kinda answered this one already lmao, but to recap, nope! They weren't all born from the same laugh! Instead, all four of them were created on the same night from human triplets :D Donnie and Leo are the only two who were born from the same child though.

Splinter is a bonafide rat in this au! He's kinda the turtles' surrogate father??? Idk, he basically just lives in the walls of April's house and occasionally goes to rescue them if they do something stupid while they're out on adventures lmao

I think Mikey and Leo would participate at the very least! Raph could also probably be convinced, and it wouldn't be too hard :D Donnie would probably be a lot more reserved about participating in front of people though :((

Yes, Donnie has his own workplace! He actually has two of them: one at Pixie Hollow, and a fairy-sized one in a corner of April's garage! She provides him with basically whatever human materials he needs (lots of paperclips lmao). And, like in the show, Donnie usually works alone on projects. He doesn't really have a "team", but he's not against working with other Tinker Fairies if they're having trouble with something, or if he finds the project interesting.

Hope that answers all your questions so far!! Feel free to send more if you have any, I'm having SO much fun answering these! No need to apologize ❤️🧡🩵💜

#fairy au #rottmnt fairy au

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

Could we possibly be fed with more sea monster/creature reader? Mayhaps how we met Yan handler?

(I'll come back to the meet in another post cuz I had this cute idea I wanted to share first)

Sunlight pours into aquarium as the tank's latch is unlocked, rolling over your scales with a new shine. The tank was a glass box all around, but the bullet proof window above blocked out the harsher, nurturing rays. You turn over onto your back to give your frontside the same treatment.

It was heaven - just the right amount of comfort to drag you back into the depths of sleep if it hadn't been for the gentle knocking on the side of the tank. It's soft enough to not cause you discomfort, but loud enough that you can't fall back asleep.

So much for a lazy weekend.

Kicking yourself into an upright position, you swim to the top of the tank and pop your head out of the water. It's a Sunday, so the aquarium should be empty, but there was the unfortunate reality that the park's staff still existed. Before you can express your anger in the form of a snarl or gnashing teeth, a strip of fish meat bides your stalker another blissful second of your silence.

"Good morning to you too, Starfish. I'm glad there's something that keeps you from clawing my face off every morning. Not that I mind. Spit?"

You spit the fish bones into the human's hands. The freak gleefully pockets the remains, probably keeping them to add to the necklace around their neck. They wipe off their hand on their jeans and face the cart behind them.

"Are you ready for your walk?"

You circle around in your tank and slap at the wall with your webbed hands, splashing water all over them. Since you were forced to be awake, you'd take anything over the monotony of your spacious prison. Your handler just laughs at your response and shakes their head.

"I don't understand what that means, Y/n. Use your words."

Your tongue clicks against the rough of your mouth as you hiss. "Now...."

The handler wants to slap themself for not having their camera ready at all times. Thank God the security cameras can pick up the buzzing of a fly.

"I'll take that, for now. Time for some fresh air. They wheel the cart up to the tank and hold out their arms. "Your chariot, and servant await."

Making another lap around the walls, you leap over the side of the tank and into the cart with their assistance - sinking to its blue floor. The water is a little cooler than the tank, but it reminds you of the sea on a autumn day. Your tail hangs out of it as you get comfortable. Your handler bents down to whisper in your ear.

"Remember our deal. Keep your head down when others walk by, no trying to escape, and no biting or else you have to wear the muzzle."

You hated that thing. It's not like you could get far if you tried to flee anyway. You've already tried. Your handler takes your silence as an agreement, and closes the lid of your tank as they wheel you off into the park. Their boss was strict about uniform even on slow days, but their new haircut and other cosmetic touch ups made this feel like what it was in their mind rather than an assigned duty. A midmorning stroll with their fiesty, aquatic love.

You don't do much during the walk besides look around and hiss at the occasional seagull. It's mostly stuff you'd seen before, but it still feels brand new when you only experience it once a week. Halfway through the walk, your handler figures now would be the perfect opportunity to work on your speaking skills.

"Red."

"Blue."

"You're supposed to repeat after me, but it's good you're speaking at all. Please follow me this time."

Why should it matter? You're learning their language, and it doesn't seem to be required as during your performances you're never asked to speak.

"Goodmorning"

"Morning."

"Thank you"

"Thank..'

"I love you."

"...liar."

Should've known it wouldn't be easy to trick you like that. Still, your choice of wording makes their heart ache. Your situation was hard on you both. They wanted you home too. Your handler plays off the pain with another laugh.

"Has Marcy been hanging around your tank again? I swear, that's the only word she knows after we caught her stealing lunches again. Looks like we're here."

Your handler parks your cart at the cliffside overlooking the city. Your home was only a mile way, waves pocketed by the land foundation that streches farther than depth perception can tell. So close, yet so far. The rocks below made jumping impossible not to mention the roads and people in the way. Air bubbles float to the surface as you submerge yourself in the icy cold water. Your handler rests a hand over the glass.

"I know you're suffering right now, Starfish. I'm doing everything I can to make this better for you, but someday you'll be free again. You'll never have to see another human besides me and you'll finally be home."

From the look in their eyes and past declarations - you are well aware they don't mean the ocean.

#Sea creature reader #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #monster reader #yandere x darling #yandere fluff

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feyascorner · 4 months

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Preview | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. 0, TBA

a/n. This is just a preview of the multi-chapter fic I thought of :)) I'm not sure if I'll be able to continue writing it yet, but I'll definitely try lol. It takes place after the game!!!

As dark spots blur your vision, you realize you can no longer breathe.

But as you stare up at him with wide eyes meeting a murderous glare, you understand that you are wrong.

He says something and a few more muffled voices spit back before he throws the dagger you’d given him to the ground, turning to leave. Your hearing clears just in time to hear his parting words.

“I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.”

She raises a brow at this, scanning over your appearance. “Where is your lyre?”

“Sold it,” you shrug, dusting off the muck garnered at the sides of your pants. “Wasn’t much use to me anymore. Better off adding to the funds to rebuild the city, don’t you think?”

Shadowheart frowns, and it makes you look away shamefully. Thankfully, she quickly shakes her head and then paces past you. “Speaking of which, are you in any condition to help out today? Gale’s promptly exhausted trying to cast mage hand at least a dozen times yesterday to rebuild the Blushing Mermaid. That foolish wizard nearly passed out by noon.”

“‘Course,” you offer a pathetic smile. “We’re nearly finished with the Baldur’s Mouth. I’ll catch up with you once I check up on everyone there.”

“I will. Don’t think my back can stand much more of this anyway.”

Her shoulders relax the slightest bit, and she finally manages to catch your darting eyes. “Is it the nightmares again? They’re getting worse, aren’t they?”

For the first time after he nearly killed you and you defeated the Elder Brain four months ago, you think she might be right about him.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst

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honeybeefae · 1 year

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Valentine's Mini Fic // Azriel

I know it’s way past Valentine's day, and I did mean to post this on that day, but life got in the way. However, better late than never right? These are all small blurbs featuring various ACOTAR characters and romantic book tropes that we all love. I hope you guys enjoy and are having a great night!

WARNINGS: None, just fluff and some slight angst.

Trope: I thought you hated me/I never hated you

Thunder boomed around you while lightning crackled across the sky, the storm causing a downpour of rain that was sure to flood the valley below you. Azriel had been flying the two of you to the Illyrian camps when the storm had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, forcing him to take shelter in a cave in one of the mountains.

It was musty and small but it would have to do until the storm passed. You would have found humor in the situation if you weren’t stuck with the biggest Illyrian baby you had ever met.

Ever since you had joined the valkyries, and eventually Rhysand’s inner circle, Azriel seemed to have it out for you. He would throw glares your way, skip over you when greeting everyone, and even pushed you off to Cassian during training. You had no clue what you had done to piss him off so much but you still tried to keep an olive branch extended, hoping it was just you being new and not a complete hatred for no reason.

However, every effort you made was useless. Showing up early to training, complimenting whatever book he was reading, saving him the last dessert that Elain had whipped up, none of it mattered to him. You’d be better off trying to make friends with the weaver than Azriel.

And for some reason, that made your heart hurt.

His opinion of you shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t make you second guess every choice you made, but it did. You yearned for his approval, for one of those secret smiles to be shot your way, and you were too scared to dive into why it hurt you so much. That was a door that should remain closed…no matter how loud the banging was on the other side.

“It was supposed to be clear skies,” Azriel grumbled from behind you, his hazel eyes as cold as ice as he glared out into the sky. “This is going to set us back.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do now but wait.” You reply softly, wringing out your shirt that was clinging to your form. Azriel’s clothes were soaked as well though he showed no signs of discomfort. “Should we make a fire?”

“I don’t plan on staying here that long.” He stated while walking further into the cave. “And if I do, I’d fly out of here instead, rain be damned.”

Another stab at being alone with you, the comment making your lips turn down into a frown. He would rather risk his life than wait it out with you. The shadowsinger was the definition of an asshole.

Your fists balled up at your side and you turned back towards the entrance in anger, sitting close to the edge to watch the rain fall in hopes of it calming you down. Azriel was mumbling about something but you decided to tune him out, bringing your knees up to your chest to try and conserve some warmth.

The sound of the storm was lulling you into a gentle sleep, your head resting against the top of your knees as your teeth chattered and your body shook from how cool the cave was becoming. You were starting to lose feeling in your toes but you didn’t want to bother Azriel, knowing he wouldn’t care anyways.

“You will catch your death sitting there, Y/N.” His deep, raspy voice echoed across the walls. You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head yet you continued to ignore him, childishly turning even more towards the harsh wind that was starting to pick up.

“As if you’d care.” You grumbled, closing your eyes once more before you felt two large hands scoop you up and carry you further into the cave. You struggled against his hold, ignoring how warm his body was and resisting the urge to snuggle into it, while he simply tightened his grip.

He sat you down against the back of the cave before sitting in front of you, expanding his wings so that he was blocking most of the wind. The gesture was unexpected and made you a little suspicious, your eyes narrowing while you tried to decipher what exactly his game was right now.

The silence was tense. Azriel was twirling his blade in his hand to keep himself busy while you focused on trying to warm yourself up. Your hands were shaky as you rubbed them up and down your arms furiously, your teeth still chattering. How he wasn’t in the same situation you didn’t know but you refused to ask for help, a small part of you hoping word would get back to Rhysand about this so that everyone finally saw how he treated you.

“Are you still cold?” Azriel asked, breaking the silence and your thoughts. It was a stupid question, he could clearly see your entire body trembling, and it was the final drop in the cup of your patience that caused it to spill.

“No, Azriel, this is the warmest I’ve been in my entire life.” You said snarkily, rolling your eyes. “In fact, I was thinking of vacationing here next summer.”

His eyes hardened and jaw clenched, his scarred hands fisted on top of his thighs as he snapped back, “I was going to offer to build a fire but if you’re going to act like that then never mind.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were Mr. ‘I’d rather die than be stuck in this place with you’.” You mocked his voice, rising to your feet to stomp past him, his wings barely folding in time to let you go.

“What are you talking about?” Azriel scoffed, standing to follow you. “Has the cold made you imagine things? When did I ever say that?”

“For cauldron’s sake, give it up Azriel!” You shouted, turning on your heel and coming nose to chest with him. “You don’t have to say it. I can tell with every interaction we have, every look you send, hell even the way you breathe around me!”

His eyes widened at your tone but you continued on, ignoring whatever excuse was about to come out of his mouth. You had finally had enough. “You can’t stand me and I don’t know why. I don’t know if I offended you in some way, if I said something, or what, but from the moment you saw me you hated my guts.”

“That’s not-” Azriel tried to interject but you cut him off, glaring up at him with all the anger and hurt you had managed to hold back all these years.

“Don’t tell me what I see isn’t real, Azriel.” Your voice fell as memories flooded into your brain of his resentment towards you. “You won’t train with me, you look at me like I’m the bane of your existence. Even Cassian asked me if I did something to you.”

Perhaps it was the cold finally getting to your brain, or that small part of you that was still hoping things would change, but you could’ve sworn his eyes flashed with guilt as you listed example after example of his actions.

You took a shaky breath and stepped back, your lower lip trembling but not from the temperature. This moment was one you had thought long and hard about, how you would confront him and he would shower you with apologies or pull you into his arms in remorse, but reality was often different from the fantasies inside our heads.

Another loud crackle of thunder rolled behind you as you let your true feelings show, your mind and body exhausted from the fight. “I only ever wanted to be your friend, to joke with you like Feyre or read together in the library like Gwen. It hurts to be treated this way and whatever I did or said, I’m sorry. After we get back, I’ll leave you alone. I’m done trying to force this on you.”

As you walk past him, careful to avoid touching his body or wings, you nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a warm hand circle around your wrist.

“Wait. Please.” Azriel says, his voice as soft as the rain. It sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, making your stomach flutter, as you turn your head to look back at him.

For the first time since you met him, he looked scared. He didn’t look like the Night Court’s most notorious spy nor like the feared Illyrian warrior he was brought up as, he looked…vulnerable.

Those mysterious, enchanting hazel eyes were swimming with uncertainty as you gazed into them, your face softening. Azriel’s shoulders drew upwards as he took a steadying breath.

“I-” He croaked, quickly clearing his throat as his cheeks turned pink. “You haven’t done anything to me, Y/N. I thought it would be better this way, thought it would save both of us the pain, but I was wrong.”

As he spoke you turned to face him fully, noting in the back of your head how his hand still held you tightly. The shadows around him that so often covered him were nearly invisible…as if they were allowing him to be truly seen for the first time.

“When Nesta first brought you to train and we met, I felt this tug deep in my chest that I never thought I would feel,” Azriel confessed, moving his hands so that they now held both of your own. “I never thought I would be allowed to feel it, that the Mother was punishing me.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. There had been a moment, very brief, where you had thought you were destined to be mates. You felt your heart soar in disbelief and excitement, ready to run to the stranger until he had scowled and stormed off.

After that, you spent the next weeks convincing yourself you were delusional whenever you felt it again when he was near. It tore you apart.

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” He asked, lifting your chin up from where it had fallen to look at the ground. “I saw it in your eyes. I was a fool thinking I could deny it, that this was just another fluke like the others before you. I convinced myself it would end the same, with you finding your true mate, and that I would again be left in the ashes.”

Azriel licked his lips, a flash of lightning illuminating the both of you for a moment. “I thought the feeling would go away but when it didn’t, I lashed out instead of speaking up. I took it out on you, thinking you had something to do with it because despite how cold I was, or how much I ignored you, you kept coming back to me.”

“And I can never make up for what I’ve said, what I’ve done, but I don’t want this to be the last time you come back to me, Y/N.” He whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. “I am a fool. A scarred, angry, fool. I know I don’t deserve you, that I have hurt you, but I want you to stay with me for just a little while longer. Don’t give up on me.”

It was almost too much to take in by the time he waited for you to answer. Between the confession, the feel of his hands against your skin, and the incessant tugging in your chest that was too strong to ignore, you felt as if you were drowning.

But as you gazed up at him, at the pure emotion in his expression, you knew you would drown a thousand times just to hear him say your name again. It was like your first meeting all over again.

“I thought you hated me.�� You murmured, memorizing every inch of his face. The cold was no longer bothering you as you moved to hold his face between your hands, smiling fondly as he seemed to melt into the touch.

“I never hated you,” Azriel said earnestly, his hands coming up to cover your own. “Even on my darkest days, when my doubt was high, you were always the small piece of light that kept flickering in the darkness.”

“I could always count on you to be there, no matter what, and now I want to return the favor…forever.” He smiled, a bright, dazzling smile that made your knees weak. It was all you had ever wanted.

“Let us just start with today, okay?” You hummed, breathing in and savoring the warmness his body gave you as he brought you to his chest.

Azriel closed his eyes, feeling peaceful for the first time in a long, long time while resting his chin atop your head. “Okay.” He promised, squeezing you tighter as the storm outside started to grow calmer.

The sun started to peak through the clouds as the rain died down but the two of you stood there, too content to move as you both finally held what you truly wanted.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #acotar imagine #acotar fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel reader #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #azriel #acotar drabble #mini fic #valentines mini fics

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giveemgreef · 5 months

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the minnesota wild as High School Musical characters

did I take this too seriously? yes. have I spent the last week thinking about this? also yes. anyway, the context: we were assigned the wildcats by a swede. @babygirlspurgeon kept tagging things with HSM lyrics. @wildaboutmnhockey created the masterpiece video of the mn wild set to getcha head in the game. so now here I am!!! this has been meticulously constructed with the help of my friend who doesn't know anything about the wild beyond what I tell her (shoutout to zoe for being balls to the wall no matter what I throw at her! who else will discuss the misc. cunt levels of the wild players with me). anyway to make this easier on ourselves we constructed a reality wherein High School Musical is being recreated on ice & instead of basketball in the plot it's hockey, so this is NOT about who's most like a character etc (though that ended up being a large part of it anyway whoops), but who could embody them best in a production of it. since the cast for HSM is not...particularly large, I was really getting down into the weeds with minor parts to fit (almost) the whole roster in here, so most everyone has their moment!!! anyway. and lastly. I am just saying that mounting this show during intermissions could maybe fix the nightmare this season has been & bring the team together. because they are. after all. all in this together.

tldr: this is basically a fancast of HSM using only the minnesota wild. I am not explaining myself any further

***

Troy Bolton // Matt Boldy

look. we really had to waffle between many options for Troy and this is where we ended up. my thoughts on matt boldy have been semi-well documented at this point, so mr. white bread bimbo feels like an organic option for this role. I feel like he can really serve us some mid-range semi-insensitive high school jock realness + angst without trying too hard. plus: I feel like he'll play off Shawzy as Gabriella really well.

Gabriella Montez // Mason Shaw

for as fucking annoying as Gabriella is at points, there's an earnest authenticity there that shawzy so easily embodies. his "let's play hockey" moment from playoffs 2023........he has the emotional RANGE and will murder When There Was Me and You in cold blood. plus, much like gabriella does for troy in HSM, mason will be able to coax that emotional performance from boldy as troy with his whole do-it-for-shawzy energy. what else can be said!!! the boys love him!! so don't worry, shawzy!! you soon will be soaring. flying. and breaking free.

Sharpay Evans // Marcus Foligno

marcus foligno the man that you are. he can and WILL serve the cunt necessary to be Sharpay. he will commit body and soul to bringing this role to life, though we may have to adjust the line "evaporate, tall person" to be more appropriate. anyway. I would give SO much in this life to see moose perform Bop to the Top. who will fund this with me.

Ryan Evans // Mats Zuccarello

known funky little man mats zuccarello does SO WELL as Ryan in my mind. his dancing has been well documented so you KNOW he's gonna absolutely kill the game with those jazz squares (it's a crowd favorite! everybody loves a good jazz square), plus his affable, everyman, team-first energy is exactly what the role of ryan demands. also: the idea of him as ryan and foligno as sharpay....chef's kiss.

Chad Danforth // Ryan Hartman

hartzy...hype man for the boys...put him a series of shirts with chirpy slogans on them for my enjoyment please!!! then make him walk around with sports props for the entire production. anyway, hartzy gives me the requisite jock bro energy necessary to pull off chad's role, as well as the bitchiness needed to essentially sabotage something that is making his best buddy troy happy. plus. I'm just SAYING. given chad and ryan's dynamic in HSM2. I am eyeing him and zuccy with anticipation.

Taylor McKessie // Joel Eriksson Ek

he's going the distance. he's going for speed. he's being cast as the tenacious captain of the scholastic decathlon team. mr. september is nothing but committed to his craft and this seriousness and dedication is EXACTLY what we need for taylor. that being said, our boy jeek is up for some shenanigans given the right situation, so will he manufacture a situation to rudely disrupt the decathlon & basketball finals? but of course!!

Kelsi Nielsen // Connor Dewar

who ELSE is going to bring enough weird girl energy to the table?? I feel like dewey 2 would take this SO seriously and the role of kelsi, while at times beyond fucking annoying, demands nothing but sincerity and dedication. he wouldn't be able to NOT take this seriously. this man has also stated that he would be a writer if not for hockey, so we can really get some method acting up in this bitch. essentially: put a bowler hat on that beast and watch him go.

Ms. Darbus // Marc-Andre Fleury

this role had to be rotated in my mind a lot before settling on a casting choice. I mean, goalies are weird, and I feel like flower would bring jussssst enough bizarro energy that would perfectly drive a middle-aged thespian who, for some reason, allowed a high school student to write and mount a musical that seems to make little to no sense. maybe it's all part of a large prank. who knows.

Coach Bolton // Jake Middleton

I can't pretend this is anything other than typecasting, I'm so sorry. I can't look at middsy without being reminded of the dad from Inside Out, plus "the mustache is saying pushing 50" according to my friend. I can also perfectly envision middsy yelling WHAT ARE THOSE TWO DOING IN A TREE with great dedication, so. assigned dilf at HSM casting

Lucille Bolton // Jared Spurgeon

does spurge deserve a larger role? maybe. possibly. probably. but look: once we cast middsy as troy's dad, spurgeon was quick to follow as troy's mom. who are we to fight the natural sexual chemistry of these two? anyway. assigned milf at HSM casting

Jason Cross // Brandon Duhaime

typecast as dumb jock from a team of jocks. what does that say about you, mr. duhaime??? anyway, dewey 1 is really going to deliver on the clueless but loyal bro vibes here. as a bonus. a very IMPORTANT bonus. I have to note that at the end of All in this Together jason is the one to remove kelsi's bowler hat and help her shoot a basket in a VERY flirtatious manner. and I AM all about putting the deweys in that situation, so help me god.

Zeke Baylor // Frédérick Gaudreau

he IS a sweetheart!!!!! a sweetheart!!!!! someday you WILL make the perfect crème brûlée, freddy!!! & your boys will love you for it!!!!

Martha Cox // Brock Faber

the glasses are giving nerd. and then THIS is giving pop and lock and jam and break.

Skater Who Plays the Cello // Jon Merrill

do I need to explain this one????? c'mon. he's so believable as a skater kid and ALSO as someone who plays the cello. the duality of man is contained in jonny "vibes" merrill.

(tbc)

#minnesota wild

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bettathanyou · 5 months

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hii i just wanted to say i really appreciate how much love you put into all of your writings, its all so heartwarming and detailed, and you capture cedrics character SO well. you have such an in depth understanding of his personality and its commendable. i really admire your dedication and love for this guy and how willing you are to share it with others :]

but ya i have a request, a headcanon list (or story/anything u wanna do) of Cedrics autistic behavior and maybe how he would act with an autistic partner? the idea of there being this mutual understanding of each others needs is really sweet to me. also i personally hc him with adhd alongside autism so it would be neat if that could get mixed in somehow, too :D no problem if not!

ANON. WTF YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY FR?? THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME, THANK YOU. I get so scared of MISCHARACTERIZING Cedric, so to hear that I have an in depth understanding of him from you made my entire day, month, YEAR. I hope this headcanon list is good and up to expectations!!

AuDHD Cedric The Sorcerer Headcanons (With Autistic S/O)

Coming from someone with AuDHD with an autistic best friend, I can't stress how much source material I have to speak about this sifkdiieis

FIRST THINGS FIRST. SENSORY ISSUES GALOREEEEE. That man will shrivel and die if he were ever in the modern era and came into direct contact with a microfiber towel.

A secret Headcanon I have (outside of the reasons I listed in my first headcanon list about Cedric!) Is he wears gloves BECAUSE Cedric has sensory/texture issues. His potion ingredients seem incredibly bizarre at times, and I'm sure the textures of them just get overwhelming at times. If you're wondering why the fingertips are exposed, he might need the extra grip to handle delicate objects, etc etc.

His robe is basically a weighted blanket, argue with the wall. He needs to be regulated somehow, and he's still a nervous wreck anyways

We know Cedric's speech is affected by his audhd. Dude has pedantic speech, overly emotive or deadpan, his volume control is non-existent when excited.

Expanding on that, his tendency to mix up words for spells seems a little... Neurospicy, on top of the anxiety

Forgets spells constantly. Not actually forget how to do them, just forgetting they exist cuz adhd

Has CHRONICALLY turned his workshop inside out because the thing Cedric was using just disappeared after he set it down!

(it was in his hand the whole time lol)

HC that outside of, yk, lack of personal space because no one knocks except Sofia, Autism rage whenever you're being interrupted from a task, especially something your fixated on, DRIVES HIM SO INSANE

Lack of patience. Just. Irritable, and same

His only friend (before Sofia) was an animal companion. C'mon y'all.

Music is so important to Cedric! It helps him regulate. He sings, he dances, he appreciates the dragon Acapella! Definitely uses music to stim, as well as dancing. He does it way too much. Audhd people usually are very connected to creative outlets such as music

Speaking of, his flying machine? CEDRIC IS AN INVENTOR. SO MANY INVENTORS ARE/WERE NEURODIVERGENT

Cedric is so genuinely shocked by kindness from Sofia even though she's consistent with it. That can definitely be trauma, but also feels like a lack of emotional permanence

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria SO BADDDDD Cedric would have a shutdown about it (thanks ADHD)

Prone to more shutdowns than meltdowns. But as we know, shutdowns inevitably lead to meltdowns anyways. I hc that Cedric is definitely seen as "melancholic" because his mood shifts as well as masking (poorly) his mental state after having meltdowns in private

Definitely tugs at his hair, bites himself, hits his head/fists on hard surfaces during meltdowns :((

Cedric's job as royal sorcerer is fun for the knowledge as special interest aspect, but the social parts leaves him in bad burnout, at least before his redemption

Still hates the social aspect of his job though

Potions are his special interest

The amulet of avalor was a hyperfixation, there I said it!

Due to trauma, but also to adhd, I think Cedric has no emotional object permanence. Dude for real acts a little TOO shocked towards Sofias kindness-

There is two types of audhd: sarcasm is the only language they're fluent in, and cannot distinguish sarcasm to save their life. Cedric is the first.

Sofia is the second type LMAO

Where's the same outfit everyday. Like. Cedric would buy the same set of clothes/outfits because too many choices are just overwhelming, and too many textures are Bad

Speaking of textures, again

Picky eater

I've never seen Cedric eat anything except those jellybean looking candies at his parents house

Jellybean/sweets as a safe food

I hc personally that Cedric is familiar with food magic because he conjures his own meals. I can't imagine people would respect his needs/wants enough to be especially accommodating, so he did it himself

Cedric talks to children as equals because of the lack of social hierarchy due to autism

However with the royals his age he is desperately trying to please people for the sake of acceptance (mood)

Okay

Rapid fire s/o headcanons!

Y'all either talk for hours, or parallel play without a word

Doing Nothing Together While Vibing Is Essential

Even though y'all understand each other well, sometimes the weird social rules you force yourself to mask with still stick. So sometimes y'all will have to ask "are you mad or are you unmasked rn"

Same thing with sarcasm. Taking jokes too literally so then you gotta ask for clarification. At this point it just adds to the joke xD

Cuddling/hugs is the best because THE DEEP PRESSUREEEEE

But also don't touch me when I need space pls

Infodumping whenever the chances arise

Seeing cedrics eyes sparkle his smile lines crease when talking about something that excited him feels like the warmest ray of sunshine

Cedric will sometimes get distracted by how much he loves you and loves seeimh you being happy while infodumping and will ask you to repeat things while apologizing profusely

Cedric will buy you little comfort objects you like or give you cool things he finds

Pebbling!!!

Sometimes y'all need to sleep alone for the sake of space, but other nights you gotta be in each other's skin

And both are okay!

Laying in bed doing a separate activity until bedtime is a good compromise when one of you doesn't want to spend the night, but still wants time together

Switching hyperfixations

Adopting each other's vocal stims/speech mannerisms

Suddenly you're saying Merlin's mushrooms UNIRONICALLY

When shutdowns happen, y'all have communication cards! Very helpful for both parties :))

You both doodled in the margins of each other's communication cards

Cedric chronically loses his and you now you're just letting him use yours until they manifest again 😭

Meltdowns, Cedric needs to be alone. He just can't handle ANYONE seeing it, even you

You respect that... And take care of him afterwards with whatever he needs

Whatever way you need support during shutdowns/meltdowns, Cedric accommodates without question

Just

So much love and acceptance and CHOOSING to put in the work in your relationship

Anyways, that's all I got! Feel free to add on! TYSM for the ask!! This was so lovely and self indulgent to write lmaooo

#cedric the sensational #cedricthesorceror #sophia the first #cedric x reader #cedric the sorcerer #sofia the first #autistic cedric #adhd cedric #also audhd #help this is more just audhd character analysis than headcanons

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