#and he cracked up and said that was the most me thing he'd ever seen

[mustainegf]

reader is insecure about her appearance and Jase comforts her :')

FIRST JASON FICCCC!!!!!

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ¹⁹⁸⁷

I watched him across the room, his back to me, scribbling down notes on a scrap of paper he'd found on the coffee table. Jason was lost in his own head, humming a bit to himself, tapping his fingers on his knee. That was Jason for you, dedicated. I loved it so much, but a part of me couldn't help but sometimes wonder how someone like that could have ever fallen for someone like me.

I turned away from him to look at my reflection in the mirror, and I caught sight of the small curve of my stomach, the way my thighs touched, how I never seemed to look like the girls in magazines.

The rational part of my mind could recognize that I was being too hard on myself, but at that moment, another voice inside me had almost grown comfortable to tearing myself apart. I let out a sigh that was a little too loud, and he must have heard it, because the next thing I knew, there Jason was right beside me, his hand on my back.

"What're you thinking?" he asked, his voice low and soft, as it was only when it was just us. His calloused fingers slid along my arm, warm and comforting.

"Nothing. Just…" I replied, though my voice cracked, belying me. He narrowed his eyes slightly, seeming to see through me. Jason would sometimes have this weird feeling for things, like he could tell the storm brewing in my head when I hadn't even said anything.

He spun me round to face him properly, his hands coming to rest on my arms. "I don't buy that for a second," he said, his lips twitching in a little smile. But his eyes held that softness that always melted my heart. "C'mon, what's bothering you?

I bit my lip, looking down. "I just...I don't know. I was looking at myself, and I guess I just don't feel good about how I look right now. It sounds stupid I know, but it gets to me."

Jason was silent for a moment, just easing his hands down to take mine. His thumbs circled over my palms in gentle arcs, soothing me, anchoring me. "Hey," he whispered, leaning his head down to look at me. "Listen, it's not stupid. It's real and I get it. But it's also not true. Not even close... you know that right?"

I shrugged, feeling my throat well up into a lump. "You're just saying that because you're nice, Jase. I mean look at the girls around you all of the time, the ones at your shows, the ones in the magazines. They're perfect. I just… I don't measure up."

He shook his head, and I could almost see the sad tinge in his eyes. "Those girls?" He waved his hand like he was shooing the very idea away. "They're not even real, babe. Half of 'em are pretending, the other half don't even know what they're getting into. And anyway, that's not what I want. You're what I want.

I opened my mouth to protest, but he leaned in closer, his forehead pressing softly against mine. "I know you're not seeing what I'm seeing," he said softly. "You're kind, and funny, and smart, and you're beautiful. And when I'm with you, that's what matters."

My face grew hot, and I couldn't force away the tiniest smile, though I knew I wanted to stick to my skepticism. "You make it sound so easy, Jason."

"That's 'cause it is." He chuckled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "I'm not saying this 'cause I think it's what you need to hear. I'm saying it because it's the truth. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that's the first thing I think every time I wake up next to you."

My cheeks flamed red, but his words picked at the lump in my chest until it slowly unwound. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone. Not those girls, not anything in the world."

Jason wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and I buried my face in his chest, letting myself just feel his heartbeat steady and strong against me.

He leaned back just far enough to cradle my face between his palms, his eyes delving into mine. "You're perfect to me. Every fuckin' inch, every curve, every part of you that you think is to big or too small. And even if you can't see it yet, I'm here to remind you, every single day if that's what it takes."

My throat constricted, but this time it wasn't from the insecurity. It was something else altogether, something warm. I nodded, burrowing my head against his shoulder as the words soaked into me like a sponge.

Jason didn't let go. He just kept holding me, and for a long time, we stood there wrapped up in each other.

[constantvigilante]

I may not be autistic but my roommates' habit of asking me, "Are we watching anything right now?" instead of, presumably, the clear and reasonable, "Want to watch something?" is slowly making me autistic, a little more every day

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

what about the 141 boys and konig rejecting the reader to keep things professional but when she starts getting closer with someone on base they try to get her back

Thanks for this one. I hope this is what you were looking for!🙂

141 + König Rejecting Reader, Then Regretting It

Warnings: angst, fluff at the end, swearing, crying

(Not me using this Simon gif again because it makes me weak in the knees🫡)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

It wasn't that Simon didn't like you. He truly did. It was more so the fact that he was your lieutenant, your superior, and he couldn't put you both at risk like that by accepting your romantic advances.

He'd felt horrible, his insides churning when he'd rejected you. He watched as your face fell in defeat and how you struggled not to cry in front of him. He didn't know how to make the situation better or what to say, so he watched as you fled from the room, wondering if you'd ever talk to him again.

He thought he'd be able to work through it. Work through knowing that you felt the same about him and that he blew it. But then came König.

You two had been friends for some time, but lately you two had seemed...closer. He saw the two of you together more frequently, whether it be training together, eating together, or even sitting on the couch together after missions. What hurt Simon the most was the fact that you seemed... happy with him.

The more Simon thought about it, the more he started to beat himself up. Thinking that his time was limited, he decided to talk to you about it. He just hoped that he wasn't too late.

~

He found you later that night, finishing up at the shooting range. He was thankful everyone else had gone to bed, leaving you two alone.

"Y/N." Simon called out, grabbing your attention. You whirled around to meet him face to face and gave the best smile you could muster. You hadn't really spoken to him since he rejected you, and the ache in your heart was still present.

"Sir." You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

Simon scratched at the back of his head nervously, unsure of what to say next. He had it planned out in his head, but now that you were here in front of him, his mind was a jumbled mess. "Don't date him."

Your eyes widened slightly as you absorbed his words. "I'm sorry? Date who?"

"König." Simon's voice came out cracked, and you could tell that he was nervous, an emotion not commonly associated with the masked man.

"König? Why would I be dating him?" You asked, bemused.

"I've seen the two of you together, and you seem... happy with him." Simon was avoiding your eyes, the mask he wore, unable to hide the emotions he was feeling.

You took a deep breath as you regarded the man carefully. Your mind was racing with a million different thoughts. Why did he care if you dated König? He was the one who rejected you.

"Why do you care if I do?" You tried, curious to see his reasoning. It wasn't like it was against the rules to date him. He wasn't in your squad.

Simon let out a huff of frustration, clearly annoyed at the situation, at the fact you couldn't just understand what he was trying to say. Words didn't come easy to Simon, and he wasn't sure what to say to make you understand.

"I don't want you to." Is all he was able to say.

"You don't want me to? Simon, what the hell is that supposed to mean? If this is because of us, you're the one who rejected me. And now you're telling me you don't want me seeing other people? I don't understand why-"

In a matter of seconds, Simon's balaclava was torn off, revealing his handsome face as he swiftly moved toward you, crashing his lips to yours, effectively cutting you off.

The kiss was brief, fleeting, as before you could even register what was happening, he was pulling away.

"Simon?" You asked, breathless as your cheeks began to burn pink.

"I don't want you to be with anyone, but me." His voice was barely above a whisper, but you'd still heard him.

"Simon, you told me no. You said that it wasn't smart and-"

"Fuck being smart. I can't get you out of my head, kid. You're always there. I've thought for so long that I'm better off alone, and I was okay with that. Until you. And for the first time in a long fucking time, I want something for myself. I want you."

You felt tears starting to form in your eyes as you watched him struggle for words. This was a side of Simon you've never seen before. He was showing you his vulnerability. "If you truly want me, Simon, I'm yours."

His ears perked up slightly as he lifted his gaze back to you. You saw a ghost of a smile on his lips as you slowly moved to cup his cheek. You let your eyes rake across his handsome features before landing them back on his lips. "Kiss me, Simon Riley."

And he did.

König-

"König. Do you have a second?" You asked, approaching the hooded mass of a man timidly.

"Of course, Maus. What's up?" He gave you a warm smile before turning back to scrub at the dirty hood in his hands.

"I was.. I wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you. They've gotten hard to ignore, and I felt I should tell you." You said, your voice shaking slightly.

You heard König sigh deeply as he turned his gaze to you. "We can't. It's not ethical. I'm sorry."

He turned back to his hood, giving the impression that the conversation was over.

You let out a shaky breath as you struggled to keep your composure. "Of course. I understand."

You quickly turned on your heel and fled from his room, desperate for him to not see you cry.

König listened to your fading footsteps and sighed deeply. He felt terrible. He honestly didn't know you felt the same way and frankly didn't know how to react. He'd liked you for a long time but was scared that being romantically entagled in this sort of field wasn't beneficial for either of you. It didn't help that he was terrible with words as well.

He was planning on approaching you about it, to try and smooth things over, but every time he tried, you were with Ghost.

He knew you and Ghost had a close relationship, but lately, it seemed to strengthen in a way that had Königs heart constricting.

Everywhere he went, there you were with the masked lieutenant. König was no fool. He'd heard the whispers of the women on base, even the men, of how attractive Ghost was. König could only hope that you weren't one of the ones that felt that way.

A few days had passed since the two of you spoke, and König was starting to lose his mind. He couldn't bear not talking to you, and as the days went on, he was terrified he'd lose you to Ghost.

~

König had decided to approach you during lunch one day, not caring that you were sitting next to your Lieutenant.

"Maus, can I speak with you." He asked, clearing his throat to get your attention away from Ghost.

You turned to König with a small smile, nodding your head. "Sure. What's up?"

"Alone, if that's okay." He murmured, turning his head toward the door.

You followed him wordlessly to the weapons room, and fortunately for the two of you, it was empty.

"Are...are you with him?" König stuttered out, his cheeks burning with shame as he ripped off his hood.

"Who, Ghost? No, he's just a friend. Same as you." You said, your voice laced with disdain.

Königs eyes left yours as they landed on the ground beneath you. He didn't know what to say. It was clear you were still upset with him, not that he could blame you.

"Is that all you wanted to ask me? If I'm with Ghost?" You asked, bouncing on the heels of your feet. The tension was palpable between the two of you, and you wanted nothing more than to run from it.

"I wanted that to be me. The one laughing with you. The one you went to after a long day. The one you wanted to be around." He said, his voice characteristically soft.

"It was. Then you rejected me. I didn't know if you wanted me around anymore." You admitted, your voice breaking slightly.

"Don't ever ever say that. Hell would freeze over before I'd ever stop wanting your company." Königs voice was stern, a complete contrast to how he was speaking moments before. "I want you, Y/N. I was a moron to reject you. I thought I was doing what was best, and then you pulled away completely. And I saw you with him. I just.. I dont.."

You took a step toward him and placed a warm hand on his cheek. "König."

He stopped his rambling as his eyes met yours once more. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand drifted down his cheek softly, your thumb slowly carrying his bottom lip.

You stood on your toes, barely able to reach his cheek with your mouth, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's okay, Kö."

His eyes opened as he looked down at you, a toothy grin making its way to his lips. "Be mine, Maus."

You nodded, and he was quick to press his lips to yours. His lips were softer than you'd imagined they'd be, and he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you closely as if he thought you'd leave if he didn't. Little did he know, in his arms was the only place you'd ever wanted to be.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You've never been so embarrassed in your life. You'd been in love with Johnny for years, and you truly had thought he felt the same. You thought that you made it to a point in your friendship that you could finally tell him how you felt.

So when he flat out rejected you, you were surprised, to say the least. He'd told you that while he respected that that's how you felt, he couldn't in good conscious get into a relationship with you. It wouldn't be professional.

You avoided him for a few days after that, as you were too embarrassed and hurt to face him. Johnny was no better. He felt horrible after you left and wondered if he made the right call. You were the love of his life. He just didn't think he deserved you, and he was so scared thinking about you getting hurt out in the field because of him.

What hurt him the most, though, was the fact that you started to hang out a lot more with Reyes, one of the guys from SpecGru who'd been on base a few weeks. The way you treated him was the way you treated Johnny before he went and screwed everything up.

Johnny began to find it impossible not to get riled up every time he saw you with Reyes. It was clear the Canadian had an interest in you, and the thought of you two being together had Johnny's insides churning.

~

Later that night, you'd walked into your room and were met face to face with Johnny, who was sitting on your bed.

"I'm a fool, Y/N." Johnny's voice caught your attention as you walked through your door.

"Jesus, Johnny. Scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?" Your hand flew to your heart as you caught your breath.

"Sorry. I just uh. I wanted to talk." His eyes flitted down to his hands, as he began to fiddle with a hang nail.

"About?" You crossed your arms defensively, desperate to protect the little piece of your heart he hadn't already hurt.

"I shouldn't have turned you down. I was a fool. I thought, by turning you away, I'd keep you safe. That our feelings for each other wouldn't get in the way of our responsibilities if I just ignored how I felt."

"And what changed in a matter of days?" Your tone was icy, and it made Johnny shudder. It wasn't a tone he liked being on the receiving end of, but he couldn't fault you for it.

"I saw you. With Reyes." Johnny admitted, his head downturned in shame. He didn't want to admit he was jealous, but it tore him up inside to see you laughing, and happy with a man that wasn't him.

"So you're only telling me this because you're jealous."

"No. I'm telling you this because I've harbored feelings for you for years. I tried to push you away because I thought it was what was best. And I was wrong. Seeing you with Reyes made me realize that. I want you, Y/N. I always have. I just hope I'm not too late." You heard his voice quiver slightly toward the end, and it made your defensive walls crumble.

"You want me, Johnny? Truly?" You asked, standing straight as you watched him watch you.

Johnny stood off your bed and strode up to you. "I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on you."

And that was all that was needed for you to press your lips to his. The man you'd been in love with for years, was finally yours.

John Price-

"While I respect how you feel, it's inappropriate. You're my subordinate, I'm your superior." John stated curtly. He watched as your shoulders slumped in defeat, as you struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

"Understood, sir. I apologize for bringing it up." You gave a firm nod as you turned to the door.

"Y/N. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"Of course, sir. Enjoy your day." You a small smile before exiting, letting the tears free fall once you made it far enough away from his office.

Price slouched forward in his chair and ran his hands along his face. He felt like a total asshole. He wasn't blind. He knew you had feelings for him, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't return them.

You were his ray of sunshine in every sense of the word, and he'd do anything for you. He just knew the risks that came with superior/subordinate relationships, and he wasn't okay with those. He didn't want to see you get hurt because of him.

A few days passed since the incident, and he'd seen no sign of you. You usually would start your mornings with him, but he hadn't seen you since that day in his office.

He made his way to the cafeteria, stopping short when he saw you sitting with Soap.

Price gritted his teeth as he watched you joke around with him. He knew it was childish, immature even. While he was doing his best to push his feelings for you aside, you were making it impossible for him.

It went on like this for nearly a week. Every time that you'd usually come to see Price, he'd now find you hanging out with the scot.

He'd finally had enough of it, his jealousy getting the better of him, as he stormed off to his office.

~

"Hey, Price told me to send you to his office." Gaz had informed you later that day.

"Oh? Am I in trouble?" You questioned, chuckling lightly.

"Who knows, he does seem a little grumpy today." Kyle sent you a sympathetic smile before walking toward the barracks.

"Great." You murmured as you made your way to Price's office.

~

"Y/N." John greeted you as you walked through the door. "Close the door."

"Sir. What can I do for you?" You asked, pushing the door closed with a slam. Price never called you into his office like this.

He watched you for a moment, not saying anything as he carefully studied your movements. He could tell you were nervous.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, regarding you carefully as he slowly started to talk toward you.

"What are you referring to, sir?" You knew what he was asking, but you didn't feel like being shut down yet again by the man.

"You said you have feelings for me." He continued to stalk toward you. "I'm asking if that was that true?"

You gulped audibly as you began to step backward, away from him. "Yes, sir. But I realize that it was inappropriate."

"I'm your captian."

"I know."

"Your boss."

"I know."

"The man who's hands you put your life in, every time I send you out on a mission."

"I know."

John stared at you, his gaze intense as he tried to read you. He wanted to know what was going on in that beautiful head of yours. "And, I'm the man that's going to make you scream out his name tonight."

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him carefully. He'd effectively backed you into the corner of his office, and you'd heard the "click" of the lock on his door.

"But you said-"

"Fuck what I said. I'm done doing this dance. There's no point in beating around the bush any longer. I want you, and I want this. If you want me, get over here."

Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, as you threw yourself onto John, your lips latching to his in a heated, desperate kiss.

Needless to say, John was a man of his word, and it didn't take long before he had you screaming his name that day, and many others to come.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"It wouldn't work between us. We've both got so much going on, and with this job, I think it would be a bit too much for us to handle." Kyle said, smiling sadly.

"Oh! Yeah, sure. That makes sense. I get it." You nodded your head vigorously, your eyes moving anywhere but your best friends face. "Silly of me to even bring it up."

"Y/N." Kyle started, trying to walk up to you.

"No. No, really. It's okay. I have to go anyway, I have a bunch of stuff to do." You gave him a sad smile before briskly making your way out of the room.

Kyle felt his stomach drop as he heard a sniffle come from the hallway, knowing it was you. The more he rethought what he said to you, the worse he felt. He's had feelings for you for quite some time, but he was always too worried to act on it. His job meant the world to him, and frankly, he was scared of that being jeopardized.

Desperate to try to repair your relationship, however, he set out to find you.

~

Kyle found you later that day in the training room, practicing hand to hand combat with Alejandro.

He felt his blood boil at the way the man touched you. He knew it wasn't fair to Alejandro, but seeing him touch you like that sparked something in Kyle. It was in that moment that he knew he didn't want to push down his feelings for you any longer.

"Mind if I take over?" He asked as he approached. "Been needing to blow off some steam."

You and Alejandro stopped mid fight, the two of you struggling to catch your breath. "Alright, hermana, same time tomorrow?"

"Of course. Thank you for helping, by the way." You slapped his shoulder playfully .

"Anytime. Kyle, be seeing you." He gave Kyle a pat on the back as he made his way out.

Silence fell in the room as you and Kyle watched Alejandro leave.

"Hey." Kyle said after some time.

"Hey." You replied, rubbing at your arm nervously. "Did you actually want to train or?"

Kyle swallowed thickly, his eyes darting around the room. "I just wanted to talk. I felt bad. For earlier."

"Nothing to apologize for. You said your peace and I can't fault you for that." You gave him a sad smile.

"No, I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have turned you down. I thought in the moment I was doing the right thing."

"And now?"

"And now, I realize that the only right thing for me is you." The sincerity in his voice had your heart skipping a beat, as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "I was a fool for thinking otherwise. You're all I want."

"What will you do about it?" You asked, your eyes flickering to his lips.

"If you'll let me, I'd kiss you." He gave you a warm smile as he leaned down toward you, his warm breath fanning across your lips. Your eyes falling shut was all the consent he needed.

And, after waiting for nearly 5 years, you'd finally gotten the kiss you'd been waiting for, with the man you loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for reading!

[inkedinshadows]

Red or Black

Pairing: Azriel × Cassian's sister!Reader

Summary: Cassian insists on helping his sister out when she needs to choose an outfit for a date.

Warnings: brief allusions to sex

Word count: 908

A/N: I was watching Friends, so of course this silly little blurb happened. If you're a fan of the show, you probably already know where this is going 👀

You had a date with Azriel tonight, and you didn't know what to wear.

You two had been going out together for a few months now, and you were both smitten with each other. You were sure things would become more serious very soon. But for now, your time together consisted mainly of dates that usually resulted in spending the night with him. You would mostly cuddle until you fell asleep, but a few times, cuddles had led to discarded clothes, heavy sighs and pleasure like you had never felt before.

You wanted tonight to be one of those times, and you wanted to look alluring and sexy. You wanted to feel alluring and sexy.

But you couldn't decide which lacy slip to wear under your dress to surprise Azriel when he'd take it off, so you picked up both options and walked out of your room to ask the most fashionable person you knew for advice.

Mor was lounging on a couch in the living room and you smiled at your friend.

“I really need your opinion about something,” you said as a way of greeting.

She sat up straighter, her brows raising, but when you stepped through the doorway, you noticed your brother sprawled over the armchair. You quickly hid the slips behind your back.

“Hi, Cass.” You gave him an awkward smile. “I didn't know you were already home.”

He shrugged. “I came back earlier and I thought I'd wait for Rhys here.”

“Yeah, yeah, always talking about yourself, Cassian,” Mor chimed in, waving a hand in the air to dismiss him. She turned to you with a smile. “What do you need my opinion on?”

You glanced at your brother. He was looking at you expectantly, no idea of what you were struggling with.

You backed away a step. “Maybe you could come into my room and we can talk?”

She nodded, already rising from her seat, but Cassian leaned forward in his chair. “Oh, come on, Y/N. I'm your brother. You don't want my opinion?”

You clutched the undergarments behind your back with one hand while grabbing Mor's wrist with the other to drag her out of the room.

“Not really, no,” you replied quickly. “But thanks, Cass.”

“Y/N, you're my little sister. What can you possibly need that I can't help you with?”

Mor was snickering now, probably having seen what you were trying to hide by her new position at your side. You felt terribly awkward and embarrassed, but you knew Cassian wouldn't let it go easily and a part of you wanted to make him feel just as embarrassed.

“Alright, big brother,” you made sure your words were dripping with sarcasm, which made him frown.

You let go of Mor's hand and held up the two slips for him to see. One was red, with some intricate swirling patterns, but still the most revealing thing you had ever bought. The other one was black, much simpler and just as see-through as the first one.

“Which one of these should your little sister wear,” you went on, watching as his eyes went wide with shock, “so that your best friend would want to do her?”

Cassian looked away and leaned back in his chair, his face contorted into a scowl as he muttered, “The red one.”

You chuckled at his reaction, and while normally you would crack a joke and go up to him to kiss his cheek, right now was probably not the best moment. Especially because Mor reached out to study the lingerie you had displayed, and you waited patiently for her input on the matter.

“I never thought I'd say this, but I agree with Cassian.” Her fingers brushed the thin fabric. “Actually, you have to tell me where you bought it. No one could resist this.”

You smiled as you looked down at the small piece of clothing. Red was your color, you knew that. It complimented your skin tone and your hair. But you were leaning more toward the black one, thinking that maybe Azriel would prefer it.

“You sure?” you questioned. “The red one?”

Mor nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely. Azriel won't be able to keep his hands off you. He—”

“Oh, yes, Mor. Please go on.”

You both turned to your brother, now glowering at you from his seat.

“I mean it, Mor. Go on,” he grumbled. “Tell us exactly what Azriel would do to my sister. Pretend I'm not here. Don't let my presence bother you, I'm begging you.”

Even as heat rose to your cheeks, you bit your lip to keep from smiling at his tone. He did have a point, though. While you might be comfortable talking about these things with Mor, and Cassian might imagine you and Azriel were past chaste kisses, you definitely didn't want to discuss what happened behind closed doors with him. He was still your big brother.

“Anyway, thanks guys.” You offered one last smile as you began to walk out. “I'm going to get ready now.”

When Azriel knocked on the front door an hour later, Mor and Cassian were still in the sitting room, Rhys now with them. Your friends wished you a nice evening, but your brother refused to even look in your direction and opted to glare at the wall with his arms crossed.

Luckily, Azriel didn't seem to notice or care as you took his hand and followed him outside.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate

[earthtooz]

quick rin hc because i need these thoughts to go somewhere before it eats me alive.

when you first starting dating itoshi rin, you never thought he'd be the clingy type.

and your theory proved true for the first few months of your relationship. most physical affection was initiated by you, you were the one holding his hand, latching yourself onto his arm, and leaving kisses on his cheek so that if he was uncomfortable, he could easily shake you off.

not that rin ever did. if you weren't so nervous, you would've seen the crack in his apathetic facade, his face turning a traitorous shade of red.

well. now that you're a year or so down into the relationship, it's safe to say that you were very wrong about your assumption.

itoshi rin loves by making his mark. he's only happy once he's sure that everyone knows who you're with.

whether that's with a protective arm around your waist, paparazzi photos of the two of you together in your own little world, or showing you off in clothes of his (or hickeys), rin will happily give you all of him.

he gets a little too grumpy when you start your day before him, making him miss the chance to cherish your warmth and admire your beauty for a little longer.

he pats your side of the bed blindly and groans when he doesn't feel you there, the space pitifully empty when he lugs his body over to where you should be. rin should get up and find you, really, but he hates starting the day when you're not the first thing he sees.

fortunately for him, you hear him from where you were doing your morning routine in the bathroom.

opening the en suite door, you're amused to see your boyfriend like this, subtly distraught and splayed all over the mattress.

"good morning, you," is what you say to him whilst walking over, now feeling rejuvenated and ready to start the day. that was your first mistake because rin then all but drags you down onto the bed with him, encasing you in his arms.

he hasn't even said good morning back.

"hey! let go, jerk!" you huff, hitting his chest lightly.

"no."

"rin!"

"no."

"what do you mean-"

"no."

"rin, c'mon, let me go."

"no. now shut up, wanna hold you."

as if helping his argument, he throws the covers over the two of you, sighing quietly in satisfaction when you return his affection, amused enough to listen to his command. "y'know it's 9am right now. shouldn't you be doing your workout?"

"don't care. shut up."

"so mean. you're lucky i'm with you, even if you're horrible," you say, mostly as a joke. he can tell by the airiness of your voice, but rin stills a little in your arms before pushing more of his weight on top of you, placing a kiss to your jaw for good measure. several kisses, actually.

"shut up. please?"

"you're so stupid," the breathy laughter that escapes you only causes rin to tuck himself further into your warmth.

rin also gets a little too grumpy when you tell him that you're going out with your friends. at this point, he stops bothering to hide his disappointment. paired with a pout, he looks at you with such glossy eyes when he asks 'what about our self-care night?' that you have to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks and kiss him silly.

you promise him another night and he's placated when you tell him that you'll give him a full spa treatment.

he grabs onto your shirt to avoid you straying too far. whenever you’re together and see something in a store window, you take a few steps before being inevitably dragged back by itoshi rin, who has a masterful poker face plastered to counter your ‘why did you do that?’ expression.

'don't go where i can't follow' type of boyfriend- why is he dramatic... like babes... i'm going to the bathroom... no you can't come with me...

anyways i'm shutting up now before i ramble too much. so. yeah. clingy!rin is really just... something else...

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI

Warnings: NSFW, soft smut, sub!jason, praise kink, riding, blowjob, boob sucking

"Let me take care of you."

Jason came through the window of your shared room, tired and spread the scent of blood, gunpowder, and musk. He was already peeling off the heavy chest plate as he entered your room, his mood slightly lifting as he saw you in bed with your reading glasses on and his book in your hands.

He'd be lying if he said that seeing you in his shirt that hung loosely around your shoulders didn't turn him on right there, but he was just so exhausted. He doesn't think he could please you tonight, even though he said he would after all the dirty messages sent back and forth just a few hours ago.

You picked up his tired state just as he came in. You bookmarked his novel, placing it carefully on the bedside desk together with your glasses before quickly getting up and helping him remove his armour and tactical pants, his compressed shirt following suit.

"Sorry, ma. Last hour of patrol was a tough one," Jason grunts, rolling his shoulders back in circular motions, which you quickly noted.

You shushed him, telling him it was okay as you dug through your wardrobe, looking for a shirt and sweatpants for your boyfriend.

You threw a pair of dark grey sweats to Jason, looking for a shirt for him as he puts on the sweatpants.

"Don't need a shirt, babe. Just come to bed with me." He mumbles, cracking his neck, trying to feel some sort of relief.

Your eyebrows scrunch together in worry for him. They quickly rise as an idea pops into your head.

You walk over to Jason, who is already sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard, and blanket half draped across his legs.

"Want a massage, my love?" You asked innocently, wanting to help out your oh so tense man.

Jason always loves it when you call him that. Your love. Yours. That's right. He's yours. Jason has devoted his love and loyalty to you and only you. In Jason's eyes, you are the most beautiful, perfect woman he's ever seen. Even if you had curves or folds or scars or stretch marks or whatever you found a part of your body as an insecurity, he'd still see you like you are a beautiful sculputre, handcrafted by the most talented artist ever, or even carefully sculpted by God himself, and brought to life just for him. For Jason. For someone who has committed unforgivable things. Yet you're here, and you stay with him.

Jason sighs deeply, a weak yet encouraging smile stretching across his lips. "Sounds good, mama."

You smiled at his acceptance as you threw your leg over his thighs, straddling his waist. You place a soft kiss on his forhead before laying your hands on his broad shoulders, squeezing them as sighs and grunts escape Jason's lips.

"Feels good, baby," he was able to mutter. "'m sorry."

Your face displayed confusion. "I was supposed to be the one to take care of you," he says. You roll your eyes, smirking, knowing that he was referring to his previous texts.

"It can work both ways, lovely," you reply, your massage on his shoulder becoming more firm. Jason smile grew wider, leaning forward to place a kiss on your collarbone and his hands resting on your hips.

With every squeeze of his shoulders, your grip became firmer. And then boldly, you gently rolled your hips against his.

Jason sucked in a sharp breath. "And what do you think you're doing," Jason grunts.

You look at him innocently. "What do you mean? Just taking care of you, sweetheart," you say, grinding yourself against his semi-hard crotch again.

Jason tries his best to contain himself. "You're a god damn minx. You know that, yeah?"

You shrug a shoulder, a cheeky smirk growing on your lips. "You've said a couple of times here and there."

Jason scoffed as he pulled your hips closer to him, attaching your lips together with teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance.

Jason shuffled, trying to flip your current position, bht you held onto the headboard, keeping you in place.

"Didn't I say I was the one who was taking care of you tonight?" You said, sending a sharp stare into Jason's eyes. You lightly sigh, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, your moist lips dragging along his skin.

"You're exhausted. Let me take care of you. Please?" You whined, rolling your hips against him once more.

Jason mentally cursed at himself as he found you so fucking cute and hot at the same time. "I'm all yours, mama," he said, kissing your shoulder.

Your eyes shimmered in excitement, and Jason swore his heart melted.

Your hands roamed the bumps and curves of his abs that had different shapes and sizes of scars littered across his torso. You then placed wet kisses along his chest as you continued to grind against him, just for a little further teasing.

"Fuck- Y/n, please," you barely heard Jason whisper out.

You stopped what you were doing and kissed his lips. "What is it, love?"

"Please... Please just touch me already. Need- Ngh. Need to feel ya," Jason whined, bucking his hips up as you felt his cock was diamond hard.

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "So polite, hm, Jason?" You say, slipping your hands past his waistband, pulling his sweats down for his already leaking dick to pop out. You licked your lips at the sight.

"Just sit back and relax for me, alright, my love?" You remind him as Jason nods.

You move your hand to wrap around his cock, your thumb rubbing over the flowing tip, precum dripping down. Your hand starts to pump up and down on his dick as Jason throws his head back, stifling back his whimpers and moans, his grip tightening around your waist.

You pouted at him and stopped your movements. "Don't tell me you're trying to keep quiet, Jay. Let me hear you, yeah? Be good f'me," you encouraged him.

"Mm-ngh.. ye-yes, okay, ma," he whines. "Just... Just please move- fuck."

You kiss his nose. "My sweet, good boy," you whisper, earning another pathetic whine out of Jason. "Mama's gonna take such good care of you," you say, kissing your way down his chest, his abdomen, your lips grazing across his happy trail and finally gking up to where his red tip ached for contact.

You kissed the slit that leaked the milky seed as your hand went down to his balls, applying slight pressure, which made Jason's fingers that was tangled in your locks tug against them and his other hand that made creases in the sheets has its knuckles turn white.

Jason's sounds of desperate whimpers and whines are music to your ears. You finally wrap your lips around his length, your tongue swirling around the underside.

"F-fuck!" Jason cried out. "Mm.. good, that f-feels so good, baby."

You responded with a muffled hum as your cheeks were stuffed with his cock.

You felt it twitch in your mouth, and before Jason could reach his high, you pulled away from his length with a pop sound as Jason whined with a tear coming out of the corner of his eye from the loss of warmth around him.

You kneeled up, holding against the headboard for balance. Jason looked up at you with glassy, teary, and confused eyes.

"You're gonna be good for me again, yeah?" You question him, Jason nodding in response, willing to do anything for you.

You shifted yourself so that your sopping cunt was hovering directly above his tip, just begging for more of you.

"Please, please, I need you so bad," Jason groaned, trying to lift his hips up, and you couldn't help but giggle at his neediness.

"You'll get me, don't worry, baby," you say, letting yourself sink onto his throbbing cock, your nails digging into Jason's shoulders.

Sure you and Jason fucked multiple times before, but you still couldn't get use to how big he was every time he fucks you.

You laid your head on his shoulder, adjusting yourself to his size before pushing yourself up, and then down again, your body bobbing back and forth, the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room.

"Shit, love-" You choked out. "So... So fucking big... you feel so so good. Ngh- My good boy."

As Jason is fully unable to form any words or sentences from his euphoric state, more tears slip from his eyes. You quickly notice, your hands rushing to his face, wiping them away with your thumb. You made sure to make eye contact with Jason as you put your thumb in your mouth, licking away his salty tears, which made Jason throw his head back, followed by a desperate moan.

"Every part of you just gotta taste so good, huh, pretty boy?" You taunt, enjoying seeing face scrunch up in pleasure and need.

As you ride him, you comb your fingers through his hair, a handful of locks in your hand as you tug it back to make him look up at you. You puff your chest out at him as Jason licks his lips.

"Want a taste, love?" You ask as Jason nods his head vigorously. You hum in response, kissing his forhead before pulling his head closer to your boobs, letting his mouth attach to one of them.

Jason's eye rolls to the back of his head, and his mouth is covered in his dribble as his hand massages your other breast. His tongue brushes over your nipple back and forth, making you moan in pleasure.

"Fuck, baby, I can’t- I just need to-" Jason stutters, his voice muffled as his mouth is currently occupied. His arm wraps around your back as he flips you two over. "Let me fuck you, please, mama. I can take care of ya," He begs, pleading eyes watching over you.

Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek as you nod. "Yeah.. Yeah, you can take care of me, my love," you assure him. Jason buries his head into your neck as he thrusts his hips into you, his tip reaching thay sweet spot that always made your back arch.

"Fuck, yes! Right there, Jay, oh god," you whine, nails dragging down his back, leaving streaks of red behind. "Feel- ngh, feel so good, m-my sweet boy."

Jason's spine shivers at the constant praise, his thrusts becoming deeper and faster. "Love y-you. I love you so much, Y/n. Fuckin' love you," Jason was finally able to grunt out, feeling his climax reach.

But for you, that's when you started seeing stars. It wasn't the first time Jason told you he loved you. But every time he did say it, it always had a special effect on you. For this time, his little daily confession had you cum before you could even process his words.

"Fuck!" Jason hisses. "Just a little longer, baby." He says, continuing to pump in and out of you.

"Nghh.. fuck- my love. Always so perfect. I love you too. My- oh! My perfect boy," you stutter. Jason's arms hold themselves tight around your body, your skin clamped together as his seed shoots out.

Jason continues to rude out his high as he deeply panted, leaving weak kisses on your shoulder. As Jason pulls out, he reaches for the cloth inside the bedside drawer and using the water from the cup you always leave on the desk to dampen it.

He silently cleans you up and lazily throws it onto the floor, saying he'll deal with it in the morning as he lays back down on your chest. Your fingers roam free through his tangled hair, whispering sweet nothings to him before the two of you fall asleep in each others embrace.

[loves4ge]

office hours

nanami kento x gn!reader

workplace romance

you had to give it to him, the man was dedicated. you don't think you've ever seen nanami kento not working. it was actually kind of disconcerting. made you want to almost invite him for happy hour. almost. you looked at your little office desk succulent, the small mug of markers and pencils, and a tiny picture of you and your little cat.

you thought it was quite plain, but compared to nanami's near-empty desk, it might as well be festive.

"did you send over the email yet?" that was nanami. he asked you politely, in a measured voice that was distant without being rude. you turn to face him, god, he looked good in that tie. your mind processed his question slowly, as you just stared at him.

"um, sorry- the email? what e- oh! yeah, i sent it. sorry, i'm feeling a bit scatterbrained, i suppose." you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. nanami would not be invited to your funeral. you'd die a second time if that happened.

"alright then." and that was it. the quota of your talking time with nanami today was up and you'd have to survive on that sentence to fuel your crush on him. the gravelly tone in which he said alright, you could almost imagine how he'd sound like when he would say sweetheart.

god, you sounded psychotic.

"i'm not a psycho. i'm not a psycho," you repeated in whispers, typing your keyboard with aggressive strokes.

the clock struck 12, and people started filing out of the office for lunch. you texted a friend to see if she could join you for lunch but fate likes to kick you at the worst times possible; she was going to lunch with her coworkers.

your coworkers were nice, but you'd rather not spend a minute more with them unless at gunpoint. even then, you'd probably weigh the pros and cons. you'd love to have lunch with nanami, but after he turned your first two invites down, you never really built up the courage to ask again.

you stood up, making sure you had your wallet on you. you glanced at nanami; he was still seated. pursing your lips, your fingers curled into a fist out of hesitation.

"no plans for lunch today, huh?" you asked, an awkward smile painted onto your face. lord have mercy, your nerves were so visible, it was painful.

"i do." you immediately thought of another place where he could say that phrase, with you standing opposite him—you were psychotic.

"oh, well. guess you can't keep me company today, haha." you wanted to close your eyes out of sheer embarrassment. who says haha?

"that's not true. i could, if you wanted me to." your eyes shot towards him. suddenly, your mouth was dry.

"uh, well. so you'd like to have lunch with me?"

"yes, i'd love to." oh my god, he said love.

"you're sure?" he cracked a slight smile at that, and you were sure your heart was going to burst. in fact, there was 20% chance you were already dead and this was your reward for suffering through a lifetime of humiliations. you weren't sure if this was an appropriate time to pinch your arm to check.

"yes, i'm sure. you have any place in mind?"

nanami kento was going to kill gojo satoru for being the inconvenient piece of shit to ever live. not only did he have the most unserious "emergencies", he also had them at the worst possible times.

first, it was when his beautiful coworker, the one with a blue-potted succulent, invited him for lunch. nanami had noticed them when it was their first day at work, their desks being so close to each other and all. and who wouldn't notice them? nanami certainly had.

the second time nanami had to help with an emergency, it was when you invited him to dinner. this was three weeks after the first invite, so it was obvious that you had worked yourself to ask him. god, it killed him to turn you down.

"no plans for lunch today, huh?" he turned from his desk to look at you. this was a month after the dinner invite. he didn't have any plans for lunch today. he was behind on work, actually. he needed this lunch hour to catch up on things. besides, he had a big breakfast. he could always get something quick to eat at his desk from a convenience store.

"i do."

he was going to kill gojo satoru, right after he took you out for lunch.

[six-eyed-samurai]

YOU HAVE 30 UNREAD MESSAGES...

SUMMARY: Rindou loves you and all but...you really aren't supposed to be spamming his phone during a meeting right now.... A/N: This is absolute crack, based off a recent convo and dedicated to my unhinged moot @plebbypebblepleb WARNINGS: Sanzu on drugs and swearing

>>look at this cat I found

>>he's so cute!!!!!!

>>IM GONNA DIE FROM CUTENESS can we pls pls adopt him???

>>never mind

>>HE BIT ME

Rindou felt his eye twitch. He discreetly swiped away the notifications on his pinging phone away under the table. Thankfully no one had noticed yet, although Ran was grinning slyly at him he always was.

Twenty messages.

Barely ten minutes had even gone by in the meeting.

Luckily he had turned off volume for his phone. Mikey wouldn't be too happy to have his Bonten meeting so frequently interrupted so unprofessionally. Rindou didn't have much interest in being laughed at or questioned by the others either.

>>riiiiiiin

>>I was watching some videos

>>would you become a 100 foot boa constructor who eats British children boiled and gets skinned to be used as socks or boots for a Russian lady I consumed three centuries ago (she tasted like coconut)

I'm in a meeting<<

And no???<<

Rindou continued to nod at Mikey's words, doing his utmost best to divide his attention between his rapidly typing fingers and his boss while Ran ducked his head under the table curiously and came up with a wink and a very obvious smirk. Koko eyes them both suspiciously.

He was used to this. Absolutely. One thing that came with dating you was that you had a tendency to spam his phone with updates of what you were doing, odd things you had seen, the most creative of questions and pictures bordering on unhinged.

He wouldn't change it for anything, of that Rindou was certain. He loved you to Pluto and back and in an every day fight he'd take your side over Ran (even despite the elder Haitani’s “miserable” theatrics of supposed betrayal). The texts livened up the dreary work of being part of the number one most wanted criminal gang.

But…

>>I'M NOT FINISHED

>>or drink fruit juice that will give you the seven most deadly diseases

Both are terrible<<

>>[image attached]

WTF<<

>>Like it?? <33

I don't want close up pics of your feet<<

>>how dare you

…it was quite the inconvenience when he was supposed to be working.

Like right now.

Rindou reached up and rubbed his temples. Mikey was getting to the important part and he was really struggling to concentrate. It wasn't like you didn't know he was busy. He had specifically mentioned it today. Rindou couldn't fault you either - this was just your love language and…this was probably revenge for him misplacing your favourite shirt.

He briefly considered ignoring your texts for now, until he could answer them later. But then it'd probably spiral to a 100+ and the vibrations were really starting to get to him. And he did once promise to never ignore anything you said after you apologized for talking too much. You might even call him.

Ugh. What a conundrum.

Ran’s smile widened and a new notification sprang up on Rindou’s phone.

>>Ah ah ah lil bro

>>texting your gf in a meeting?

>>you're very obvious about it

>>I'm sure Mikey will notice soon~~

Great. Two idiots were spamming up his phone now. Couldn't he ever catch a break? He caught Kakucho’s frown at him and adjusted his poker face again.

Shut up<<

You're on your phone too<<

>>I'm just warning you~~

Rindou exhaled sharply and kicked his brother under the table. Childish, but Ran was a child and he deserved it.

>>Rin???

>>guess what!!

>>my fav singer just dropped a new album!!

>>can we buy it later

>>pleaseeeeee

“Haitani Shithead! What are you doing under the table?”

Crap, Sanzu caught him. Rindou shrugged, leaning away from his side-eyeing neighbor. “Nothing, just need to arrange some things on my phone for some debts to be collected,” He lies casually.

The pinkhead is probably too high to realize the holes in the fib. Thankfully he lets it go with another pop of a pill. “Sure, don’t gotta be so secretive.”

“Also, don’t call me Shithead.”

>>[3 images attached]

>>chat wake up what is going on in my friends gc rn

Yes, Rindou wanted to scream, he absolutely had to be secretive…with the cursed pictures you had just sent him. Thirty unread messages already and the meeting wasn’t even ending yet! God, Ran wasn’t helping either - he too was now spamming Rindou’s chat.

>>rindou and (y/n)

>>sitting in a tree

>>k

>>i

>>s

You know what, he could make his excuses later. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Rindou massaged his temples again, sighed deeply and looked down on his phone.

He blocked the both of you.

***

Of course it came back to bite his ass when he went home later that night: having taken extreme offense to the block you had promptly banished Rindou out of your once shared bedroom and he was exiled to the couch.

Which was being hogged by Ran who claimed he was there first for his sixth nap of the day.

Maybe next time he should just “lose” his phone before a meeting.

[glorismorningstar]

THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: girlfriend!Lute x f!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x overprotective!Vaggie + f!bodyguard!reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x f!reader

Summary: Charlie is asked to attend a meeting with Heaven, and Vaggie asks Y/N to keep an eye on her. Begrudgingly, she agrees, but not without taking the necessary precautions. A dreaded yet hoped-for encounter occurs, which triggers unforgettable memories.

Warnings: daddy issues, canon-typical violence, Adam being Adam, brief lesbian smut, fluff, angst, grief, sadness, mentions of sex, WLW

A/N: I'm fully aware that the trailer was a major flop, but this story is purely self indulgent and has been in my head for so long that I need to get it out :)

| OPENING // PART 1 // PART 2 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS LATER…

“So, what do you think?” Alastor asked as he turned off the TV. He had just shown us the commercial he'd made for the hotel, and while Charlie and Vaggie were off-put and disappointed, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.

“That was hysterical,” I laughed, resting my elbows on top of the backrest of the couch. “May I have a copy of that?”

“Y/N!” Vaggie barked.

“Right, right!” I cleared my throat. While this was one of the most entertaining things I'd seen in a long while - since that dipshit Vox was unable to put on anything good in the seven years that Alastor was gone, or even before that - it wasn't oriented to what we wanted to do for sinners, it did not once mention redemption or our ambition to help souls checking out into Heaven.

“I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?” Vaggie snapped.

“Uh, yeah, one note… Alastor…” Charlie hesitated, trying to find the words to criticize the commercial without aggravating Alastor, whose grin hadn't wasted a beat in growing strained. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously amazing! But, um, maybe the tone is a bit off.”

Alastor, tilting his head a little and furrowing his brows in his own fashion of a glare, was visibly offended, expression betraying his ever-present smile. I had always found his grin curious, ever since the day he and Rosie had rescued me, I wondered about his choice to smile permanently. A smile is a powerful tool, he'd say, it keeps your friends inspired, your enemies guessing, and assures that no matter what happens, you're the one in control.

“We want people to want to come here, but this makes it look… um…” she continued, attempting to word her sentence properly. 

“Bad. The word you're looking for is bad.” Vaggie completed. While Sera had taught me to be polite, her brutal honesty was refreshing. 

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor said and tilted his head to the side, neck rolling with a crack.

“Agreed, but comedy isn't the purpose of the ad.” I said with a soft tilt of my head.

“It didn't say anything about how we're trying to save demons from the extermination, which is the whole fucking point.” 

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial is to let sinners know we are trying to help them.” Said Charlie.

“Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and everyone remembers me from my radio show - the proper medium to express oneself,” he said, holding his finger up for emphasis, which made me chuckle, then I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on my conjoined hands. “But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement! So I had a little fun with it.”

His inability - and unwillingness - to hide his thinly veiled contempt for modern technology never failed to amuse me. I was among the oldest beings in creation, only younger than very few souls, but I had grown accustomed to television, cinema and social media. His insistence on radio broadcasts and their superiority was quite humorous.

“Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it?” Vaggie said, getting up from her seat. She was about to lose her patience, and I couldn't blame her. This was an important thing, for it to work out, it was vital that it was taken seriously by everyone involved. “This is not what we want to represent us! When you showed up here a week ago, you said you would help run this hotel, instead you're mocking us! No one is gonna come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

As if on cue, a pink gloved hand raised from the couch opposite the fireplace. I sighed and tilted my head to look at him, boredly smushing my cheek against my hand. “What?”

“If'n ya filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust asked, four fingers pointing at himself.

“I don't know if you can, but you most certainly may not.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. His views on sex were the polar opposite of mine. Heavenly standards had always discouraged giving in to such temptations, but that was one among the many ways in which I had rebelled. Nevertheless, for me sex had always been a way to express strong feelings of affection rather than just a simple exchange of bodily fluids. When I lived in Heaven, Lute and I had always made love with the purpose of worshiping and pleasuring each other, while Angel did so simply for the sake of reaching the climax, which I found immature and foolish.

“Angel, you're a porn star.” Vaggie pointed out with visible dismissal of his idea.

“A famous porn star!” He corrected. “I'll have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to get in.”

“We're not filming a porn as a commercial.” Vaggie spoke, as if it wasn't obvious enough to the effeminate man.

“Why not?”

“Where do I begin? It's disgusting, it's unrealistic, it's immoral, and it makes little to no sense, among other things.” I listed out, counting each point on my fingers while I gazed at him with a grimace.

“No sense? Sex sells, don't it?” He said, rubbing his fingertips together. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Mr. Fancy Talk Creepy Voice here, you'd be rolling in participants willing to stay at this tacky hotel.”

The simple thought made me gag. Alastor's asexuality was to be respected, for his sake and for my own peace of mind. “Ha, ha! Never going to happen!”

“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your… special skills to, um… attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you! In that way.” Charlie winced, giving a polite but awkward smile to dismiss such a notion.

“Oh, please, baby, this body was made to be exploited,” he drawled and puffed his chest, making poses to highlight his sexual desirability. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, ha, ha, I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff the everyone thinks are tits-” 

His narcissistic rambling was interrupted by Charlie's ringtone, which made me breathe a sigh of relief and stop tugging on my ears. As she excused herself to take the phone call, I zoned out for a minute, tail curling around my hip as the fluffy tip twitched idly. I heard her say “dad”, which drew a soft smile from me. If only Lucifer had been there to support my rebellion then, maybe things might have been a little different. I hadn't seen him in ages. We used to get along fairly well, and when I needed secret meetings to try to make peace, he was my main contact. Despite our strong friendship, I knew he'd recognize me immediately if he saw me again, so I refrained from reaching out. 

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Husk once again rejecting Angel's flirting. It really was annoying. 

Husk and I had met through Alastor, as the poor guy was owned by the Overlord. We had more in common than I'd thought, including our feline traits, both physical and characteristic, and a mutual annoyance with Angel Dust. I felt bad for how Alastor treated him, I always believed it was unfair, but his rage was one of the most chilling, terrifying things one could ever witness, and I wasn't stupid enough to allow myself to be the object of his frustrations. It was already a miracle he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever have. 

“Vaggie! Holy shit!”

“Pah!” I yelped, ears pulling back as Charlie's outburst startled me.

“Ah! What?”

“Get over here!”

Their cute relationship made a fond chuckle fall from my lips, watching with a small smile as Vaggie walked over behind the wall to talk to Charlie.

When I heard her mention a meeting with the leader of the exorcist army, my stomach dropped to my knees. Adam.

He was almost my brother-in-law, brought into my social circle by Lute. I didn't admire him like he liked to think everyone did, but I did respect him, for Lute's sake. It was important to her that I got along with her best friend, and I couldn't deny her such a thing. 

♪ I can do this, somehow I know it

I'll get Heaven behind my plans

♪ Charlie, hold on

I could hear Charlie singing. She did always have a thing for singing songs at random times, a habit that straddled the line between endearing and entertaining, and annoying and irritating.

♪ There's just no way I could blow this

Not this once in a lifetime chance

♪It's just a meeting

Ah, yes, just a meeting, I thought with a sigh. The poor girl was about to go to her first meeting with Adam of all people. It was like taking her driver's test in a bus.

♪ To change their minds, to touch their hearts

Or whatever angels have

I frowned a little at the prejudice. Angels do so have hearts. It was the hypocrisy that bugged me.

♪ This could be bad...

♪ Cheer up, Vaggie

This could be swell

Something tells me that today is gonna be a happy day in Hell

♪ Okay, but just don't sing to them

Ah, the famous last words. Charlie was already out the door before Vaggie could even finish the sentence, strutting around through Hell as if it were the land of cupcakes and rainbows.

♪ That bitch is halfway down the street

♪ Is she-?

♪ Oh, she's dancing

♪ Ugh, no!

I sighed and leaned against the door frame, tail curling as I watched the princess walking down the street. “Y/N, you should accompany her to the meeting. Say you're the bodyguard or something.”

“Ha, ha, yeah, right.” I laughed with pure sarcasm. The simple idea of being in the same room as someone with divine ordainment after almost three decades made my head spin with anxiety.

“Fine, then at least keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't run into some weirdass on the way.” Vaggie proposed. While it bordered on stalking, it was true that Charlie could be a bit too carefree, and it was the least I could do to help.

“Fine.” I groaned, pulling on the hood of my cloak, and followed her path down the street, dodging disgusting views and unpleasant sinners on the way. The fact that I'd be hearing Adam's voice after this long was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I wouldn't be speaking to him, obviously, if it were so I would have outright fainted, but being in a one mile radius of any personality from the right side of the pearly gates made my lungs constrict.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As I stood in front of the tall golden tower of Heaven's embassy, a flurry of edgy butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth, then hurried inside after Charlie before the door could close, slipping in the shadows to keep her from seeing me.

When she signed the paper and entered the meeting room, I finally relaxed and laid on one of the couches in the deserted lobby, pulling my hood down and sighing as I stared at the ceiling. I could hear Adam's boisterous laugh, muffled by the walls, and my stomach did a backflip. I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together.

“You think I'd come down there? No, I mean, I love the vibe. Totally, love your tunes. Pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don't get me wrong, but it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is so bleugh, heh… ew.” His shenanigans never failed to make me roll my eyes. I never once agreed with him on anything, barely even on the smallest of dilemmas, like which milkshake flavor was the best. But there was an unspoken agreement between us to put up with each other's shit, motivated by our closeness with Lute.

My gaze then flickered around the room, which hadn't changed in twenty-seven years. I could remember when I'd first been here to meet with Lucifer in secret to attempt to stop the exterminations. It all felt like it was eons ago, when in reality it hadn't even been half a century, a microscopic fraction to my long life as a Seraphim. 

“Adam, sir… Mr. Adam, sir-”

“Call me Dickmaster.”

A ghost of a laugh fell from my lips at the nickname. It had been so long since I'd heard him and his narcissistic ramblings about his sexual prowess. Word in Heaven and outside was that he was just as good as he purported, which I didn't find too hard to believe, as he was neither an unattractive nor an inexperienced man.

“It's the solution to our biggest problem!”

“Herpes! Yeah, that's a bitch.”

“No, our other biggest problem!”

“Oh, um… ugly people? Math? Global warming! No, wait, that's Earth's problem. When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, and you're like, hey, I thought you wanted equality!”

“No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell.”

“Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We've got that covered! Lute, how many demons-”

Lute?

Lute was here?

I scrambled to the door and pressed my ear up against it, listening for any sign of her, her voice, her footsteps, her auditory mannerisms. Anything.

“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”

I rested my hand against the door and sniffed, breathing out a shaky, broken sigh as I slumped into a ball on the floor, leaning my ear against the cold surface. Hearing the ethereal sound of her voice after three decades felt like reaching an oasis after having wandered the desert, a ray of sunlight in a dark tunnel. My eyes flooded with tears as I let out silent sobs, covering my mouth with my hand as I kept listening for her voice, in desperate need of getting whatever glimpse of her I could.

I wondered what she thought of me now, so long after I disappeared with no trace. I could barely even imagine the pain she must have gone through - or was still going through - if she thought I was dead… or worse, if she thought I abandoned her. If she thought I didn't love her and Emily and Sera anymore, and decided I'd live a better life elsewhere. The thought of her hating me made me choke a sob, the hearing range too short for the emotions I wanted to show.

For fuck's sake, she was the love of my life. Why the fuck didn't I go in as the bodyguard? What was going through my head when Charlie said she'd be meeting Adam? You can't have Adam without Lute, how stupid could I have been to not think of that? I missed her face so much… her golden, intelligent eyes, her pretty little nose, her mischievous smirk, her thick, fluttering eyelashes… God, how I loved her face…

“They're not the same. They had their chance, and they earned damnation.”

I didn't even care what she was saying right now, I just needed to hear her.

“...but everyone makes mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that.”

I'd heard that before.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

With a last harsh suck to her clit, her thighs clamped around my head and she cried out my name, squirming and mewling as my face remained buried in the paradise between her legs. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and licked my lips clean of her sweet juices while her hand lingered on my hair, grip on my locks loosening as her chest heaved with the exertion. Giving her an affectionate smile, I shifted to get up and grab something to clean her, but she stopped me before I could do so. “Stay.”

I smiled at her and leaned my head on her thigh, planting the occasional kiss on her soft skin. “I love the way you taste.”

“You say that every time you go down on me.” She giggled, carding her fingers through my hair.

“And I'll keep saying it over and over, my love.” I smiled, resting my forehead on the soft flesh of her thigh and closing my eyes. 

I heard her let out a quiet chuckle as her hand kept stroking my hair, head falling back against her pillow as she slowly regained her breath. Everything about her mesmerized me. Being with Lute felt more right than being with any man in this universe. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she looked, the noises she made, they all made me fall in love with her more with each encounter. My thoughts wandered to her military training and the extermination. Even putting aside the betrayal of Sera making such a decision, with the way Lute spoke about enrolling in the army, I'd never have peace of mind. Heaven was a lie, indeed. I wanted to stop it so badly, to protect Emily from such knowledge, to find a solution different from violence, to take some weight off Sera's shoulders, to save Lute's life.

I shook such thoughts out of my head and crawled up to lie flat on top of her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips and resting my forehead on hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles on my lower back, and said, “What's with the frown, princess?”

I sighed and looked at the helmet on her nightstand, then back into her eyes. “Do you think it's possible to make peace with Hell?”

“What?” She asked with something between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course not. They had their chance to be good, and look at what they did instead.”

“And that was a mistake,” I conceded, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make this boil over into an argument, so I kept my tone soft and gentle. “But there's no one that doesn't make mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes, love.” She replied.

“Strongly disagree.” I sighed, looking to the side again with a small frown. To name a few, Sera chose to approve the extermination and put Adam, of all people, in charge. It was true that he was sort of an in-law to me, and the best that could be said of our relationship was that we had mutual respect, but he was self-absorbed, reckless and obnoxious, a testosterone-fueled wind-up soldier that marched wherever his sex-clouded brain told him to. And to think that poor Emily still believed she lived in this perfect, unbiased realm of bliss. 

“Hey,” Lute cooed, taking my chin in between her fingertips and tipping it to meet her eyes. “What Sera did was for your own good. She just wants to protect you, and so do I.” 

She then grabbed my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gesture made me smile a bit. I knew she wanted my wellbeing, but if only there was a way to do so that wasn't so violent…

“Come on, no more pouting,” she said, nuzzling our noses together. “What do you say we cuddle a bit and tomorrow we go out for ice cream?”

“Hmm… sounds fun. Thank you.” I mumbled and trailed a few soft kisses across her shoulder, then rested my head on her chest and closed my eyes, reveling in her presence.

My gaze once again fell on her exorcist's helmet. Those rotten black horns, striped with white and curled at the tips, the × over the right eye and that ragged smile… I loathed everything about it. The fear of losing her to this was too big. I'd do whatever it took to spare her and my family from this barbarity.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The moment Adam opened the door, the color dissipated from my skin.

He was holding Charlie by the wrist - thankfully she had her back to me - and beside him was Lute.

Lute, in that familiar gray uniform and that horrible mask. 

Her eyes met mine for a split second and I felt the wind being knocked out of me when she squinted and her body language shifted ever so slightly, which made me gasp and pull my hood back on, ears pulling back in fear and tail taking cover between my legs, and in the time she simply blinked, I ran away on all fours as fast as my legs could carry me, not stopping until I reached the hotel. My legs felt like they could crumble any second, my lungs screaming for breath and my throat begging for water, but I wouldn't stop until I was far away from the embassy. 

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As night befell the Pentagram, I laid on my bed and stared out the window in deep thought about the day's events. I opened the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed a picture, gazing at it fondly. It was me and Lute on date night, slow dancing to some cheesy love song we liked. I had an arm around her while my free hand held hers as she looked at me with heart-shaped eyes.

I wondered if she'd still look at me that way now, if she didn't hate me for disappearing without a message or note or any information on where I'd gone beforehand. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.

My phone dinged with a new notification, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Fuck.”

Hey corazón <3

21:14

You coming over tonight? 

21:14

Shit, Carmilla. When my brain registered Lute's presence earlier today, everyone else was dead to me. Thankfully, I was grounded back to reality when I got back to the hotel, but I couldn't just ditch Carmilla for a person I may or may not see ever again. Then again, I couldn't abandon Lute, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul for years on end, for a mere carnal relationship. 

I sighed and texted back my response,

Sorry babe, I'm not in the mood tonight :(

21:17

Good night

21:18

[ssparksflyy]

helllo can you do just a fluffy jason grace x reader athena that wanted to make her crush fly please something simple thank you;)

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

levitating ✶⋆.˚

pairing: jason grace x daughter of athena!reader warning(s): lowkey ooc jason word count: 810 a/n: ty for requesting! heres somethin short n simple for ya ♡♡

when asked to fly by other campers, jason usually had no problem with it. if they asked him to do it for help, he'd quickly do it, happy to help them. if they just wanted to see him fly, he'd float just a few inches off the ground and even pick the kid up if they wanted to. he usually was happy to fly for other campers.

usually.

you'd made a bet with him. you bet that you could somehow trick him into flying without being asked. being a child of athena, who was pretty good at coming up with plans, you felt pretty confident in yourself. but jason also felt confident in himself. learning how to say 'no' was something jason had gotten used to lately, and he believed that he would be able to avoid any tactic you used to get him to fly.

the rules were simple. you try to make jason float, he tries not to. if he flies in front of you, because somebody else asked him to, it doesn't count. if he flies in front of you for any reason that doesn't involve you asking or doing anything to make him fly, it doesn't count. you also weren't allowed to say that something dangerous was happening, cause, that just wasn't fair.

it was wednesday when you'd made the bet. you had until friday afternoon to make jason fly.

honestly, you hadn't thought it would be as hard as it was. a part of you hoped jason would fall for something simple, but he was surprisingly good at avoiding your attempts to make him fly. you tried things like throwing something at him super high, so he'd have to fly up and get it, but he simply just let it fall to the floor. you tried putting unavoidable things in his way, but that's when you found out jason was a great jumper and was up to taking a longer route (freak).

you even tried pushing him off the rock climbing wall, but turns out he was also good at that too!! seeing him beating all of your attempts was only fueling you more ( and draining your brain ).

it was friday morning when you came up with an plan that jason was sure to fall for. you'd convinced a tree nymph to put your sword at the very top of her tall tree, and called jason over. yea it was kinda of desperate but hey, so were you.

once he walked over to the tree you pointed up at your sword, "got stuck."

he gave you the most deadpan look you'd ever seen, "literally how does that even happen?"

you shrugged, "can you help me?"

he rolled his eyes and just as he was about to fly up, he stopped. instead of doing the easy thing and flying up he walked over to the tree and started climbing.

"youre joking." you said, watching him climb up the tree.

holy shit hes got a fat ass

jason had somehow managed to climb up to the very top of the tree, grabbed your tree and climbed down, all without getting knocked down by the nymph. traitor.

he jumped down a few branches high, landing right in front of you.

"i believe this belongs to you, m'lady" he said, holding out you sword with a cocky smile.

you grabbed the sword for him, muttering a small "thank you"

"aw what's wrong? bird brain mad she couldn't trick me?" he said, moving closer to you, "better think of something quick cause your times running out."

you paused for a second, unsure of how to respond. your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, an idea suddenly crossing your mind.

you grabbed jason by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. when you pulled away, you looked down at the floor and smirked.

"i win" you whispered smugly, still holding onto his shirt.

"huh?" he asked, his voice cracking and cheeks flushing.

you let go of his shirt and took a step back, motioning your head towards the ground. jason looked down, confused. he was floating a mere inch off the ground.

"you start floating whenever you get surprised." you said, grinning.

"what?- i- huh???" he said, confused out of his mind, "wait- so that's what the kiss was for??"

"in the moment, yea. but ive also been waiting months for you to do it, so i thought i'd take matters into my own hands" you said, a smile slowly forming on your face.

"damn, months?? you should've told me" he said, smiling, "can i make it up to you?" he took a step closer to you and placed his hands on your hips.

a giggle escaped your lips as you slung your arms around his neck, "of course, sparky."

he closed the space between you with a sweet kiss.

a/n two: i was fr like 'huh i feel like ive seen sparky somewhere besides jason' its my url. bffr. n e wayz i hope u enjoyed this nd have a good day/night !!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

[circe69]

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥! - 𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

❤︎ simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader ❤︎ wc: 2.4k ❤︎tw: mentions of gore, suggestive ❤︎ tags - snowy valentines, heavy making out, pining, drunk confessions, aggressive!simon, but sweet as well :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"You know today's Valentine's Day, right L.T?" Your words slurred together like pudding, and Ghost could smell the faint scent of whiskey, along with the remnants of some strawberry dessert, on your breath as he leaned down to hear you better.

He'd brought you up to the rooftop from the raging party downstairs, figuring it be easier to avoid any questions from Soap or Price about just why the two of you were standing so close. He looked up, stretching and rolling his neck from side to side, and was taken back by just how clear the sky was. It'd been months since he'd been able to make out any sort of constellation, and just about everyone had gotten used to the gunpowder-filled clouds and polluted air, but Ghost hadn't.

"What about it?" He said firmly, looking down at you and watching how you ever so slightly fisted the hem of his t-shirt in your hands, and every so often, your knuckles would graze the skin of his stomach, making his whole-body tense.

You smiled, your doe eyes and dilated pupils staring up at him with the most drunken affection that he'd seen in a while, "Do you have anyone?" You bit down on your chapstick-doused lips, enjoying the slight cherry flavor. Ghost watched you work; he could almost feel your tongue moving around on his just by watching your lick your lips.

He sighed, not annoyed, but a little anxious. He just didn't know how to act around you, he didn't know why you made him feel so different from everyone else. It'd been years since he had a friend, let alone a woman, an attractive one no doubt, clawing at him for more, practically begging for him to just pick her up and take her to a random closet to show her just how much he was willing to give. At this point, Ghost couldn't care less about the fact that you'd forget most of this in the morning. He loved the way you made him feel, even if there was a chance you didn't mean it.

"You're drunk, soldier." He gently pried your wandering hands off his body as you grimaced at the fact that he just called you soldier. You whined in response, hands instinctively shooting up to hug him around his neck, and Ghost allowed it, because he wanted it so badly. He wanted you so badly.

"Come on, just tell me already! You're no fun when you keep secrets." You were practically hanging off of him, your toes barely touching the ground, and even though he could've wrapped himself around you and lifted you up even higher, his hands stayed in fists planted at his sides. You leaned even closer to whisper,

"Do you have a valentine or not?"

A small smile stretched across Ghost's face, and for once, he was actually thankful for that thin piece of fabric covering it. Precious, he thought. You were the one thing that could unlock Simon's buried affection, and whether you knew it or not, you were the ticket to making his entire being feel better. He was bloodthirsty on the field, a man-killing machine known for his deceitful tactics and disgusting tricks for cracking a neck just right, but it disappeared in your presence. Not because he had to hide it, but because he would just much rather focus on you, the most perfect thing, right in front of him.

Ghost's hands hesitantly moved to the small of your back, but then slowly dropped them again before raising one to pinch the bridge of his nose as you let go of his neck, crossing your arms in annoyance at the fact that he just won't grab you.

"I know you're pouting because I'm not paying much attention to you, but I have to be gentle with you for now. You've had drinks, yeah? Maybe a few too many. Even if I wanted to, I can't touch you."

You looked up at him, the grimace resting on your face was a little more relaxed, "But" you started, "Do you want to?"

Ghost looked back at you, and his lungs felt like they'd burst into flames if you spoke one more sentence in that voice, the voice that's dripping with desire and demand, for him and only him. He whispered, "Of course I do. Of course, I want to touch you, I want to touch every part of you." His voice grew louder at the end of his words, making your eyes widen at the volume.

"Just because I'm being gentle right now, doesn't mean I always will. The things I want to have happen, the things I want to do to you, aren't sweet things. They aren't nice, they wouldn't be beautiful or sentimental. I wouldn't be careful. Do you understand?"

You craned your neck up at him, in a certain way that made your cheek bones shine perfectly from the dim light of the moon.

"I understand, Lieutenant," your voice was nothing more than a quiet sigh.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow's role call is an hour earlier," Ghost said as he started to walk back to the door to the stairs, "Be there."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You groaned in pain as an alarm rang through your room, off the walls and into your ears. Every part of you hurt, from your toes to your shoulders. I couldn't have done that much, right? You thought, slowly slipping out of your covers and top quilt before walking to the bathroom.

6 AM, and for what? Breakfast and a flag? Couldn't they wait an hour? I sure could. Your hair wasn't as dirty as you'd thought it be, thankfully, and it was easy to manage into a tight bun before tugging on boots and a warm winter coat and heading to the main hall. As you walked, crunching on a small layer of snow with every step, you tried to think back to last night. What even happened? You were kicking yourself, because you knew this would be the case. It happens every time. You're just more of a lightweight than you'd like to admit, and you remember it every morning after you drink.

You could remember the rooftop, being escorted up there by none other than Ghost, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but there were some parts of your conversation that just didn't make sense. It was all a blur but, there was something about being gentle? And Ghost mentioning that, sure he's being gentle now, but if you let him, he'd be the farthest thing from gentle with you.

But there was no way that happened. Fever dreams, drunk dreams, they're all the same. They're all vivid, and scarily accurate, but fake, nonetheless.

Once you arrived at the hall, a wooden door creaked open upon your entrance, along with the sound of your boots hitting the floor in attempt to shake the ice off. The room was packed to the brim with people, rescue dogs that didn't behave, and squeaking chairs moving round for roll call. Hot coffee was being poured and whistling kettles being turned off for tea were some of your favorite smells in the world. The dim fluorescent lighting woke you up fully, and if it were any brighter, it may have set you over the edge. No matter how hungover you were, snowy mornings were like a restart.

You made your way down the precise middle aisle, eyeing an open chair by Ghost and speedwalking to grab it before anyone else.

Once you sat down, you started shedding your large coat and draped it behind you. Ghost finally noticed and took a double take once he saw just who was sitting next to him.

Somehow, by some crazy unearthly miracle, even after a terrible hangover, you were still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He was almost frustrated at this point; you looked like you'd never drank a day in your life. Your hair was perfectly pinned, clothes beautifully ironed, which allowed for every curve to be hugged like a glove and shown off to every man in the room.

Ghost was borderline salivating. You smelled like you always did, lavender; and your morning voice as you said hello to him was just raspy enough to make him crazy, almost like crackling firewood. Even in the snowy, freezing weather, just by you being there, he felt perfectly warm.

"Morning," he said back, adjusting his pants that had somehow shrunk a few inches since you took your place by him.

The cup of coffee in his hand looked minuscule compared to the one in yours, which let your mind wander to other places, thinking about things that you shouldn't be. Like how small your body would feel enclosed in arms, and how those very same hands that were inches away from yours could destroy you within seconds.

Before you knew it, one of Ghost's arms raised and placed itself on the back of your chair, making you dizzy just at the contact. His skin wasn't even on yours, but you could feel the weight of his heavy forearm on the chair, and the way it gently ruffled the sleeves on your shirt. His breath was closer, practically pouring down the side of your neck, which made you automatically lean in closer to him. You could feel your heartbeat and was sure he could see it popping out of your chest every second.

"Hey," he whispered in your ear, making your eyes flutter at the deep tone speaking from a mouth inches away from you.

"If I left, would you follow me out?"

You looked at him, eyes wandering all over his face until resting in deep eye contact. You could tell all he needed was one word, one nod, and he'd stand up.

"Yes," you whispered. Breathed, more like.

Ghost stood, his height growing like a giant tree, from his seat and stomped out of the large dining room, and into a small hallway towards the back. You discreetly watched every move, every step he took, every nod he gave to the unsuspecting soldiers, and the exact turn he took to start his descent in the hallway.

You sat for a minute before moving. I could just stay, avoid any unnecessary confrontation, and tell him he misheard me, you thought. Your legs fidgeted for a few more seconds, trying to decide, but in reality, your answer from the start was genuine.

You shot up, faster than you intended, and started walking in the same path that Ghost did. Nodding to the soldiers, shooting smiles and quietly opening a door that led you into the same dark hallway that he entered.

There were a few small windows lining the hall, and the snow falling made it seem brighter than it was. You walked a few paces slowly down the walkway, looking in empty rooms and peeping your head in open doors, wondering where he could've gone.

All the sudden, when you were looking towards the opposite direction, a strong pair of gloved hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled your body into a room before slamming the door with his foot and pinning you to the back of it.

Ghost's face was inches away from yours, "Mm, finally," he groaned, his hands desperately running over and under pieces of your clothing. He tugged at hemlines, the belt loops of your pants, anything he could grab to signal he wanted more, and he hadn't even started yet.

"Finally?" You teased, trying not to whimper at the feeling of his hands squeezing the meat of your thigh, "You act like you've been waiting for this or something." Your words got breathier with every second, and so did his. All he did was hum in agreement, words weren't ever truly necessary for him, especially when he'd rather communicate in touch.

He quickly lifted up his mask just enough so his lips were available to you, and you took the opportunity to utilize them as fast as you could. Once you saw them, plump and slightly wet lips, your eyes drowned in the sight of them. Your arms shot up to his neck, and you pulled him down to your level so you could kiss him properly.

It wasn't sweet like a first kiss, or something that you'd want to take a picture of and frame it, it was like a secret. His mouth opening against yours, the air between you mixing like it was never meant to separate, the two of you were hungry, hungry for each other and only each other. The pads of his fingers rubbed your collarbone, making you shiver underneath his calloused touch, and he loved it. His tongue gently massaged yours, sliding his lips back and forth and your teeth gently bit down on his lip slowly before the two of you broke the kiss and slowly opened your eyes again.

Ghost moaned against his closed mouth, shutting his eyes before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His long arms wrapped around you as if you were a present from Christmas, something that he'd always wanted but never believed he'd get. He almost needed a breather from the aftermath of it all. He couldn't stop, and he knew he'd never stop for as long as you were in arms reach.

"Do you remember last night?" He said from his spot in your neck, to which you started to nod. "Too much to not be slightly embarrassed forever."

You could feel his chest vibrate against yours from the huff of air he let out, and after he lifted his head to meet yours again, straightening his posture to tower over you, "Ask it again." He demanded as his hand planted itself behind your head on the door.

The smile on your lips was enough to make his knees buckle, all it did was remind him that every part about you was made beautifully, was made to its most perfect potential.

You sighed before rolling your eyes slightly and dropping your head in your hands for a minute out of embarrassment, "Do you have a valentine, Lieutenant?"

Ghost allowed himself to just bask in the silence, to soak in what you just said like a warm bath. How wonderful, that he was able to hear you say that same question twice?

"Yes, I do," he started, before taking your hand in his and carefully kissing the center of your palms, "And I think I'm set for life."

[rabbitsrants]

SHINICHI KUDO IS TOO MUCH

guys, i'm currently working on the "reasons why shinran is one of the most brilliantly written romances of all time" masterlist and i came across this part of the manga:

chapter 44

AND I AM LAUGHING MY ASS OFF

shinichi is absolutely RUTHLESS in this chapter. correct me if i'm wrong, but this has to be his angriest moment throughout the entire series? i don't remember him acting this way in any other chapter 😂 like... shinichi is the type of guy who saves murderers from suicide, it's a well known fact that he values human life more than anything, HE'S A DEEPLY IDEALISTIC PERSON, YALL, THAT'S THE MAIN TRAIT THAT DEFINES HIM AS A PERSON and he straight up tells this dude (whos about to slit his own throat btw) TO GO AHEAD AND KILL HIMSELF

this is the most unhinged i've ever seen him 😂

now, let me be serious for a second. obviously, shinichi strongly suspected that the culprit wouldnt go through with it - he spent the entire case trying to cover up his murder after all, that's not something a suicidal person does. still though. the fact that shinichi was willing to risk it says so much about his love for ran. cause that's what his rant is about. the culprit tried to kill ran on multiple occasions and almost succeeded a couple of times. if there's one thing that shinichi can not handle, it's ran being in danger. he'll lose his composure every single time and he will lash out, even at innocent people who are just trying to help:

chapter 640

this man is so devoted to ran, it hurts.

that's why im so shocked everytime the fandom implies that ran is an irrelevant character who doesnt contribute anything to the story. if (for whatever reason) ran stopped being in the picture, the story would end right then and there.

people seem to forget that shinichi has prioritized ran over cases on numerous occasions (that aspect of their relationship deserves its own post tbh, i'll hopefully get to it in the future), he completely loses his mind everytime there's even the slightest risk that she might get hurt and this case right here? chapter 44? that's the wildest shit shinichi has ever said 😂 the part about justice was spot on and very in character for him, but the rest? it was brutal... and very unlike him. which is shocking, considering that ran was completely unharmed. do me a favor and let that sink in: the end of chapter 44 was merely his reaction to the thought of losing ran - he completely lost his shit. now, if ran actually stopped being in his life? shinichi wouldn't just lose his temper, he'd lose himself.

for the record, this isnt me implying that he would go rogue or whatever. the reason why shinichi is so angry in chapter 44 is because ran is okay and tangible, so he still has something to lose. but if she was gone? if she stopped being his life? he wouldn't be angry, he'd be inconsolable. if the level of anger displayed in chapter 44 and 640 is what we get when shinichi simply worries about ran's safety, just imagine the level of heartbreak that we would witness if he genuinely lost her.

shinichi loves and needs ran so much, it's unfathomable for most people, including me. everytime i think i cracked the case and finally figured out how much shinichi loves ran, he proves me wrong. and while i think that most cold cases are a tragedy, i think im coming to terms with leaving this one unresolved. after all, love is the most mysterious force in the universe. and always will be.

visit the shinran library for more

[fever-fluff]

Home

Azriel is lost, and cannot seem to find his way home, and it's tearing him apart

word count: 1.1k

Part II

Azriel is spiralling. He had convinced himself he was of equal standing with his brothers, but the past few years has proven otherwise. Three sisters for three brothers, that was what he had convinced himself of, and had seemed to be what Elain had wanted. But the bond he was so convinced was wrong, the bond he was so sure that would break apart as soon as the Cauldron had realised its mistake and weaved one between the two of them instead, never waivered.

And now, he sits opposite that of the woman he is so sure he loves, is the one from him, as she rips his already fractured heart in two. She's crying, and there's no part of Azriel that finds any satisfaction in it, no matter how much he wishes he could. She is the one doing this, choosing Lucien over her. But he cannot blame her.

For a time, they seemed to be happy, even if there were those around him that didn't approve. Lucien had accepted Elain's choice without anger or betrayal, and had wished she could find the happiness in Azriel that she could not seem to find in him.

It was Rhysand and Cassian, the males he called his brothers for centuries now, who had been angry for Lucien. Both of them understood a pain like that - both having to watch as their mates found solace outside their arms for a while.

it had taken weeks of coaxing from Nesta and Feyre for them to even look at him, but whether it was for their sister's benefit or his, he wasn't so sure.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and Azriel found himself the happiest he had ever felt, but it seemed the ever observant spymaster began to miss details. He lost himself in that feeling, not realising the person he found it in was not following down the same path.

It had taken Elain five years to admit her mistake, nothing in the eyes of a fae's long lifespan, but to Azriel he felt like he'd lost centuries.

And now, he watches the world he so sorely craved crumble at his feet with a measly few words.

"I'm sorry, Azriel.... I've hurt so many people because of this. I wanted someone who never should have been mine, while carelessly leaving the male made for me behind."

Azriel had thought his heart had cracked all those years ago when he realised he'd never have Mor in the way he wanted to, but he felt it now. That large, hollow crack that vibrated down the very centre, tearing every string that had slowly began to knit itself together without caring if he could ever mend it again.

He couldn't hear the rest of what Elain said over the cotton in his ears, didn't rise to see her out as she got up and left through the door.

He knows, he knows Lucien hasn't done this, that this is purely Elain's choice. The youngest Vanserra hasn't been seen since Elain had chosen Azriel, off on the continent somewhere with no contact and no sign of ever coming back.

his shadows swirl around him, the thickest they'd been in months. They had never truly gotten used to Elain's presence, and her timidness towards them had Azriel sending them off without a care if it had made her more comfortable. Now, the wrap around him, twisting and turning as if trying to find the ache that their master seemingly has, but finding no open wound.

He takes whatever comfort he can find in them. His shadows have been the only thing that has ever truly been his, no fear of someone ever taking them away from him, being better than him. He is the Night court's Shadowsinger, there is no one else who can fill that role.

And so, Azriel grasps onto that thread and tugs so hard it will either break or rip his hand where it sits. Rhysand cannot find enough problems for him to fix, Cassian refuses to spar more than usual, and his spies have begun to disappear when he is around, leaving their findings in reports he pours over meticulously. He's barely eating, most definitely not sleeping, but he hasn't had to feel the affects of what had happened with Elain.

It's only a matter of time when it fails, Fae are strong, but not indefinitely. It isn't when everyone expects it though.

if not for Cassian, who had watched his brother go down like a rock does when dropped into a pool of water, steady and unmoving, no one would have seen the spymaster hit the treeline so hard they'd ripped his wings to shreds as they lay spread out and lax.

Had waking up been optional, Azriel would have decided against it. Rhysand looked at him with so much pity in his eyes that he had to turn away, Feyre sat at his window, refusing to even acknowledge he was awake.

"You're on leave indefinitely, you're no help to yourself, never mind the rest of us, in the state you're in." Rhysand's words had cut him deeply. His mind swirling as he realised he wasn't good enough to hold the position he'd cherished for centuries. But what could he say against it unless he tried to lie? So he remained silent, eyes downcast as Rhysand went on.

"I'm sending you to the continent, away from -" he didn't need to finish. "With Mor's work, we've made a few connections, and you can stay and figure out for yourself what you need to do."

Azriel looked to Feyre, who had finally moved from the window and stood close to the side of his bed, beside her mate. "Az, please understand, we're worried for you, and this could do you some good."

He scoffed. They had each other to lean on, he had no one - never had anyone to call home. And now they were sending him away from the one place he could pretend to feel like it was. He'd lost the female he loved, and had now lost everything that made him who he was. Why should he even bother...

But the look on Rhysand's face told him he'd order it if it came to it. His brother may always wish those he loved had a choice, but he was still High Lord first, and what Azriel was doing wasn't something he could let slip without repercussions.

He'd go to the continent, spend however long necessary it took to convince his family that he was fit to come back, and he'd hide the despair better. Hide from them all and spend whatever time he could with them before it consumed him whole.

[cumulo-stratus]

ANGST | spencer reid x gn!reader

0.9k

It was dark, practically 2 AM. A soft early spring breeze fluttered through the slightly ajar window. 

This soft breeze wafted through the smell of spring, but this did nothing calm Spencer's tossing and turning. 

The restless genius had been up since midnight, when he had arrived home from a  case. 

Ever since your absence, Spencer had been a wreck. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't focus because he couldn't sleep, and he felt enormously guilty. 

It had only been a couple weeks since a large fight ending in a break up had taken place, and both yours and Spencer's wounds were still fresh. 

Spencer knew it was his fault, and these thoughts consumed him as he lay draped in his linen sheets, comforter abandoned in the growing warmth. 

But the thing he needed most, that was now gone along with you, was your touch- your body. 

He could still feel the ghosts of your palms as your fingers linked with his, and the pattern of your hip as he would run his hand across it. 

He felt like he could still feel your breath on his neck as you lay on him. Spencer could remember every inch of you, and he dreamt of it, hoping you would come back.

He lay there knowing you wouldn't, he had fucked up- majorly. But he couldn't rid his mind of his thoughts of you.

They were all consuming, every moment his mind could spare he thought of you. Your laugh; your smile, your hands and their scars and freckles he'd memorized. 

All these thoughts from the past couple weeks mounted and grew, until eventually Spencer found himself scrolling through his contacts for your name, pacing the length of his bedroom. 

He didn't have to scroll far, as he didn't have many people on his phone. When the letters spelling your name illuminated his dark(er than usual) under eyes, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Even just seeing your name brought the tiniest bit of comfort, as well as a pang of guilt. 

When Spencer finally heard the quiet buzzing of his phone as it rung, he sucked in a breath.

His heart was beating, his shoulders were tensing as the anticipation mounted. But finally, after a minute or so of ringing, the line clicked.

Your voice came through groggy, as if you'd just woken up. Spencer knew you probably had, you wouldn't have picked up if you were aware who was calling. 

“Hello..?”

“Hey..”

Spencer heard your voice drop off when he spoke. 

“Spencer… why did you call me-” you were trying to sound angry, or stern, or anything but the lonely, heartbroken flutter that came out instead. 

Spencer could actively feel the crack form in his chest at this, his voice equally as shaky yet relieved when he spoke again. “I- I just missed you, I can't sleep, I can't focus, I can't do my job- I'm falling apart without you!”

The longing and passion grew with each passing word, tears brimming on his waterline.

Spencer stood there in the dark, soaking what he had just said. He couldn't see it, but if Spencer had been there he would've seen the tears that broke your waterline, rolling down your now wet cheeks. 

You longed for his touch, because if you were being honest with yourself (which weren't but for hypotheticals sake), you were falling apart too. 

But, here you were, each sat in your apartments, in the dark. The darkness felt like it was enclosing Spencer, clawing around him and grasping his chest so tight he found it hard to breath. 

After a long pause, Spencer took a breath and made a reckless decision. “I still remember you, the feeling of your hand in mine, the feeling of my palm on your cheek- I remember you, y/n.” 

Spencer's voice broke on the word you, revealing that he was now crying. 

You didn't know what to do, or what to say- your brain was in fight or flight. You chose flight. 

“You shouldn't have called Spencer.. goodnight.” 

And before Spencer could even think of a response, let alone even process what you had just said, the other line clicked with the sound of you hanging up. 

Spencer's phone fell from his palm as a sob racked his body. Spencer didn't even register the thump of the device falling to the carpet beneath him. 

Spencer had barely registered that he was now lying on his bed, clutching the sheets with an iron grip. The sobs that racked his body felt like they were grasping and clawing at his chest, closing up his throat. 

There were no tear tracks anymore, everywhere was a tear track. He had curled in on himself as far as possible trying to bring some warmth. He hoped the warmth would combat the suffocating darkness he was surrounded by. 

He wasn't sure when exactly he fell asleep, but soon he ran out of tears to cry- and his own sorrows surrounded him like a weighted blanket. 

Sleep was almost a comfort when Spencer's body couldn't cry anymore, just whimpers. 

That's how you both fell asleep, with no tears left to cry, encircled by your own mounds of sorrow. 

Taglist- @spencers1wifey | @mvndfvelds | @mindfullycriminal | @luce-reid |@ferrjulie | @khxna | @il0vebeingdelulu | @lover-of-books-and-tea | @jaden-reid | @eli-chris | @multifandomsimp69 | @starch1ldz | @shadoesx

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[sidekick-hero]

The road to hell

(steddie | teen | wc: 2.8k | tags: demon!steve, exes, reconcilation, accidental demon summoning | AO3)

I have no idea what happened, but this prompt wouldn't leave me alone so have a short, self-indulgent demon!Steve crack fic.

Eddie was not wallowing. He was not.

He’s simply spending his Saturday evening home alone, sitting on his couch and drinking expensive whiskey straight from the bottle with The Cranberries crooning in the background. No biggie.

Steve hated it when he drank hard liquor from the bottle. He always insisted on using the crystal tumblers he'd owned even before he and Eddie had gotten together. Most of their stuff had been Steve’s because Eddie had been living in a one-bedroom apartment the size of a shoebox before they moved in together, while Steve owned an honest-to-god mansion.

Eddie should’ve known they’d never make it.

Their differences had been thrilling at first, sure, but it was never meant to last. He knows that now.

If he’d only known five years ago when the officiator had asked, “And do you want to take Steven Baron Harrington to be your lawfully wedded husband?” he could’ve said no if he’d known that only three years later, Steve would smash his heart into pieces.

The worst part though? Eddie knows that even knowing what would come, he wouldn’t want to give up the three years of blissful happiness before that.

Because Steve and he? They had been happy. He knows they had been. Eddie had been the happiest man on earth until the day Steve said they needed to talk. They hadn’t really talked, after all, because there hadn’t been much for Eddie to say.

What do you say when the man you believe is the love of your life tells you that he can’t do this anymore, that he thought he could be happy with Eddie but it wasn’t working? Apparently, it wasn’t Eddie’s fault, but Steve’s.

Yeah, right.

It’s definitely Steve’s fault Eddie is drinking himself stupid on what is supposed to be his fifth wedding anniversary, if not for the divorce papers he got this morning with his mail. Ready to be signed by him, Steve’s flourished signature taunting him.

What kind of asshole sends his soon-to-be ex-spouse divorce papers on their wedding anniversary?

Eddie’s not wallowing in self-pity because Eddie is livid. He’s so goddamn pissed that Steve would do that to him after promising to cherish him, to love him. How could he have been so stupid and believed all the promises Steve had made? Promises of forever, of growing old and wrinkly together, of sharing the good and the bad times with each other.

Apparently, that has all been bullshit because Eddie’s in the middle of some horrible times and Steve’s nowhere to be seen.

Taking another big swig from the rapidly emptying bottle, Eddie stares at the photo album in his lap. It’s the album with their wedding photos and one of the very few things he had taken from their shared home before he left.

He sets the album aside and reaches for another item, something he'd grabbed by accident during the chaos of moving out. It’s a book with an ornate, leather-bound cover that had always been on Steve's bookshelf, untouched and gathering dust.

Eddie flips it open, curiosity piqued by the strange symbols and archaic script. The words look like nothing he’s ever seen, some ancient language or elaborate code. He squints at the pages, the whiskey making the characters dance.

"What the hell did you collect, Steve?" he mumbles, running his finger along the odd script. He starts murmuring the strange words aloud, half in jest, half in drunken curiosity.

As he clumsily flips through the pages, one of them gives him a paper cut. "Shit," he curses, watching a drop of blood swell on his fingertip and drip onto the book. The blood seeps into the page, the crimson drop spreading and absorbing into the parchment.

The room suddenly grows colder, the air thick with an oppressive energy. Eddie looks around, a chill running down his spine. “What the…”

Before he can finish the thought, the book begins to glow, the symbols pulsing with a dark, eerie light. The room vibrates with a low hum, and Eddie stumbles back, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

The light intensifies, and with a sudden burst, a figure emerges from the book, surrounded by a swirling vortex of shadows. Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest as the figure materializes, taking on a familiar shape.

“Steve?” Eddie gasps, his voice a mix of shock and terror.

The figure steps forward, solidifying into a very real, very present Steve. Except… not quite. His eyes glow with an unearthly light, and dark, swirling tattoos snake up his arms and neck.

“Hello, Eddie,” Steve—or the demon that looks like him—says, a smirk playing on his lips. “Miss me?”

Eddie’s bottle slips from his hand, shattering on the floor as he scrambles away, fear etched on his face. Seeing Eddie’s reaction, Steve’s smirk fades, replaced by a look of hurt and sadness.

“What the heck is going on, Steve?” Eddie demands, his voice shaking, eyes wide with a mix of anger and confusion. “If this is some kind of…of prank then it’s not funny at all.”

Steve looks apologetic. “It’s not a prank, Eddie. God, I wish it were. This,” he says as he stretches out his arm, the palm of his hand facing upwards, “is real.”

A flame appears atop Steve’s hand, casting shadows over his not-quite-human face.

Most of Eddie was fucking terrified, but he would be lying if he said there wasn’t also a part that thought Steve looked even more beautiful like that.

“So you’re saying… What? That you’re -” He can’t bring himself to say it. It sounds insane, even in his head. Speaking it out loud would mean risking his sanity, he knows it.

“A demon? A spawn of hell? A monster? An abomination? You can choose one of these, I’ve been called worse.”

Steve says it nonchalant, giving Eddie a shrug of his shoulder and a wary twist of his mouth, but Eddie knows him. Knows his tells. His heart twinges in his chest at the sight, fingers itching to reach out and pull Steve in his arms and sooth his self-doubt and insecurities.

But then he remembers that he’s a demon, a fact he conveniently forget to tell Eddie because… Because what? Because Eddie was just a mere human, vulnerable, weak, helpless? Did Steve think he couldn’t handle the truth? Or was he embarrassed what all the other demons would think if they’d knew he was married to a mortal?

“And you kept this from me because I'm just a weak, pathetic human? Is that it? Were you embarrassed of stupid little Eddie, who has to use a lighter to get some fire?”

Steve laughs brokenly, the sound raw and bitter and Eddie’s heart tightens as Steve's laughter echoes hollowly in the room. He waits for Steve's response, his eyes searching for some semblance of truth in the demon's gaze.

"No, Eddie, it’s not that," Steve finally replies, his voice carrying a weight of regret. "I ended things because I’m a demon. We don’t belong here. I’m only allowed on Earth for as long as a deal I have with a mortal lasts. My last one was a ten-year deal, and it ended a few days after I broke things off with you."

Eddie’s eyes widen, hurt mingling with confusion. "So, you broke up with me because your deal ended?"

"Yes," Steve admits, his voice softening, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and longing. "It was stupid to fall for a human in the first place. I didn’t plan on it, I swear, but I couldn’t help myself. Your clumsy ass was just too irresistible."

"Shut up, you love my ass," Eddie retorts without thinking, falling back into their old banter as easy as breathing.

Steve doesn’t laugh, just looks at Eddie with liquid hazel eyes that shine with a red hue if Eddie tilts his head just so. “I do. That’s why I ended things in the worst possible way. I loved you too much to drag you into my mess so I had to let you go. I hoped that it would be easier if you could just hate me.”

Eddie’s breath catches, tears welling up. “But why didn’t you just tell me?” he whispers, the pain in his voice palpable.

"I couldn’t," Steve says, stepping closer, his eyes pleading, glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t want to hurt you more than necessary. So, I went back to Hell.”

Eddie shakes his head, trying to process everything. “Let me get this straight. You loved me… but you left. You didn’t want to hurt me… but you decided to just tell me it’s over one day, no explanation, letting me think it was my fault. That I wasn’t good enough.”

“I had to,” Steve insists, his voice breaking. “I thought it was the only way to protect you.”

Eddie looks at him, a mixture of anger and longing in his eyes. “So, what now?”

Steve sighs, looking more human than ever despite the demonic aura. “I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t know.”

Eddie’s chest tightens, too many conflicting emotions swirling inside him. “Why, Steve? Why let me fall in love with you if this was how it was going to end?”

Steve steps closer, reaching out but stopping short of touching Eddie. “Because I’m a demon, Eddie. I’m selfish, and cruel. Loving you, having you love me back, it was the best part of my existence. Even if it had to end, those years with you were worth everything. Even if I knew it would hurt in the end, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Eddie’s tears finally spill over, and he chokes out, “You left me broken, Steve. You made me love you and then you discarded me like a broken toy, leaving me wondering what it was that I did wrong, why you stopped loving me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”

Steve’s own eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I know. I’m so sorry, Eddie. I thought I was doing the right thing not telling you. I thought… I thought it would be better for you. That you could hate me and move on.”

“Have you?” Eddie scoffs, wiping at his tears angrily.

“Have I what?”

“Moved on,” Eddie clarifies, chastising himself for the tentative hope blooming in his chest.

Steve looks down, his expression one of deep regret. “No,” he admits, “I haven’t. Not sure I’ll ever will but that was supposed to be my problem. At least before you managed to summon me with a grimoire you apparently stole from me. How did you even do that?”

“I just… took it?” Eddie has the good grace to look a bit sheepish.

With a fond chuckle, Steve’s usual reaction when Eddie was saying something silly, Steve shakes his head. “No, dummy. How the hell - pun totally intended - did you summon me from hell? That’s some serious blood magic.”

Steve looks impressed and Eddie wants to preen under it, but he also knows that it hadn’t been his magical proficiency exactly that had summoned Steve.

“It was an accident,” he mumbles, avoiding Steve’s gaze. It figured that the one time Eddie did something truly impressive, apparently, it was a drunken accident. And of course Steve couldn’t let it go, either.

“Come again? This almost sounded like…”

Burying his face in his hands, Eddie groans deep in his chest. Then he raises his arms in an exasperated gesture. “It was an accident, okay? I cut my finger on the paper. Happy now?” He adds petulantly.

Steve laughs at that. “Only you, Eddie, only you…” The way Steve looks at him with so much fondness, face soft and almost yearning, tugs at Eddie’s heart. “Actually, yeah, I’m happy your drunken ass managed something most people who tried failed at, because it means I got to see you again. I… I really missed you, Bambi.”

Eddie takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. “So, what happens now, Steve? Do you go back to Hell?”

Steve looks up, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Not if I can help it. I want to find a way to be with you, Eddie. For real, this time. But I don’t know how.”

Eddie’s heart aches at the sincerity in Steve’s voice, but the hurt and betrayal still linger. “I don’t know if I can trust you again, Steve. Not after everything.”

Steve nods, understanding. “I know it won’t be easy. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To prove that I love you, no matter what.”

Eddie looks at Steve, the love and pain in his heart warring with each other. “We’ll see, Steve. We’ll see.”

With his head in his hands, Eddie’s sat on the couch, still processing the whirlwind of revelations and emotions. Steve was back, a demon, but still the man he loved. And now, Steve wants to find a way to be with him for real. The absurdity of the situation makes Eddie’s head spin. He reaches for the whiskey bottle again, but Steve gently takes it from his hand before he can take another sip.

“Hey, I think you’ve had enough of that,” Steve says, a hint of humor in his voice. “Besides, we need you sober if we’re going to figure this out.”

Eddie blinks at him, then bursts into a half-sob, half-laugh. “This is so messed up, Steve. My ex-husband is a demon, and I summoned him by accident, and now he won’t even let me drink to deal with it because he wants me to help him find a way to stay topside. What is my life?”

Steve chuckles softly, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and affection. “It’s certainly not what you expected, I bet.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the chaos of emotions swirling within him. “No, definitely not what I expected.”

As the tension begins to ease between them, Eddie gestures towards the broken whiskey bottle on the floor. “Guess you owe me a drink for cleaning up your mess,” he quips, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Steve’s chuckle grows into a genuine laugh, the sound echoing warmly through the room. “You can hold me to that. But first, let’s figure out how to fix this.”

Eddie sighs, rubbing his temples. “Alright, demon ex-husband. What’s the plan?”

Steve looks thoughtful for a moment, then grins. "First, we need some coffee. Strong coffee. And then maybe I'll give you a crash course in demonology? See if that magical brain of yours can come up with an idea. You've always been good at thinking outside the box, and that's exactly what we're going to need."

Eddie groans, but can't help the small smile on his lips. "Fine. But if you think I'm going to let you stay here without doing the dishes, you've got another thing coming."

Steve laughs, a genuine, joyful sound that makes Eddie's heart ache with nostalgia. "Deal. Any other terms, oh, husband of mine?"

"Ex-husband. Someone decided to send divorce papers on our anniversary. I should have known you were a demon with a move like that."

All the color drains from Steve's face, his eyes widen comically. He looks so completely human now, if not for the tattoos still swirling on his skin. "Oh fuck. It's the first of May? Shit, shit, shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry! I told Vince to get the papers to you as soon as possible before I went back to hell, I had no idea he'd wait until today."

The thing is, Steve really looks devastated at the thought, his eyes begging Eddie to believe him. He knows Steve - at least he thought he did - and the man he knew wouldn't hurt him like that. Not knowingly. But he also thought that the man he knew wouldn't lie to him for years and break his heart, so what does Eddie really know? He shouldn't be trusted with life decisions, not even his own.

Suddenly he is tired of being angry at Steve. Part of him thinks this is all a dream anyway, and tomorrow when he wakes up he can go back to being angry at him and blaming him for the massive hangover he's got.

Tonight he wants to live in a world where Steve had to leave him because he's a demon and now he accidentally summoned him and is trying to help him stay here for good.

"It's okay, Steve. How about that coffee and demonology crash curse? By the way, I can't believe you never wanted to play DnD with us. You would have crushed it."

Steve gives him a grateful smile and follows Eddie into the kitchen.

"We can treat this like one of your adventures. But don't use your DM voice or whatever on me or we won't get anything done tonight."

The heat in Steve's eyes is probably hellfire, Eddie thinks as he audibly swallows. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Or, in Eddie's case, with drunken accidental summonings.

[bleucaesura]

AN ENDING - 4/4

“You…You love me?” Stolas whispered.

The FUCK?!

Blitz jolted upright. His heart leapt into his throat. He couldn't breathe. Because, there in the now open doorway, stood a disheveled Stolas, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever fucking seen.

“Wha… Stolas?” Blitz squeaked. He turned away, wiping the tears from his eyes with the heels of his hands as he scooted backwards, trying to put some distance between them. “Where did you come from?”

He looked back. Stolas stared down at him wide and teary-eyed.

“I…” Stolas sniffled and wiped tears from his eyes. “I thought you'd left.”

This fucker.

“No.” Blitz bristled, forgetting how happy he was to see him. “You fucking THREW me OUT.” He turned around, getting on his hands and knees, steadying himself to stand. “There's a BIG fucking DIFFERENCE.”

Stolas staggered back, clutching his chest. He looked like he'd been slapped in the face.

Blitz’s heart ached to see Stolas this way. But fuck him! He’d thrown him away!

“I…” Stolas’s voice cracked. “I'm so sorry.”

Blitz stood and brushed himself off, turning away from Stolas so he couldn't see how much he was hurting.

“I didn't MEAN to throw you out…” Stolas’s voice shook with tears.

Blitz growled, clenching his fists at his sides.

“The fuck is THAT supposed to mean?!” He whipped around to face Stolas. He jabbed a finger in his face. “You just ACCIDENTALLY ended things between us and OOPSIE-DOOPSIE tossed your old toy out on the street?!”

Stolas fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands, sobbing.

“No! No no no no no!” Stolas cried and shook his head. He balled his fists in his head feathers and fell forward, curling into himself.

Blitz staggered back, shocked. He’d never seen Stolas like this. He wanted to hold him so badly. Wanted to tell him that he forgave him and that everything would be ok…

But Stolas didn’t want him.

“You don’t understand,” Stolas cried. “You don’t understand…” He sobbed and began to shake.

Fuck it.

Blitz knelt in front of Stolas. His heart was racing a mile a minute. He was scared out of his mind. But he couldn’t watch Stolas tear himself apart like this.

Blitz reached out and cupped his hands over the fists in Stolas’s head feathers. Stolas jolted in surprise and looked up at Blitz with swollen, tear-filled eyes.

Blitz’s heart swelled looking into those eyes. He flushed and smiled awkwardly, trying to keep his cool. He carefully loosened Stolas’s fists from his feathers and brought them down off his head.

Stolas watched Blitz in awe. How could he treat him so well after everything? He was sure Blitz could hear the thundering of his heart.

Blitz looked down at their hands and cleared his throat. He brushed his thumb across Stolas’s knuckles affectionately.

“You said I don’t understand.” He peeked up at Stolas nervously. “Explain it to me.”

Stolas felt his mind go blank.

Shit… What am I supposed to say?!

“Did you mean what you said?” The words were out of his mouth before he even registered what he was saying.

The fuck did that come from?!

Stolas felt his demon give him a little playful wink and shrug.

Oh… YOU… I‘ll deal with YOU LATER!

It snickered. Stolas internally rolled his eyes.

Blitz flushed. “Uh…” He looked away and scratched his cheek, smiling bashfully. “What exactly did I say again?”

Stolas swallowed hard. It was all or nothing now.

“You… You said you love me.”

Blitz went rigid. He turned a deeper red. Then white, gray, and green.

“Whelp.” He let go of Stolas’s hands and turned to crawl away. “Time for me to go die now.”

“Blitz please!” Stolas squawked and grabbed Blitz’s shirt-back and suspenders. He pulled too hard and sent Blitz flailing backward into him. They fell back, Blitz landing with his back against Stolas’s chest. Stolas wrapped his arms around him and dipped his head into the crux of his neck and shoulder, nuzzling deeper.

Blitz couldn’t help but shiver. He’d missed Stolas so much. Missed being held by him. Holding him.

He hesitantly reached up and clutched Stolas’s arms in his hands below his chin. He could feel Stolas’s heart hammering against his back. Or maybe that was his heart? It didn’t matter. It was a rolling thunder and it was intoxicating. Blitz couldn’t help himself from tilting his head and nuzzling into Stolas.

“Did you mean it?” Stolas whispered against Blitz’s ear. It sent electric shocks through him to places he didn’t want to admit. Because it broke the spell.

“Why the fuck does it matter?” He wriggled to get free of Stolas’s embrace. “You’re done with me! Done with us… Why does it matter how I feel?”

Blitz broke free of Stolas’s arms and clambered to stand. He was so angry. His heart made him ache from head to toe. He steeled himself and turned around, ready for a fight, only to see the hurt and despair in Stolas's eyes as he sat on the ground looking up at him.

“It matters… Because, I love you, you idiot!” Stolas yelled, tears streaming down his face.

Blitz felt like he’d been punched in the gut. His mind went blank.

“Wh… What?”

Oh yeah. Great answer! Fucking numpty! Get your shit together!

“I love you.” Stolas choked back tears. “That’s why I wanted to end the contract. Why I wanted to give you your freedom.”

Stolas got up onto his knees and took Blitz’s hands into his. Blitz staggered back, but Stolas held tightly and continued.

“I want MORE. I wanted you to choose me for ME. Not because you had to. But because you wanted to.”

“I…” Blitz was reeling. He kept looking around at anything but Stolas, seemingly planning his escape. “No… You’re fucking with me…”

Stolas heaved a heavy sigh. He reached out and cupped Blitz’s cheek, turning him to face him.

“Do you truly think so little of me that you believe I’d do such a thing?”

Shit…

“Wha..?” Blitz looked terrified. “No… But..”

“Then why can’t you accept that I love you?” Stolas smiled sadly.

Something snapped inside Blitz. He bristled and felt as all his old self hatred washed over him.

“Because no one loves me!” He yelled. He looked at Stolas and sneered. “No one.”

Stolas let go of Blitz’s hand and pulled his hand from Blitz’s cheek as his feathers puffed in indignation.

“Beg your pardon, but you don’t get to tell me how I feel.” He glared at the imp angrily.

Blitz flinched, looking sufficiently cowed.

“I didn’t mean…” He looked away and growled. “Fuck.”

Stolas softened. He could see Blitz was struggling.

“I love you Blitz.” He reached out a tentative hand and affectionately caressed his cheek. “The question is: Do you love me?”

“Dammit, Stolas!” Blitz swatted Stolas’s hand away, and threw his arms in the air angrily. “I can’t let myself love you!”

Stolas stood, with his hands on his hips, and glared down indignantly at Blitz.

“And why the hell not?” He bent in half and shoved his face in Blitz’s.

“Because I destroy everything I touch!” Blitz yelled. He turned away and clutched his arms across his chest defensively. He squatted down, hung his head and whispered, “And I love you too fucking much to let myself destroy you…”

It took a moment for Stolas to register what Blitz had just said. He stood there bent in half with his hands on his hips looking like an idiot chicken as he processed..

I love you… I love you… He said ‘I love you’…

Stolas’s brain slowly melted and he looked over at Blitz. He was hugging himself tightly and had begun to shake. Stolas’s heart clenched.

Stolas scooped Blitz into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. He looked up at him with red, puffy, tear-stained eyes.

“For such a smart man, you can be so stupid…” Stolas chuckled, smiling lovingly down at the handsome imp in his arms.

Blitz stared up into Stolas’s eyes. He didn’t quite know what he was searching for. Probably a reason to run; any hint that Stolas didn’t actually love him.

“I’m scared…” He whispered, tears stinging his eyes.

Stolas leaned down and touched his forehead to his.

“Me too.” Stolas closed his eyes.

Blitz wrapped his arms around Stolas’s neck and ran his fingers through the feathers on the back of his head. He relished in the way Stolas shivered under his touch. Stolas was clutching him tightly against him. He pulled Stolas closer to him and brushed his lips against his beak. The air between them was thick and heavy. His eyes half lidded.

“This is a bad idea…” He whispered against Stolas’s beak. He felt Stolas’s breath hitch as his mouth opened a little bit and he pushed forward searching for Blitz’s lips; searching for a kiss. Stolas whimpered.

Fuck yeah…

Blitz smiled. He felt that familiar rush of want flood through him from head to toe. He grabbed a handful of feathers and tugged Stolas’s head back. Stolas made a delicious hooting moan.

“You know me and bad ideas though,” Blitz leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I love ‘em.”

*****