#got an ask once where someone said they liked the way i draw them though..... thank you so much whoever you are btw

[dailyhmsw]

loop 134

bonus notes !?

[gloomysoup]

a secret worth keeping

@steddiebingo prompt: sneaking around | rating: m | word count: 2319 | tags: secret relationship, rockstar eddie, hockey player steve, modern au | ao3

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“I can't believe I let you two drag me to a hockey game,” Eddie grumbled as they moved through the crowd to get to their seats. “It's too cold in here. And I have to watch sports! This is, like, the exact opposite of how I wanted to spend our off day.”

“Come on, Eddie! It'll be fun!” Gareth said, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s.

“What about this is fun, Gareth?!” Eddie screeched, drawing a few stares from those around them. “It's hockey! It's cold, and it's sports, and you know I can't stand sports! I am already miserable. What makes you think I’m going to have fun?”

“Christ, Eddie, can't you just try to enjoy something someone else likes for once in your life?” Jeff grumbled with an eye roll. He sat in his seat, decked out in his favorite hockey jersey, which he always takes on the road with him. He claims it's for luck, but Eddie secretly thinks he just doesn't want to leave it at home with his slightly psychotic girlfriend. Eddie never did like her. He still doesn't understand why Jeff doesn't just break up with her, but he'd never say that out loud. He's had his own fair share of bad relationships that the guys graciously don't make fun of him for… anymore.

“It's not my fault you guys picked the one thing you know I can't stand,” Eddie shot back.

“Eddie, man, just shut the fuck up for once,” David snapped. “Hockey isn't really my thing either, but you don't hear me complaining.”

Eddie, clearly outnumbered by his so-called friends, huffed and flopped down into his seat at the end of the row. Curse Gareth and Jeff, and their stupid hockey team. Eddie slouched in his seat, arms crossed, as the teams came to the bench. Their manager, Chrissy, had scored them seats in the front row, right behind Gareth and Jeff’s team’s bench. It didn't take long for Eddie’s friends to be on their feet, cheering and yelling with the rest of the crowd.

Eddie couldn't possibly care less.

-

He loathed to admit it, but hockey was actually�� kind of interesting? He had zero clue what was going on, like, at all, but there were some moments that he couldn't help but be intrigued. Particularly when the players landed some hard hits on each other.

What really got his attention, though, was the fight.

They were reaching the tail end of the second period. The game was tied, 3-3. Tension was high. A player from Gareth and Jeff’s team— he didn't catch the number— took a shot at the goal just as an opposing player slammed into him from the side. The guy went straight into the glass, and then he pushed the player back. He got a stick to the side for his troubles. Within seconds, they were shoving each other, sticks left forgotten on the ice. It wasn't long after that the refs broke it up, sending both players to their respective penalty boxes. Eddie watched in fascination as the player from Gareth and Jeff’s team pushed his way into the box, slamming his stick into the wall and ripping his helmet off.

It was like a Greek God was walking among them, playing hockey of all things. The man was gorgeous. Eddie watched in pure wonder as he rubbed a hand over his face, combed his fingers through his hair, and whacked the glass with his stick again. He could see the frustration, but he was too absorbed in his staring to care.

“Who is that?” Eddie asked, barely sparing a glance towards his friends as he continued to stare.

“Who’s who?” Gareth asked, tearing his eyes away from the game for the first time since the period started.

“That.” Eddie nodded toward the box, where the Greek God of a hockey player was shoving his helmet back over his head and talking to the guy standing in front of the door.

“The guy in our box? 23?”

“Yeah. Him. Who is he?”

“Steve Harrington. He's from Indiana too, actually. Second overall pick from Ohio State two years ago. He's good.”

“He's hot.”

Jeff whipped around to give Eddie an incredulous look. “Dude….”

“What? Can’t a guy appreciate a good-looking man?”

“And what about your doctrine, huh? Thought you had a thing against jocks? Or does that not apply to dating?”

Eddie shrugged. “Who said I had to date him?”

Gareth wrinkled his nose. “Gross, dude.”

Eddie’s eyes didn't leave 23 for the rest of the game.

-

This was stupid.

What the hell was he thinking.

Eddie laid in his bunk on the tour bus, staring at his phone screen, stuck in an endless loop of internal turmoil.

He hit the backspace button until the message was gone. His thumbs tapped across the screen. Delete again. Type again.

He set his phone down on his chest and blew out a long breath.

This was so fucking stupid.

He picked it back up and looked at the message again… only to realize he’d accidentally hit send.

Fuck.

Eddie sat up quickly, momentarily forgetting where he was, and whacked his head off the top of the bunk.

“Shit!”

His phone tumbled from his hand and clattered to the floor. A string of curses fell from his lips as he scrambled for his phone. The bus turned, sending his phone sliding across the bus and bumping into Jeff’s bunk down at the end of the row.

“No, no, no, I got it,” Eddie rushed as Jeff reached down to pick it up. Too late.

“What's got your panties in a twist?” Jeff asked as he picked it up. He started to hand it back to Eddie, but obviously caught a glimpse at the screen. He snatched it back before Eddie could grab it from his hand, looking intently at the screen and cackling. “Oh my god, you did not!"

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed, reaching for his phone. “Just give it back!”

Gareth poked his head out from his bunk, eyebrows furrowed and clearly still half asleep. “What's goin’ on?”

Eddie glared at Jeff. “Don't.” Jeff just grinned maliciously right back at him.

“Eddie slid into Harrington’s DMs.”

Gareth perked up, much more awake with the new information. “Oh, no, he didn't.”

“He did!” Eddie hid his face in his hands, already feeling his cheeks burn. “Wait, he's texting back!”

“Give it back, Jeff,” Eddie begged hopelessly, knowing it wasn't going to do him any good. Jeff held his phone out of reach, watching the screen for the message that was going to come through any minute.

“Dude, I can't believe you actually sent him a message,” Gareth commented with a laugh.

“And I can't believe it worked,” Jeff added. “He said, ‘Glad to see I have a fan’. With a winking emoji.”

“This is stupid,” Eddie huffed, snatching his phone from Jeff’s hand. “Y’all suck. I'm going to bed.”

Eddie thought that would be the end of it. He sent a stupid message, got a trained reply, and that was that. Oh boy, was he wrong.

He didn't tell a soul. It was their little secret. And honestly? Eddie thought it was kind of fun. Sneaking around, meeting in hotel rooms on the road, texting every day. It was thrilling. Eddie’s never had a secret that fun before. His friends still poked fun at him for the initial message from time to time, but Eddie always blew off further questioning with a simple, “It didn't work out.” But he would sneak off to meet with Steve every chance he got.

Eddie was playing a dangerous game.

With every secret meeting, with every text sent and night spent together, Eddie fell more and more in love with Steve Harrington. He'd probably be more upset about it if Steve hadn't made it so easy to fall. Steve Harrington also made Eddie take risks he wouldn't normally take. Like sneaking him into the hotel room that his bandmates also had a key for.

“I missed you,” Eddie murmured against Steve’s lips, fingers tangled in his still-damp hair. It was late. Steve had an evening practice and went straight to Eddie’s nearby hotel after. A hotel that Eddie specifically asked for, because he knew it was close to the rink.

“Missed you too,” Steve whispered back before kissing Eddie again, hard and deep. “It's almost playoff season. I'll be done soon, 'til next season. I can come see you more.”

Eddie loved how breathless Steve sounded. Loved that he was the reason.

Their clothes dropped to the floor piece by piece as they migrated to the bed, leaving a trail of wandering hands in their wake. Eddie pushed Steve back onto the bed, taking a moment to admire the way his hair fanned out beneath him and his skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He couldn't keep his mouth off of him for long, though. He trailed kisses across his torso, sucking a bruise here and there. He slipped his hand between them, toying with the button on Steve’s pants before finally popping it open and sliding the zipper down. Steve’s eyes were closed, eyelashes brushing across his cheeks, and he was already panting. Eddie watched as he pulled his arms up above his head, stretching his torso more. Eddie couldn't help it. He ran his hand up Steve’s abs, relishing in the shiver he received. His hand trailed back down, fingers scratching against the hair beneath his navel, dipping lower and lower and-

Click.

“Yo, Eddie!”

The door pushed open, and there were his bandmates.

“Oh my fucking god.”

Eddie’s head collapsed onto Steve’s stomach as he groaned. Of course this would happen now. Eddie couldn't even bring himself to look up, to face what was happening. He knew he would have to. He couldn't get out of this one. But now he's dragged Steve into it too. Perfect Steve, who has been so good to him and didn't deserve to be put in the middle of Eddie’s band’s bullshit.

“Eddie, what the actual fuck.” Jeff’s voice broke through after what felt like hours of silence.

Eddie took a deep breath and lifted his head, knowing it was time to face this head on. “Guys, Steve, Steve, the guys.”

“Eddie. Dude. You cannot be serious right now.”

“Yeah, man,” Gareth added. “You owe us an explanation.”

“I don't owe y'all shit,” Eddie muttered, still very much aware that he is still in a compromising position. “What I do in my free time is none of your business.”

Jeff crossed his arms and raised his brow. “Uh huh. Sure. So it was none of your business when you caught Gareth losing his virginity to that model? Or how about when David was on that ecstasy kick a while back?”

“Dude,” Gareth hissed, smacking Jeff in the shoulder. “Do you really have to spill our fucking secrets like that in front of Steve Harrington?”

“That's different,” Eddie argued.

“How is that any different than this, Eddie? Is it because this time it's you? You can butt into our business, but when we catch you with Steve Harrington, it's none of our business?”

Eddie grumbles, knowing deep down Jeff is right. This isn't any different than the other times. They've always shared everything with each other. His business is the band’s business, and vice versa. That's how they've always been. No secrets. Well, not until this. Not until Steve. Which… actually isn't much of a secret anymore.

“How long has this been going on?” Gareth asked. “Because, y'know, we asked. How long were you lying, Eddie?”

Eddie knew they were just joking. He knew they weren't taking it that seriously. But still. Did they have to take digs at him like that?

“It wasn't like that, dickbags,” Eddie snarked. “You're just too nosy. Can't have anything to myself.” Eddie couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Jeff rolled his eyes, but he was fighting a smile of his own. “Whatever, man. We still expect to hear about it later. Don't do anything stupid, because I am not giving up my hockey team for you.”

With that, the guys left, closing the door with a soft click behind them. Eddie groaned into the duvet. He only looked up when Steve started laughing; a little snort turning into a fit of giggles.

“I'm sorry,” Steve said through his giggles. “It's just- it was just- so funny. I'm sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, a smile on his face. “You, Steve Harrington, are absolutely ridiculous.”

“And you're not?” Steve challenged, still fighting through his giggles.

Eddie shook his head again and leaned up to kiss him. “They're never going to let me live this down.”

“Oh, baby, neither am I,” Steve whispered with a smile against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie leaned back a little to see Steve’s face. “That mean you're gonna stick around? Even after that whole debacle?”

“Well, I think I have to now.” Steve’s smile was soft, filling Eddie with a warmth he's not sure he's ever felt before. “Can't make it awkward for Jeff, can I? With the hockey team and all.”

Eddie chuckled before leaning in and kissing Steve again. The heat of the moment was gone, but that was okay. Eddie was content just to be there, in the moment. They spent their night trading lazy kisses and drawing patterns on their skin with their fingertips. In the morning, Eddie knew he’d have to face his friends. He'd have to explain everything, because Corroded Coffin didn't keep secrets from each other.

Oh well.

Sneaking around was fun while it lasted, sure, but now he gets to annoy the shit out of his friends talking about Steve whenever he wants. It was a win-win for him.

The guys were really about to regret dragging Eddie to that hockey game.

[lvnleah]

Could you please do Steph Cayley x reader where reader is recovering from acl surgey and Steph is being all cute and protective.

nurse catley | steph catley.

thank you for this request! bit of a short one :)

The soft hum of the car’s engine filled the quiet space, a soothing backdrop to the clunk of the crutches resting in the back seat. You were slouched against the passenger seat, the effects of the painkillers making you drowsy and slow. The ACL surgery was done — one hurdle cleared, but the long road to recovery loomed ahead.

Steph’s hand was warm where it rested on your thigh, her thumb drawing soft, absentminded circles through the blanket she’d tucked around you before leaving the hospital. Her other hand gripped the steering wheel, and her eyes kept darting between you and the road.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked softly, breaking the silence.

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you mumbled, your voice raspier than usual. The post-op grogginess still clung to you, but even that couldn’t hide the exhaustion in your tone.

Steph glanced over, “We’ll get you settled on the couch as soon as we’re home. I’ve already set up pillows and everything. You’re not moving a muscle until you’re comfortable.”

You smiled faintly, her fussing filling your chest with a familiar warmth. “Steph, I’ll be fine.”

Her eyes flicked back to you, stern yet soft. “Babe, you had surgery less than 24 hours ago. You’re not doing anything by yourself.”

“Okay, Nurse Catley,” you teased, though your voice lacked its usual energy.

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth quirked up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t go overboard.”

By the time you reached the house, you were more than ready to get out of the car, but Steph was having none of your attempts at independence.

“Stay there,” she ordered, jumping out and rushing around to your side before you could even attempt to unbuckle yourself.

“Steph, I can—”

“You can sit still and let me take care of you,” she interrupted, her tone firm but loving. She crouched down to carefully swing your legs out of the car, her movements gentle and deliberate.

Once she had you upright and balanced on your crutches, she looped an arm around your waist for extra support, guiding you toward the house.

Inside, she helped you ease onto the couch, fluffing the mountain of pillows she’d set up beforehand. A tray with water, snacks, and your meds was already waiting on the coffee table.

“You’ve thought of everything,” you murmured, touched by the effort she’d put in.

Steph sat down beside you, tucking a blanket around your legs before placing them on her lap. “Of course I have,” she said simply, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “This is going to be tough, but we’re in this together. One day at a time, yeah?”

You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “Thank you, Steph. For everything.”

She leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

The next few days were a haze of painkillers, rest, and Steph’s constant presence. She wasn’t just hovering — she was there at every moment.

“Here,” she said one afternoon, handing you a mug of tea just the way you liked it. She perched on the edge of the couch, watching as you adjusted the pillows under your leg. “How’s the pain today?”

“Better,” you admitted. “Still sore, but manageable.”

Steph tilted her head, studying you. “Are you sure? Don’t downplay it.”

You chuckled softly. “I’m sure, love. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“That’s like telling the sun not to shine,” she shot back, her lips twitching into a smile.

It was true. Steph had taken her role as your nurse seriously, from making sure you stayed hydrated to reminding you to do your post-op exercises. Even when you grumbled about the discomfort, she was there, encouraging and patient.

One morning, as you attempted to shuffle from the couch to the bathroom, Steph appeared out of nowhere, her hands steadying your arms.

“I’ve got it,” you insisted, gripping the crutches tightly.

“You’re stumbling, lemme help,” she replied, unwavering.

You sighed, relenting as she walked beside you, her hand hovering just in case you stumbled.

Back on the couch, she draped the blanket over you again and settled down with her laptop. “Football emails?” you asked, nodding toward the screen.

“Just emails about when I’ll be back,” she said, her tone dismissive. “I’ve told them I won’t be for another week.”

Your heart clenched. “Steph, you didn’t have to do that.”

She closed the laptop and turned to face you, her expression soft but resolute. “Of course I did. You’re my priority. Football can wait.”

Later that evening, as you both lounged on the couch, Steph insisted on putting on one of your favourite movies. “Distractions are good,” she said, tucking you into her side.

“You’re the best distraction,” you murmured, your head resting against her shoulder.

She chuckled, her arm wrapping around you securely. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

As the days turned into weeks, Steph’s care never wavered. She cheered for every small milestone, from your first successful step without crutches to the day you managed to shower on your own.

But her favourite moments were the quiet ones — when she’d catch you smiling at her after she adjusted your pillows for the tenth time, or when you’d fall asleep mid-conversation, your hand still loosely holding hers.

Through it all, Steph’s love was unwavering, her care a constant reminder that you weren’t in this alone. With her by your side, recovery didn’t seem so daunting after all.

[organic-bloodbath]

Hiiiiiiii. Could you do a Salesman fic?

I would love to see one where his usual calm and powerful energy is lost around the reader, as he's just enamoured with her. Like no shame, he is down bad and the reader is just flustered and lowkey confused cause they haven't known each other for long.

Idk if this makes any sense to you (up to you if you make it smut i don't really mind)

Teach Ddakji to me

The Salesman x American!Reader

Summary: You play Ddakji with a man at a subway station, but the game brings you two much closer than either of you were prepared to.

A/N: I'm not sure how well i was able to follow the request of how he behaves around the reader but this is what i got ;-; hope you still like 🫶🏻 (i'm so deep in love with this psycho i've been giggling during every other paragraph)

Part 2

♡♡

You rushed down the stairs in the subway station, only one minute until your train was going to leave. You weren't going to make it, but you had to try.

The doors were closing right in front of you and you wanted to scream and let out several different curses, but you didn't want to draw attention on yourself. Your day at the college lectures had just ended and all you wanted to do was to get home, have a dinner and rest.

You heard noise behind a corner, as if someone was slamming something on the floor. You went to see what was going on out of curiosity.

Two men were standing there, the other one tall and dressed in a grey suit, the other one a lot shorter and dressed in a simple hoodie and loose jeans, a worn out cap covering his messy black hair. Suddenly, the man in the suit slapped the other so hard on the face that the man's head turned to the right.

They slammed blue and red squares on top of each other over and over again, and it ended in the man in the suit slapping the other almost every time. Once in a while he handed to the man what looked like a bill of money. You had never seen anything like that happen anywhere and were confused.

You got a notification on your phone, a text message from your classmate.

"Join us for studying and then a dinner? A new restaurant opened nearby, we'll go and try it tonight," she messaged.

"Another day, i don't feel like going out tonight," you replied, getting a thumbs up emoji as a respond.

You put your phone in your pocket and turned around, almost having a heart attack and jumping a step back when you saw the man in the suit standing mere inches away from you, looking down at you with a slight smirk.

"Enjoyed the show, i hope?" he asked and your eyes widened. Fuck, he had noticed you stalking the two of them.

"Yea, um, sure," you said awkwardly. "Though i didn't know what it was, really."

Seeing his face now closer and him staring at you with his dark eyes made your heart beating faster and it wasn't only because of him scaring you for appearing out of nowhere. He was extremely handsome and the way he looked at you made you blush.

"You haven't heard of Ddakji?" he asked, but didn't seem surprised since he figured you weren't local by the looks of you. "It's a Korean game, want me to show you?"

"Sure," you said, nothing else to do than wait anyway. The man took the squares in his hands and offered you to choose one. You took the red one.

He explained the rules to you, it was simple. You only had to hit your square on the blue one and make it turn around, the upper side facing the floor.

It sounded simple but you were hesitant if you were actually able to do it. You threw it on the floor, aiming at the blue square, but it didn't move even an inch in any direction. You let out a frustrated groan.

"It's okay, very few people succeed on their first try," he said in a comforting tone and took a step closer to you, standing right in front of you. "But do you know what losing means to you, hm?"

You had a very good guess after seeing him and the other man play just a while ago.

"You're gonna slap me?" you asked with a grimace.

He smiled. Without a word, you felt a painful sting on your left cheek when he slapped you, not going any easier on you just because you were a woman.

"Jesus Christ!" you gasped and held your hand on your cheek which was definitely going to have a red mark later. You had never been slapped on your face and it hurt more than you thought it would hurt.

"My turn then," he said and grabbed his blue square from the floor. He slammed it on top of your red square and it immediately jumped in the air and landed on its other side on the floor.

He looked at you with the same smirk again.

"So what happens when you win?" you asked, crossing your arms. If you continued this game much longer, your face would be completely covered in bruises and you'd have a lot of explaining to do to your classmates.

"I get to use your body again," he said with a confident tone.

You closed your eyes and prepared for another slap, hoping that it would be the other one this time because your left cheek still hurt. When you felt a touch on your left cheek, you automatically winced a little bit.

But it wasn't a slap, it was a tender kiss. You opened your eyes when he had already leaned away and you saw a glimpse of kindness in his eyes this time. You felt your cheeks warming up and tried to avoid eye contact for a moment.

"Your turn," he said.

Your hand was shaking when you lifted the red square from the floor. You wanted to succeed, you had never been good at losing in anything, it was always about to start to piss you off if you didn't start winning too.

"Do you want me to help you?" he asked. You looked at him and soon he was right behind you, keeping an eye contact with you when he put his left hand on your waist and his right one to hold your hand which was holding the square. "Is this okay?"

He didn't put too much pressure on holding you, making sure that you gave him a permission for that. You suddenly couldn't get words out of your mouth, so you just nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. He held you tighter now and instructed how it was supposed to be done. You had to have more force when you would slam the square down.

"Spread your legs a little bit," he whispered.

"What?" you gasped in shock.

"To get a better and more firm position when you throw it," he explained, his breath hot in your ear.

"Oh," you said, cheeks burning even more. You hadn't realized you were standing almost like a stick. He guided your hand up in the air in a correct position.

"Remember to let go of it at the correct moment, i'm going to aim it for you, okay?" he said and you nodded, now much more nervous than you would have been if you did this alone.

With this help, the blue square flew into the air and landed on its other side easily. You were excited of the victory, even though it was for his help, and a wide smile spread on your face.

To be honest, for a second you wished you would have failed on purpose, just to get his hands on you again - you didn't even care if it was a slap, kiss or something else.

He let go of you and you turned around to face him, already missing his touch.

"There you go," he said with a proud expression on his face. "Now, you can choose what to do to me."

You didn't hesitate for even a second longer, you immediately slapped him on his left cheek as hard as you could. However, you knew you didn't have as much as strength in your body as he did, so the slap must have stinged a lot less. His head didn't move even an inch and he only smiled.

Right then, the train you had been waiting for arrived and you took your bag from the ground. You weren't going to miss this train just because of wanting to have another round of Ddakji with this stranger.

He offered you money, worth of 100 dollars, and put them in your hand, closing your fist around the bill. You were about to refuse but he wasn't having it.

"Treat yourself a nice dinner tonight," he said. When you didn't answer, he nodded towards the train which was about to leave soon, with or without you.

"Thank you," you said. "Um, bye."

You made it into the train just in time and when you looked back at the spot where that man had just been, he was already gone.

♡♡

The salesman didn't want you to leave. He was absolutely mesmerized by you, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. Your perfume and the smell of your shampoo still lingered in his nose, even after you weren't there anymore.

He would have wanted to ask you to stay, but he couldn't find the correct words and you were in a hurry to catch your train.

He hadn't felt like this of a woman in a long time and he wanted to find you again. To hold you again.

He didn't understand how you could have made this big of an impact on him in only under 10 minutes, but all he knew was that he needed to get to know you better.

♡♡

The next day, you arrived to the class and sat next to your friend.

"Oh my god, what happened to your face?" she gasped in shock.

Yes, there was a visible red mark on your cheek and you didn't have anything at home to cover it. You didn't really use any makeup either except mascara.

"Oh um," you started, trying to find some excuse. "It's my allergies and acne." You didn't have any allergies and hadn't had acne since you were 15. But you couldn't tell her the truth, atleast now that you didn't have time to talk much since the class was about to start.

And what were you going to say to her? A stranger in the subway station slapped you and you enjoyed it?

The teacher arrived and the noise of the door slamming closed interrupted your friend who was about to say something to interview you further.

♡♡

You walked down the subway station stairs again on your way home, just like yesterday. You had your headphones on, listening to random metal songs on Spotify and were texting your mum who catched up with you twice a week how you were doing. You were supposed to have a video call later today but she apparently had to work extra tonight, she was a nurse.

When you had reached the bottom of the stairs, you bumped into something and almost tripped back but managed to keep your balance. You looked up and saw the same man in the suit as yesterday, staring down at you with a smile.

"Hello," he greeted, not moving anywhere.

"Hello," you repeated and lifted your eyebrows, taking of your headphones. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," he said without thinking.

"Me? Why? How did you know i would be here?"

"I didn't. I only figured you might have the same daily routine and took a chance," he explained.

"Why did you want to see me?" you asked, confused but feeling butterflies in your stomach.

"I didn't have a chance to ask for your phone number yesterday," he said. "And i'd like to take you out."

"Take me out you mean murder or dinner?"

"The second option. I already finished the first task earlier," he said with a smile. Handsome and with a sense of humor.

"Fine, where did you plan to take me?"

"Anywhere you want. Are you hungry?"

"You don't even know my name," you pointed out.

"You can tell me your name and all about you on our date," he smiled.

"Aren't you straightforward," you chuckled. "Are you going to teach me Ddakji again?"

"If you wish so," he said.

You bit your lip, not sure if you should go somewhere with this stranger or not. You hadn't been asked for a dinner at a subway station before, though, so you could write it on your bucketlist and cross it out.

"Okay."

♡♡

He had taken you to a lovely dinner to enjoy local foods you had never eaten before. You rarely tried any new foods, always sticking on the ones you already knew you'd like, but now you had tried something different and loved it.

Now, you were in a park, nobody else in sight. It was already dark and you knew you had to go home soon if you wanted to get enough sleep.

You held the red square in your hand once again and aimed for slamming the blue around finally on your own.

Again, you weren't able to hit it. But you hadn't even tried properly and weren't mad about it.

"Damn it," you mumbled.

"You'll get there," he smirked, stepping closer to you.

He lifted your chin with his finger.

"Close your eyes."

You did as told and waited for the worst option, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

You felt his lips press on yours, taking you into a slow kiss. He broke the kiss but didn't let go of your chin

"Do i have to play another round of Ddakji to do that again?"

You smiled and stepped on your tiptoes to reach him better, cupped his face and pulled him in a proper, deeper kiss. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist to press your body against him tighter.

"Just so you know, i don't sleep with men on our first date," you said when the kiss was over, his hands wandering around your back they had almost reached your ass.

He moved his left hand to the back of your neck, keeping the right one on your lower back. He pushed his fingers through your hair, softly massaging your scalp.

"What is it about you that makes me so drawn to you?" he whispered, and you didn't know if the question was for you or just for himself. "Only two days and you've managed to make me absolutely addicted to you."

He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you felt blush creeping on its way to your cheeks.

He eventually walked you back home like a gentleman, not allowing you to walk anywhere at this hour. He had to make sure you got back home safely.

"Will i see you again tomorrow?" he asked before you managed to leave, gently holding your wrist.

"I have to study, i've fallen behind in couple of courses so i need to catch up," you said and his face fell a little bit. Surely he had other things to do in his life besides seeing you. "Are you free this weekend?"

His face lighted up again for your suggestion.

"For you, of course," he said and brought your hand towards his face, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You went inside your apartment and silently closed the door, trying to do everything as quietly as you could, but then the lights were turned on.

"Okay who the HELL is that man, Y/N?!" your roommate shouted at you, making you jump and almost have a heart attack. It was so late you thought she was already sleeping, she was the type to be in bed by 8pm and asleep by 9pm.

"Um, well I-"

"That is the most gorgeous man i've ever seen," she said, still speaking loudly, and stepped closer to you and pointed you with her finger. "How couldn't you tell me you were dating a new man?"

"Well i only met him a while ago," you admitted.

"Still?!" she shouted. "You know i like boy talk and you never talk about your dating life! Oh my god, have you finally downloaded Tinder or something?"

"Ew, no," you shook your head.

"You're right, there's no way men THAT hot would still be on Tinder and not married," she said and then gasped. "Girl, he's not married, is he?"

"I sure hope he's not," you said and for a moment you were afraid he might be married. I mean, how could he still be single? Your friend always talked so much that you started to doubt everything you previously knew.

"Wait a minute, i'll get us some popcorn and then you're gonna spill everything," she said and without another word, she was already in the kitchen.

And you did tell her everything because my god you needed to talk to someone about him.

♡♡

A few days and several text conversations later, you were in his hotel room, and he pressed you against the wall, his right hand leaning on the wall right by your head.

He lifted your head by his forefinger on your chin to make you look straight into your eyes.

"How long are you going to stay in Korea?" he asked.

"What, are you going to ask me to move in with you or something? Plan a summer wedding?" you joked.

"If you want to," he said with a serious face and you truly wasn't sure if he was serious or joking. You hadn't yet found a difference between the two.

"Wait what?"

You hadn't dated any Korean men before so you weren't sure how fast they progressed in the dating life. Would it be normal to propose on the first week or ask to move in? Surely not.

He smiled. "I only ask because i don't want to have you only for a short while," he said and let his fingers wander around your shoulder, sending goosebumps all over your body.

"Well, i'll be here for atleast another 5 months," you told him and then pouted. "So, no summer wedding?"

"I'd have to buy a ring first," he smirked.

"It better be a real diamond too then," you chuckled, having seen the stacks of money he had carried with him, and pulled him into another kiss.

He was soon kissing your neck, leaving a mark on your skin, until your stomach growled and interrupted him.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "I thought you had eaten before you came here."

"Well, it's been a while i suppose," you said, not really remembering anymore when the last time was.

He stepped away from you and pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"We're ordering food," he said. "What would you like to eat?"

He ordered Chinese food for you and ate it on the bed while watching some brainless comedy movie.

When the movie had ended, he went to the bathroom, leaving you to lay on the bed and making you to fall in your thoughts alone.

You had been in a relationship twice in your life, and in neither of them your relationship had moved on this fast. I mean, you weren't in an official relationship, you had been just barely hooking up, but the way he talked about you only knowing you for a few days wasn't something you had been used to at all.

In the U.S., it took guys several weeks to make any progress in relationships, atleast what you had seen and gone through.

Maybe you should slow down a little, take a step back and see what he really wants from you.

By the time he came back from the bathroom, you had fallen asleep. You looked so peaceful in your sleep, so beautiful even with your messy hair all over the pillow.

He came closer to you and pulled a blanket over you, the edge almost reaching your jaw. You stirred in your sleep, turning to lay on your side, but didn't show any signs of waking up.

He laid himself on the bed next to you and just looked at your sleeping figure for several minutes. He was afraid of getting attached to a woman so fast, in so little time, but he couldn't help it.

To him you were perfect, and he wanted to know everything about you that there was to know.

♡♡

A/N: If you want a part 2, please leave any requests you might have, i'm not sure where to go with this 🫶🏻❤️💙

[mattsgracie]

watching the world from the sidelines

july 13, 2011.

chris was 7 when he first saw you down by the lakes. he had been running in the wisteria filled fields with his brothers careless, their laughter making the atmosphere more whimsical and light. chris was having a good time before he tripped on a weed and went tumbling down a small hill, destroying little dandelions in his way. 

chris got up with a small whine, his knees scraped and slightly bloody. you watched the boy tumble down, a small giggle leaving your lips. the boy was a bit taller than you, “are you okay?” you asked. chris’ face flushed red at the embarrassment of having someone watch his tumble. but he took in a deep breath and puffed out his chest, his arms crossed against it to make him seem tougher than he was. “i’m perfectly okay.” he said, his lips in a thin line. you had two braids, tied with an orange ribbon, orange like the sunset. and your dress had the same flowers as the field did. 

you only nodded but your smile never left your lips, “hold old are you?” you asked him, “i’m six.” you held up six fingers. “i’m seven.” chris said, dropping his arms. “what’re you doing here alone?” 

you frowned slightly before shrugging, “i like it here. it's calming. it’s away from the noise.” 

now it was chris’ turn to frown, the noise? you were six, what noise could bug you that much you were at the lakes to get away? he almost opened up his mouth to ask you what you meant but turned his head towards the sound of his brothers voice calling out for him, “i have to go. my brother is calling me.” he turned back to you, “bye.” he waved before running back up the hill. he didn't look behind him but you didn't leave his thoughts. you were strange, he needed to know you more. 

“guys!” chris called to his brothers, catching up to them, on his right was his older brother (by 2 minutes!) matt. on his left was his oldest brother (by 4 minutes!) nick. 

he brought you up, saying how he didn't know anyone else lived in the town besides their summer house. his brothers didn't seem to care much, only shrugging before matt showed him a bunny he had found.

you watched as they left the fields, walking down the gravely path to the house at the end before returning to your own home. 

as you walked into your home you felt the cold chill the greyed house always made you feel. you missed the warm tangerine rays of the sun. you slowly made your way up to your room, sitting on your made bed, the princess sheets clean and delicate, cinderella printed all over it. your mother always made sure your room was clean, but your toys where you’d play left untouched. 

you closed your eyes and began to drift asleep, the boy in the field a faint memory in your dreams, bringing you warmth.

october 25th, 2015.

a few years had gone by, you and chris had become friends slowly, it took awhile for the boy to open up to you but once he did he was like the sun, always keeping you warmer than the summer sun. 

you had grown tired of hearing your dad yell at your mom, the noise only got louder and louder in your years that were always too delicate. you tried to intervene but your father could never hear you no matter what you did. your hands covering your ears couldn't do much to drown out your mothers sobs. you grabbed your sweater and headed to the lakes. the ones that brought you the peace you always needed since you were so young. 

you missed the summer boy, the autumn air only brought more cold than you needed. you sighed sitting down on the wooden bench, the wisteria was dying out- the cold killing them only to make a space for the snowflakes to make a home. 

your home was beautiful in the fall, the many different colored leaves against the purple flowers giving you inspiration for your drawings. you never took them home though. you grabbed your sketchbook from the basket next to you that you always kept here, and you began to draw. 

“nice drawing.” you froze in place, the voice sounding too familiar. when the boy came into view you realized why, it was your summer sun. but it wasn't summer? “it's not summer.” you stated. 

chris laughed, “no. we just came to visit for a week. my moms got a job opportunity in the school! we might move here permanently.” 

it should've made you excited but it didn't but still, you forced a smile on your lips, “really?” you asked. chris took a seat on the bench next to you, suddenly it was a lot warmer. “yes! which means we wouldn't just be summer friends! i’d be here all year round!” 

summer sun, all year round. now you were happy, your smile only widening, “i hope she gets it.” 

“me too.” 

you fell into a comfortable silence, content with just listening to chris talk to you as you drew the landscape in front of you. 

may 17th, 2018. 

the fighting had stopped at home, when you would get back from sitting by the lakes you would see your father with bags under his eyes, you had gotten a little brother in those 3 years. 

chris’ mom got the job. your summer sun was year round, until he stopped hanging out with you cause his brothers called you his 'imaginary girlfriend.’ he changed over the years, his golden hair that reminded you of the sun turning brown like the wisteria did in the winter. you still remember the talk, the one that left you broken hearted at thirteen. now your summer sun was just a distant memory.

your little brother was crying and you were trying to soothe him, but it wouldn't work. you heard the footsteps of your mother rushing into the room, you moved to the side and watched as she soothed your brother, his cries dying down as her warmth enveloped him and the room. but you still felt cold. 

when she put him back down you didn't leave until you deemed him asleep enough. 

you let your feet carry you, down to the lakes. 

the wisteria was starting to bloom again and the spring moon lit them up perfectly. you looked at the sketchbook beside your feet- you hadn't drawn in months. but something about tonight- it made you want to start. 

you looked out at the lakes, the one that no matter how much the years changed the people around you, never changed. 

you drew and you drew, for hours. 

“daisy?” you felt someone shift you, you opened your eyes, only to be met with eyes as blue as the sky. you slightly moved back as you looked around- oh. you fell asleep on the bench.

you looked back at chris, his brows furrowed, “are you okay?” he asked. 

you didn't answer, putting your sketchbook back in it's place in the basket. “i should go. my moms gonna freak.” was all you said to him, you watched as he frowned and you could've sworn the morning sun dimmed with it. but you only got off the bench and walked away. 

august 11th, 2020. 

you and chris found each other again last summer. you thought it was some sick joke, but for your 14th birthday chris showed up with a basket of flowers and colored pencils. he went through your sketches and found the one of him you did the very first night you met him. 

you sighed and let him back into your life. 

that's how you ended up here now, breathless and under the moonlight after a long night of swimming in the lake. you were both looking up at the stars, his arms around you like he was shielding you from the cold- and he might as well have. you felt insanely warm, just like that first summer. 

while his eyes were on the stars yours moved to him, you always liked the day better anyway. your cheeks flushed when he caught you staring. “sorry.” you whispered. he responded with shaking his head, his hands moving a hair that strayed from your braid, “you can look all y’want daisy.” he said, his smooth voice only making the butterflies in your stomach worse. 

you didn't know what possessed you, if anything did. but you leaned closer until chris finally broke that little distance. his lips moving against ours like a dance he always knew the moves to. chris kissed you like he wanted to steal your breath away. in a way he did. 

your breaths wheezy as you pulled away, and he only wore that boyish smirk on his lips. smug bastard. “not bad for a first kiss huh?” you rolled your eyes, your cheeks red as you pushed him away from you, down the same hill he went tumbling down when he first met you, but you went tumbling with him this time, your laughs and giggles mixed with his echoing.

october 11th, 2020.

chris didn't want anything serious. he sure made that clear when you saw him with another girl in the spot reserved for the both of you. you could only watch from a distance. there wasn't much you could do. 

you wiped your eyes as you made your way up to your room. it hasn't changed, the cinderella sheets stay on your bed, your dolls now put away. 

you could only watch as your little brother, now able to walk clumsily and babble out some coherent words exploring your room with a new found curiosity. you rolled over in your bed to look at him. your father trailing after him, “no cedar! don't touch that!” you winced slightly at your fathers tone, watching as he carefully moved your brother away from your dollhouse, and your fathers shaky hands placing the doll back in the same exact spot. “that's your sisters.” your father picked up your brother, and he peeked over at you over his shoulder, you waved to him, earning yourself a giggle and wave back. 

you smiled, at least that's one boy that would never let you down. but you couldn't really blame chris, the girl he was with seemed so much more interesting than you. she didn't look like she spent her nights sitting by a lake and drawing whatever. 

you closed your eyes, and hoped. 

december 24th 2022.

it had been two years of no summer sun. your mom was busy for christmas eve, wrapping gifts for the family and cooking. but she had fallen asleep and you took it upon yourself to finish up what you could for her. setting cookies out for santa and eating it, the milk and ‘snow.’ 

you looked at the gifts for cedar under the tree and you smiled. he was gonna be so happy.

chris had tried to speak to you a few times, but you ignored him, leaving the bench and shutting out the sun. 

you grabbed your sketchbook that you had started to bring into the house now, drawing the cozy image of your family sleeping. 

after you finished drawing you made your way down to the frozen lake, placing the sketchbook down in your lap as the snow hit your cheeks. but it never changed how cold you felt. 

“daisy,” you heard a broken voice call out to you. you turned to face it. there stood chris, out on christmas eve, 4 in the morning and tears streaming down his cheeks. 

he didn't look like the summer sun anymore, his features were harsh, the tears staining his pale skin making him look like a thunderstorm. you felt bad, bad enough that you wrapped your arms around the boy, chris couldn't say anything more as he just broke down into tears on your shoulder. 

you didn't know what was going on with him, but you couldn't leave him out here in the cold, so you snuck him into your house, into your room. “you don't have to talk about it.” you said, handing him hot chocolate. 

you looked at chris, 19 looked good on him, he was growing. chris looked up at you, and you saw it all, the guilt and heartbreak. you sighed, looking down at your own cup. you’d take a sip, but it was 4:30 am. and you didn't want a stomachache. 

“i just need a few minutes with you, please.” his voice sounded small and desperate, and you nodded, sitting next to him on your bed. 

“i’m not crying over a girl.” he said, “my parents- they want to split. i heard them talking.” he wiped a tear from his eyes, “i don't know what to do- if to tell my brothers-” you put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “that's not up to you. that’s your parents responsibility. but for now, focus on dealing with the news yourself. okay?”

chris nodded, looking back at you, “thank you.” he said. “i’ll always be here.” you said.

it wasn't an uncomfortable silence that fell over you both.

chris left shortly after, not before watching as you shut off all the lights in your house except for the christmas lights. he watched as you walked around your room from outside, a small smile on his lips. 

june 20th, 2024.

19. wow. you felt big. you looked around at the summer fields, it never changed, not like you. 

chris moved to LA with his brothers after his parents split. chasing some dream with them and you always saw him in the summer. you were excited, finally able to see your friend. 

your brother had gotten even bigger, he started school next year and he was growing up the way you never got to, in a quiet warm house.

the summer sun was already heating up your home, but your room stayed cold. you looked at the childhood toys that never went untouched, the dolls that were starting to collect a thicker layer of dust. 

you watched as your mom walked into your room, shutting the door behind her, how you wish you could hug her in this moment as you saw her eyes well up with tears. 

but you couldn't do much, but you still hugged her, her deep breath as she felt the air shift making her tears stop slightly. when you pulled away she walked out of the room, the light staying off, and the door closed. 

you found yourself at the lakes again, “daisy!” you turned around, and you were almost breathless. chris looked.. stunning. a backward navy blue hat on him. 

you waved at him, and he came running down the hill to you, his arms wrapping around you like you were the only thing he ever needed, and in a way you were.

“i have to tell you about it all!” he exclaimed, and you sat on the bench and like always, listened to him. his head in your lap, as you toyed with his hair. 

october 31st, 2024.

you never wanted it to happen this way, you wanted to tell him on your own terms. not by him figuring it out. 

you were by the lakes, chris standing right across from him, his eyes filled with tears as he cried. “you were never going to tell me daisy, were you?” he rasped, you shook your head. 

your own tears falling from your eyes, but you had no right to cry, “no, i’m sorry.” you breathed. chris couldn't help it, turning away from you and walking up the hill, you let out a shaky breath, sitting against the tree as you tried to keep yourself grounded. the secret was out now. you were able to catch the way his brothers embraced him, not really knowing why their youngest triplet was crying so much.

november 25th, 2024.

“i know you're here daisy. you can't leave. stop ignoring me!” chris’ voice carried over the field. “i just want to talk to you.” 

you only sighed, making your presence known by sitting on the bench, “sunshine.” you said, “been right here.” you snorted. chris looked a bit startled but sat next to you, “i’m sorry, i shouldn't have blown up on you like that-” 

“it's okay. not many people have a positive reaction to find out they’ve been seeing a ghost.” chris’ eyes narrowed into a glare, “stop making jokes. please.” you cleared your throat, “sorry.” you said. 

chris paused, a silent beat passing over you both. “when did you-?” 

“i died when i was five. drowned in the lakes.” you answered his unspoken question. his breath hitching. 

“why can i only see you?” he asked to which you shrugged, “i have no idea.” 

chris looked up at you, “can't believe i have a ghost girlfriend.” he snorted. you rolled your eyes, “only you, sunshine. only you.”

july 13, 2030.

chris was getting married, and you were helping him. sitting in your spot by the lakes, by the bench. helping him remember all his vows.

“it would've been you daisy, if i could've.” he finally said.

“i know chris. i know.” you smiled sadly at him before turning him around, pushing him towards the church.

when chris looked back, he saw it. the way the daisies flew in the wind as you were no longer there, just your lingering memory and the lakes you loved so much. he fixed the cuffs of his shirt, the daisy tattoo on his wrist burning his skin even though the ink had healed. 

a/n: here's a little thing i thought of randomly

[withleeknow]

whiskers.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; reader has whisker dimples bc this is self-indulgent as hell, written in one sitting and v unedited lol it is once again 2am and i am half asleep. the fake cut mimo has on his cheek in the pics is kind of exactly where my whiskers are lmfao word count: 0.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

"whiskers," minho says, pulling your gaze away from the laptop in front of you.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly, though you do put the device to the side to give minho your undivided attention. he's looking at you expectantly but patiently, like he's just asking you to give him a little love.

this isn't something that you've always liked about yourself, your whisker dimples as the internet has so lovingly deemed them these days. they would come out when you smile, or when your face twists into an unpleasant scowl. as a kid, people often found it odd how you had dimples so high up in your cheeks when others had them around their smile lines. you always felt a little different, a little weird whenever someone pointed this out even if it was only in harmless fun.

when minho first became aware of it, he was absolutely fascinated. he'd made you laugh so hard that you couldn't contain the bright grin that spread across your face as complete and utter joy took over you. you were clutching his arm, giggling at the story he was telling you when the dimples showed themselves, the cute indentations settling on top of your cheeks as if they were the physical manifestation of the happiness you felt inside.

you remember what minho did. he had cupped your face gently in his hands, then traced the soft lines with his fingers as he marveled at you. "you look like a cat," he had said, and you didn't really know what to make of it. it was so early in your relationship that you weren't sure if he was complimenting you or making fun of you like the others had.

but then the stars in his eyes twinkled a little brighter, the delighted quirk of his lips expressing his wonder better than words could. he had kissed you right there, softer and sweeter than he ever did in the short time that you had known each other back then, and you quickly learned that oh, maybe this little detail about yourself that you were embarrassed of your whole life was a good thing after all.

you still don't know the reason minho likes them so much. to you, they've always been something to ignore as best as you can, something to not draw attention to because you don't want people to highlight that maybe you're a little different from everybody else.

even as you sit here, years later with the love of your life who's got a very particular request for you, you're still not entirely sure why he's obsessed with your odd dimples enough to want to see them almost every day. it's a mystery to you and yet, it makes you feel all warm and bubbly inside whenever he sends this simple demand your way.

you adhere to his request nonetheless. when the dimples appear, you watch as a smile blooms on his face, growing bigger and bigger until it makes his eyes crinkle. like an instant boost of serotonin, you think.

minho traces them with gentle fingers, gazing at you in awe as if it's the first time he's seeing you like this. when he leans closer, you can't help but meet him halfway until his lips are tentatively brushing your cheeks. you can't help your own smile either, when it deepens and only accentuates the small moon-shaped dents which he kisses. five times on each side, and then he's peppering kisses all over your face while you laugh and accept the sudden burst of love.

sometimes he calls them whiskers, sometimes he calls them moons.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 31.05.2024]

[ixloom819]

It's What's Inside

What if MC had a thing for blood, specifically the taste of it? How would the lads find out? This is heavily based on the song "The Red Means I Love You". Trigger warnings for blood, self-harm, violence, slight mention of bullying, maybe toxic relationships? If I miss any, let me know and I'll add them. Also, if your name is Andrea or Cassius, I swear I'm not targeting you; these are just names I'm using for the fic.

Caleb: (This is also backstory for this MC)

Your fascination started all the way back with the Unicorn team. No one had really seen how a drop of your blood made its way into the corner of your mouth on one of the experiments, so no one knew where it started. But it was something different than what the scientists would feed you. It was something alive, something that was entirely you, and you craved it.

Everyone was worried when you started scratching yourself to draw blood, even more so when you refused to get bandaged and kept pinching the area to squeeze more blood to lick up. They tried all sorts of punishments and persuasion to get you to stop, but you wouldn't.

Caleb was the only one who tried to understand you. He would listen to you about why you wanted to drink blood so much, then do something no one expected: offer his own blood. Because that was who Caleb was. He would never think bad of you, and he would look out for your every need, even the unconventional ones.

Caleb had hoped that once you had escaped together, you might not feel the need to drink blood anymore, as if it were a coping mechanism for dealing with the trauma. But even if that was the case, your urges didn't go away. That was fine. He would still be there with zero judgment and a willing arm. The last thing he wanted was for you to hurt yourself over this.

Then something unprecedented happened: Josephine got a call from the school that you had attacked a girl in your class with some scissors. Josephine and Caleb rushed to the school, where Josephine apologized and promised it would be a one-time event, and Caleb went to comfort you, who was shaken up by the whole ordeal.

"I-I didn't mean to hurt her," you tried to explain between sobs, "it-it's just- I really like Andrea. She made me happy, like you. S-so I wanted some of her blood... But-but she wasn't like you. She didn't understand. She-she screamed and cried and- she said I was hurting her... I didn't want to hurt her..."

Somewhere along the line, you had associated drinking someone's blood as showing love and happiness towards them. Josephine and Caleb had to explain that taking someone's blood like that hurt them, and it was considered wrong by most people. If you had the urge to drink someone's blood, you had to ignore it.

"...Does that mean, when I drink your blood... I'm hurting you?" you had asked Caleb afterwards, looking ashamed and miserable. Caleb quickly scooped you into a hug. "Not at all, pipsqueak. I'm strong, I can handle it. If it's something you need, I'm glad to give it to you."

Since you were so young, the incident was eventually forgotten by your classmates, though teachers and concerned parents kept an eye on you. You learned from your mistakes and didn't even mention your desire for blood to your friends. Each time you felt the urge, you remembered Andrea screaming and stayed silent.

At least until Cassius. He was your middle school crush. He was good-looking, athletic, pretty smart, and he always seemed nice to you. The desire to taste his blood, to have the essence of someone you loved inside of you, was irresistible. Maybe if you explained it to him, he would be willing to give you some blood?

But no. Once he realized you weren't joking, he looked at you with revulsion. He called you a psychopath and left you ashamed and broken-hearted. He told people what you had done, and children that age were happy for any excuse to bully others and put them down. It's not like anyone really believed it (who would want to believe one of their classmates was like that?), but that didn't stop the torment.

When Caleb heard what had happened, he figured something was wrong with him because he was glad. Sure, he was angry at Cassius for saying such cruel things to you and starting the bullying, but he also didn't want you to find someone else who would give you blood. That privilege, that right, was his alone. Blood was a special connection towards you, and he wanted to be the only one with that connection.

You learned to be ashamed of your desire. You already knew it was something that caused pain, but now you were learning how abnormal and unorthodox people saw it. You started believing yourself a monster for your cravings. Caleb did his best to dissuade you, but self-hatred has deep roots.

At least Caleb accepted you for the monster you were. He was your safe space, the one person you could turn to to satisfy your cravings. He was always willing to give blood to you whenever you needed it. Even when he left for flight school, he made you promise not to take blood from yourself. "Just wait a little longer, pipsqueak," he'd say, "I'll be home soon. I don't want you to hurt yourself for this."

Then he and Josephine died, and it was like your pillar had been smashed to pieces. Your grief was all-consuming, and you had no one to turn to. No one understood you like Caleb did. No one loved you like Caleb did.

And now, a year later, he was back.

Once Caleb had you safe from outside eyes and relatively calmed you down from your (well-deserved) freakout, he took your hands and looked at you solemnly. "Pipsqueak... can I look at your arms?"

You tensed. There was one reason why he'd ask that, and you wouldn't be able to hide it from him. The lump in your throat too large to force words through, you shook your head minusculely.

Caleb didn't have to look at your arms, and frankly, he didn't want to. The fact that you refused and the guilt-ridden expression, though hidden well, was enough for him. "Oh, pips..." he murmured.

Tears welled in your eyes. You had disappointed him. You had hurt yourself when you knew he didn't want you to, that it made him sad. "I'm sorry..." you whispered, trying not to break in front of him. "I... It's been so lonely... I couldn't... I wanted to feel closer to you..."

Caleb pulled you into a hug, stroking you soothingly and shushing you. You couldn't help but cry. "It's alright, pipsqueak, it's alright... I'm here now... I'm not leaving, ever again... everything's going to be okay..."

Eventually, when your tears dried up, Caleb sat you on his lap and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked at it with surprise and slight trepidation: a switchblade.

"It's been a while, right?" Caleb said in his light tone, rolling up his sleeve. "I figured it might help you feel better."

You clutched the blade tightly. "Caleb, I... I don't know..." He had just come back from the dead. It wasn't right for you to hurt him so soon after reuniting with him.

Caleb looked you dead in the eyes, with the no-nonsense expression that always helped calm your inner demons. "I want to," he said plainly. "I missed you, every part of you. Especially this."

You couldn't deny it. You missed him as well. You missed this too.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the blade against his forearm, just enough to draw a bit of blood. Then you pressed your lips against it, sliding your tongue across his skin.

So much had changed, both with time and with Caleb. But he still tasted the same. No matter what happened, he would still be your Caleb. You could still find these moments of happiness with him. And maybe that was enough for you.

Zayne:

Zayne glanced at you as you washed the potatoes, a contented smile on your face as you hummed under your breath. You seemed so at peace and happy here with him. It made his heart warm.

You didn't always look so happy. He remembered when you both were younger, when terrible rumors were spread about you threatening a student. He had scoffed then, and he did now. How could someone as kind and wonderful as you ever think of wanting to harm someone?

You always seemed so... downtrodden by the rumors. Zayne never asked you if they were true, not wanting you to think he believed them at all. But he always made sure that you knew he was in your corner in his own way. He wasn't the most affectionate person, but he made sure his quiet presence was constant around you.

Until that day-

A spark of pain flashed through his hand, and he hissed, the knife dropping onto the cutting board. He saw the blood welling up on his finger, and he quickly moved it away from the vegetables.

"Are you- okay...?" You turned at Zayne's noise of pain, then your eyes locked on his finger, the blood still welling up.

Zayne did notice the slight shift in your tone, but he dismissed it for now. "Yes, I'm alright. I was just lost in thought," he said, already moving towards the first aid kit. "I'm pretty sure none of it got on the food, but I'll have to clean the knife-"

"Hang on," you said quickly, grabbing his hand before he could move away. Zayne looked at you curiously. There was a certain intensity to you that was foreign to him. Your eyes were still locked on his finger, the blood gathering together into a drop.

You felt a swell of trepidation. You threatened to show a part of you that could scare him away... but you had been craving this for so long. And you wanted him to see this part of you. You hoped that... he would still accept you after this.

"Let me," you murmured, bringing his hand towards your mouth. Slowly, so he had time to stop you if he wanted. "...kiss it better first."

Zayne looked at you with bewilderment. He had never seen you like this before. The doctor in him said that this was unsanitary, that he should clean the cut first. But he was never one to deny you.

When he made no protest, you pressed your mouth against the cut. You suppressed a shiver as the taste of his blood invaded your mouth. It tasted sweet... was it from all the desserts he ate? Before you could think about it, your tongue slipped out and caressed the cut. You heard a sharp inhale, and Zayne's body flinched.

The motion shocked you back to reality, and you quickly moved away, dropping his hand. You forgot, pressing your saliva against his cut would sting. What were you thinking? You'd let your cravings get the best of you, and now not only did you weird him out, you also caused him additional pain. "Sorry," you said quickly, turning away back towards the potatoes and scrubbing them with a bit of aggressiveness.

Zayne looked at you like he was seeing a whole new person. He had seen your expression as your lips went against his cut. You looked... euphoric? No, that was too intense. You looked... happy. Like you had wanted to do something like that for a while. And when you pressed your tongue against him...

He didn't mean to react like that. It just took him by surprise, and while it caused a minuscule amount of pain, it certainly wasn't unmanageable. But he caught that fear in your eyes. Like you had done something wrong.

"Darling," he said softly, "is everything alright?"

"Yeah," you said, not turning to face him. "Here, I'll clean the knife while you clean up."

You moved your hand towards the discarded knife, but Zayne took your hand and pulled you to face him. You let him turn you, but didn't meet his eyes.

"I don't mind you kissing me better," Zayne said in a reassuring tone. "But I think... it means something more to you. You looked... happy. And then scared."

Seeing you still avoided his gaze, he put his hands under his chin and gently lifted it. "You can talk to me about anything, my love," Zayne said softly.

Meeting his gorgeous hazel eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I..." You looked away again, ashamed. "...I like the taste of blood." There, the worst of it is out in the open now.

Zayne was expecting something like that, based on your reaction to his bleeding finger. "May I ask why?" he responded. "Is it the taste? A compulsion?"

He didn't sound any different, any harsher. But you didn't want to look at him and find what you expected. "...It's a bit of a compulsion," you admit. "But... it's more than that. When I care about someone a lot... I want to taste them. I want to feel like a part of them is... inside of me. Normally, I'm able to ignore it..." you trailed off.

It surprised Zayne how pleased he was to hear that. That you cared about him so much that you wanted to feel that much closer to him. "But my little accident pushed you towards temptation?" he offered a conclusion. Flushing with embarrassment, you nodded.

Zayne placed his cool hand on your warm cheek and guided your gaze back to him. "I don't mind sharing some blood with you," he spoke softly, "if that is what you desire from me."

If his words didn't steal the breath from your lungs, the soft, accepting expression on his face made you melt. Your doubts and self-condemnations faded into the background. "...Really?"

Zayne gave you one of his rare smiles. "Of course, darling." After a pause, he added, "Though I would suggest we find a more sanitary option."

Xavier:

Xavier and you were sent on a mission to a site with high Metaflux readings. The Wanderers here were fairly high leveled, and you had to fall back.

You hid behind a cliffside, reloading your guns. "There's still a lot of them. How're you doing, Xavier?"

"I'm doing alright," he replied, "but I think one of them got me a bit."

"What?!" you looked up, alarmed. "Where? Let me see."

Xavier showed you his arm. The sleeve was rolled up, and you could see a small scratch on his arm. And... blood was pooling up. It wasn't coming out at an alarming rate, but a few droplets were forming at the cut.

The scarlet droplets shining from the moonlight were a mesmerizing sight...

"Starlight?"

You snapped out of your trance. "Sorry." Ignore it, ignore it, it's not important right now. "Do you have a first aid kit?" You tore your eyes away from his arm to check yourself for one.

"No," Xavier said, having the same results as you. "It's not a big deal. I'm just worried about the blood getting on my hands and making my grip loose."

The thought of his blood running down his arm to his fingers - of you licking it all up - made your body heat up and a shiver run down your spine. Get a grip!

You swallowed, gathering your thoughts. "I think we have a few minutes," you said, glancing around the area. "Pinch the area and try and get as much blood out as possible. When it stops, then it's not likely to bleed, though I can't guarantee that in battle. Maybe you can make a small makeshift bandage."

When you looked at Xavier, he looked... surprised. "How do you know that?"

You flushed. Obviously, you sounded like you knew from personal experience. How to explain? "I pick at hangnails and they bleed sometimes," you explained, "I do that to get them to stop bleeding faster since I don't normally carry band-aids on me." It was true, so hopefully it would satisfy him.

Xavier looked at you oddly. What was going through his head? The man was an enigma on the norm, but it felt much more pressing when you knew he was thinking about you, especially the part of you you've always tried to hide.

"So... like this?" Without breaking eye contact, Xavier's hand moved and pinched the cut on his arm. The blood escaped a bit faster, and again, your eyes were locked onto the cut.

You swallowed, trying to keep track of the conversation. "Yeah... you'll, um, want to get into a rhythm of relaxing and squeezing it, so you can... tell when it's done bleeding."

Xavier let out a small hum and followed your instructions, loosening his pinch then tightening it again. The blood slowly, tantalizingly, trickled down his arm, and stars it was hard not to pounce on him.

Xavier took in the scene, how you looked at his arm - or specifically his blood - with such... hunger? No, fascination was a better word. You were captivated by the blood flowing out of his arm.

He knew you weren't the sadistic type, so you weren't taking joy in his pain. He hadn't seen you act this way in any of your incarnations. But maybe this was one of the quirks this version of you had. And he would never push you away for it.

"How do I tell when the wound's done bleeding?"

His question brought you back to reality. "Um... you wipe it off each time, or ever so often, depending on what you want to do, and... well, you'll be able to see when it stops bleeding."

"I see." Then he did something unexpected. He stretched his arm towards you. "Could you clean it up then?"

Your eyes finally broke from his arm to meet his in shock. Don't go crazy, don't go overboard, don't just do what you want, you'll scare him away, clean it up normally, don't-

"I can tell you want it," Xavier interrupted your attempts at control. "I don't understand it, but I'm fine giving it to you. Take it,"

You were sure you looked a mess, on the edge of separation. You walked towards him, your legs feeling weak. You gently held his arm and met his gaze. "You're... you're sure you want this?" You had to check, had to make sure you were on the same page and you weren't going to scare him away.

"Of course, starlight."

You couldn't resist the temptation anymore. You brought the end of the blood trail to your lips and slowly followed it upwards with your tongue. You felt Xavier shiver. You're pretty sure you did, too.

You went all the way up to his cut, and you lapped up the blood. Other than a small flinch, Xavier gave no indication that the saliva hitting his cut did anything to him at all.

Xavier tasted... tangy. You could taste a stronger hint of iron in it, the metallic taste sending a pang at the roof of your mouth. Yet it also tasted... tingly. Like it was full of energy, quivering in your mouth. You moved your lips away, your tongue covering every bit of your mouth to make sure you didn't lose any of the sacred, forbidden flavor.

When you looked up at Xavier, there was no disgust to be seen. A little confusion and curiosity, but none of the horror you had come to expect from people. Instead, he pinched his arm again, causing more blood to seep out.

"I guess it's not done bleeding," he said in that constantly calm tone. He moved his arm back towards you. "Will you clean it again?"

Gladly.

Rafayel:

You're slowly going insane.

It wasn't even his fault. How could it be? He couldn't control who he was born as. He couldn't control his physiology.

It was all you. You and your twisted cravings and your perverted sense of love. You were the problem here, and you didn't know how to solve it.

You had been getting closer to Rafayel. So close that the urge, the desire for his blood, was getting too loud to ignore.

He had his quirks of his own, you told yourself. Sure, he was judgy towards others, but he seemed to hold a soft spot for you. Maybe he'd be different from Cassius. Maybe he would give you a shot.

But then he told you he was Lemurian. Not only that, but his kind was being hunted down because their blood granted immortality.

What were you supposed to do?! Obviously, you couldn't tell him about you wanting his blood. He could take that to believe you wanted to use him for immortality. That would make you the same as EVER in his eyes.

And you didn't even want immortality! Not if you'd have to watch Rafayel grow old and die, leaving you with the consequences of your thirst. You were not about to create a sort of Bella and Edward relationship.

"-cutie? Helloooooo?"

You snapped out of your thoughts to see Rafayel waving his hand in front of you, his paintbrush tucked between his fingers.

"Geez, if you're so bubble-headed, you won't be able to protect me well, Miss Bodyguard," Rafayel teased, giving you a cheeky smile.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Sorry, I just spaced out for a sec." You glanced at the painting he was working on. "It's turning out pretty good."

You waited for him to dramatically gasp and demand a better compliment than 'pretty good'. When he was quiet, you turned to look at him, surprised to see him studying you seriously.

"Something's bothering you." He said it bluntly - not a question, but a fact.

You flushed a bit. "I'm fine, Raf, really-"

"It's not just today," he cut you off. "You've been thinking a lot since I... told you about who I am." You could hear a sliver of vulnerability in his voice. "Does it... bother you? That I'm not human?"

"No, no!" you said quickly. "It's not that at all, it's..." You trailed off. How could you tell him the truth? "...Something else."

His gaze didn't falter. "But it is something."

You didn't respond. Again, it was a statement, not an inquiry. You didn't need to confirm it. You both knew it was true.

"You can talk to me," Rafayel spoke up, his voice holding a tenderness that wasn't often found in favor of his playfulness.

A nearly hysterical laugh bubbled up before you could swallow it down. "No, not really," you said with bitter amusement in your tone, raking a hand through your hair. "Because I can't say it without sounding greedy, two-faced, or insane." There, it was out in the air.

Rafayel looked nonplussed. "Well, I know you're not the first two." Then, with a teasing smile, he added, "Thought the court's still out for the last part."

Smile. Laugh it off. He meant it as a joke. Don't be so sensitive. But you couldn't. That hit harder than it was meant to. Cassius' words rose to the surface of your memory. Freak. Disgusting. Lunatic.

He seemed to sense that he had touched a sensitive spot. "I'm not going to judge you," he said, emphasizing his words to show his sincerity. "Please, tell me what's bothering you. I want to know. I want to help."

The breath you took in trembled more than you wanted. You had to look away. You couldn't bear seeing his face, or more specifically, how it would change.

"...I want to taste your blood," you forced the words out. You waited to hear his inhale of breath, the shift in his body, the inevitable question of why.

Nothing. You dared to look at Rafayel.

No disgust. No judgement. He just waited for you to say what you wanted. You had to look away again. You started pacing, wringing your hands as if you could push all your anxiousness out of you.

"It's not- well, it is an urge, but it's more than that. When I get close to someone, I... want to taste their blood. It helps me... feel closer to them. I'm normally able to ignore it, but... I really care about you, Rafayel, and I want to be closer to you.

"But... you're Lemurian," you continued, running your fingers through your scalp. "And apparently, your blood gives immortality. And... I don't want to live forever. I don't want to see you die." You felt yourself get choked up. "I want to be closer to you... to love you the way I want to... but I can't. And it's killing me..."

When you dared to look up at Rafayel, he wasn't portraying fear or pity. He had his head lowered, brow furrowed, and fingers holding his chin, as if deep in thought. You watched his lips move and thought you made out '...wouldn't forget anymore...'

"...Raf?" you spoke up, wishing you did a better job at hiding the vulnerability in your tone.

He looked up, snapping out of his own thoughts, then stood up. He quickly approached you and wrapped you in his arms.

"It's alright," he said softly. "I don't think you're a bad person for knowing what you want. It may be unconventional, but it's not to cause pain to others. That's not who you are."

His words of reassurance and acceptance made your eyes water, and you buried your face into his chest to try and regain your composure, an act that made him chuckle.

"As for the immortality complication... we can talk about it later. It may not be as impossible or terrible as you may think. In any case, we'll find a way to get you what you need.

"I will do whatever it takes to make you happy."

Sylus:

You weren't sure how to deal with your growing affection (and therefore growing thirst) for Sylus.

On one hand, he made it obvious he wasn't afraid of blood or pain, and he certainly didn't mind it. He walked through battlefields on his own and walked out victorious with his injuries healing on the spot. He didn't even die when you put a bullet through his heart.

But that was part of the problem. He healed way too fast. Your eyes would lock onto a cut or a grazed bullet wound, and it would heal before your eyes, not even leaving a bloodstain for you to stare at. If you knew how much Sylus would mean to you, maybe you would've taken advantage of it when you were on top of him with his blood flowing out of his chest.

At the same time, you feared what he might think of you. Sure, he killed men and acted like he enjoyed it, but he didn't play the role of a locksick vampire. He did what was necessary for a crime boss. Meanwhile, you did it for pleasure and your own selfish wishes.

Did that make you more of a monster?

So you did what you always did. You pushed your desires to the back of your mind and did your best to keep your head in the game.

But Sylus is very observant of what he's interested in. And people's desires are his specialty.

He didn't miss the way your eyes would lock onto any wounds he got in fights. He also didn't miss how... disappointed you looked as you watched them heal. It wasn't obvious, but he was hyperaware of the slightest shift in your expression.

It wasn't animosity or the desire for him to be hurt. No, he was certain you had gotten past that phase where you were... repulsed by him. It mystified him. He needed to know why you acted in such a strange way.

Which is why he invited you to spar with him. Specifically to spar with knives.

"Remind me again what the point of this is?" you asked, tossing your dagger between your hands while looking at Sylus scrutinously.

"I know how well you handle guns, kitten," Sylus answered with a smirk, twirling his own dagger in his larger-than-life hands. "I want to see if you do as well with a blade."

You let out a small exhale and held the dagger steadily in your hands, preparing for the fight. "Well, I hope not to disappoint then."

Sylus grinned, clutching his blade in a relaxed yet firm grip. "Oh, I'm sure you won't." He lunged, beginning the fight.

You were a good fighter. You dodged all his attacks (not like he was aiming to seriously hurt you), identified his feints, and made him have to put a bit more energy into avoiding your weapon. His kitten certainly had some sharp claws.

But he didn't invite you here for a nice workout. So, as you swung for his face, he hesitated just long enough for your blade to slice his cheek. He could feel the air sting the cut, and a small drop of blood trickle down his face.

And there it was. The laser focused attention, your body slowing to a stop, your dilated eyes watching the drop's path. It was so strange, yet so addicting to see.

"It looks like you got me, kitten," Sylus said in his rumbly deep voice, which was not helping you focus on the matter at hand. You knew you were in a fight, but he was bleeding, and it wasn't healing instantly. Why? Was it because you were the one attacking him? No, that couldn't be it. When you attacked him the first time, he healed his cut away-

He was suddenly right in front of you, his knife lying gently against your throat. "You got distracted," he purred, "and now you're dead."

You knew he was right. If you had frozen up like that in a real fight, the enemy would've taken advantage of you and stuck a blade in you. But it was a sparring match, it was Sylus who was bleeding, and that drop of blood was so tantalizingly close right now...

Sylus took note of your continued silence, your continued staring, even when he had you at knifepoint. You were so entranced, and he had to know why.

"I've noticed you pay quite a lot of attention whenever I get hurt, sweetie," he said in a soft, yet teasing tone. "Do you like seeing me injured that bad?"

His words finally got through to you, and you flushed, forcing yourself to glance away. What were you thinking?! You were way too obvious, and now he knew something was up. What could you say?

"...You're not healing right away," you said. An observation that would be considered an explanation, if not a very weak one.

Sylus gave that rich chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. "It's not because I don't want it to right now. But that's not the point." He lowered his knife and got closer.

"Every time you see me get hurt, you look... enchanted. Almost like you want to pounce on me. And then you're... disappointed when it heals."

Your heart pounded. He noticed? Even then?

"I can't help but be ever so curious," he continued, "so I let up this little sparring match to get an answer from you." He leaned in to whisper in your ear. "What is it about my injuries that captivate you so, kitten?"

It was a fair question, you knew it. Anyone would be curious about such a response. But you couldn't help the shame rising in you, the voices of the past berating you about how freakish and awful you were for what you wanted. You couldn't look at him. "It's not... about you getting hurt..."

Sylus could tell he was breaking through your walls. "Then what is it?" he urged.

A lump was forming in your throat, as if your body rebelled at the idea of telling him the truth. "...You'll... think I'm a monster for it..." you whispered.

Sylus could tell you meant it, but he couldn't contain the disbelieving scoff. "Darling, you know what I do for a living, right? I'm certain you could fill a lake with the blood I spilled. If there's a monster here, you're talking to him." He softened his tone, "So you don't have to fear any secret you may be hiding from me. I just want to know."

You tried to breathe, to calm down. Sylus wasn't going to judge you for this, Sylus wasn't going to judge you for this...

"...When I care about someone," you began slowly, as if walking through a landmine, "I want to feel... closer to them. I want to feel like... a part of them is inside me. When I care about someone deeply, I..."

You fought to get the words out. Sylus waited patiently.

"...I want to taste their blood," you finally whispered, your cheeks blazing with the shame of admitting such twisted desires.

Sylus' expression didn't change. No furrow of the brow, no thinning of the lips, no sense that he was pulling back in any sense.

"Does that mean you want to taste my blood?" Sylus asked instead. "Does that mean you care about me that much?"

Somehow, your cheeks burned brighter at that. "I... I guess," you said shyly. "Normally, I'm able to ignore it better, but..." you trailed off.

The smirk on Sylus' face was nothing but victorious.

"Well then," he drawled, "a little blood is a small price to pay for your affections."

Sylus gently grabbed your chin and guided you to him, towards his face, towards his cheek, where the blood was drying. "Well?" Sylus asked challengingly. "What are you waiting for? It's what you want, right? It's all yours."

Your eyes locked onto the trail of blood down his cheek. You looked into his eyes one last time for any hesitation, any sign he would rescind his offer.

When you found none, you tentatively leaned in and touched the end of the trail with your tongue. It had been outside the body for too long; it didn't taste like anything. Your tongue moved, trailing up his sharp cheekbones, and you swear you felt Sylus shiver.

At last, you got to the cut and lapped up fresher blood. It was salty, probably mixed with the sweat of the workout. You let out a soft sigh, almost a moan, and swiped your tongue against the cut again.

Sylus flinched, and you stopped. Had you gone too far? You started pulling back, an apology already on your lips.

His hand cupped the back of your head, keeping it in place. "Don't stop," he said lowly, almost a growl. "Not unless you want to. I'm fine, it just stung a little."

You stopped resisting his hand. "You're sure?" you asked.

You didn't see as much as you felt his smirk. "I'm all yours, darling. Body, blood, and soul."

[jo-speaks]

🍬fluff, #8 with Quinn Hughes

prompt #8: "they're not you" quinn x atheltictrainer! reader

overview: quinn gets jealous when you're helping out his teammates.

wc: 715

Being in a relationship with the team’s athletic trainer was no easy feat for Quinn Hughes. 

He knew that it was literally your job to work with his teammates when they needed it, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous when any one of them stepped into the training room where you held the fort. 

Granted, he was glad he rarely had to step in there with his team, not wanting to let down the rest of his team on the ice. But a small part of him kept wishing for a minor injury so he’d have an excuse to see you. 

“Does that hurt?” You asked Petey, him having walked in with a complaint about his knee. 

He shook his head whilst wearing a grimace on his face. You gave him a look, not believing his not-so-convincing statement. “Petey, I don’t get paid for you to lie to me.”

“Givin’ her a tough time, Petey?” Conor Garland teased, stepping into the room with his hand on his ear. 

Elias scoffed, laughing at the situation at hand, “I think I just need some ice. We’ve got a game later.” 

You rolled your eyes, “And I think I got my degree by knowing more about this than you.”

The two men erupted in laughter. Having built a friendship with you outside of work due to Quinn, they knew you were only teasing them. Slightly. 

As you turned around to scoop some ice into a bag for Elias’ knee, Quinn just so happened to be walking past the training room, ears perking up at the laughter that flowed out of the walls. He didn’t want to feel the twang in his stomach as much as he did, but unfortunately, the sound of your bubbly laugh around anyone else but him would do that. 

He halted his steps, redirecting himself to join the three of you as you instructed Conor to sit down on one of the beds so you could patch him up. When you turned back around to wrap the ice onto Elias’ knee, you caught Quinn’s eye. 

“Hey! Everything okay?” You questioned, concern laced in your voice as well as your face even though he walked in showing no signs of any injury. 

Quinn nodded, leaning against your desk, “Yeah, just got curious about what all the laughing was about.”

Elias leaned forward so only you could hear him, “What he means is, he’s jealous of me and the married man in the room.”

You snorted, finishing up on his knee and turning to face Conor to handle the bleeding of his reopened wound, “Petey was giving me a hard time was all.” You said over your shoulder. 

As you quickly bandaged Conor’s ear, you let him know he could just relax in the room if he wanted to. He agreed, making himself comfortable on the bed he was lying on. 

Quinn’s face contorted once you were making your way to document his teammates’ visits on your laptop. Immediately noticing, you quirked your eyebrow at his facial expression, not understanding why he was looking at you in that manner.

“You sure you alright? You look like someone shoved a stick up your ass.” 

He cringed at your vulgarity, “Are you sure he was just giving you a hard time? Nothing else was going on?”

“What, are you jealous or something?” You joked, not believing he actually was until your question was met with silence. “Quinn-”

“It just sounded like how you laugh when you’re with me.” He mumbled, face flushing red. 

You tried to laugh as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw the attention of his friends. Placing your hand on the one he was leaning on, you gave him a reassuring squeeze, simultaneously asking for his eyes to meet yours. 

“Firstly, that’s how I laugh around everyone. Second, one has a girlfriend and the other is married with a child whom you’re the godfather of.” He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by you as you continued speaking, “Plus, even if they were single, they’re not you.”

Quinn’s body seemed to relax at your words of affirmation, all the previous jealousy suddenly fizzling out of his body. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. You’re the only one for me, Quinn Hughes.”

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Could you do a one-shot where alastor is super nervous when meeting reader, not really on his face but more his body language where when she shakes his hand he continues shaking it or doesn't let go immediately. nervous smile too lol, thanks love your stuff!!

Heeey I wrote it hope you don't mind some interpretation on my part! You didn't mention why Alastor was nervous so I just did whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tags: Oblivious Alastor, Cartoonist Writer, Humor, awkward affection, Alastor is either oblivious or in-denial, Nifty is Nifty and you should all love her

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

Alastor’s introduction to you was not a willing one. Charlie had started a bit of a bookclub at the Hotel as some odd attempt at bonding. Alastor wanted no part of it, but after the 532nd time Charlie asked him he said something particularly scathing and the princess was cruel and told Vaggie, and the ex-exorcist would NOT stop stabbing his door until he finally relented.

Of course, his choice of book was one called ‘Blank’. It was a notebook with nothing written in it. Very easy to discuss at a bookclub.

Charlotte was not impressed and Vagatha once again starting throwing vague threats in his direction. How tempted he was to just kill both of them, but alas this hotel has been the greatest form of entertainment he’s had in years (is what he tells himself.)

Darling Nifty came to his rescue, offering up a variety of different light-reading to be discussed in the future. Most of which were….not to his taste. Nifty’s interests highlighted most definitely, but Alastor quickly chucked the books out the window when the story turned to ….that.

As the number of books dwindled, he was just about prepared to give up on this stack entirely and fetch something meaningless to pretend to read (who’d check, anyway?).

He picked up one, a flimsy comic-book like thing and rolled his eyes once before giving it a go. The story wasn’t anything particularly interesting. The plot was just two bunnies going to get some ice cream. But the wordplay, the exaggeration of all the smallest obstacles, how self-aware and absurd it was gave him a good laugh. The Radio Demon’s first introduction to your work.

Although the bookclub idea ended up going nowhere, Alastor found himself seeking out more of your works. Another about a man just making a taco, one about a woman folding her laundry. So many little, day-to-day situations amplified to a ridiculous amount. Clever one-liners and humorous puns sprinkled throughout kept it intelligent enough for him to maintain interest despite the absurdity of it all.

Eventually he got a cartoon you drew that seemed just the same as the rest. Some random cute cartoon raccoon drawing some random little cartoon things. There was a scene in it though that stuck to Alastor’s mind (and dare he say, heart) like glue.

In it, the raccoon was confronted by a shark. “Why do you bother making these?” the shark sneered “No one reads these but you, no one looks at them but you, there’s no point.”

“Why does there need to be a point?” The raccoon said. Alastor’s ears straightened up on their own accord as he read “Even if no one sees it, it’s something I made and it’s some I enjoyed making.”

“Even if you put it out there, no one will care about it.”

“Someone will. They might not say anything but there’ll always be at least one.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound? No one gives a crap about your ‘passions’!”

“I do.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound-“

And then the raccoon pressed a button and an anvil fell onto the shark, comedically turning it into a pancake. “Your argument doesn’t have any depth.” The raccoon said. The story moved on from there.

It struck a bit of a chord with Alastor, he could admit that much to himself. And the raccoon’s way of dealing it was something he’d keep in mind for his next encounter with an annoyance. He didn’t put much stock in it, as storytellers and their stories don’t always agree on all things.

Your comics were a little joyful distraction when he needed them, that was all. Nothing deep and profound.

“BOSS!”

Alastor slammed shut the book he was reading, his grin never faltering though his twitching ears indicated a slight nervousness. He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Hello, Nifty! Did you need something?”

Nifty scamped up his chair and onto his lap, settling down andstaring up at him with her one big eye. “BOSS BOSS BOSS BOSS I MET THE DEMONESS WHO DRAWS THOSE CARTOONS YOU LIKE”

Alastor’s eye twitched “Oh? Well, that’s neat.”

She stood up, squishing his face between her hands and stared more as her grin grew wider and more manic “Did you want to meet her?”

Yes

“Now, now, Nifty.” Alastor said as he removed her hands from his face “There’s better ways to waste one’s time.”

Nifty tilted her head, staring at him as though it would allow her to see into his mind. Her expression shifted into….One he hadn’t seen on Nifty, admittedly. The best way he could describe it was ‘smug’. But what would she have to be smug about?”

“If you say so, Boss!” She chirped, hopping off his lap and trotting off “But yeah I was at the Evermore Book-Store and she was there working ‘cause I guess that’s what she does for a livng….” Nifty’s voice faded away as the little maid walked off, not caring her rambling were being said to no one.

After Alastor had finished his errands for the day, he happened by that very store…for…Reasons. Upon entering it, he realized he had no idea who- what- he was looking for. The store itself wasn’t large. A couple patrons, one large hulking demon with tiny spectacles at the desk and a much smaller one organizing shelves.

One of the workers, then?

Not that he cared.

“Pardon me!” Alastor chirped to the desk demon. Their big eyes seemed to move in slow motion to him, a low grunt accompanying the acknowledgement. “I’m looking for someone, yes? The author of some silly comics?”

The demon slowly narrowed their eyes, lips curling up into a snarl as a growl emanated from them.

“Ah, so she is here?”

The demon planted their very large hands on the desk, pushing themselves up to stand at their full height. They were taller than Alastor by a good three feet, and much more muscular as well. Their nostrils flared, blowing hot air into his face.

Alastor wasn’t the slightest bit phased. (He found it funny, actually). “So may I speak to her?”

The large demon opened up their gaping jaw-

“That’s me, hi! How can I help you?” The shelf-stacking demon interrupted, getting between Alastor and the clerk demon. A nervous little lady with a wobbly unsure smile and bags under her eyes that looked like they could carry the entirety of Hell in them.

Alastor held up one of your comics- a book that has been very obviously well-read “You’re the creator of these splendid little things?”

“Splendid…?” You repeated him, trailing off into an amused snort “Er. Yeah, I wrote and drew those.” The Clerk behind you closed their mouth, setting back down on their chair and adjusting their spectacles. The glare didn’t leave Alastor.

“Well, my dear, I find I quite enjoy them! It’s quite a pleasure to meet you.” Alastor said, not paying the larger (glowering) demon any mind. He found himself wondering why you were so tired and so timid. A woman like you should be so much more cheerful! Alastor was a tad offended….Because you weren’t smiling like he did. That’s it. Really.

“Well. I’m glad you like them.” You said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You offered your hand for him to shake.

One of his ears twitched. You must be fairly new to Hell, to offer a handshake so easily. Or perhaps a bit sheltered or on the naïve side. Alastor briefly considered making a sly deal to take your soul, but… Well, there was no need for that.

He took your hand and gave it a firm shake. Your hand was so much smaller than his own, but it felt as though it warmed his entire body. This was strange. Perhaps you were casting some spells on him? Why was he finding it so hard to focus- why did he feel like he didn’t know what to say next- why-

The Clerk gripped Alastor’s arm in between two fingers, gently but assertively pulling it away from you. You took half a step back, cradling your arm to your chest as if he burned you. Alastor glared up at the Clerk “Is there a problem?”

The large demon growled. You intervened again “Er….You were just. Holding my hand for a while. It was……kind of weird.”

“Ah.” Alastor cleared his throat, straightening his posture with a flourish “My apologies! Mind was elsewhere, you know how it is with us creative types.”

You blinked. Then your timid smile turned a bit more confident. A bit more…like a smirk. “Er. Yeah, I guess so. Well. See you around, I guess?”

“If I have the time, I suppose!” Alastor grinned “Well then, I must be off! Ta-ta!”

You watched as the strange demon disappeared into shadows and slivered off. As soon as all trace of him was gone, you laughed quietly into your hand “Well, I can certainly say for certain I know someone ‘awkward as hell’ now.”

Your friend groaned, gently pushing you over as they continued their own work.

[hxzbinwrites]

Hiiii! Could I request a oneshot where Husk reunites with a gn! S/o he had back when he was alive? The reader decides to stay at the Hazbin Hotel as a way of staying protected from the rest of the sinners and overlords in hell. After Charlie introduces them to everyone, they stop at the bar for a shot and they recognize eachothers voices.

(It can be fluff or angst)

Tysm!^^✨️

Husk x Gn! Reader | Quitting |

Warnings ⚠️: Drinking, Alcohol Abuse, Cussing

(Y/n) is a mess. Just a plain mess. That’s what everyone though at least. Just a drunk weaving in and out of the next bar, blurring the lines between today and tomorrow, reality and fiction.

Groggily they drag their feet along the pavement, tired eyes desperately searching for a cheap enough bar that will still take them in. So far, no luck has been found. Most of the bars are either too expensive for someone who already blew everything they had on alcohol, or already know who they are and refuse to let them into their establishment.

And don’t even think about a place to stay. (Y/n) hasn’t been able to afford rent in years, not even a cheap motel to stay at. It’d be a blessing if somewhere that was a free stay just popped out right infront of them and just offered a place-

“HELLO!!”

“AH! WHAT THE HELL?” (Y/n) said, scowling at the cheerful face infront of them. It was Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie Morningstar. “Listen kid, don’t you know not to sneak up on folks!”

“Ah! I am so sorry!!” Charlie said, tucking her papers with drawings of rainbows made with crayon under her arm as she grabbed (Y/n)‘s hands.

“I’m here to make you an offer!” She said, smiling once more. Her cheerful demeanor was very different from (Y/n)’s deadpan expression.

“Listen kid, I don’t got much money. I find some here and there and then I blow it on booze, if you need investments, why don’t ya go to an Overlord or something, I ain’t got time for all of this.”

“Oh I don’t need any money!” Charlie said,”I need you! I’m working on a project to help rehabilitate sinners!! Help them go to Heaven!! And I’d like you to participate!”

“Why would I do that?” (Y/n) said, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you start off on an easier case or something, I just don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“You can stay there for free!-”

“Alright lets go.” (Y/n) said, taking their hands out of Charlie’s grasp before she started to crush them in a hug.

“YAY!!! ANOTHER GUEST AT THE HOTEL!!!” She squealed, making the drunk’s head throb at the loud noise.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough Princess. Lets go to this ‘hotel’ of yours.”

——————

Charlie kicked open the doors to the Hazbin Hotel, skipping in alongside (practically dragging along) the newest guest, (Y/n).

“EVERYONE!!!!” Charlie shouted,”EMERGENCY MEETING!! WE HAVE A NEW GUEST!!”

(Y/n) covered their ears, their eyes squinting in annoyance at the Princess’s very loud entrance.

Mostly everyone slowly made their way to the lobby, Vaggie being the first to enter.

“Hey. I’m Vaggie. I’m Charlie’s girlfriend. If anyone here gives you trouble, let me know, I’ll handle them.”. For someone so laid back and monotone, you really wouldn’t expect her partner to be the hyper princess who was literally jumping up and down.

(Y/n) and Vaggie conversed for a bit before Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Alastor, and Nifty entered as well.

They all talked and got to know each other before in the corner of their eye, (Y/n) caught sight of a bar. A BAR!! They quickly excused themselves and hopped behind the counter, quickly mixing a drink.

“Excuse me, who are you and what are you doing behind my counter?” A deep voice said, instantly making (Y/n) freeze in their tracks.

“Husk?” They asked, turning around expecting a familiar face only to be met with a casio themed cat.

“(Y/n)? Is that really you?”

“Husk!!” They said, reaching over the counter to give him a hug, much like the one they were internally complaining about with Charlie earlier.

“It’s good to see you old friend. How’s Hell been treatin’ ya?”

“Shitty” They replied,”since I died, I’ve been a drunk and living off the streets for a few years. Well decades now. Oh well, I’m here now!”

Husk narrowed his eyes at her,”so you’re telling me that my old drinking buddy has been living off of these dangerous streets! Hell (Y/n), I’m glad that Charlie found you. Now, move away from the counter, let me make you a drink to commemorate you quitting drinking.”

“No fair!” (Y/n) said, plopping down on the bar stool,”quitting? We all know that’s impossible. I was a drunk when I was alive, I’m a drunk now that I’m dead-“

“And you’ll become sober when you go to Heaven. I….I really care for you (Y/n), you shouldn’t stay in this shithole. Go up to those pearly gates. For me please?” He said, sliding them their favorite drink.

“Sure Husk, I’ll do it for you. But if I do it, you gotta promise to come with me right after okay? No more gambling.”

Husk sighed, closing his tired eyes,”Fine. I’ll do it for you. You better be glad though (Y/n), I wouldn’t do this for nobody except you.”

They smiled, looking into Husk’s eyes as he smiled back. They both knew that they were gonna keep their promises.

—————

Word Count: 823

(sorry it’s so short 😭)

[januaryembrs]

Bugsy and Spencer tea!!

the one with the card counting | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: Bugsy and Spence quarrel while playing Old Maid

length: 700 wds

set in the trouble almost all my life universe

“Spence, I love you, but if you try card counting in Old Maid one more time, I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the flight,” Bugsy snipped, staring down at the man over their deck of cards, his hazel eyes narrowed and concentrated as he flicked through his hand. The joker card glared down at him from the dead centre, where he’d strategically placed it so she’d be more likely to take it when her turn came, though he’d been unsuccessful so far. 

She didn’t need to see his lips to know he was chewing them in frustration, eyes darting between the pile on the table of already used hands, the rest of the deck they were picking up from, and how many cards she had in her hand. 

“I’m not, and even if I was, it’s just math,” He replied in a defensive tone, knowing she’d already caught him out as he looked up at her, the red back designs fanning over her mouth and nose, though her annoyed expression was still clear as day to him. For a guy who rarely understood what people meant until they spelled it out verbally for him, Bugsy had always just seemed to make sense in his head, “I’m not cheating,”

He said it like someone who was trying to convince himself it was true, his eyes as innocent and none threatening as they would go, though he got that little notch between his brows that said he knew exactly what he was doing and felt bad for lying to her. 

Huffing, she drew her cards to her chest and setting her elbows on the table, Hotch to her left with an amused smile drawing at his lips as he tried to catch some sleep on the way home from a case, though the sound of the two agents bickering gave him some inflight entertainment at least. 

“Oh, really?” She asked, daring him to repeat himself even though saying it the first time had been hard enough, and Spencer simply nodded with a small ‘Mhm’, “Alright, smart guy, if we’re playing it like that then I’m taking this card,” Bugsy said, pulling the ace of spades he had sitting beside the joker with a pointed look on her face, “And the reason I want this one and not the one next to it is because I know that's where you put the old maid,” 

Spencer swallowed, the tip of his nose turning a blush, as he grit his teeth together in annoyance, “I guess the joke is on you, Miss Prentiss. I don’t even have the old maid,” He said, forcing his voice not to quake, and he sounded somewhat believable, at least that’s what he thought until he saw her brow raise, and he knew he was fucked.  

“Yeah? Government names is it?” She asked again, giving him chance to fix his error, only he doubled down with a second nod, his lips pursed. Her finger shot out to point to the joker card, where she could only see the intricate pattern that matched every other in his hand, “So this isn’t the Old Maid?” 

Spencer blinked once, the two of them exchanging a heated look like they were waiting for the smallest of breaks in character, and his breathing even despite the fact it was under duress, his expression abnormally calm as the jet went entirely silent, “Yes,” 

“Bullshit,” He quickly collected his cards to his lap and scrambled to shuffle them well enough that she wouldn’t guess which one was the dead card, his scowl spreading over his face.

“You cheater, you must have seen my cards, there’s no way to count where I put the joker, that is entirely by chance-” Spencer snapped back, flipping them between his long, lithe fingers as Bugsy giggled into her hand. 

“Play nicely, boys and girls,” Rossi chided where he had his nose buried in the newspaper, only glancing up to see Spencer glaring at the girl who sat opposite him with a victorious smirk. 

“Face it, Spencer Reid. You might be good, but I’m better.” Derek bit his lip to stop himself from laughing where he was eavesdropping on their game on the seats behind them, and he thought he might have to take it to his deathbed that he and the younger girl had swapped Spencer's cards out the second he went to the bathroom. Or maybe save it for a rainy day, when he really needed leverage against the stubborn girl and let them squabble in peace. 

Bugsy didn't tell him until a year later, the week before she left for London.

[darqx]

Snakes on a post

Another particularly long answer dump since i, once again, have a backlog of things to potentially answer |D

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

Got jumpscared with my own old art for a hot minute there LAUGHS.

(For those wondering, the naga doodle from here was attached to the ask)

That is every other Royal that exists in the Nether and also at least some of the demons that challenged him for his Royal title lol.

Believe me, no one was or is more surprised then me XD;

So, the thing about where Rire's ichor manifests is that it kinda exists and doesn't exist at the same time. Meaning that his upper back is where the manifestation point is anchored, BUT it can still manifest with a bit of space in between it and his back hence why it will manifest over his clothes and not through them.

So if you touch where the manifestation point is sans the ichor, than you are just straight up touching his back. With the ichor, he still gets sensory input from the tentacles to his back but it's a lot more soft and muted esp the further away it gets from him. As you've seen implied though, he would feel a very sharp pain if a great deal of damage was done to the ichor where it clusters at the manifestation point, since he'd DEF be feeling that straight in his back lol.

He is definitely a top and the only way he would bottom for anybody is if they somehow forced him to.

Ah i knew i'd answered this a long time ago [finally found it]! Holy crosses (those that have been blessed) can also burn him but they would need to be in contact with him the entire time. Being a Royal he also has more of a tolerance to these than normal demons.

Well, unless said person actually has the undeniable ability to make good on their words, Rire would just stand there rather genially with that little smile he sometimes has and let them finish.

And then he might use them as reverse suggestions for dealing with said person (why would you give him any ideas!!?)

both

In BTD canon it is quite possible that they actually haven't in person. But we are using creative license here haha.

Rire heals a lot faster than a human. Cain is not my character so I don't know how his stacks up.

I've grouped these asks cos they kind of have similar answers - 360° (jk sorry sorry to the second q that is just a very common spelling mistake and I couldn't resist XD; )

Now, even though we mashed all the characs together in BTD, they all actually come from different storylines and so their canons outside the "BTD canon" may differ. This tends to bleed in. With this in mind:

The rules of Rire's canon (eg the concept of Battle Royales and how to become a Royal) don't apply to Cain. Anyway, they don't live in the same place either.

Cain is canonically the oldest and most OP character in BTD lol so yes he is stronger than Rire - you might've noticed, but Rire is never in the same drawing as Cain voluntarily. I play with this along with the "natural weakness" aspect - which I've also referred to as scissors-paper-rock rules XD Basically; demons beat humans, angels beat demons (purely because demons have weakness against holiness).

It would (be insane) but I hope you are not looking at me to fulfil this :d

Not really

His coronation day is a public holiday in his sector so yes XD

Aww thank you very much for your interest! ≧(´▽｀)≦ It's really cool that some of you guys want to actually fund such a thing - I'd have thought you'd have enough of him killing you in BTD1 XD Unfortunately, I have no plans for a Rire game at the moment as I'm working on a webcomic which looks like it will take up all my free time (that being said, he will be in the webcomic at some point).

Nope! Although i can kinda see why you might think that lol.

Whatever that one is where he doesn't particularly care what someone else identifies as. It really makes no difference to him or how he will act.

There are viruses in the Nether that if contracted could potentially kill you, yes. Part of being a Royal is becoming a lot more robust than normal Demons though. As for if/when Rire dies, I dunno maybe either in a Battle Royale somewhere thousands of years down the line or by old age (which is rare for a Royal but not impossible if you play your cards right).

If you are asking if he has a heat/rut of some sort, he does not |D

[radioisntdead]

Hey! I really liked your headcanon about Alastor. It’s got my imagination running wild >_< What do you think about a romantic! Oneshot with Alastor where everyone can see the results of the biting game on both us and Alastor (assuming we both break skin and leave marks). I’m not sure how Alastor would be caught without his coat on, much less with with short sleeves… maybe a spilled drink on a hot day. But I keep imagining this scenario:

Angel: Asks Alastor if he had a rough night after seeing his arms covered in bites (assuming rough sexy time)

Alastor: Responds yes (remembering how he got cornered and couldn’t get away because using his shadows to escape is against the rules of the game)

Angel: :O

Good evening my dear! Thank you so much for requesting this I had so much fun writing it and I'm so glad you liked my Alastor biting headcanons!

And because I positively adore and I am mildly obsessed with deers I think that's why I like Alastor so much? The reader has deer attributes like Alastor Specifically whitetail deers because apparently they can jump eight feet in the air! And the reader jumps a bunch, reader is refered to as Prancer by Angel, I'm not gonna lie I had no idea how to end it so the ending is rushed! and everything is a tad bit messy, my apologies, Full italics is a mini flashback

Warnings!!

Biting, the drawing out of blood, the reader's blood is a vibrant pink for fun! Angel dust alluding to sexual acts, Still getting used to writing Alastor so once again leaning into fanon and possibly some OOC behaviors.

not proofread because I don't have a beta reader, Enjoy!

The two of you hadn't meant to get so carried away, it started out peacefully enough, you and Alastor were just laying on couch he had in his radio tower, it was later in the night, you suppose it was just past midnight,

He was looking over papers with whatever radio nonsense on them for tomorrow's broadcast, and you were peacefully reading a book with your head on his shoulder, with soft jazz playing in the background, your jackets were hung neatly on the coat rack, a warm cup of coffee and a nice soothing [Drink of your choice] sat on the desk.

It was treasured peaceful moment, until your beloved strawberry-flavored Bambi decided to ruin it by picking up your arm and biting into it like it was beef jerky and looking like someone had shot him with a tranquilizer dart,

You sat up quickly, your arm still in his grasp, eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away from your arm, licking away the escaping blood like the little cannibalistic freak he is

"Alastor, My darling dear, why are you like this?"

You ask with an exasperated tone as your dearly beloved just kept a smug grin on his face and patted the sides of his mouth with a handkerchief he had gotten from hell knows where,

Sitting up, you blink slowly before immediately pouncing at the Radio demon, your own sharp teeth bared and ready to bite only for your beloved deer to move out of the way and quickly moving behind you as you fall face first into where Alastor once sat,

"Ah, you have to be quicker then that my dear!"

He said with a laugh before turning around to grab his coat, clearly not expecting you to stand up on his couch like a uncivilized heathen and jump on him managing to knock him off his feet? Hooves? Whatever he has and sink your teeth into his exposed neck.

And so the game begun with the both of you biting each other.

Unfortunately this little game of yours comes with consequences and what are those consequences?

Well for starters Alastor's coat was now stained with noticable pink blood [From you of course who else!]

Bite marks littered his arms from your chompin' down, not to mention you had bitten his neck! scandalous behavior!

You weren't much better with bite marks though not only on both of your arms but shoulders, and hands, hell he almost bit your face and he would've if you didn't headbutt him!

You had grabbed his coat along with a few other articles of blood covered clothing you gently folded and placed them in a bag to take over to the drycleaners, honestly you could probably get the blood stains out with cold water but neither you nor Alastor had time for that and while you adored Niffty you did NOT trust her with washing some of the articles of clothing that you had, so the drycleaners it was!

Alastor was up in his radio tower doing a broadcast while Everyone else was scattered through the hotel, notably Angel dust and Husk were chatting about something at the bar as you walked by it you gave them a quick wave.

"Good afternoon you two! I'm heading to the drycleaners if anyone asks."

You said as you quickly made your way past the duo, making a swift plot convenient exit.

Angel dust raised an eyebrow as he briefly caught the sight of teeth marks on your wrist from the exposed hem of your sweater.

"Eh, didn't think they had it in em' to do anything beyond handholding"

"They don't, Probably they probably bit by that fucked up creature of theirs."

Husk said sliding a glass over to Angel who shrugged before downing whatever liquid was in the glass.

Alastor had entered the bar area, after a couple of minutes later, wearing a red button up and vest, the same colors as his normal attire, he had rolled up his sleeves during the broadcast and unfortunately forgot to unroll them to cover the bite marks on his arms,

He missed his usual attire but unfortunately it was gone with you for the foreseeable future.

"Oo, Rough night freaky face?''

Angel dust joked wiggling his eyebrows as he swirled whatever alcoholic drink Husk had provided him while Husk shook his head while wiping a glass.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that."

Alastor said his smile tightening as he recalled you cornering him in the Bayou in your shared room, Alastor wasn't the type to run away typically, even less the type to give up easily even to his beloved spouse,

unfortunately for him though,

The little game of yours had some rules, such as no leaving any marks on facial areas, No tearing off any chunks of flesh {Gonna love having a spouse with cannibalistic tendencies}, and No using any type of power the two of you had, which means good ol' Alastor couldn't use his funky lil' shadows

And that made him more vulnerable to his deranged spouse's tackling strategy.

"Alastor get out of the tree,"

"No."

You had no idea how you ended up chasing your spouse into a tree, you don't know how he even got INTO the tree, but he sat upon it kicking his legs back and forth like a gleeful child, staring down at you, for someone who's a deer he's oddly cat like,

You sighed turning around and walking away as your beloved laughed in taunting tone

"Running off so soon dearest? And here I thought you- aCK"

Alastor was cut off by you running back, hurling yourself off the ground and tackling him like a feral flying squirrel onto the ground.

Blinking away at the memory Alastor returned his focus to Angel dust's gobsmacked expression that turned into a grin as he laughed while Husk moved further into the bar shaking his head.

"I was jokin' around, but sounds like you and prancer actually got freaky!''

"Pardon me, we w̸̧̢͉̦̟̭̪͕̉͘ḩ̷̛̛̤̬͖̿͆̈́͘â̸͔͔̣̊̿ẗ̴̖̦̆̔͛̿̎̾̆̚͠?"

Thank you for tuning in folks! My apologies for the messy one shot, but I have a Vox x reader that's almost done that's more put together, and a more put together Alastor fic, Anyways I hope you all have a wonderful day!

[cosmicaura7]

AITA SERIES

Pairings : pedro pascal characters x reader

Genre : f/m, sexual implications, controversial topics, taboo topics, use of R to refer to reader, 

Synopsis : So Reddit, Am I the Asshole…?

Clint Flood (Freaky Tales)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for being in love with my boyfriend’s dad?

I know how this sounds. I’m not proud of it. But I also can’t stop thinking about it, so here I am.

I (26F) have been dating J (28M) for almost a year now. He’s a good guy, steady, kind and a little boring but safe. The kind of guy you’re supposed to want to marry. The kind your mom would approve of.

Then there’s his dad. C (mid-50s). A little rough around the edges. Quiet, tall and intense. He’s got these piercing eyes that feel like they can see right through you and this whole ex-military and no-bullshit vibe that makes the air change when he walks into a room.

The first time I met him, I already felt something. But I ignored it, pushed it down. But it’s gotten worse. Every time I visit their family cabin, every time we sit across from each other at dinner, I feel his gaze linger just a little too long. I catch him watching me when he thinks I won’t notice. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look right back. It’s not just lust, either. He actually sees me, listens to me in a way his son never really does. He remembers the small things I say, and even notices when I change my hair. Once, when I was quietly crying in the hallway during a family weekend (long story), he was the one who came out and handed me a glass of water without a word.

I feel so drawn to him. And I know how messed up that is, I’m dating his son after all. There’s no world where this ends well. I haven’t cheated. I haven’t done anything beyond maybe letting my imagination wander and entertaining a few dreams I’ll never admit out loud. But lately, when I’m with J, I just feel off. Like I’m pretending. Like I’m waiting for someone else to walk into the room. Someone who makes my skin burn with just a glance.

So Reddit… AITA for staying in a relationship when my heart might be somewhere else? Am I horrible for wanting a man I can’t have? Or is this just a passing obsession I need to bury deeper?

Dave York (The Equalizer 2)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not acting on feelings for my kids’ babysitter even though she clearly wants me to?

Okay Reddit, I know how this sounds, but hear me out before you jump to “creep” in the comments.

I (41M) am a divorced dad of two daughters, A (10) and M (7). They’re my world. Been raising them mostly solo for the past three years since the split and it hasn’t been easy. Between work, school pickups and dance recitals, I needed help. Enter her (let’s call her R, 26F), the babysitter I hired after a friend’s recommendation.

She’s absolutely incredible. Responsible, patient, smart, funny and grounded. Everything you’d want in a woman. My girls adore her. They draw her pictures, ask for her when they’re sick, even slip up and call her “Mom” sometimes. I figured that would make things easier, someone stable in their lives.

What I didn’t expect was me being the unstable one. Because the problem is, she’s also gorgeous. Like, unfairly so. And lately, I can’t tell if I’m imagining things or if she’s trying to test me. The casual touches, the way she lingers in the kitchen when I come home, the soft voice when she tells me I look tired and should get more sleep, the ridiculously tight tank tops, the lip gloss and the way she looks at me when she doesn’t think I notice.

Part of me, a big part, wants to give in. I’m a man, I’m not oblivious to it. But the other part? The one that tucks my daughters in at night? That part is scared shitless. What if I misread everything? What if this ruins the bond she has with my girls? What if they lose someone they love because their dad couldn’t keep it in his pants?

She’s never said anything outright, never crossed a clear line. But I can feel the tension and I can feel myself getting closer to breaking every day. I want her so badly but I also want what’s best for my kids. I just don’t know if those two things can exist at the same time.

So Reddit… AITA for keeping her at arm’s length when all I want to do is pull her closer?

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for falling in love with my fake PR girlfriend and not knowing if she actually likes me or is just a better actor than I am?

Okay. Buckle up, internet strangers because I’m spiraling.

I (early 40s M, actor, you’ve probably seen me snort a line or die dramatically in something) was recently paired up with another actor (let’s call her R, 30s F, wildly talented, unfairly hot and intimidatingly cool) to star in this big dramatic slow-burn romance film. Think tortured artists, rainy kisses and completely Oscar bait.

To sell it? The studios and our agents cooked up this genius idea, let’s fake date. Hold hands at events, post blurry selfies on Instagram, give flirty interviews. You know, classic “no, we’re just good friends… wink” PR bait. At first, I laughed. I’ve done this crap before. All the camera flashes, fake kisses, casually mentioning her in interviews, rinse and repeat.

Except it stopped feeling fake. I stopped feeling fake. Somewhere between the shared hotel rooms, the quiet after-parties, the little glances during press junkets, I fell for her. Fully, horrifically and irrevocably. The kind of fall that makes your chest hurt and your ego scream. The worst part? I have no clue if she feels the same. She’s good, man. Oscar-nominee good. She leans into my arm like she means it. Laughs at my dumb jokes like they’re brilliant. Once she looked at me after a long day of shooting and said, “Sometimes I forget this isn’t real.” and I swear to god my soul left my body.

But then the next morning she’ll be cold again. Professional and distant. Like I dreamed the whole thing. Like it’s all just lines from a script I don’t have a copy of. Now I’m sitting here, fully in love with the woman I’m supposed to be pretending to love and I don’t know if I should say anything. What if I ruin everything? What if she is just pretending? What if I’m just another role she nails while I’m over here method acting heartbreak?

So Reddit… AITA for catching real feelings during a fake relationship? Or just an idiot with a crush and no chill?

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not following through with a hit because I fell in love with the target?

Yeah. That title’s a mess. So’s the situation.

I (40M) work in a niche line of work. Let’s just say I solve problems that require extreme discretion and no paper trail. You hire me and the problem disappears. Clean and quiet within a blink of an eye.

A few months ago, I got a high-paying job from a rich smug prick who wanted his ex-wife taken care of. No explanation, just names, photos and a price I couldn’t ignore. I’ve done worse for less so I took it. Her name is R (36F). First time I saw her, she was sitting outside a little bookstore she owns, sipping coffee, talking to some neighborhood kid like she wasn’t marked for death. I kept my distance. Observed and waited for the right time.

Only it never came.

The more I watched, the harder it became to see her as a target. She volunteers at shelters. Leaves snacks out for delivery drivers. She sings in her car when she thinks no one’s watching. She’s light and warm. The kind of woman you protect, not eliminate.

I told myself I was just gathering intel but days turned to weeks. I started memorizing her routines. I learned the way she laughs when she texts her sister, the exact brand of tea she drinks, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous. Somewhere along the way, the job stopped being a job. I never made contact, never said a word. But I started feeling and now I’m in too deep. I backed out of the job quietly. Told the client it was unworkable, returned the deposit. He wasn’t happy but I’d rather deal with him than live with the thought of hurting her.

Problem is, I still want her. And I’ve imagined going up to her. Introducing myself as just a guy who walked into her in a random shop. Letting her fall for me without knowing who I really am. But that feels like a lie. I’ve already lied by omission.

So Reddit… AITA for falling for her while stalking her? For not telling her the truth even though every part of me wants to protect her now? Or would telling her everything be the most selfish thing I could do?

Ezra (The Prospect)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for secretly dating my best friend’s brother even though she explicitly told me not to?

So I (F, 27) have been best friends with this girl since we were 7. We grew up together, sleepovers, secrets, teenage rebellion, the whole deal. She’s like a sister to me and we’ve been through everything.

Which means I also grew up around E (M, 34), her older brother. E was the charming, sarcastic, effortlessly cool older brother who’d tease us when we were kids, drive us around when we were teens, and smirk at me in that infuriating way that made me blush harder than I’d like to admit. We always had this… thing. Flirty comments, lingering looks, stupid jokes that only made sense to us. But I never acted on it. My best friend made it very clear and very early on that E was off limits. “It’d be weird.” She said, “Gross. I don’t want my bestie being near my brother like that

Fast forward to last year. I ran into E at a party she dragged me to and it was different. The flirting was heavier. The air was tense. He looked at me like he really saw me. One thing led to another, and… yeah. We started secretly dating. At first, it was light, late-night texting, stolen moments, private dinners. But it grew deeper. He’s thoughtful, steady, makes me laugh and makes me feel safe. He listens. We talk about everything. I think I’ve loved him longer than I’ve even known what love was.

We’ve been together for 5 months now. My best friend doesn’t know. I’ve lied to her face more times than I can count and I hate it. Every time E and I sneak around, a part of me dies a little because I know how betrayed she’ll feel if (when) she finds out.

But here’s the thing, it’s not some casual fling. We’re in love. I want to tell her. We both do. We just don’t know how without blowing up twenty years of friendship. And I can’t stop asking myself, do I owe her that level of loyalty? Or am I allowed to be happy even if it’s messy?

So Reddit… AITA for going behind my best friend’s back and dating her brother, the one person she begged me not to fall for?

Francisco Morales (Triple Frontier)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to ask out a woman who used to sleep with my best friend (even though I’ve liked her for years)?

Yeah, I know how this sounds. Buckle up.

I (38M) have this friend, let’s call him Pope, who I’ve known forever. We’ve been through the shit together. The kind of friendship where you’d kill for the guy, no questions asked.

A few years ago, he was hooking up with this woman (let’s call her R, 30F). Nothing serious. Just casual, no-strings. He made that clear to all of us. And she seemed fine with it. They’d hook up after drinks or late nights but it fizzled out naturally. No drama. No breakup. Just life moving on.

Thing is that I liked her, always liked her. Since day one. She’s smart, hilarious, can handle a room full of testosterone like it’s nothing and has this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re the only guy in the world. I kept my distance out of respect. You don’t move in on your best friend’s girl even if she was never really his girl. But now, years later, I still haven’t stopped thinking about her. We still talk and hang out sometimes. There’s a spark there, I swear. But I haven’t said a damn thing. Partly because I’m a coward, partly because I don’t want to blow up my friendship with Pope.

I asked him once, hypothetically, how he’d feel if someone dated a girl he’d just “hooked up with.” He shrugged and said, “If it was just a hook-up, I wouldn’t give a shit.” But I don’t know if he actually meant it. And I don’t know if it’s different when it’s one of us, tight-knit, military bond and all.

So Reddit… AITA if I ask her out? Am I a bad friend for wanting a chance with the woman he technically had first, even if it was casual and years ago? Or should I just shut my mouth and keep pretending I don’t care?

Harry Castillo (The Materialists)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to financially support my assistant in a way that might make me her sugar daddy?

Throwaway because, well, obviously.

I (42M) run several successful business firms and have a phenomenal assistant (26F). Let’s call her R. She’s sharp, competent, endlessly patient with my disorganization and frankly the reason this whole damn office runs at all.

Here’s the thing, I’ve noticed she’s been struggling lately. She’s skipping meals, avoiding turning on the office heat even when she’s freezing. I caught her patching a hole in her shoe with tape. She’s proud and never complains, but it’s obvious she’s barely staying afloat. I pay her more than what she deserves for her position but I know life’s expensive, especially in Manhattan. I also know she’s got student loans and takes care of her family. And I hate seeing her like this, it’s been eating at me.

So here’s where I might be the asshole, I’ve been toying with the idea of offering her help. Not a raise (I already gave her one recently). Not a loan (she’d never accept). More like a “no strings attached” arrangement where I’d take care of her rent, groceries or whatever she needs, if she lets me. Yes, I know how that sounds. I’m not trying to be a creep. I’m not expecting anything in return, no paying back, no sexual favors. But there’s no way to make this offer without it sounding like I want to be her sugar daddy.

Truth is… I wouldn’t hate that idea if she was open to something more. She’s beautiful and smart. The kind of woman I’d fall for in another life. But that’s not what this is about. I just want to take care of her and make sure she’s okay. If there’s anything more deserving in living the lavish life, it’s definitely her. 

So Reddit… AITA for even thinking about offering something like that? And if not, how the hell do I go about it without sounding like an old pervert?

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels (Kingsman)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for being cold to a woman at work because she reminds me of my dead wife?

I (late 40s, M) work in a high-risk field, let’s just call it federal-level security with a cowboy hat on top. I’m used to staying sharp and staying detached. I’ve had to be, ever since I lost my wife ten years ago. She was my everything. Sweet, sharp-tongued and tough as nails under lace. When she died… I buried my heart with her.

Then came her.

Let’s call her R (mid-30s, F). She’s the new secretary at our organization. Handles the logistics, the schedules, the background noise of our chaos. Always has a coffee in hand, always humming something, always looking at the world like it still deserves to be forgiven. The first time I saw her, I froze. She didn’t look exactly like my wife, not quite, but she moved like her, laughed like her and smiled with that same little tilt that used to undo me in an instant. And ever since then, I’ve treated her like she’s done something wrong just by walking into the damn room.

I’m short and dismissive with her, sometimes even rude. I pretend not to hear her when she says good morning. Once or twice, I’ve even corrected her harshly in front of others for mistakes she didn’t make. I know I’m being cruel. She hasn’t done a damn thing to deserve it. But every time she opens her mouth, I hear a ghost. Thing is, she’s never pushed back. She just looks at me with this confused kind of hurt, like she doesn’t understand what she did wrong and the truth is, she didn’t, never did. I did. I’m the one turning grief into anger. I’m the one who never dealt with losing the woman I loved and now I’m taking it out on someone who’s just being kind.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about apologizing, about telling her the truth. But I’m afraid if I let her in, I’ll start feeling again. And I don’t know if I’ve got the strength to lose someone twice.

So Reddit… AITA for being a jackass to someone just because she reminds me of someone I lost? Or is this just the only way I know how to cope?

Javi Guttierez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for kissing my assistant and confessing my feelings, only for her to completely ignore it the next day?

This might be a mess so bear with me.

I (M, 33) am a scriptwriter and producer. I’ve worked my way up in this business and I take it seriously. One of the smartest things I ever did was hire her, my assistant (F, 28). Let’s call her R. She’s incredible. Organized, sharp, cool under pressure, has this dry humor that makes me laugh at the worst times and somehow remembers every detail about everyone I ever meet. She makes me better. She makes the job look easy.

And I’ve been in love with her for almost two years.

I know it’s unprofessional. I kept it quiet, never crossed a line, not even a toe near one. Because she deserves respect and I’d rather suffer in silence than make her uncomfortable or jeopardize her career.

But it’s been getting harder lately, especially at industry parties. She turns heads when she walks into a room. Every actor, every big name, they all want a piece of her. And I just stand there, pretending I don’t care. Pretending I’m not dying inside when they make her laugh, when they ask for her number, when she says, “I’m working” and looks away.

Then came this gala. One too many champagne flutes. One too many guys trying to corner her. She looked uncomfortable, kept glancing at me across the room. And something in me snapped. I pulled her away from the crowd, took her to the balcony, and without thinking, I kissed her. Then I told her everything. That I’ve liked her since week one. That I think about her all the time. That it kills me to watch her with anyone else.

And she just ran. Didn’t say a word. Just turned and walked away.

Next morning? It was like it never happened. She showed up, clipboard in hand, rattling off schedules, looking me dead in the eye like she hadn’t fled from my lips ten hours prior. I’ve tried talking to her. I’ve begged for just five minutes of her time. She dodges me, changes subjects, acts like everything is normal, and it’s driving me insane. I feel like I crossed a boundary. But also, I was honest. I never forced anything. I just said how I felt.

So Reddit… AITA for kissing my assistant and confessing my feelings after years of silence, even if now she won’t speak to me?

Javier Peña (Narcos)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for constantly rejecting my coworker’s advances even though I’m actually in love with him?

This is going to sound like I’m the world’s biggest idiot, but here goes.

I (29F) work for the government. It's a hard, high-stress job and there’s not a lot of room for vulnerability or, y’know, romance. Which sucks because I’ve been half in love with my colleague, let’s call him J, since the day I met him.

He’s everything you’d want in a man. Confident, charming and dangerous in that bad boy way. He walks into a room and women stare. He talks and people listen. He flirts like it’s breathing. And yeah, he’s got a reputation. Everyone knows he’s been around, probably the most sexually experienced man I’ve ever met.

Me? I’ve never even had sex. Not religious, not traumatized, it just never happened for me. I’ve always been shy and easily intimidated. I was the "shy bunny" in the academy, not the one guys chased after. And when J started flirting with me, like really flirting, I froze.

It’s not like I’m not interested, I am. But every time he makes a move, I panic, I dodge, I pretend that I’m too busy or brush him off with a joke. Because the thought of actually being with him, of taking off my clothes in front of a man like that, makes me want to crawl into a hole. I’m scared I’ll disappoint him. That I’ll be awkward or inexperienced or just not enough. And then I’ll ruin the one good relationship I have on this damn job. He still flirts, still checks in. But I can feel the distance growing. I think he’s starting to think I’m not into him. Or worse, that I’m playing games. I’m not. I just don’t know how to tell him why I keep backing off.

So Reddit… AITA for rejecting him over and over while secretly being in love with him? Should I be honest and risk everything? Or just keep my mouth shut and let him move on to someone who won’t choke up the second he touches her?

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for having feelings for my dad’s best friend, who basically helped raise me?

Okay, so this is going to sound real bad on paper, but hear me out.

I (26F) have known this man, J, since I was a kid. He’s my dad’s best friend, a grumpy rugged Texan who’s been around for every milestone in my life. School plays, birthdays, college move-in day, you name it, J was always there, usually fixing something or standing off to the side with a cup of coffee and his permanent scowl.

Here’s the thing, somewhere in the last year or two, I started not seeing J as just “Dad’s friend.” Like, I’ll walk into the kitchen in my pajamas and he’s fixing the sink with his sleeves rolled up, arms flexing and suddenly I’m thinking things I should probably be arrested for. It’s not just physical. He listens to me, respects me and treats me like a grown woman, not a little girl.

A few nights ago, he stayed over after helping Dad rebuild the deck. I poured him a whiskey after Dad went to bed and we talked for hours. At one point, he brushed my hand and didn’t pull away right away. It was small but it felt like something shifted. Here’s the kicker, I want something to happen. I want him but I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet because 1.) he’s my dad’s best friend, 2.) he’s literally 20+ years older than me, and 3.) I know if my dad ever found out, it’d destroy their friendship.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to sleep with the man who basically helped raise me? I haven’t acted on it yet, but I want to desperately. Am I a terrible person for thinking so?

Marcus Acacius (Gladiator II)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for secretly dating my professor after we hooked up, even though I was the one who pursued him first?

Throwaway for obvious reasons. This is messy and I know it.

So I (22F) am a senior in college, finishing my degree in classical studies. For the past year, I’ve been taking a Roman history seminar taught by Professor M (M, late 30s?). He’s brilliant, sharp-tongued, a little intimidating and, honestly, incredibly attractive in that cold, untouchable kind of way. I’ve had a crush on him since day one.

He’s very professional, like textbook boundary-keeper. Never gave me special treatment, never even hinted at anything, even though I was top of his class and probably tried way too hard to impress him. I figured it would stay one-sided forever. Until a few weeks ago, I went to a bar near campus with friends. And who do I run into? Him. Out of the suit, out of the lecture hall, totally relaxed. He buys me a drink. We talk, like, really talk. He’s charming, funny and flirty. I was shocked. One thing led to another and I ended up at his apartment. We slept together. It was intense, passionate and everything I’d secretly fantasize about.

We talked the next morning. He made it very clear that he hadn’t planned it, that it was wrong in theory, but neither of us wanted to stop. So we kept seeing each otherecretly. Always professional on campus. No PDA. No weird behavior in class. It’s all strictly off the clock.

And honestly? I’m happy. I care about him. I think he cares about me too. But lately, some classmates have started joking that he favors me, not knowing anything is happening, and it’s making me feel paranoid. I’m terrified of ruining his reputation, of jeopardizing his career or mine. 

So Reddit… AITA for crossing that line with him? Or are we just two adults trying to be careful about something real in a setting that doesn’t make room for it?

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for feeling blindsided that my neighbor, who babysits my daughter and I might be falling for, has a kid I didn’t know about?

Hey Reddit, this might sound like a midlife crisis-in-the-making but I really need some outside perspective.

I (M, 39) am a single dad. My daughter, also M (F, 8), is the best part of my life. I work a demanding job, and for the past year or so, my neighbor (F, 35), let’s call her R, has been babysitting M when I’m away. She’s kind, dependable and just gets my daughter in a way that instantly puts me at ease.

More than that, she gets me. We’ve grown close. Coffee on porches. Passing each other in the hall. Sometimes we talk until midnight over paper takeout boxes and M’s school projects. I always chalked it up to neighborly chemistry, nothing more. But lately, I’ve caught myself looking at her differently, wondering if maybe, just maybe, she might feel the same. My daughter doesn’t help. Every other night it’s, “Daddy, she has a crush on you.” Or “I think she’d be a great mom someday, like, to me.” Kids, right?

I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I figured if she felt something, she’d say something or maybe I’d grow the courage to bring it up myself. But then, this weekend, a car pulls up in her driveway. I look out the window and I see a man step out, not threatening, just there. And then a little boy hops out of the back seat and runs into R’s arms.

My heart dropped. Turns out she has a kid, a son. From a previous marriage, she’s divorced. None of this was ever mentioned in all our conversations and now I feel off? Confused. A little betrayed? I know that sounds unfair, she’s not obligated to tell me her life story. But after all these quiet, close nights and tender moments and hearing from my daughter that she might have feelings for me, why didn’t she ever tell me about her son? I haven’t said anything. I don’t want to make her feel guilty. She still babysits my daughter. But I can’t stop replaying it all. Did she keep it from me on purpose? Was I just a fool for thinking we had something? Or am I just overwhelmed because I wanted her to be part of our little family and didn’t realize she already had one of her own?

So Reddit… AITA for feeling a little heartbroken and distant after finding out my neighbor has a son she never told me about?

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not telling my best friend that I’m secretly dating the man she just asked me to help her get with?

I (F, 30s) have been dating a coworker of mine, let’s call him M (late 30s, thoughtful, charming, ridiculously handsome) for over three years. We met working in the same department (federal law enforcement, so discretion is basically part of the uniform), and from the start, we kept it quiet. No PDA at work, no romantic texts on company phones, nothing that could put us under scrutiny. It was just easier that way, completely private and ours.

Fast-forward to now, we’ve built a whole life together in the shadows. We take trips, spend weekends at each other’s apartments, and talk about buying a house someday. The real deal.

Here’s the problem, my best friend, who also works in our agency, pulled me aside a few days ago and told me she has a huge crush on M. She said she’s had a thing for him for months but didn’t know how to approach it. And then she asked if I could help set her up with him, talk her up, ease her in, “put in a good word.” She has no idea I’m with him. We’ve never told anyone. And the worst part? She was genuinely excited when she told me, like school girl giddy level. She said, “I really think he could be the one.”

Now I feel sick. I didn’t know what to say. I kind of froze, gave a weird laugh and changed the subject. But now she keeps asking about it. And I feel like I’m betraying both of them, M, by not protecting our relationship and her, by hiding something huge.

M says we can go public. That he’s fine with it if I am but then what? I tell her I’ve been with the guy she’s secretly pining over for years and just didn’t say anything? Won’t she feel humiliated? Betrayed? I’m terrified it’ll destroy our friendship.

So Reddit… AITA for not telling my best friend I’m already with the guy she wants? And if not, what the hell do I do now?

Max Philips (Bloodsucking Bastards)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to quit because my boss won’t turn me into a vampire even though I’m literally the top performer?

I (24F) started an internship at a mid-size sales company a few months ago. I was just trying to get some experience and a paycheck. I didn’t expect, you know, vampires to be a part of that experience.

The office rumor (that everyone knows is true) is that M (mid-30s? ageless? hot in a soul-sucking Wall Street vampire sort of way) is the boss who handpicks the best employees to “promote” aka turn them into vampires. It’s a reward. Eternal life, endless energy, better insurance and apparently a coffee tolerance that doesn’t make your hands shake. Thing is, I’ve crushed the sales board for three months straight. Like, no competition. The next closest guy is 42 calls behind and cries during lunch. I stayed up late. I meet quotas no one else touches. My neck is basically exposed at this point, figuratively and literally.

And yet nothing. No shadowy invite. No creepy-but-glamorous “let’s talk in my office with the lights off.” M just gives me these weird once-overs in the elevator and says things like, “Good work, kid,” like I’m still in high school. Meanwhile, last month’s top performer (D, who sells like he’s reading from a cereal box) got “promoted” after one good week.

I tried asking. M just smiled, that smug fanged GQ smile and said, “It’s not just about the numbers.” Which… okay? What is it about then? Charm? Blood type? Being less annoying during meetings? Now I’m spiraling. Like am I not vampire material? Am I too ambitious? Not attractive enough? Too human? Every day I walk past the break room and see the cool undead crowd sipping their crimson smoothies and laughing at inside jokes about graveyards and their never ending orgies, and I feel like the nerd no one wants at the slumber party.

I’m starting to hate him. Not just because he won’t bite me but because I wanted it. I earned it. And now I’m stuck here, mortal, exhausted and drinking stale coffee while wondering if I’m not enough.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to quit my job because my boss won’t make me a vampire? Or am I just taking professional rejection way too personally?

Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to ask out my son’s teacher even though I’m afraid of messing up his life again?

So, I (M, early 40s) am a single dad to the best kid on the planet, A (9M). Sweet, brilliant and too good for me honestly. His mom and I split a few years ago and I’ve been doing the whole daddy CEO redemption arc thing ever since. Trying to be a good man. Trying to keep the chaos in check. Trying not to completely screw this kid up.

Enter her. My son’s teacher. Let’s call her R (30s F). She’s sunshine in human form. Whip-smart, patient and warm. She talks to A like he’s the most important person in the room, and hell, she talks to me like I’m not just a walking Wall Street headline. I’ve been smitten since parent-teacher night. Every time I drop A off or pick him up, I try to be charming, likeable, funny, confident. You know, my usual moves.

And I fail miserably. Every. Single. Time.

She doesn’t laugh at my stupid money jokes, she gives me this look when I bring her overpriced coffee like she knows I googled “gifts teachers love.” Once, I tried to compliment her and said, “You’re doing really admirable work wrangling a room full of small people.” I sounded like I was describing a livestock auction. Still, she smiles. She’s kind and I think, maybe, she likes me back? Or at least doesn’t hate me. Which, for me, is progress.

Here’s the problem, I’ve been thinking about asking her out. Just coffee, something simple. But I keep stopping myself because of A. He adores her. I mean, glows when he talks about her. I don’t want to confuse him. I don’t want him to feel weird if she becomes something more to me than “Ms. R.”

But lately, he’s been drawing pictures of the three of us. Me, him and her. He says stuff like, “Ms. R would make a good mom.” Or, “Ms. R always makes me feel safe.” And I can’t help but wonder, is he already hoping for something more?

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to ask out my son’s teacher even if it risks changing something sacred in his life? Or should I just keep pretending this isn’t killing me a little more every time I see her?

Lucien De Leon (The Uninvited)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not being able to look at my best friend the same after I saw her camming and moaning my name?

Yeah. I know how that sounds. But please let me explain before you judge.

I (M, 29) have been best friends with R (F, 28) since we were kids. Grew up in the same neighborhood, went through awkward teen years together, cried on each other’s shoulders during breakups, shared popcorn during horror movie marathons, the whole “platonic soulmates” deal. Everyone always assumed we’d end up together but we never crossed the line. Mostly because I never had the guts.

Truth is, I’ve been in love with her since high school. She’s funny, brilliant, completely unfiltered and has this laugh that makes me feel like everything’s okay. I never told her because I didn’t want to lose what we had.

Then last week, I was up late, bored, scrolling whatever and I ended up on a cam site. Just clicking around, not expecting anything.

And there she was.

On camera. 

In the most sinful lingerie I’ve ever seen and looking gorgeous as ever. And at first I froze. I thought, “No way. That can’t be her.” But it was 100% her. The mole on her hip, the way she chews her lip when nervous, her voice. 

And then she moaned my name. Not in passing. Not like in a roleplay type of way. My actual real name. I exited so fast I nearly dropped my phone. I haven’t told her. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop picturing it. Her, saying my name, like that. And now every time we hang out, it’s like a war in my head, part of me still wanting to protect her, the other part completely wrecked by desire and curiosity. I feel like I’ve violated something, even though she’s the one streaming it publicly. I feel like a creep but also kind of hopeful? Like maybe she feels something for me, too? I don’t know what to do. I can’t unsee it and I don’t know if I should talk to her, confess, or bury it forever.

So Reddit… AITA for not being able to treat my best friend the same now that I’ve seen her in that way, even if she doesn’t know I know?

Oberyn Martell (Game of Throne)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for falling in love with the enemy and not telling her I originally used her to get revenge on her family?

I (41M) come from a family with blood in the streets and revenge in its bones. We’ve been at war with another family, let’s call them the Ls, for decades. The kind of feud where you don’t just destroy businesses, you burn bloodlines.

A while back, I met her. Let’s call her R (32F) and is the youngest from that said family. She walked into a neutral club downtown like she owned it, and every man in the room turned to look. So did I. At first, I saw an opportunity. I’m not proud of it but I’ll be honest, I wanted to get close to her to hurt her family. Seduce her. Use her. Break her heart. Maybe learn a few secrets along the way. That was the plan.

Except, it didn’t go that way.

She didn’t fall easily. She’s not some porcelain princess. She challenged me, even mocked me. Didn’t take any of my shit. And somehow, in all that fire and venom, I started wanting her. Not as a pawn. As a person. As mine. We've been seeing each other in secret for almost a year now. Behind closed doors, it’s real. It’s not a game. I bring her flowers. She brings me peace. She’s the only one who touches me like I’m a man, not a monster. And gods help me, I think I’d burn down my whole empire just to keep her safe.

But I haven’t told her the truth. That I used her at first. That I lied when I said I just "ran into her." That I walked into her life with a knife hidden behind my back and only dropped it once I realized I didn’t want to hurt her, I wanted to keep her. Now I’m stuck. If I tell her the truth, I risk losing her forever. If I don’t, I’m living a lie. Every time I touch her, I wonder if she’d still look at me the same if she knew what I was when this started.

So Reddit… AITA for not telling her? For falling in love with the one woman I was supposed to destroy?

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to say yes when my boss’s daughter asked me to get her pregnant to avoid sleeping with her fiancé?

I know how that title sounds. Believe me, I’ve lost sleep over it.

I (late 30s M), am an ex-military, currently working in private security. I was hired by a very rich, very controlling man to be his daughter’s bodyguard. Let’s call her R (mid-20s, beautiful, clever, and way too good for this world or for me).

R’s family is old-money, traditional and practically treats her like a business asset. A few months ago, they arranged for her to marry some stiff in a suit who’s more in love with her father’s power than with her. She doesn't love him, she’s made that clear. And now her family is pushing for kids. Like, very soon. Like, contracts signed and wedding night kind of pressure.

I’ve seen the way she looks after long meetings. Like she’s drowning. I’ve heard her cry in her room when she thinks no one’s listening. But I didn’t expect what she asked me. She pulled me aside yesterday. Calm, serious and no games. She said she couldn’t go through with letting a stranger own her body. That if she had to have a child, she wanted to choose the father. Someone she trusted. Someone she felt safe with. Someone like me. She said she wouldn’t expect anything else. No strings. No relationship. Just this one thing. And god help me, I want to say yes.

Because I’ve been falling for her since day one. Quietly. From the shadows. I was hired to protect her, not touch her, but every time I see her, I want to pull her away from all of this. From her family. From the cold fiancé. From the life she never chose.

But if I say yes, am I crossing a line? Taking advantage of her desperation? If I say no, I keep things clean, professional but I leave her alone in something that clearly terrifies her.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to say yes when she asked me to give her something real in a life full of things she never chose?

Reed Richards (Fantastic 4)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for constantly arguing with my scientific rival, even though I might actually be in love with her?

Let me start by saying I’m not great with emotions. Equations? Fine. Quantum mechanics? My playground. Human connection? That’s where I fall apart.

I (40M) work in advanced theoretical physics, and I’m fairly well-known in my field. A few years ago, a new name started popping up in peer-reviewed journals. Let’s call her R (34F). She’s brilliant, bold and completely unapologetic. And somehow, infuriatingly, smarter than me in areas I used to dominate.

We met at a symposium and things escalated. What began as subtle jabs turned into full-blown intellectual warfare. Debates in front of panels. Arguments in laboratories. Petty rebuttals in published work. To everyone else, we’re rivals, frenemies at best, sworn enemies at worst.

But here’s the part no one knows, I don’t hate her at all.

In fact, I admire her more than anyone I’ve ever met. She challenges me. She keeps me on my toes. And, God help me, she’s gorgeous when she’s yelling at me about my “antiquated entropy model.” I’ve even found myself intentionally provoking her just to see the fire in her eyes. The problem? I’ve backed myself into a corner. I’ve spent so long acting like she’s my nemesis that I don’t know how to flip the script. I can’t just say, “Hey, I know I’ve spent the last three years criticizing your work in front of Nobel committees, but want to grab dinner sometime?”

She probably does hate me. Or worse, she sees me as a childish competitor who can’t handle being challenged by a woman. And maybe that’s not entirely wrong.

So Reddit… AITA for keeping up the act? For pretending to hate her when in reality I can’t stop thinking about her? I don’t even know if she’d take me seriously if I tried to be honest now. Or is it too late to change the rules of the game?

Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for developing feelings for a witness in a murder case even though I’m the lead investigator and she’s the victim’s wife?

I know how it sounds. I hate that I’m even writing this. But here we are.

I (M, 40s) work in law enforcement, been doing it a long time. I’ve seen the worst of people. I’ve interviewed killers with no soul behind their eyes, and families so broken by grief I had to go sit in my car afterward and just breathe.

Then came her.

Let’s call her R (30s F). She was the wife of the man we found shot dead in their home. Brutal scene. She was there too, barely alive when we arrived. Beaten, bloodied and she fought like hell to survive. We think she wasn’t supposed to make it. Suspect must’ve thought she was dead when he fled.

We put her into a protective program while we sort this out. There’s still a threat, still pieces missing. And since I’m the lead on the case, I’ve been around a lot.

It started small, making sure she felt safe. Bringing her updates. Listening when she needed to talk about the past. Her husband wasn’t exactly Prince Charming. There’s a lot to unpack there. And somewhere along the line, I started seeing her as more than a witness. More than a case file. She’s sharp and resilient. The kind of woman who makes you want to be softer just standing near her. And she smiles at me, like she’s grateful I’m there, like she trusts me.

But here’s the thing: her husband just died violently. No matter how their marriage was, he’s gone and I’m the man investigating it. I’m supposed to be objective, professional. And I am, I swear I am. But I can’t lie to myself anymore and pretend I’m not catching feelings I shouldn’t. I haven’t acted on anything. I’d never cross that line. But the way she looks at me sometimes, I wonder if she feels it too.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting something with a woman who’s still technically grieving her dead husband, while I’m supposed to be the one protecting her?

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hold My Hand

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention on a weekend staycation with your friends, a knight in a shining navy suit saves you by offering his hand.

Warnings: creepy guy doesn't understand 'no' and continues making unwanted advances, but Tim saves the day. angst to fluff (I guess?)

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your friends invited you out for a girls’ weekend, you were expecting a spa retreat or a cottage at the beach, not a penthouse in Los Angeles. More than that, you didn’t expect them to pick one of the sleaziest restaurants you’ve ever seen to spend their Friday night. Luckily – if there is a ‘luckily’ in this situation – you found a quiet corner on the rooftop. Your friends are downstairs, huddled around the bar as they look for rich, single men. It doesn’t exactly seem like the breeding ground for that type of man, though.

“Good evening, gorgeous,” a deep voice says behind you.

Assuming they’re talking to someone else, you ignore them, keeping your attention on the railing around the roof’s edge.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you,” he adds.

When his hand lands on your upper arm, forcefully turning you toward him, you truly begin regretting coming on this trip.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim feels like an animal in a zoo enclosure. Wearing a suit that isn’t his, in a place he’d rather never see again, with a few too many pairs of eyes blatantly watching him. 

Two hours ago, he was sitting in the station, minutes away from getting to go home. Now he, Lucy, and Angela are undercover in a known mafia club. While the women in the restaurant stare at Tim, the men try to catch Lucy and Angela’s attention.

Sighing, Tim checks his watch. He’s been in one place too long with no sign of their target.

“I’m gonna go check the roof, see if our target’s up there,” Tim tells Lucy.

“The roof?” she asks.

“Yeah, the bar.”

“There’s a bar on the roof?!” 

“We’re in Los Angeles, boot, of course there’s a bar on the roof. Angela, keep her close.”

Angela nods, and if Lucy wasn’t already a little creeped out by the men standing across the room, she would be offended.

Tim gets in the elevator, leaning against the wall once the doors are closed. The rooftop bar, however, is full of people who are somehow more intimidating than the ones inside. Looking around, Tim doesn’t see the target or any of his known associates. What he does see, though, is a situation that he shouldn’t get involved in, yet he can’t look away.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you cannot take a hint. You slowly back away until his hand falls from your arm, and one of your legs slides off the barstool. When your foot hits the floor, you stand and keep the seat between you.

“C’mon, gorgeous, ‘s jus’ a question,” he slurs. “Yes or no?”

“I said no,” you repeat firmly.

He doesn’t like your answer, though, and you try to hide your flinch when he slams his glass down on the bar.

“You here alone?”

You glance around, hoping you see someone who looks trustworthy enough to hide with. But you don’t see anyone who fits the bill.

“No,” you answer. “My friends are downstairs.”

“Just friends?”

He leans closer, his arm moving to cage you on one side. Inhaling sharply, you try to think of a way to escape this situation without making it worse or drawing more unwanted attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got nothing,” Angela says in Tim’s earpiece. “Anything up there?”

“No,” Tim answers.

“We’re leaving then. Can’t do anything without him here.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up.”

“What?” Lucy asks.

“I’ve got to do something first. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow. Call if you need anything.”

Tim removes the earpiece, switching it off as he drops it into his blazer pocket. Moving quickly across the rooftop, he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have a real plan.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” another voice says beside you. “I was wondering where you got off to. What’s going on here?”

You glance over, and your shoulders drop when you see how clean-cut and trustworthy he looks. Given your current situation, you’re glad to see a man who isn’t clearly a predator, but you try not to think about how low the bar is.

“Hi,” you reply. “I was trying to come back, but, uh, got caught up.”

Widening your eyes slightly, you try to communicate that you are not here by choice.

“Give her some room, man.”

The creep leans back enough that you can move, and you rush to your savior’s side.

“And next time a woman tells you ‘no,’ you’d do well to listen,” he adds darkly, letting you hide behind his shoulder.

“Whatever. She jus’ doesn’t know what she wants.”

A kind hand turns you around, and the man whispers, “I’m Tim.”

You tell him your name, flinching when glass shatters behind you.

“Hold my hand,” Tim says, spreading his fingers between you as he looks over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, you interlace your fingers with his. He pulls you close as the elevator opens. Once you’re alone, neither of you releases your grip on the other’s hand.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I hate that I had to jump in, but you’re welcome. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

You shake your head, looking down at your joined hands.

“Do you really have friends downstairs?”

“I have… acquaintances that I will never be going on vacation with again.”

“Vacation? You’re not from here?”

“That’s the funny part. We all live here, so imagine my surprise when the weekend getaway was twenty minutes from my house.”

“Sounds like you need new friends.”

You hum before asking, “Who are you here with?”

“For work.”

At your confused glance, Tim raises his blazer to reveal a badge.

That must be why he helped you.

The door opens, and you pull your hand from his.

“Thanks for helping me, officer. Have a great night.”

Tim watches as you disappear into the crowd, stepping out of the elevator confused and surprisingly upset. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he calls the only person he can think of. 

“No questions, Angela. I helped a girl get away from a guy who didn’t understand ‘no.’ As soon as she saw the badge she disappeared. Something was happening before that-“

“Timothy,” Angela sighs. “She thinks you did it out of duty then let her flirt with you. Find her and ask her out, anything to show that you did it for her and not because of some twisted savior complex.”

“Thanks, Lopez.”

Ending the call, Tim heads toward the bar. He thinks that’s where groups of girls on vacation probably hang out. When the bar comes into view, he has no problem finding you, like the brightest light in a dark room.

“Nothing happened, I just went to the roof for a while,” you insist.

“No, you had that glow thing. You met a guy.”

“Maybe I did but he wasn’t interested.”

“Don’t drag me into this if you’re not going to tell the story right,” Tim says, approaching your side.

“Tim?” you ask, turning toward him.

Your body language with him compared to the man upstairs, even how you interact with the women you're here with, differs vastly. Squared to him and completely open, you’re practically inviting him to do something.

“I didn’t do it because I thought I had to. I was off the clock, not that it matters. My motivation may have been pure, just to help, at first, but then you held my hand and I never wanted to let go.”

“Can we…” you pause as you look around. “Can we please not do this here?”

“As long as we do it now.”

Tim offers his hand, and you nod as you take it. Leading you through the crowd, Tim keeps you close. Exiting onto the noisy Los Angeles street, Tim turns toward you.

“I could tell you needed help, or wanted it at least,” Tim explains. “But I don’t want this to end here. I- your hand fits in mine.”

“Please don’t tell me that means we’re soulmates or something.”

Tim smiles, and you forget why you were upset in the elevator.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he introduces, shaking your already joined hands. “I am a cop, but not with you. With you, I think I could be the man I’d like to be.”

“Romantic,” you murmur.

“I know. It’s scaring me a little. You can’t tell my friends, okay?”

“As long as we don’t tell mine either.”

“So, you’re willing to try?”

“I mean, where else am I going to find a knight in a shining navy suit?” you ask, leaning closer. “As long as your hand stays in mine, I’m willing to try.”

[intestinesinbows]

ㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀HARRIS, Eric

Eric x Reader

⏕⏕ꔫ⏕⏕

TW ♡ none

note | it's kinda short and probably has errors

ㅤㅤ" you look so divine "

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⏕⏕ꔫ⏕⏕

People say parties are fun... but are they really when you are sitting on the side of the curb while a brush of cold air goes by you? I guess not huh.

♡

Though look where you are now. After a couple of tiny drinks you were out of it. Bored by the same old taste of liquir which seemed to be in every "different" bottle of booze. It all tasted the same. Tasted like electrical shit.

♡

Of course though the liquir wasn't the thing that made you bummed out about the party. Well part of it was and the annoying obnoxious people in there but the thing that made you draw the line was your partner (now ex) kissing someone.

♡

Now here you were. Sitting outside in the cold while tears silently ran down your cheeks. All was silent besides the cars passing by. It was peaceful in a way but that peace was distributed.

♡

♡

You heard maybe three guys arguing with each other. You turned your head to watch as a boy with a buzzcut was pushed outside of the house that the party was in. He huffed in annoyance and turned to look at you. It was Eric Harris.

You assumed he was kicked out probably because he wasn't invited or started some shit with somebody and with that you were on the nail with both assumptions. "Rough night, Harris?" He turned to you and nodded.

♡

He didn't smile he more of just stared blankly maybe like he was ashamed or embarrassed at himself. He turned back to you and spoke "Seems like you had one as well." It was obvious he noticed your tears running down your cheeks. You nodded and patted the rough concrete next to you.

♡

"Wanna chat." You said softly. He shrugged his shoulders and took the seat next to you. "So whats up with you?" You asked. He rubbed the back of his neck and explained the situation. It was something on the lines of some guy splashing alcohol on him as a joke then they got into a tussle. When the owners of the party found out Eric was there they kicked him out because he had snuck in.

♡

You couldn't remember all the details more so you were just staring at his face. He was cute. He turned to you and gave a small smile. "What's up with you doll face?" The small nickname "doll face" made your heart pound but you decided to explain the situation.

♡

Gross alcohol, your ex was cheating on you, blah, blah, blah. After that you both sat in a silence for a little. "You know what fuck them." Eric said. You looked at him a little confused until you caught on to what he was saying. "Yeah fuck them..." you muttered. You looked back at him and he nudged you to cheer up a little. You chuckled. "Yeah. Fuck everyone... everyone sucks. Well maybe not you." You said to him.

♡

He laughed and eased into me. "The party was lame anyways. I bet we could make a better one but also staying outside here right next to you is nice too." Eric said and leaned back to look up at the stars.

♡

"Do you think they're pretty?" He asked. You nodded and he agreed with you. "Yeah... they really are. I wonder whats up there." He said in a gentle curious tone. It was like he was mesmerized.

♡

He straightened his posture and turned to look at you once more. "You're pretty like the stars." He said and you gently pushed him with a giggle. It was a teasing push though you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder. "You know Harris, you aren't too bad yourself."