#like thank you for being my boss/situationship

[presidentkamala]

Ughh how do i tell this guy that while we are on extremely the same page politics wise and i love a good vent sesh, i canNOT and i mean canNOT keep fielding his spiralling about rfk jr publicly lynching fauci and his copium fueled jags about the dems somehow uncovering election subversion and cancelling the results of the election

[reiderwriter]

♡ Forever Only ♡

Week 3 of my Playlist series

Summary: You thought you wouldn't see him again, at least for a while, but Spencer Reid finds you, and he has questions.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni. Penetrative sex, voyeurism, fingering, multiple orgasms, semi-protected sex, creampie, almost breeding kink, like if you squint, slight angst, dom!Spencer Reid.

A/N: First smut of the series! This one is based on one of my top songs of 2023, everyone say thank you, Jaehyun, for releasing the closest K-pop is ever going to get to 00s R&B. I hope you all enjoy it 🥰

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Of all the places you'd been where you thought of Spencer Reid and your paths crossing again, you never expected it to actually happen here.

The club was lit so low, so you didn't really expect it to be him, your ex-something, not quite boyfriend, far from nothing, situationship maybe? But there he was.

Not just him, but all of them. The BAU, minus their bosses, were all dancing and drinking at various points around the club, having fun but still being vigilant.

You're surprised you notice him before he notices you, but you're not surprised that it doesn't take him much longer.

You're not exactly here to blend in with the crowd.

The low-cut dress with the lower-cut bust line is already getting as much attention as you'd expected it would, and that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer as he finally drags his eyes over to the commotion you've made in the corner.

“I don't know you,” you tried to politely explain to the creep who'd blocked you in with one arm. “I'm just waiting for my friend, please leave me alone.”

“Let's have some fun, baby, you, me, that body you're hiding under those scraps of fabric. I'll make you scream, I promise.”

You'd scoffed the first few times he'd made similar remarks, but he was tenacious, and he didn't understand the word “no,” and was vaguely unfamiliar with “leave,” “me,” and “alone” too.

You'd scanned the room for a friendly face and had locked eyes with the man you'd been waiting six months to meet again. Perfect timing.

Of course, he'd picked up on your discomfort and walked your way, and of course, he'd bought back-up.

“Y/N, you should've sent me a text when you got here!” Emily Prentiss expertly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a hug, as the man was forced to let you move.

“Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked,” you mumbled, still feeling the weight of the creeps gaze on you despite your newly inherited guard dogs.

“Come on over to the table, baby girl, we got bottle service. I'm going big tonight.” You tried to thank Morgan as well, but the smile you sent him didn't reach your eyes as you consciously avoided Spencer's gaze.

“You know these people, babe?” The stranger from behind you put a hand on your waist as he pulled you back a step, leaving you stumbling wide eyed until your back was to his chest, shoulders unconsciously rounding into a protective stance as you tried to shrug hum off.

“For the last time, let go of me. I don't know you, and I don't want to know you. This is your last warning.” You rounded on the man, turned your back to the other three agents, and tried to calm your thoughts to see his next reaction.

“Stuck-up bitch, I said you're coming home with me tonight.”

You made sure his last attempt to grab you was his last attempt to grab any woman as you flipped him onto his back, your fellow agents behind you pulling their guns and handcuffs to helpfully lead him out of his hunting grounds.

You'd hadn't wanted to see Spencer Reid again so soon, and you certainly hadn't wanted to enlist the entire teams help on a serial rape case, but it wasn't your final decision to make.

And honestly, you'd been glad for the help in the take down, with your office so understaffed.

After reading the creep his rights, seizing the date rape drug he'd planned to slip into your drink later that night, and the knives and rope in his card that he was planning to also use on you, you were just thankful that you had all the help you could get.

Now that you were back at the station at 4am, with nothing but aching muscles from handing the nearly 200 lbs man his ass to him on a platters and aching feet from doing it in heels, you wanted nothing else than for the last week to erase itself.

Six months absence from the BAU wasn't long enough to fall out of love with Spencer Reid, and you never thought it would be.

A year was all the time it had taken to fall head over heels for the man, and you'd assumed you could reverse that in the same time, so you'd left.

It wasn't a leave of absence but a strategic departure to a task force in Rapid City, where rape numbers were spiking. You were still doing your job, that was the important part.

You changed into your comfortable clothes in the locker room and grabbed your bag, ready to head out for the night, picking up your keys to head home. You only got two steps out of the room when you ran into him.

“Early start?” He joked, looking at you again with that hesitant half-smile he'd worn the entire week he'd been here.

“Late night.” You replied. It had been a joke you'd developed after so many unusual shifts, so many 3am run-ins where neither of you could find the effort to make actual polite conversation so you'd said the two sentences and sat in amicable silence, often rested against each other as you let exhaustion carry you through the night.

“Can we talk? We're leaving in the morning, and I…” he struggled to find the words, jaw clenching and releasing the way it always did when he couldn't put his emotions into words just yet.

“Sure. But not here. My apartment is a five minute drive.” He nodded and followed you out of the building as you primed your heart to shatter into pieces again.

The drive home was quiet and peaceful, too late for natural traffic, and too early for the morning commute to begin. You made it home in record time and led him inside the apartment you'd chosen.

You flipped the light switch and kept you back to him while you completed your daily routine, trying your best to ignore that he was standing in your doorway. You tried not to be curious about what he could tell about you from the doorway, what the lack of decoration meant, how different it was from that cosy box room three blocks from his apartment, how cold it seemed instead.

So you kept your eyes off him to not have to answer the questions he'd likely have.

“So what did you want to talk about, Spence?” You almost cursed yourself for how easily the nickname slipped from your tongue. You'd heard JJ call him that a few times your first week in the office and assumed it was something everyone used for him. The way he flushed red when you said it the first time was engraved in your head, those first heavy beats of your heart alerting you to oncoming danger.

You grabbed two bottles of water from your fridge and walked back to your living room, where he was still stood taking things in.

“Spencer?” You asked again, holding out the bottle.

He took it with a small smile of thanks, and you led him over to the sofa, urging him to talk again.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“You… you didn't say goodbye.”

You knew this was coming, but you hoped he wouldn't have the courage to ask you the questions you knew were about to arrive at your door.

“I'm coming back in six months, Spencer. I didn't say goodbye because it wasn't going to be goodbye.” You'd turned this excuse over in your brain enough to know it was a weak argument, but you hoped your friendly smile would reassure him.

“You didn't tell anyone you were leaving until you were gone. That hurt a lot.”

“I didn't want to hurt you. Everything was just so fast. I had to take the offer immediately, or they would've moved onto someone else. You understand, right, Spencer?” He sat back, resigned, and nodded again slightly.

But a silence built up as he stared at you, and your hands got all sweaty the way they always did when he paid attention to you. You couldn't just stare everywhere else until he broke the silence again.

“How is Rachel? I haven't heard from her in a while.” You blurted the words under the weight of his gaze.

And you knew you'd said too much in those two sentences.

You'd first introduced Spencer to your college roommate after you realised you were in love with him. You'd spent a year at the BAU, and you thought he felt the same way, too.

You hadn't said anything, but you ate together at his apartment weekly, and you went on outings - dates, you'd thought they were dates - to museums and movies. He'd slept over at your house once, and you'd never felt happier than waking up with his arms wrapped around you.

So, of course, you'd taken him along to a party your friend from college was throwing. You'd nearly introduced him as your boyfriend, and looking back, you were glad Rachel had cut you off before you could.

“Is this the famous Spencer Reid? You're cuter than I thought you'd be.” You saw the flirtatious spark in her eyes, heard her tone, and felt uncomfortable.

You felt even worse when she took his hand and led him off to introduce him to more of your friends without a glance back at you.

For the first hour, you were worried about him, knowing that he never did great in social settings. You contented yourself by catching up with old friends, nursing a glass of wine, and trying not to follow him around the room with your eyes.

You'd given up and sat miserably in the corner for the next hour before you'd decided you wanted to leave. This time you'd had to track him down.

It wasn't that you'd found him in any compromising situation. He was just sat on the couch, smiling and talking to her. But when you said you wanted to go home, and he'd agreed to drive you back, she'd grabbed his hand.

“So Tuesday, 8 pm, right? It's a date." He nodded and said his goodbyes, and you wiped all of the emotion off your face so you didn't break down right there.

He talked to you as he drove back, but you could only nod and hum in response.

You shrugged off his concern as you walked into your apartment alone and let your heart break.

You were in Rapid City the next week.

“Your friend from college? I'm….I'm not sure.” He looked genuinely confused down at you as your lungs capsized in on themselves.

“Oh, right.” You nodded again and forced out a yawn, desperate to get rid of him before he could climb back into your heart again and roost there.

“You didn't keep in touch with her after you moved?”

“We had… a disagreement.” It was a kind way to put what had happened. You'd sent her one text asking her what all of that was at her party, and she'd sent you a paragraph back the day of her date with Spencer calling you pathetic and lonely and jealous. And then she'd blocked your number.

“That sucks. She seemed nice.” You couldn't help but scoff at his words, completely forgetting your plan to ask him to leave. Of course, he thought Rachel was nice. He'd been half in love with her by the end of that party.

“What was that for?” He asked, the words spilling out quickly as his eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing. It's late, Spencer.”

“I don't think it was nothing. Why are you asking me about your friend? Why would I know?” He was on the edge of his seat now, and you needed desperately to put some space between you. You stood up and stretched, moving to clean up a pile of papers you'd left on your coffee table that morning.

“You certainly seemed interested six months ago, Spence. I just assumed there was a second date after that first one. My bad.”

You moved to your kitchen, bit he followed you.

“What do you mean? Y/N?” You weren't listening though, instead organising and cleaning things at a quick pace so your brain didn't have to focus on his question.

“Y/N, look at me. Please.” He stepped closer his chest nearly against your back as his hand found your wrist.

It was involuntary, but you relaxed into his familiar grip, your body finally content, and now it was back in his arms.

“Or don't look at me and just listen to me. I don't know what you're talking about, but I never went on any date with Rachel. I wasn't interested in her like that, I was interested in-” He stopped short, frustration ebbing his voice off as the silent words hung between the two of you.

You finally turned around to look at him, and you could see the hurt in his eyes.

He whispered his question again.

“Why didn't you say goodbye?”

“Because my heart was broken, Spencer. Because I took you to meet my friends and I thought I was going to introduce you as my boyfriend, but instead I got ignored the whole night and then you arranged to meet with her and she called it a date. I loved you, I love you and I couldn't say goodbye because then I'd have to hear about it. About how you were happy without me, when I was lonely and broken without you.”

You didn't know you were crying until the tears his your lips. He wiped then away, but they still tasted salty as you licked your lips.

“I didn't come to work for a month,” he confessed. “After you left, I tried to give Hotch my resignation letter. He wouldn't tell me where you went. I came back but it wasn't the same without you.” His forehead rested against yours, noses touching as his words came out barely above a whisper.

“I can't come back, Spencer. Not until I don't feel this way anymore.”

He didn't miss a beat before pressing his lips against yours.

“Don't.” He said between kisses, pinning you against your kitchen counter as he gripped your waist in one hand. You didn't pull away, even as you felt your hot tears flow freely.

“Don't stop loving me. Please.” His voice broke as he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms tight around your back, pinning your hands to his chest as sobs wracked through your body.

You'd held onto this pain for a year and it was all spilling out now.

He looked at you again and started kissing each tear away, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around him, and he was as close you you as he could possibly be.

“Love me forever. Please.”

You pulled his head away to look at him again, searching for reassurance again that this wasn't going to be one-sided.

“What about you? If I love you forever, which I don't think I have a choice in, how-”

“I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, I will always love you. I don't know how it wasn't clear when I followed you around every second of the day.” He kissed you with each confession, looking angry at himself that he'd never said the words before.

“I asked your friend how I should ask you to be my girlfriend. She had a lot of ideas and said we should meet up and talk about it. I didn't know…” He cursed, not quite as quietly as he'd attempted to. The strangeness of it shocked a laugh out of you, the rumble of it vibrating through your chest. He still held you tightly, but he looked at you again, getting out of his head.

“What's funny?”

“You tried to quit your job to look for me.”

“You moved to South Dakota instead of asking what we were.”

“You kissed me before you told me how you felt.”

“You kissed me back and then you laughed at me.”

“You swore!” You laughed again, and you were sure that he was going to have to put you down this time. You were laughing so much.

Instead he pulled you tighter into his arms and walked out of the kitchen.

“Is this the bedroom?” He asked nodding towards the closed door.

Your laugh quieted at the charged question, until your eyes found his lips as you nodded.

“Good.”

You let him lay you down on the bed before you pulled him in for another kiss, this one more fiery than any you'd shared in the kitchen as he hovered over you on the bed.

“Spencer!” You gasped as his hands trailed under your shirt. You regretted changing out of that small dress now, regretting the amount of fabric between you and him as his hands glided up to your breasts, mouth pressing kiss after kiss into your neck and collarbone.

He nestled his knee between yours and climbed fully over you, pushing your legs open as he showed you where you were going next. You moaned as your back arched into his touch, rubbing yourself against him but still needing him closer.

“I love every sound you make.’ He whispered as his other hand worked its way under the sweatpants you'd thrown on earlier, silently pushing them down your legs as you lifted your hips to help him once again.

His mouth connected with yours again after he got them to your knees, hand pressing flat against your stomach as you finished off the job.

He laid next to you, pulling his lips off your own as you trailed after him. But his eyes weren't on you anymore. You followed his gaze to his hand and watched him slip his fingers under your panties as he began to tease your sensitive parts.

You whimpered slightly as the contact, as he gathered some of your wetness and ran his fingers up and down your sensitive parts.

His lips found your ears. “Just like that. I want to hear you just like that. Whimper for me, Y/N. Beg for me. Let me know how much you want this.”

You gasped as he started rubbing slow even circles around your clit, his body still rolled to the side so he could watch intently the pleasure on your face.

It was near voyeuristic, his eyes focused on your face, the pants of air escaping your lips, the way your nipples had hardened, and had become visible through your shirt.

You hadn't been able to wear a bra with your dress earlier, you wanted to explain, but you couldn't find the words.

“Look at your body reacting to me. You need me to make you feel like this.” He whispered, lowering his head to press a chaste kiss over your clothed nipple. “Right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes Spencer. I need you.”

“Here. Can you feel how much I need you, too?” He grabbed your hand in his free one and pulled it over his erection, instructing you silently on how to hold it and rub it.

“I can feel it, Spencer. Please, please fuck me.” Your voice felt alien to yourself. You'd never had that high of a sex drive before, so you'd never thought you'd ever have to beg for it. But there was something in the tender touch of Spencer's fingers that has you desperate to feel him inside you.

“Do you have condoms?”

“No.”

“Birth control?”

“Yes, yes, please, Spencer. Please, I don't care.” His pace had picked up, his fingers moving slightly rougher than before, but you knew you were close as he kept massaging your sensitive clit.

You knew you were going to cum before you felt him inside you, you knew you'd want to cum again. You were going to be forever insatiable because of this man.

He kissed his way across your skin as he peeled your shirt and his clothes off, leaving your panties for last as he watched you grind your cunt into his fingers.

“I love you,” he whispered In your ear as he stroked his cock, watching your body convulse as you came just at his touch.

He kept his lips close to your ear as he entered you during the throes of your first orgasm, whispering again when he had slid his entire length into you. “And you're mine.”

You were intoxicated by his touch, cum drunk as he began thrusting and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He nipped and sucked at your neck, listening to you moan and whimper as he pulled out and entered you again and again, head thrown back into the sheets of the bed you'd been too eager to climb underneath.

A few minutes of thrusting and he gripped your waist and sat you up on his cock, moving his hands to your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he bounced you steadily on his cock.

“Shit, Spencer, you're…so…deep,” you pulled him in closer, burying your head in his neck as you deafened as embarrassing squeal.

You came again on his cock as he used you like a flashlight, his own pants and groans soundtracking your breathless orgasm.

“That's it, good job, Y/N,” he cooed at you, lowering you back onto your back and thrusting shallowly through your convulsions. When you'd recovered slightly again, he gently pushed your legs up, stretching you so your knees were as far back as they could go, splayed open so they were almost touching the bed.

His forehead rested against yours again as he held you in place, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he snapped his hips into you with long, quick thrusts that had you gasping again for the breath he was forcing out of your lungs.

“I love you. And you are mine.” He said. “I love you, and you are mine.” The words were a mantra to him as he worked himself to the edge.

“Yes, yes, I'm yours. I love you, I'm yours, Spencer.” He came with a whimper, releasing inside of you and collapsing gently into your arms as you readied yourself to hold one another for the rest of eternity.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi! I started listening to Chappell Roan after seeing a post about her on your blog, and now I'm obsessed. Could you please give me some more music recommendations? Thanks!!!

god I love this. no further specifications, just carte blanche to go hogwild and recommend anything.

you didn't even ask for any structure but I'm nothing if not constantly looking for an excuse to be extra, so I've provided one tangentially thematically related recommendation for almost song on Midwest Princess (not all of them, tumblr won't let me do more than ten audio links booo)

Femininomenon 🏍️

listen, girlies: we're NEVER going to have a femininomenon if we can't even stop talking about these mediocre boys. move along! forget about them!

Red Wine Supernova 🍷

the theme is being so horny it changes how your brain is wired.

After Midnight 💃

mom doesn't like you wearing that dress and red lipstick and dad doesn't like you bleaching your hair, but what if you just had fun?

Casual 🧜🏽‍♀️

so, you've escaped an unbearable situationship.

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl 🛸

this is a song for the guy with the fugly jeans who didn't ask you a single question and won't dance

HOT TO GO! 🍟

I'd like to think serpentwithfeet is getting closer than those damn gloves in the same club where Chappell is trying to get to hot hands on her body. gay hands cinematic universe.

My Kink Is Karma 😈

is sitting back watching them ruin their own life not enough anymore? get proactive!

Kaleidoscope ✨

so. the relationship got Weird and now nothing will ever be the same :/

Pink Pony Club 🐎

the queer country king himself. incidentally I would KILL for Orville Peck to cover Pink Pony Club.

Guilty Pleasure 🚬

Chappell said we could go to hell but we'll probably be fine; Rina said this hell is better with you. songs for queer girlies who aren't scared of the devil, you know what I mean?

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Hey, Jealousy

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”

Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”

Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”

“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger…”

“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”

A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.

“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”

“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”

“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”

“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”

THEN

It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.

As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.

He could be merciful when he wanted to be.

The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their… “situationship”, however…

After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.

“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”

“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”

“I was just - doing - my job-”

Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides. 

“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”

Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”

“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”

“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”

“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”

“You’d better be.”

NOW

The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.

“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”

“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.” 

“We said we’re sorry!”

“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”

“I’m going to kill you–”

John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”

“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”

“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”

Johnny raised his hand.  “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.

Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”

Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–

“Johnny.”

“Sir?”

Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”

“Aye.”

“Still in effect.”

.

.

.

Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.

Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.

When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –

There.

Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.

All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.

Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.

He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”

She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.

Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”

“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.

“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”

Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”

“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.

With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.

According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.

She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–

The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”

“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”

“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”

She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.

Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.

I should put in for a day or two off.

“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.

“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”

Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.

“Soap-“

“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”

Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries…

Anyone would lose their patience.

Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing. 

As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”

Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”

All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup…

She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.

“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”

Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?

Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.

“How much of me can you take?”

“All of it.”

“Bloody hell…” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”

She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer…

“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”

His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.

Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.

Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”

She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.

Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”

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[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club)

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ only, minors i am ON PATROL

Chapter 011: Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

Movie night is cut short when Billy and Eddie both show up to your door in search of compromise.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

somewhat smut = *

smut =**

word count: 4.5k words

disclaimers — eddie’s bruised lil face, billy’s bruised face, no one is beating the living daylights out of the other this time. 😵‍💫 just a lot of ✨ fluff ✨ and you guessed it… ANGST , traumatic flashback, max being a mastermind with her plotting & scheming 👀

“My head is saying ‘Fool, forget him!’, my heart is saying ‘Don’t Let Go’…”

♡

Isabelle Munson is a menace and a half.

It’s obvious that Eddie’s ex wife married him for one thing and one thing only: his money. And, when caught in her web of lies, Isabelle quickly threw him under the bus to cover her trail.

“What, are you trying to take over Hellfire or something?”

It’s no wonder why Eddie freaked out on you like that. The clinginess and need for control over your ‘situationship’ probably set off all the necessary alarms in his head. Even though Eddie probably knew your intentions, he didn’t want to risk the possibility of another Isabelle. After all, she too started as an employee.

POP! Snap! Fizz…

Max pours a can of soda into her ice cold tumbler. She stirs it around before taking a few sips.

"Your boss’s ex wife sounds like a bitch," she comments.

"The biggest bitch," you shake your head. "I’m reading up on all the tea right now."

A paramour for control, Isabelle’s calling to make Hellfire all about her started affecting the work-life balance. So, Eddie sent her to NDA Gentlemen’s Club in order to keep their affairs separate. But then a romantic affair began to brew between Isabelle and Terry, the owner and actual culprit behind the scandal. And of course that opened up another can of worms.

“Why would Isabelle wanna put Eddie behind bars instead of the guy who actually tried to sex traffic her?” Max inquires.

“Terry Hobb was already gonna be arrested,” you discover. “If Eddie went under too, Isabelle would likely be entitled to his assets while he’s locked up. Probably what she wanted all along.”

Framing Eddie for a crime. Something that’s so easy to do in Hawkins.

Like Billy said, Eddie coming from a long line of criminals did NOT help his case. Drug dealer, murderer. Con-man and arsonist. Eddie being someone who trafficked the vulnerable would be easy to believe, especially in a town full of conservative women who were tired of their husbands coming home late — and drenched in glitter.

To bear the Munson name is not exactly a blessing. Even the woman Eddie made a Munson managed to do him dirty.

There’s another kind of wolf that Mom never warned you about: the one dressed in white — the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“This is all so awful,” you swallow hard, finally planting your phone face down onto the kitchen table.

And now Eddie’s business is in jeopardy again. All thanks to two volatile Hargroves who have no sense of self control.

"Why do I feel like there's something there?"

Max brings you back to earth. When you turn, she’s smirking at you.

“What do you mean?” you ask her.

“Oh come on,” Max rolls her eyes. “You seem really bothered by this. And Eddie beat THE LIVING SHIT out of Billy. Doesn’t seem like he does it for just any employee.”

You feel yourself blushing. Not only that but Eddie never fights anybody, period. He’s always called on Henry to do all the dirty work for him.

But Eddie knew about Billy and how powerless he made you feel. Seeing your abuser meandering so comfortably around his establishment was probably the last straw.

“There…might be something,” you confirm. “It’s hard though. Eddie doesn’t wanna commit.”

“Well after a marriage that traumatizing I wouldn’t either,” Max shrugs. “I’d be deathly afraid of women for the rest of my life.”

She walks over to grab the two bowls of popcorn that you guys heated up for everybody. You two, along with Vicky and Robin, are having a movie night to wind down from all the chaos. Tonight’s choice is Grease.

"Alright kiddos, camp is almost set up!" Robin dances her way into the kitchen. "We ready for some Grease Lightnin'?"

Max swoons as she adds some more key ingredients to her popcorn. "Hell yeah! Love me some Travolta and showtunes."

“What are you doing?” Robin asks, watching your sister douse your shared popcorn bowl with cayenne pepper and lime.

“A lil California spin on mine and Sissy's popcorn,” Max shrugs. “A squeeze of lime and some tajín. Well — cayenne pepper — since we don’t have any."

“That’s outrageous.”

“Wait till you see what we do with street corn,” you gush, dreaming about elote.

“Oh god…” Robin goes pale white.

“No really, Robin! It’s pretty good,” you insist.

“Not that!” Robin shakes her head. She points out the window. “That…”

You turn in the direction that Robin points in, which is outside towards the street.

Billy.

“Billy,” you gasp silently.

Your brother is parked along the curb, climbing out of his rental car with a little pep in his step. You watch as he checks his, relatively bruised, appearance, tugging at his hair and giving his clothes one last pat-down before making his way over.

Concerned footsteps dart their way into the kitchen. Vicky looks just as mortified as Robin.

"Do y'all see this?" Vicky questions.

Everyone nods to validate.

"How does Billy know where we live?!" you demand turning to the only other person here who has his phone number.

Guilt spreads across Max's face. As mortified as you are, you can't blame her. The fucked up parts of yourself would've done the same thing. You and Billy were in dire need of a heart to heart.

"You guys need to talk," Max explains what you're thinking. "I'm not letting him leave without at least a word or two. He agreed to be civil when I texted him."

"Thanks," you mumble. "I would've done the same."

Anyone who didn't fully understand the dynamic would've thought you and Max were crazy. But there is a part of you that will always love Billy.

Billy’s getting closer now. You can hear him clearing his throat from outside.

“So are we going to need the fire department too?” Robin asks, phone readily in hand.

“Most likely,” Vicky shrugs.

“No one’s calling anybody,” you instruct. “At least not yet. Let’s just see what he wants first.”

Billy's at the door now and you have no choice but to answer. You swing it open before he could even get a knock in, knuckle floating in mid-air but slowly drifting back down when he sees you in front of him.

Your big brother. At least by two minutes.

“Sup,” Billy greets you, almost jokingly. He flashes you a peace sign. Hi. I come in peace.

“You look awful.”

“Yeah, mosh pits aren’t really my scene,” he takes a sly jab at Eddie.

He requests entry into your new humble abode to which you deny. Billy backs down without question. So instead you walk out into the porch and close the door behind you.

“Before you press charges,” you preface. “I just want you to know how hardworking, kind, and empathetic Eddie i-”

Billy stops you with a raised hand. “I’m not…pressing charges.”

You’re almost stunned. “You…you’re not?”

“No,” Billy’s eyes are sullen. “I started it.”

“Eddie threw the first punch,” you point out. “If anything all you did was provoke him, which obviously won’t hold up well for him in court-”

“I…” Billy insists. “…started it.”

You don’t question it anymore because you can sense aggression brewing. And you preferred to talk to Billy when he’s calm like this.

Both of you take a seat right on the porch stairs. You can feel Vicky, Robin, and Max staring from inside.

“I deserved it,” Billy shakes his head. “And everything else coming to me for what I’ve done.”

“You don’t deserve it,” you try to convince him — and even yourself — of what you’re saying.

“YOU don’t even believe that,” Billy says, seeing through the bullshit. “Just fucking save it, okay?”

It's not like you can deny it any longer. Billy is the reason why you and Max are in this situation.

“I could’ve killed Max if I had been any more careless,” Billy grieves. “All because, what, she threw a box at me? And punched a hole in the wall because I said shit that made her do it. What I did made me lose everything I had left. Made me lose you guys."

Accountability, that's the first step. You turn away from him, refusing to believe this new change of heart.

"I didn’t honor your wishes to be left alone or at least given a little space..." he continues. "Showed up to your safe space and overstayed my welcome. And it blew up in front of me. Probably shattered my septum too."

"Do you see now?" you choke. "Do you see why we can't live with each other?"

"I'm sure we can, we just gotta change our ways."

"We've been trying to change our ways since Dad and Sue left!" you hiss. "Since Mom died, since the first crack in the glass. We change, but it just evolves into something worse."

Crickets on Billy's end. You can tell he's sitting with the words, no matter how uncomfortable they feel. But that alone is another big step.

You turn to stroke his face. He closes his eyes in dismay, soaking in all the affection radiating off your delicate, trembling hands.

“Look at what we do to each other, Billy," you plead. "It's not like this when we're apart."

Billy opens his eyes. They’re glistening with tears.

You fill him in on the friends you've made in Hawkins. How much your bank account grew. The payments you’ve caught up on since stripping at Hellfire. How you and Max sleep comfortably through the night. After what seems like forever.

Life is beautiful without Billy. As much as you didn’t want that to be true.

Billy finally speaks again. “What happened to us?”

“I don’t know,” you shake your head. “And until we can both get our shit together, we need to stay away from each other.”

And now it’s 1998. You and Billy are four years old, playing tug-o-war over the last chocolate chip cookie in the jar.

CRASH! went the jar when it fell to the floor.

You’re both in trouble now. Or so you thought.

Billy ended up winning this round, scurrying off with the cookie while you attempted to sweep the broken shards of glass away. But knowing Billy had gotten a beating several days prior — it was BAD this time — you decided to take all the blame.

“Say ‘Sorry Daddy’ right now,” your father ordered after three aggressive spanks to your backside.

Bent across his lap, you bite your tongue as he issues two more spanks with his large, calloused hands. It was sure to leave a mark.

“SAY IT,” Dad roared.

But you weren’t sorry. So it came out strained.

“‘m sorry Daddy,” you sniff. “And I’m sorry… Billy.”

The last word wasn’t worth it. It was never worth it.

Your buttcheeks were burning, eyes stinging with salty, resentful tears as Dad continued to use you as an outlet for his rage. When you thought it was over, Dad chucked you off his lap, pulling you by the hair to toss you against the wall like it was some dodgeball game at the Y.

Billy’s eyes watched in horror. Your eyes burned into his as he poked his curious head out from the wall he was hiding behind.

“Doing it for you,” you mouthed to him.

Later that night, your bruised behind hobbled side to side to your shared room after your bedtime routine. To your pleasant surprise, there was something waiting for you on a small plate at the foot of your bed.

The last chocolate chip cookie.

You and Billy never apologized to each other back then. So acts of service like saving each other the last sweet treat made for a good alternative.

Billy walked over to you as you fawned over the last cookie. You turned to him in disbelief.

“I thought you ate it,” you smiled.

“No, I was saving it,” Billy lied. “All for you, Sissy.”

“It used to be us against the world,” Billy recalls. “As cheesy as that shit sounds.”

“But now it’s just...not,” you point out. “We just can’t be in each other’s lives. We gotta love each other from afar, Billy. At least until we can figure out how to be civil with each other.”

Billy doesn’t speak for a while. Instead he takes a look around the neighborhood. The tall trees that decorate the telephone poles. The flat land that perfectly accentuates the edge of the horizon. The fresh air, slightly corrupted with the overpowering scent of Marlboro. It’s no quaint beach town, but there was something about it that screamed “home” in no way San Diego can.

“Are you sure this is something you wanna do?” Billy questions you, referring to your job. “It’s not a safe gig, sis.”

“I can handle it,” you insist. “It’s temporary anyways.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this…” he sighs. “But I’m proud of you… ass and tits out and all.”

“Gee thanks,” you joke as you nudge him. “I’m glad I have your approval.”

After a while, you two finally stand up and make your way inside. Max is reluctant to walk towards Billy when he walks in, but that same invisible cord inclines her to do so anyway.

“You still don’t like me, huh?” Billy infers.

Max crosses her arms. “How can I?”

A timid smile forms across Billy’s face. “But you don’t hate me?”

Max repeats her sentiment. “How can I?”

She runs to him and snakes her arms tightly around his waist and he swings her around. Max giggles like a child when he playfully ruffles her hair.

“Seriously, how can I?” she questions. “I’d really like to take an expert class on how to hate you.”

Billy chuckles. “You need money for school books?”

“No, Sis got me on that.”

“Of course she does,” Billy says, peering over at you. “You’re in good hands.”

You formally introduce your brother to Robin and Vicky but it’s an awkward ordeal. Can't expect your good friends to get along with the person whose choked you out on multiple occasions throughout most of your life. Slapped you around as well. Pulled your hair and tainted your body black and blue. Calls you "bitch" and "slut" wherever he sees fit. But still loves you with everything he's got. And you, him.

Trauma is a weird thing.

Billy didn’t intend to stay for long, so he sees himself out shortly after that.

“Alright, I’ll text you when I leave,” Billy announces. “Call me. Please. If you two need anything.”

“Okay,” you smile. “We’ll be sure to answer this time too whenever you call.”

Billy gives you a half-assed salute as he swings the door open. He nearly shifts himself backwards when an unexpected surprise greets him at the door.

Eddie.

Standing 5-foot-10 with a face full of contusions and cat-like scratches is your boss. Eddie cringes when he sees Billy, eliciting a similar reaction from your brother the moment they register each other.

The silence is deafening.

There’s an urge to pick up where they left off, but both men refrain from doing so for your sake. Billy stomps off, shaking his head without meeting Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie turns to you. Waits until Billy is out of earshot to speak.

“You’re right about your brother being a douche."

You laugh. Eddie gives you that puppy dog pout with his chocolate brown eyes. You want to forget about him so bad. You want to let him go. But your heart is yearning for more.

“Do you still hate me?”

“Kinda,” you shrug. “But less so by the minute.”

“I deserved that.”

You can’t help it anymore. Eddie tries his best not to wince when you fall into him, wrapping your arm around his waist and burying your head in his chest.

He rubs your back gently before ruffling your hair. Then he plants a gentle kiss onto your forehead. It launches you into squeezing him tighter.

“You okay?” he mumbles.

You nod into his chest and he strokes your hair, allowing you all the time you need to let you guard down.

“How long is he staying in town?”

“Forgot to ask,” you answer him honestly. “Probably not for long.”

“You should board up your windows just in case,” Eddie says half-jokingly. “Install a few more locks. Probably a few cameras.”

You tsk. “Okay, I don’t think I need to get that carried away.”

“Fine,” Eddie shrugs. “Of course I can always stay the night too.”

His fingers dance up the small of your back, causing you to inhale sharply out of arousal.

“Protect you a lil more…” he continues.

“Yeah I don’t think so, Munson,” Robin clears her throat, knowingly interrupting the sappy moment you’re sharing. “Movie night is for the girls only.”

“You know I can always leave it to you to cock-block, Buckley,” Eddie laughs. It’s a reminiscent one. “Thought your silhouette looked familiar at Hellfire.”

Your eyes dart between them both.

“You guys know each other?!”

“We all went to school together,” Vicky explains, coming back into sight as well. “The three of us were all in the same band class at one point.”

“Until ‘Dungeons’ over here thought he was too cool for us,” Robin adds. “And started his own band.”

“I was always a lil eccentric, wasn’t I?” Eddie winks. “Thanks for remembering. Though Corroded Coffin is all a distant memory now.”

“So that means you guys went to school with Steve too?” you direct your question towards Robin and Vicky.

Vicky raises an eyebrow. “Steve? Like… Steve Steve? Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?”

“You know King Steve?” Robin scoffs, completely baffled. She crosses her arms in amusement.

“Oh she knows King Steve,” Eddie smirks. “Knows him real well.”

“Jealous much?” you quip.

“I plead the fifth,” Eddie mutters.

“And I plead that we all know less and less about each other,” Max sighs. You almost forget that she’s there. “If you’ll excuse me.”

The girlfriends follow Max back into their room to continue with movie night. Now you’re left alone again with Eddie.

You stare up at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Just a couple ruffled feathers, I’ll be fine,” he dismisses your concern.

"You've got a great deal of damage control to do when we go back.”

“Eh,” Eddie shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time my business was in trouble.”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

“And for as long as you’re along for the ride? This probably won’t be my last.”

“Swinging at my estranged family members, my hero my hero,” you joke, finding yourself leaning into him further.

And then you kiss him. It's your first advance in a while that Eddie doesn't shy away from. He kisses you back, with an ignited passion that surpasses even the electricity from Saturday in his van. It's an aching, and a longing.

His lips interlace ever so comfortably with yours. He's missed you so. And you missed him too. Even when you were being irrationally jealous over Nina.

“Gettin’ me in so much trouble, Hargrove,” Eddie grazes your back as he slowly pulls away.

And your eyes can’t help but trail down to his hands. Knuckles bloody, fingers absent of any rings for once, tan lines on all but one special finger.

“Did you love Isabelle?”

Eddie stares at you like you’re insane.

"Of course I did,” he insists. “She was my wife. There were some warning signs that she was after my money though, but I was too stubborn to believe it was true.”

You nod.

"But now you know," Eddie grins in exhaustion. “Now you know why I’m guarded. Because like you, even Isabelle looked like a dream”. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he mumbles, “Too good to be true.”

Your heart shatters for him.

“You need to start saying what’s really on your mind,” you say to him. “Speaking up, asking for help. I’m tired of watching you fight battles alone.”

“Then don’t look,” Eddie jokes. One second later and he’s back to being serious. “It’s pretty hard to trust people when they prove to you time and time again why you shouldn’t.”

He steals some popcorn from your bowl, tossing it up into the air. It successfully lands in his mouth.

“Besides. I’ve come this far without anyone, but Wayne’s, help. And I turned out fine.”

You glare at him.

“Couple scrapes and bruises,” he continues, alluding to his scuffle with Billy. “But I’m fine.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Eddie offers you a look.

“What, you think I’m bluffing?”

“No,” the pitch in your voice heightens. “I just think…a healed person would let a little love in.”

Then those sad doe eyes meet you again, the kind of gaze that would cause anyone to go weak in the knees. You swallow hard.

“Please be patient with me,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m really trying.”

“I know you are,” you rub his arm. “We don’t have to rush into anything.”

You both lean into each other again, the need to have and be with each other a palpable energy between your torsos. You beam up at him as you run your fingers down his hair.

“I am ready for something though,” Eddie proposes. “I’d like to keep whatever this is going.”

“I’d like that too,” you heart begins to flutter.

You picture yourself grocery shopping at Meijer with Eddie. He’d push for you to buy desserts, but you’d remind him that he needs veggies in his life. You see yourselves going to the pumpkin patch as autumn approaches and taking goofy Polaroids by the scarecrows. And it’s like he’s already in front of you on Christmas, his tongue poking out slightly — like it always does when he’s deeply focused on something — as he fixates on making his gingerbread house a gingerbread home. And when the ball drops on New Year’s Eve, he is going to be your kiss, dipping you like the one sailor did with the nurse in that one iconic picture of the world war being over. And then you two would recreate that same pose when you take him back home to experience a San Diego summer.

A romance for the books.

“Just…sex and quickies all the time!” Eddie speaks, instantly yanking you out of your daydream. “Smoking together…asking each other about our day…cuddling, in the nude…”

Suddenly, Eddie’s cock-blocked himself with his fantasy that he revealed to you. The familiar tinge in your chest returns again.

“Oh…hooking up is what you meant,” you nod.

“Duh, what else?”

You swallow hard again. So now you know what this is all about. You know now what he really saw when he looked at you.

“So… just purely sex. I gotcha.”

“Whoa, don’t put it like that,” Eddie grimaces. “It sounds bad. We’ll get to the titles eventually, I just gotta dip my toes in first.”

“I don’t want you dipping any of you in anything,” you glare at him with disgust. “Sorry but for a while I thought you liked me for me.”

“I do, Shy Girl,” Eddie insists. “I’m just not ready for titles yet. We literally just got done talking about that.”

“Oh, but you wanna keep me around as a fuck doll, that’s it?”

“Don’t act like you don’t have needs yourself…” he protests.

“Yeah and Steve is meeting those needs,” you hiss. “The reason I’m bouncing between you guys is because Steve is my fuck buddy, but I’m willing to let him go if you want to be exclusive with me. Which I don’t get why you won’t call it exclusive if that’s theoretically the case.”

But should’ve known Eddie only saw you as a booty call. You two hang out at nighttime, flirt, and touch each other too often for that to not be a case. And, of course, when something else catches his eyes, Eddie moves on and simply pays you no mind.

“I thought you saw this going somewhere,” you scoff as you cross your arms. “Beyond a mattress and the back of your van.”

“I thought I saw this going somewhere too,” Eddie shrugs bitterly. “But now that you mention it, someone who is always questioning my intentions without letting me explain myself doesn’t deserve the title anyways.”

Could Eddie stomp on your heart any more?

Did he just expect you to wait around for him? Did he expect you to run around with ‘Reserved For Eddie’ while he decided how much of himself to give you on whatever day? None of it is fair. But Eddie doesn’t play fair. He just calls the shots, as always.

And to think the two of you would come to any sort of compromise tonight.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Hargr-”

“Good…night… Eddie.”

“The power you’re supplying… it’s electrifying.”

Defeated, you end up excusing yourself from the rest of movie night and lugging yourself to your room. Max is in the room too, a huge surprise considering John Travolta was metaphorically a room over.

“Oh she is cuuute,” Max raves.

She’s talking about the red lingerie set from Nocturna, you realize when you drag your feet into your room.

“Thanks,” you shrug sheepishly, taking the set back from jet. “Eddie bought it for me to wear actually.”

You take the set in your hands and smooth it out just a little. It’s such a pretty set. Now it’s just collecting dust, a shame because you loved how amazing you looked and felt in it.

“Why don’t you wear it to Hellfire?” Max suggests. “I’m sure Henry would love it if you did for his dance in a couple days.”

“You want me to wear it for Henry?” you scoff. “That’s a no. Eddie doesn’t wanna see me wearing that specific set for anyone else but him.”

“Hmmm,” Max thinks. “We’re talking about the same Eddie. Right? Eddie ‘Non-Committal’ Munson?”

You smirk. She smirks. Your sister is a genius.

If Eddie truly doesn’t want to commit to you and make you his, then there is no need for you to commit to him either.

And the DEVIL WOMAN set is clearly no exception. There’s no need for a hot outfit like that to go to waste.

“I’m picking up what you’re putting down…” you grin, a rather wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing grin.

Max rubs her evil little fingers together. “Figured you might.”

“TELL ME ABOUT IT!” you two hear Robin and Vicky yell from their room. “STUD!”

And ‘You’re The One That I Want’ starts blaring through the speakers.

Its a shame that you and Max were missing your favorite part of the entire movie. But you two have your own revenge plot in the works.

And you, you’ve got your own dance number to practice. A dance for the One that you want. In this case, it’s Henry.

“You better shape up because I need a man. And my heart is set on you.”

Oh Eddie…

Let the mental gymnastics begin.

—————————

author's note: when eddie goes low, shy girl goes lower…. do you guys think eddie will be mad seeing shy girl dancing for henry in the red set he bought her? 🤔😈

—————————

🏷️ tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxps i , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron

[thisdudedoesntexist]

So I had a dream about a helluva boss and danny phantom crossover with a little dc in it so keep scrolling if you just want dpxdc or don't like spectral owl (danny Fenton x Octavia goetia). Also for some context only Loona and Octavia know about danny being phantom and the ghost king. Its also incomplete cause I can't remember the rest, so feel free to add on.

Stolas (the wiki said 30's so he's 35): red

Danny 19: green

Octavia 18: purple

Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors

Stolas had be trying for MONTHS. Two whole-MONTHS to bring his daughter back. Everyone else was trying to distract him with placateions like a funeral and time to grieve. To tare him away from what he knows he saw!!

Stolace: "Oh Octavia, only 18 and just over a year into dating that Daniel Fenton, that normal boy was one of the best things to happen to her even if it earth and hell was a rather long distance relationship. He couldn't even speak at the funeral, he was just sitting there stiff as a corps staring as the closed casket (Satan, there wasn't even a body). If that dammed, and now dead executioner hadn't gotten so careless she would have never disappeared- JUST DISAPPEARED in that flash of green light!"

But no matter! He had been researching and researching for days and nights on end (my, Blitzo's attempts to make him sleep were tempting). He had-despite the protests of some of his family found a tome, one book on summoning himself the Ghost King's castle, more like Pariah dark's current location but thats irrelevant. If legends of his exploits and one of his advisors mastery of chronomancy are to be believed he could bring his daughter back.

He has it all set up and he will be doing soon, he just needs to wait for the sacrifice to arrive (an exorbitant amount of gold coins and a sword thats taken at least 100 lives).

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

Danny has been having a great two months.

Ok so there was a bit of worry when he had to save his girlfriend from that rogue executioner angel by teleporting her to his castle (thank the ancients that Octavia and their friend situationship loona were so acceptingof that, you have no idea what being told by your parents that they were going to "Rip you apart molecule by molecule!" Does to a former fourteen year old. He still has a little panic attack when people ask him if he knows phantom.)

After explaining what happened and telling her about the "Non Ecto-material returnal laws" he's been working on with his advisors (ghost friends) he and Octavia have essentially been having an extended sleep over. Danny's been showing her around all the cool places in his castel like the garden of dangerous extinct plants, the throne room (An abrupt visit from the teen titans cause Trigon was about to appear on earth.), and the recreational center that was built after Danny discovered why pariah went mad.(That crown had been beaming him with the suffering screams of his subjects and he couldn't do anything about it). Speaking of the rec-center, he and his Moon (Octavia) had an appointment with the former tyrant where is she?

Danny: "Octavia! My moon where are you!"(He starts in a casual flight speed down the halls towards the guest room his girlfriendhad been staying in). "Via~" he says in the way he always does when he's being intentionally stupid. "Where are you my darling?" while his voice is sweet he's grinning like the experienced menace to society he is. "Its almost time to go annoy the old man!"

This earns him a blob ghost plushy to the face while Octavia "the smartest person in the world in Danny's opinion" chuckles at his mock-suffering.

Octavia: "Stop it you sound like my dad! Who would want to date such an nerdy guy?" (her, apparently) "And yes we should get going before Janice (Danny's secretary with an obsession with office management) starts eating her clipboard."

As they are walking down the hallways and corridors Octavia speaks "Don't you have that meeting with Constantine later?"

"Right, forgot about that." (The laughing magician had been checking up on him through bi-weekly attempts to "scam him into making choices that wouldn'tjust benefit ghosts.") "Should probably ask him to help set up a meeting between me and your dad so we can finally get you home next week."

"Thank Satan I can sit in my own bed again soon!"

"Huh?!" Danny says in a pretend offense that doesn't reach even his face. "Sick of me already? Have I not been a good host?" He wipes a phantom tear (get it?) from his eye. Earning a laugh from the other.

Honestly, what could go wrong today.

[lucrativesoul]

Divine Beings

summary: your new job at the town's old mansion-museum is a dream, but it's even more so to be working within its centuries old library. this building is fueled by the ancient lore of the undead walking the halls. it's all just tales, right? your archive master and new boss, Leon, knows all about those divine beings.

pairing: leon kennedy x female reader

word count: 13.0k

warnings: smut, borderline public sex (no voyeurism), blood ingestion

a/n: i can't begin to tell you guys how excited i am to be posting this. consider this my halloween gift, but we all know the darker genres are not just for the season! I had so much fun writing this. diving head first into this has really helped me through this rough time in my life situationships are hell and if no one got me at least leon got me :') (and u guys ofc) thank you so much for stopping by and reading, i really really hope you enjoy, and I promise to be back soon with another one. <3

“It won’t be too much of a challenge.” The soft voice coming from the woman in front of you bounced off the walls and high ceilings, making her even harder to decipher than she was in the first place. “All questions about the archive can be redirected to the master archivist, and I’m sure sooner or later you will be retaining all of that important information.”

You said nothing as you followed her down the hall, the click of your heels ever prominent amongst the deserted expanse. For a mansion built hundreds of years ago, they did well to keep it tidy and up to standard. You were impressed.

At the end of the long hall, yellow from the lamps glittering in intervals in the hall, you could see a grand set of large mahogany doors, intricately carved with inlays that you can only imagine must have taken just as long to complete as the residence itself. The initial nerves of the morning were gone, and now you were just more excited than anything to be able to enter one of the oldest libraries in a hundred mile radius, and now you work here. 

The smaller lady who was guiding you, whose name you have already forgotten, leaned all her weight on the doors and pushed both of them inward, the two slabs of wood swinging open revealing possibly your most anticipated sight of your life.

The entryway was one tiny landing, with large staircases birthing off the sides to your left and right, making a gentle curve to the main floor. The walls, well, simply put, there were no walls, rather everything that would have been a wall was lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, each one packed with differing widths, heights, colors of books, paperback, leather, hardcover, fabric. In the middle of the room were more free standing shelves, still packed to the brim, and the occasional long wooden table with seats scattered about the room. Directly opposite the entryway was a large window, facing the front of the mansion, and it served as the main attractor to the building. Rectangular at the bottom, it shaped off at the top, nearly fifty feet high, in a gothic style pointed arch, nestled gently in between two, much skinnier, similarly shaped windows, which were fixed off at the top with stained glass, giving the brown room rays of color on the sunny days.

You stepped forward, and having seemingly expected this reaction, your guide didn’t say a word for a moment while you took in your grand view. You almost couldn’t speak. It was more than you were expecting. It was everything.

Though it was a sunny day, you already found yourself anticipating the oncoming bad weather, knowing the treacherous drive through the rain would be so worth it to be here on a rainy day.

“Let’s go down to the archive office.” The woman’s tone was gentle, knowing you most likely would not have moved from your spot if she didn’t push you along. You followed her down the left staircase.

There were a few stragglers in the grand room. The manion’s open hours were not near close yet, but you were surprised there weren’t more people here at this hour. You doubted that it had anything to do with the age old rumors about the estate, there was no way people truly kept away because of those tall tales. 

After coming off the staircase, you craned your neck up high, reveling in the surrounding papers and scrolls adorning the walls. You tried your best to keep up with the woman while also having your attention diverted, but had to fully look down when she ducked into a corridor below the main landing. 

This hallway was plain and simple, and you felt your resolve slowly crumble away as you remembered why you were here–a job. 

“The furthest of my knowledge is to bring you into the archive office and wait for the master archivist to meet you here. If you want to take a seat, he should be here shortly. Welcome to the museum crew.” She smiled at you, and after a thank you, you pulled out the seat in front of the desk and sat down. Alone in the room now, you turned your head to look at the surroundings, trying to gauge what type of environment this would be.

Despite your history in the field, you were still surprised when you got a call back wanting to have an interview, and when that went well and you were hired a week later, shock still warmed your body, paired with the growing excitement when you realized you would be working in the epicenter of your old town’s rich history museum and archive, and the home of all the town’s tall tales.

With all your years of studying classic literature spinning the yarn of mythical creatures, it was a no brainer when you saw this opportunity present itself. 

You jumped in your chair when your name was spoken in a low rasp. You turned around briskly.

“I’m sorry, you startled me.” You stood in an instant, extending your hand, ready to introduce yourself, but it appeared the stranger already knew who you were.

“It’s alright, many say I have that effect.” You sat down at his gesture to do so, and he walked around the opposite side of the bland, deep wooden desk. This man, instantly captivating, wore a simple white button down with a crisp black vest over top. He had a wiry pair of glasses tucked into the collar, where the top button lay opened. His hair was a dirty blonde, browning at the roots. The sharp contours of his face showed years of experience, and you caught no air of uncertainty from the way he presented himself. Intrigued would be an understatement.

“Did our lobby host introduce you well? I know one walk down the foyer isn’t nearly a fraction of the time needed to look around, but, maybe it gave a taste to what’s to come.”

You nodded gently, your eyes still trained on his face. “Oh, yes, she most definitely let me take it in for a moment. I can’t wait to know everything better.”

He nodded, shifting through a folder and some papers. You were almost embarrassed at how you couldn’t take your eyes away from him, not even for a second, hoping the staring would come second to whatever information he was about to share with you. 

“What drew you here? It’s quite tucked away.” He was still not looking at you, so you made no move to avert your own gaze.

“Well,” You began, taking a second to form a proper sentence. “I’ve always wanted to work in a grand archive like this one. It is just so full of new opportunities, new experiences. I’ve always loved this place.”

He nodded. “I felt the same as well. I wish I could tell you how swelled I was when I walked in here the first time, but it was so long ago, I barely remember it. Anyway,” He studied the paper intensely, then looked back up at you. You felt heated suddenly. “You had a pretty extensive background in literary culture, criticism, and classic studies. You were with a publishing branch for a few years?”

You nodded. “It didn’t pan out to my hopes, and I jumped at this chance when I saw they were on the hunt for a new archivist.”

He hummed. “I was. I was looking for someone new. Our last had left us suddenly, we had a vacancy.” You nodded again, the innate curiosity taking over about the ex-archivist. “So, you understand the majority of your job title, yes?” Nodded again, but said nothing so he could continue. “Basically, working side by side with me, the better half of our tasks will unfortunately be rearranging once the public comes through, they tend to leave things everywhere, I’m sure you know, and the other half is once our doors are closed, we do many of the repairs on the classics, restocking our souvenir books, and the tedious paperwork that comes along with the museum establishment.”

For a final time, you nodded. “I’m greatly looking forward to it.” 

Now, he looked into your eyes, and he tilted his head gently forward. “I’m greatly looking forward to you joining us. As of right now, it’s just me and one other, so now it’s three.”

You smiled, then it faltered a moment once you remembered something. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if you said your name.”

His lopsided grin painted a picture in your mind that you knew you would be seeing even when you closed your eyes. “Leon Kennedy. Master archivist.”

–

You hadn’t imagined you would live to see a day when you were looking forward to stepping into your place of work, but this had proven you wrong. You were motivated by the mere thought of being surrounded by all the books and pages, all the knowledge you could possibly dream about, learning something new every day.

But, you knew secretly since starting, you would be lying to yourself if you denied the effect that Leon had on your willingness to come in everyday. He greeted you with gentleness, and you couldn't help but always match his energy when you walked into the office in the morning hours. Always spotting the grin on his face at the sight of you as well. It grew to a blazing heat in your chest to see this reaction.

There was a routine you followed with great ease after only a week. It truly was the most of what Leon had said it would be, and to your own surprise, when curious visitors asked about the archive’s collections, you picked up on the correct answers faster than you had expected.

One of your favorite end of day tasks, oddly enough, was replacing the books that visitors had taken off the shelves to browse. It exposed you to so much literature and titles that you had or hadn’t heard of, and gave you a better idea of the archive itself, and its shelf locations. There was nothing more relaxing in your life than admiring the centuries of artform adoring these bookcases.

Here, you found yourself sliding leather bounds back into their places, reveling at every cover for as long as you could get away with, feeling the slick material slide under your fingers as you pushed them into their homes on the shelves. Taking two steps forward, looking down at the engraving in the cover, embossed in golden letters, you startle when you knock into something hard, grip hardening on the book so as not to drop or damage it.

“I’m so sorry, Leon. I didn’t even hear you coming. Very quiet.” He looked down at you, his deep black shirt sucking the color out of everything around him. An amused expression danced on his features.

“So people have told me. I was trying to find you earlier for a question, but you’ve eluded me for the last thirty minutes.”

You smiled gently, but had to avert your eyes down to the books you were still caressing, lest your eyes should wander over the fabric stretched thin over his upper arms. You did not need this mental image lasting with you for who knows how long.

“Sorry for that, but, here I am. What’s up?” 

Leon, so you have come to the conclusion, is much different than any overseer of a job you have had in the past. HIs gentle authoritative style pushed you in the correct direction he wanted you to take as an archive employee, but he never became harsh or strict with any of his guidelines. In fact, the way he approached conversation felt much more like a casual coworker rather than a boss. 

“I had an opportunity you may be interested in. Finish your tasks here, and come up to my office. We can discuss it, I think you’ll be intrigued.”

You nodded, but grabbed his attention quickly at the notice of a small piece of information. “Wait, Leon,” He turned around at the sound of his name. “Your office? I don’t know where that is, I don't think I have been there yet.”

He nodded slowly. “Of course, I forgot. I’ll wait over by the information desk for you to finish. Don’t rush.” 

You nodded, though he had already turned around. You took an extra second to trace his path with your gaze, wondering what this tight, breathless feeling in your chest was every time he was in your presence. 

With empty hands, you stalked over to the center of the room, finding Leon’s back to you, hands shuffling through a stack of folders. He disregarded them when he heard you approach.

“Follow me.” Then, with a small impressed gesture on his face, “Faster than I expected.”

You said nothing as you followed him through the library, watching his back intently as if something were going to happen any second. Surely he could feel the way you were staring, how could he not? If this were you, you would have felt someone looking all over you.

He presented you to a discreet door tucked into the back wall of the archive, a mere few feet away from the large windows, now letting the dying sunset light in to paint the room orange. He stepped aside to let you in first, but what you were expecting to see was nowhere in sight. Instead of an office, a room, even a closet with a desk, chair, and maybe even a computer, it was a staircase. A spiral staircase at that, and it looked like it went up at least thirty feet.

“Your office is up there?” You couldn't help but ponder out loud while staring listlessly, yet amazed, above. You heard him snicker behind you.

“It is. How could I not have taken that one when presented to me? Go on. They won’t get any shorter.”

You shook your head to snap yourself out of the sudden daze, and carefully took the steps. This location was painfully plain compared to the rest of the archive, and part of you understood why, but also wished you had something to look at on the way up.

The tall, dark, wooden door presented in front of you looked like an import from the homes of the finest wood slabs of ebony, intricate carvings on each of the inlays. Not even the doors of the archive looked like this, it seemed such a waste to be hidden up these stairs, guarding Leon's private office. Maybe he personally requested this door to be here. What an interesting design choice, if so.

You pushed it open, not waiting for further instruction as there would have been nothing else to do. This office held far more personality than the one you were used to seeing on the ground floor, and you were positive you could spend just as many hours dissecting the shelves in this little room as you could on the main exhibit.

It was clear this room was built out of what might have been a buttress back in the gothic ages, the ceiling was high, circular and pointed, raw wooden beams were exposed to support the cone roof above you. The shelves were rounded, contrasted with the straight edge ones below. Books that looked as old as the dawn of time were cluttered on these shelves, a thought that almost made you panic, the treatment of them would make their casings fall off their backs faster than usual.

Leon didn’t miss any of your observations. “These are from a collection that I couldn’t possibly put down on the main floor, obviously they have seen better days. They don’t need more of the public’s touch to wither them even further.”

You swallowed, and forced yourself to face him. He was taking a seat in a grand maroon velvet desk chair. Even that looked ornate. “Aren’t you worried handling them like this is even worse?”

He gestured at the seat in front of the desk, then shook his head. He spoke only when you sat down. “They have been with me for years, I know how they behave by now.”

You had nothing to say in return, so you simply affixed your gaze onto his, waiting to hear the reason he brought you up here.

“You’ve found a passion in this place, I can tell.” His voice was low, and it made you shiver. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone treat this place like a living entity.”

“It feels alive…” You started, but had no way to finish. He was drawing the words right from your mind. 

“I do believe so as well. What brought you here? Besides what you studied making this a readily available opportunity.”

You looked down for a moment. Truthfully, it was a little childish why you were here. You knew that much and you could at least admit that to yourself. But, could you admit that to Leon? It had turned out that you loved this place as much as you would love a home you had been in for years, this place never became a burden to walk into, and you doubted that it would ever become that. You didn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting to hear from you, but Leon could be trusted. You knew that well enough by this point. He expressed his gratitude to your presence to the archive many times and surely, don’t you owe him the truth for that?

“To be honest with you…” You started tentatively. His face showed no shift in expression. “I have loved this place since I was a child. Something about it, maybe the aura, drew me to it. That’s why I think I feel it… why it feels so alive to me.” He nodded, not interrupting your thoughts. “This town’s folklore is something I loved for all my life.”

This time, he closed his eyes and nodded slowly, as if finally understanding why you had come here. And, he did, as that once sentence, you knew, would explain to any local why you chose this mansion. This archive.

“Maybe that’s silly of me,” You shook your head at yourself slightly. “But I think I owe it to the child who directed my path in life.”

He smiled at you, no sense of mockery on his face. “Let me ask you this, though,” You sat still, waiting. “Do you believe?”

You did not need to think this time. “Yes. I do.”

Leon leaned back in his chair and let his forearms lay on the armrests by his sides. “I think you are wise for that. Many choose to stop believing in folklore once they hit such an age where they know stories from historical recounts, but, don’t you think the two meld together at some point?”

You nodded. “I have always believed in that. And as soon as I stepped in here… the minute I came here to get this job, and even as a child, when I saw this place, I knew the stories were true. There’s no way that this place doesn’t have its hidden secrets.”

“Hidden in plain sight. Everyone talks of the vampire roaming the halls.” Leon added.

You quirked a smile– you couldn't help it. “What’s not to believe about that? I can feel it when I'm here.”

Leon nodded, his smile not fading. After this conversation, you knew you made the right choice in choosing to trust Leon. How could you not?

“People are drawn here on the idea that they will spot him somewhere, but look far too closely. They think every staff member could be him in disguise. They look down every dark hallway wishing to see him slinking around the corner, trying to hide. They look in every window from the outside, thinking he is hiding from the sun. But, there comes the melding, and the separating of truth and fiction. Why should he be doing those things, because they believe it to be true, or because they were told to believe it?”

You had nothing to say to this at first. You knew Leon would be holding a plethora of information on the mansion-museum’s lore as being home to the city's resident vampire from centuries ago. You couldn’t consume enough information on the idea, and yet, Leon still stunned you with what he had to say about it, simply because he had been here to see the behavior of those who believe in him. You wished he would keep talking about it, but knew that the premonition of a mythical being lurking the hallways was probably not the reason he brought you up here to talk about in the first place.

“Your candor is appreciated here.” He held his smile, and his eyes were sincere along with his spoken words. The windows didn’t allow an incredible amount of light into the room, the lamp sitting by his side on the desk casting a yellow haze over the space, the red lampshade drenching everything above in a blood tint. Even through this distortion, you could see how blue his irises were. Icy. A tingle ran across the skin of your arms.

“Now, for what you are actually up here for.” He broke the gaze, and you involuntarily released a sigh of relief. Looking down at his desk, in nothing in particular, you noticed there was nothing of importance on its surface, he continued. “Every so often, for no reason other than to bring variety in, we have a few shelves in the center of the floor that we rearrange to bring in new displays, or to shift the attention to something else.” You nodded, and you were sure you knew he was going to ask for your assistance in moving everything. You didn't mind. “Right now the table has displays of books on the history of witchcraft and others of the sort, quite fitting for the upcoming season, but quite the insult to the monument they’ve decided to promote within.” He sighed. You couldn’t help but smile. “But, I think we can get even better.”

“I have ideas. I think I could help with this.”

Leon smiled wider. A gesture he doesn't often show to the general patronage. It made you feel warm. “That’s what I was hoping you would say. Now, though, an unfortunate part.” He sighed, and his smile disappeared. More shivers took place in your body of the heat. “I would prefer it to be done by the end of this week, and because the mighty institution is using the Halloween season to promote museum ticket sales,” Another sigh. “They’ve extended our opening hours. Now, we, as the archive, do have the liberty to close our area before they close the museum’s doors, but I've been strongly advised against doing so.”

You nodded again, listening. He shrugged, looking at you, as if waiting for an input you didn’t know you should give. You squeaked out an agreement.

“I would like to shift two days of your hours to overnight. Would that be a problem?”

“It’s not. This is my full time job now, so I'm at your expense.”

He chuckled softly at your words. “Not an expense, just… assistance.”

Nonetheless, even if Leon did agree to your words of expense, you would be agreeing. He told you the guidelines, don’t come in for the day shifts, just come in for the nighttime. He handed over a key, an old, brass one that he told you would unlock the large archive doors after hours. You agreed with no hesitation, of course.

You had discovered soon after this, that fear could exist in the same plane as excitement. Really, isn’t fear just an overwhelming excitement of something unknown? Standing in front of the mansion, you craned your neck as far back as your body would allow. The looming building was dark, save for a few spotlights, but other than that, it was as dead as the night around you. The suspicious lack of insect and animal life noises was eerie, but you swallowed that lump of nerves, and walked up to the front.

As Leon instructed you, flashing your badge to the night guards let you right through, and you followed the path you have come to know so well that led right to the archive doors. 

It was a strange aura that surrounded you, one that made you hesitate briefly before unlocking, and relocking yourself inside. The air was so still, and that life you felt pulsing through the corridors on a daily basis was missing now. There was nothing, no one, no noise to fill your ears, so the blood pumping through was your only solace now. Before you could sit on this any longer and unease yourself further, you moved on.

The lock slid cleanly into place, and the resounding click that was heard resonated throughout the hall. You pushed the door open, wanting to get away from any undead lurking eyes that may be watching you. 

Not turning to shut the door behind you, you stared out into the vast expanse of the dark archive. The shelves were still, though shadows flitted in between them as if dancing with the moonlight. Every time you blinked, dark figures appeared at the edge of your vision, teasing your brain, making a shudder do its rounds throughout your nervous system. Though you loved this place, the nighttime gave it a whole new personality you weren’t sure you were quite ready to uncover. 

Turning to your right, you flipped the first two lightswitches, casting a spotlight down onto the center of the floor, and one at the door where you stood. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you turned back around.

“Leon!” You cried out.

Said man was in the center of the floor, as if coming out to greet you like it was the middle of the day. He had on a white button down, the first two loose around his neck, and his hair falling lazily over the left side of his forehead. It took even longer for your breath to still.

“You’re here?” You gasped out.

“Yes, I was wondering when you would get here. I guess you are right on schedule, though.” You carefully fled down the stairs, not taking your eyes off Leon, curious if he would disappear again. 

“Here with all the lights off? How could you see?” He didn’t answer your question until you were now face to face with him, having placed your belongings on the staircase, figuring you would not be spending much time in the office.

He shrugged slowly. “You get used to it after a while. There’s something about this place at night, I don’t get many chances to enjoy it with only myself.” You said nothing to this, just trying to digest his logic. There was no point in arguing it.

“Well, we should probably get started then?” He smiled softly at your words and flung instructions at you, making the night go by as if you were asleep through it all. 

With half of the display moved, Leon had stalked away to the main office, and you cleaned up the floor to pass until he let the both of you out. Standing next to the tall shelves, facing the window, you almost started to understand what Leon had said earlier. There is something about the place at night.

You had never thought you would get to experience that, though, of course. What other chance would you be wandering throughout these aisles all alone at night, with all the lights off? You were curious now, and jealous that Leon had been the one to experience that, and you might not ever.

You walked slowly towards the window, the lights behind you fading the further you went from them. Your fingertips grazed the edges of the shelves you walked along, as if picking up all the information held on them in one little touch. The night looked cold from where you stood, and you almost felt the temperature on your skin in that instant. The moon was full and bright, and it lit up your skin like the lights now behind you. Though these walls were thick and with plenty of objects in the room to muffle the sound, it could not drown out the roaring chorus of crickets perched in every branch right outside the glass. The chirps matched the beating of your heart, and soon the rush of blood was replaced by the insects' whispers, a cacophony of life, your vessel was the audience.

You saw yourself in the glass. Your skin lit up by the moon's graces, the hollows of your face carved out in deep shadows, you became painted into the history within these mansion walls, and you looked as if you always belonged. Eternal.

“The moon is bright.” 

You gasped and startled again, turning swiftly to see Leon peering over your shoulder, looking at the same illusive mirror that you were. “You should stop doing that Leon, I’m going to have a heart attack one of these days.” You breathed out a laugh. 

“I thought I was obvious enough, but I suppose not.” He looked past you back into the window again. “The moonlight makes you look marvelous.”

Your stomach twisted. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, and couldn't help but turn back around to look again, and dare you say, you agreed. Your airbrushed skin, even flawless in the reflection of the glass, a gentle chiaroscuro against the vast emptiness behind you. Except for–

“Full moon nights are when I feel the most company here. I think she wants to be alive here as well.” You turned again, seeing Leon having unmoved from directly behind you. The cool blue light sitting atop his cheekbones, highlighting strands of blonde hair, contrasting the blaze of his hazel eyes, which were unrelenting on you. He, too, was a relief sculpture under the coalescence of the moon and the shadows. Where was his portrait to be viewed next to yours?

“Yeah, I… I agree now.” Though you felt a shiver crawl through you, you couldn’t make yourself turn around again to look. Your body was preventing you from doing so. Simply, you could only walk past Leon, back onto the main floor.

The ride home along in your car proved no more solace than you were hoping. You could see the silhouette of the mansion grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, and it felt like departing from a friend who did nothing but tell all their troubles. It was hard to believe how quickly your image of the place shifted, though, you still felt so drawn, and so attracted to the premises. And, not to mention, the man within its walls.

What you saw puzzled you. Simply, it had been a trick of the light. You knew that there was no way the light from the moon was able to reach every point of the floor, so he was standing in the shadow. But, how had he approached so silently? Leon was always so silent. This wasn’t the first time the man has snuck up on you. A few others have said he gives them a fright as well, but it seems to happen to you much more often.

Leon was an enigma, in more ways than one. He spoke in riddles, or it felt like it. You read plenty of classics in your time studying literature, and it was as if he had taken his vocabulary straight from works published a century ago. With a borderline transatlantic accent, it always took you a moment to decipher his sentences. It wasn’t as if he read too many of the classics, it was like he came from one. 

As silly as the idea might sound to others, you believed it fully. It was just a tall tale from times past, warning people of a monster that didn’t exist. They kept the legend going to fuel tourism and sell museum tickets, but some still believed, and one of those some was you. You felt this answer in your heart fully and truly, and while it scared you to a degree, it awoke an excitement as never before felt in you. That almost scared you more.

There was no way that Leon wasn’t the vampire roaming the halls of the old mansion and archive.

His aura was one you had never felt in a person before. You have been attracted to people in the past, but you never felt someone so physically radiant that it was almost tangible. His gaze cut right through you like the sharpest knife, bringing a stinging trail along your skin as well as the burning desire to feel it again. It was undeniable, you had never felt such an insane attraction to someone you barely knew, yet, knowing that plus your newfound discovery, which you fully believed in, you wanted to dive headfirst into this unknown territory to explore. 

All day this weighed on your mind. You couldn’t rid Leon’s image from your thoughts. You couldn’t deny, even without the personality that occupied your thoughts, he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He was picturesque in form, a painting made by the most skilled hands. You were ashamed to admit, only slightly, that you were dying to know more about the maps of his body. He always hid under button up shirts, but none that were ever too big that you couldn’t tell he had large biceps, most of the time the sleeves rolled up so the veins in his forearm protruded with movement. The sight always made your mouth dry.

You had to assume, only based on these facts, that he must have been fit, and if he was, which you had no doubt of, paired with his stunning profile, you weren’t sure how you made it so far into this job without making an attempt to pass out in his arms.

As expected, you could think of nothing else leading up to the hours you had to join him back for the second overnight shift. You honestly forgot the whole purpose of you going at this time, all of that having been pushed to the side in favor of thinking of the man in charge of the place. You were nervous, yet anticipated your arrival, hoping to gain more clues to back up your (unwavering, in your mind) hypothesis.

The guards let you in without the flash of your badge. You slinked quietly through the main hall, footsteps bouncing off of every surface. There wasn’t a soul in sight, yet you felt life all over your body. 

The key slid into the lock with ease, and the tell tale clink of the turn mechanism followed.

“Leon?” Your voice echoed through the archive as you shut the door behind you. The lights were off, once again.

You bound down the steps, dropping your belongings on the same stair as the previous night. This time, instead of heading right to the center of the floor to converge with Leon, you stood still on the last step.

“Leon?” You asked again after the man did not do his magical appearance trip at your entry. You felt a cold chill run over your skin. Now, you feel more alone than before. For the first time since becoming involved in the archive, the aisles and books were more sinister than inviting, and every dark corner had a spirit watching you.

You slowly left the stair you held solace on, and walked forward into the center of the room. It felt like every shelf and spine were staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to make a wrong move. You wanted to get to work, but you could barely will yourself back up the stairs to the lightswitch. You looked around again as if begging for help from a bystander who was not there.

There was a sudden shift in the air. You weren’t sure now if it was real or if you were hallucinating, but you felt a constricting sensation in your chest, and you felt not alone anymore. Leon was nowhere in sight, but you knew someone else was here.

Suddenly, you couldn’t take it anymore. The silence was enveloping you like a thick rope, and your breath was coming out sloppy. You had to leave.

You took one step backwards and hit a wall behind you. You yelped, not remembering stepping anywhere else besides the center of the room. You turned, and nearly jumped higher out of your body at the sight of what, or who, was behind you.

“You were down here with the lights off. Is something wrong or are you trying out my methods?”

Leon stood before you, in his usual uniform of a white button down shirt and black pants. His hair looked longer tonight, not pushed back with gel, but soft waves were falling across his face, pushed aside to let his sculpted face show through. Here, in the dark, he was much more brooding than he could have ever come across during your typical shifts. That gaze was not the friendly one you had seen in times past.

“No, no I just…” You swallowed, the words falling right out of your mouth. “I thought you would be here. Well, you are, now, but…” You gestured behind you, still feeling the presence of non-existent bodies. 

Leon slowly nodded at your words, not moving towards you, but you felt his presence getting closer. 

“I have been here. I was in the office.” He gestured behind him lazily, to the office you were used to frequenting as an employee. The door was closed.

You shook your head. “I didn’t hear you, though.” You looked again at the door, and when you looked back into his eyes, he knew what you were thinking. He was lying, and he knew you knew that. 

“You know I’m quiet.” His tone felt like a surge straight from your head to your feet, rooting you into place no matter how much you urged your brain to send movement to your limbs.

“Well…” You pushed words out of your throat. “I guess let’s finish this, then.” You broke eye contact and finally felt your body moving forward, but you knew he was still looking at you. You could feel it. 

The moon, if it were even possible, was even brighter this night. It’s full face projected into the windows like a spotlight, and once you were able to put your body into motion and further the project of moving book displays, you barely paid note of how Leon never turned the lights on for the both of you. Maybe he could see perfectly well.

It was nearing one in the morning at this point, and you had one last stack to move. You made gentle conversation with Leon throughout, refusing to put on a strange facade solely off of your own thoughts. He reverted back to his normal state, though normal is a generous word to use for a man like Leon. 

You walked back to the table being used to house books while they are moved, and picked up the last stack. Bram Stoker, Dracula.

This made you snap your head up. You were sure this hadn’t been on the list set to display, yet, here it was. You looked around, trying to search out Leon to question him about this last minute addition. But, as expected, you realized, he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, you don't remember what he was doing last.

“Leon?” You looked back over to the office door, still closed. You would have heard if he went in there and closed it behind him. You put the stack of books down and walked (slowly, you now felt that desolate aloneness again) over to the back right corner, towards Leon’s private office.

You could not make yourself walk any quicker than the snail pace you currently set. It was odd, and you knew if you were afraid you should be walking faster, but for some reason, surrounded by these books and shelves, you felt as if the faster you moved, the quicker you would be caught. Caught by what? You couldn’t answer that question, yet the word suddenly appeared in your head to describe the situation.

You were distracted on the way to the back. You thought, again, you saw a drift of black smoke waft by as if it were another hallucination. You stopped in your tracks, heart in your throat. You shifted paths, only momentarily, you were now desperate to be back in the company of Leon, your supposed vampire master archivist.

The carpet below you muffled your footsteps, but still, you noticed they were loud enough to be heard, unlike how Leon had been appearing from behind you out of thin air. You almost had to squint as you walked by the windows, the moonlight a sudden burst of fireworks in contrast to the dim workspace you had been habiting. As expected, after leering around the corners, hoping to sneak up on the entity, there was nothing but empty space.

There was a light pattering at the window, and you turned your head to see the sky spitting down on you. The window, slowly becoming stained with raindrops, still held that brush stroked image of you, forever intertwined within the archive. It was a hypnotizing image, as if you no longer recognized yourself the more the rain came down. It was a comforting sound, the taps of the drops on the glass filling the void. It felt like another presence, and it calmed you down to a degree, as calm as you could allow yourself to get.

There was a creak from behind you, as if someone had opened a door, or stepped on a stair. You whipped back around, hoping to see Leon at this point, but still, he was nowhere to be seen. The room was still, everything untouched, but your eyes still scanned every crevice, convinced you were going to miss something if you weren’t careful. 

The rain was still sounding off behind you, and you could see the bending of the light as it cast onto the floor. It was the only thing moving. You were far too on edge now.

You turned back to the window…

“Leon!” You took a step back, now more afraid than surprised at his sudden appearance. “Where did you come from? I’ve been looking for you.” You took a huff, trying to catch your breath from his genuinely scaring you. He was standing in front of the window, the moon behind him casting into a deep silhouette, face barely available. 

“I’ve been here the whole time.” His voice was lower than before now, and you could barely piece together thoughts. He turned his head to the side, as if surveying the room that you were just inspecting. His eyes caught a glimpse of the light, and you saw the deep yellow in them. It sent a sudden pit to your stomach, and a memory to flash in front of your eyes.

The day he had taken you up to his office, and you spoke about the legends of the vampire, and why you were drawn to the house. You remember the look he gave you when he had said he appreciated your honesty. 

Leon had blue eyes that day. That color was nowhere to be seen now.

You swallowed, trying to moisten your mouth in order to speak. “No… no you weren’t. I looked for you. You disappeared. And you just came out of nowhere. What is going on with you, Leon?” As hard as you tried to suppress it, you heard the trembling sounds that came out of your mouth. It was audible that you were panicking, and he knew it. 

He stared at you for another moment. His arms were clasped behind his back. “What are you afraid of?”

The rumbling of his voice shot straight through you, to your dismay, and you forced all your composure together to face him without folding.

You gave him a once over, trying to find… something, that might give him away. What you were looking for exactly, you couldn’t say, but you couldn’t stare into his eyes any longer, especially having realized they were not the same eyes you saw a few days ago.

“You’re just… being odd, Leon.” You looked back into his eyes, or what you could see of them from underneath the shadows. Being this close to him, you felt like you were suffocating, and you needed air. “I would like to finish this now.”

You slowly side stepped him, Leon still unmoving in his position against the window. You sighed and turned your head, catching your rain-distorted reflection once again. It was you, a mirror image of someone suffering the same mystifying scenarios as you were in the present moment, standing ever alone against the bookshelves, not offering the comfort they usually do. 

You stopped short in your tracks and did a double take. Now your body was fully turned toward the window. 

Your reflection stared at you, looking just as perplexed as you did. Without shifting your eyes to the side, you saw the equally distorted reflection of the wooden shelves, illuminated under the lunar glow. You saw your empty hands, you saw the dark hallway behind you, and out of your peripheral vision you saw that Leon had not moved from his spot yet… yet you could not see him.

Leon was not present in the reflection. 

You could do nothing but stare in shock and slight horror as you watched the whole scene unfold. A part of you was now realizing, though you had put two and two together in the comfort and safety of your own home, now in the presence of the man and seeing the evidence with your own two eyes, your veins ran cold, and you could not will yourself to move. Not until Leon did.

He shifted, you couldn’t even turn your head to watch. Now he was out of any point of view you had, but you felt his presence press himself against your back, staring into the same image you were. It was the most disorienting experience, feeling Leon’s body behind you, yet not seeing him peering over your shoulder. It didn’t take an expert for him to know how you were feeling in this moment, and you were also sure he knew exactly what conclusion you had just come to.

“What are you thinking?” His deep voice presented itself directly in your ear, and you felt the featherlight graze of his lips on the shell. You could feel the strands of his hanging blonde waves hit your cheek, and while your eyes stung like you wanted to cry, a blaze set itself alight within your body at his proximity.

You could only shake your head slowly at first. “You…” You fumbled over your words, unable to take your eyes off of the glass. The mysterious image of only you and not the person directly behind you will forever be burned into memory. “What are you?”

You heard him inhale slowly. You felt the heat from his face lift away from yours, but it only moved up a fraction, his mouth now pressing closely into your hairline. 

“Don’t you know already? You’re a smart girl.” He was condescending with his words, most surely using what you had told him a few days ago against you now. All that talk you did about you believing the legend of the mansion’s vampire, yet here you were, standing right in front of him and refusing to say it out loud.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice was barely louder than a tremble. “You let me run my mouth like a fool in your office, and you didn’t even tell me that I was right this whole time.” Your tongue was so dry, speaking became a task. Your fingers were growing numb, but you still found it hard to move.

He snickered, and you felt the air from his breath fan your face. “And ruin the surprise? I’d much rather see the look on your face after you put it together yourself than having told you right then and there. There’s nothing I love more than when I see someone realize the reality of their convictions. Quite especially someone like you.”

You closed your eyes. It was all you could stand to do at this moment. You shot them back open, however, when you felt his broad hand at your back, pushing you forward, closer to the glass. 

Walking closer to the window with the rain now coming down steadily against it, he released where he had put his hand, but did not remove himself from your closeness. 

“What do you see?” 

He said nothing more, waiting for you to find the composure to be able to speak properly again. As hard as you tried to look past your bleary visage to the outside world, it was nearly impossible. It was dark as ever out there, the moon unrelenting in her radiance. 

After a few more seconds, “Myself.” You heard Leon hum from behind you. 

“And?” He egged you on.

You shook your head. “That’s it. I can see the moon. The rain.” Your voice grew softer, body relaxing slowly, but for what cause, you weren’t able to find. You involuntarily let out a low sigh when you felt the tips of his fingers crawl up the right side of your neck, settling on your jaw. He pushed your head to the side, enough to expose the canvas of flesh in the reflection.

“Curious… Don’t you think?” His hand flitted lower, raising a trail of goosebumps along the tender skin. A finger pressed inward, right underneath the crook of your jaw, feeling the pulse of your bloodstream. “How much of yourself you can see, the first thing you always notice, for the living must look and be vain.”

Chills spread quickly throughout your body. His hand felt shockingly warm, the opposite of what you would have expected from the typical vampirical lore. 

“You… you don’t know what you look like?” You whispered.

“How should I? I’m not able to unless someone lets me know, but even then, do I want to?”

You said nothing for a moment, trying to breathe through the weakness in your abdomen at his touch, which was still laid over the tender place on your throat.

“I’d like to think you still look the same as the day you stopped aging.” He hummed again at your words. Despite his remark of not knowing if he would like anyone to tell him what he looked like, he let you continue in your description. “You’re like a sculpture. Rough around the edges but so blended out, only made by hands whom the gods approved of.” His hand left your pulse, settling on the crook of your neck and shoulder, slightly squeezing. You couldn’t see, of course, but you felt that he still held his face close to yours. “You’d almost be better fitted walking the main halls as a work of art than hiding in these books.”

“That is very affirming to hear from a woman like you.” A breath of silence, then he continued. “You’ve always known, you always believed, and you know what I am. I’m quite drawn to you, I am long familiar with the feeling of someone who is covered in fear, it’s nowhere present on you.” He brought his lips down back to your ear, and you felt his left hand sneak around your waist. Your knees almost buckled. “You’re captivating… I cannot bring myself to keep things professional at all times.”

You were now, truly, at a loss for words, however he did not take your silence as resilience. The hand that was not around your waist was now pushing down the shoulder of your top, revealing the smooth skin. You shuddered again, letting your eyes close once more, and you gave in to the physical feelings over trying to rationalize anything verbally. 

“I can’t stand here and deny myself from trying to get to you any longer. I have to know… I must know…” His voice was a borderline growl in your ear now, and you shocked yourself with the smallest whimper that poured over your lips. It only fueled him. 

You were pushed forward by a sudden force from Leon, both hands coming up to brace yourself against the window. You were glad no one had ever turned the lights on, if any of the guards decided to walk the perimeter, surely you would have been seen.

Interestingly enough to you, despite being in the current position you were, you no longer felt any anxiety from being in the presence of your manifested form of Leon the vampire. Though he did stand there and confirm it all to you, no part of you felt like you needed to run away any longer. In fact, the contrast between the cold window and his warm body was all the convincing you needed to stay.

“I would never do this on an ordinary day, if it were anyone else I would fight these urges, but with you… I just find myself succumbing to something I wanted so suddenly.” His mouth moved against the skin of your neck, and you arched back into his body behind you. “I will not continue unless you tell me not to, but you should know I need more than just the one thing from you right now…” 

The deep octaves of his voice had your thoughts swimming, and any rational mind had flown far out the window. There was nothing to argue with when there was nothing you felt the need to refuse. 

“I…” A gasp from you, collecting breath you had not known you were holding. “I can’t let you do this then let you loose. This is too far beyond simplicity now.” Your breath fogged the window, and you couldn't help but notice once more how you could only see your bare shoulder in the glass, and not his large hand around the bone.

“I would never,” His lips were tucked up under your jawline, the vibrations from his voice being felt all over your body. A kiss would be less intimate. “You’re mine.”

At once, his hand on your waist tightened and he opened his mouth, his sharp fangs pierced the flesh right underneath your pulse and you gasped loudly, the pinch making you stiffen at first, then making your legs lose balance.

Leon’s hot mouth on your throat was like a painkiller compared to his teeth sunk into you, and his hand held you steady as you slowly felt the need to fall to your knees. He removed his right hand from your shoulder and wrapped it underneath your right arm, crossing over your chest to hold you steady against him, and the more you gasped and writhed at him feeding, the closer he pulled you into him.

He was groaning into your neck, his tongue swiping over the stinging wounds after he had retracted his fangs, and every time more blood pulsed out of the surface, he rocked his hips into you, and you could tell he was enjoying this in more ways than just the one. And, something you never would have believed you would get to admit, you were growing more excited with every passing second as well.

“Leon…” You whispered, unable to find strength to raise to your full voice. You clenched your eyelids shut, a burst of white filtering through the darkness. Your limbs started trembling. “Please…”

With a gasp from the man, he pulled his mouth off of your neck, the cold air stinging the once warm location. He pulled you close into his body. He was breathing heavily.

With his still low and raspy voice, he spoke again, his body twitching against yours from the rush of adrenaline. “With one taste now, I’m not sure I will ever be able to stay satiated without your blood again,” You tilted your head back, resting it on his. He held you up. “You remind me of a time when being alive meant something greater than just a state of being to me. For as long as I can…” He adjusted his head, and you felt the tip of his nose grace your jaw. It made you jump at first, afraid to feel those piercing teeth again, but he let you revel in the soft touch. “I cannot let another claim you to be theirs.”

Leon brought his left hand back upward on your body, caressing your face and directing it sideways to look at him. His eyes were burning bright with gold, and your hazy vision locked onto it like a target. 

“Tell me yes,” He whispered now, his mouth grazing yours. You were barely hanging on, the blood loss creating more of a haziness than you were expecting, but you would have been able to say this answer even if you could barely speak. You had made your mind up about this with Leon a long time ago. 

“Yes, Leon,” You breathily replied, and the grip on both of his hands intensified, capturing your body even closer to his if it was possible, and came down onto you in a heated kiss.

He held the side of your face to keep you upright, and it only made you melt further. His strong hands and arms were the sole reason you hadn't fallen to the floor by now, your mind was swimming and all of your nerves were aflame. You were barely paying any attention to the dull throbbing coming from the two pinpricks in your neck. 

Leon, you could tell immediately, was a passionate lover. He made sure to keep you close to him at all times, afraid at any moment you could run away, from him, from this archive, from this experience. You knew you could never do that, not after such a bond had already been created by letting him feed off of you. His arms were solace in this moment, and his mouth a lifesaver, ironically.

He gently bit at your lips, and when he pulled away for you to catch your breath, you could taste blood. It was your own, you knew, but some sick inner part of you loved the thrill it sent through you. You wanted more.

His mouth was back on your skin in an instant, this time by your cheek, ear, down to your jaw and neck. You flinched when he landed on the bite mark, but he only trailed over it with a light kiss, he didn’t intend on reopening them. One of your hands came down off of the cold glass, now fogged from the heat from the two of you, to wrap around his wrist. You could barely stand, and wanted to stay in his embrace, but needed to look at him.

At your touch, he slowly let you go, and when there was enough space for movement, you turned carefully, purposefully not leaving his contact.

You shuddered at the cold window on your back, but felt heat flood your senses again when you looked into his eyes. Leon loomed over you, gaze full of lust, chest heaving with having spent energy on you, but you knew he had more to give. And you had more you could take.

You grabbed the front of his shirt by the middle and pulled him closer to you. He wasted no time in coming where you had beckoned him, hand slithering around your waist to draw you in again. 

After a breath, you spoke, “I can’t… I don’t think I can stand for long,” Your eyes fluttered shut for a few seconds at a time, and you couldn’t help but to let them. 

The other hand that hadn’t worked its way around your waist trailed down your side, over the curve of your hips and thighs, and took solace underneath.

“Don’t worry about that,” It took only a second at most for him to lift you, settling himself in between your legs, back still pressed against the window. Leon’s hand was gripping your thigh, and the other was still behind you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck suddenly, and it brought you face to face with him once again. “I’ve got you. I won’t drop you.”

You sighed at his words, thankful he was now holding you, as that surely would have been the breaking point, and you would have been in a puddle on the floor by now. You let your head roll back, hitting the window with a dull thud, but any pain that might have happened due to it was nowhere to be felt, with other sensations at the forefront of your nerve system.

Leon had pressed himself against you again, the hardness of his cock through his pants pressing incessantly against your heat, he reattached his lips to your throat, nipping and sucking at the soft skin, eliciting mewls from your mouth at his touch.

Your hands explored ceaselessly along his strong arms, his biceps flexing from holding you, from the excitement coursing through his own body, and you couldn’t help but arch back into him, trying to get even closer than possibly allowed. You felt him pull away again, and you wrapped one hair through his soft blonde locks and pulled him back, connecting your lips in fervor, kissing him like your life source was dependent on you staying alive.

HIs lips were soft and hot, you were addicted to the taste. The tang of your blood mixed on his tongue danced with the shared saliva between you, and with every kiss you wished you could get even closer to him. You tugged on his hair, but it was as if he couldn’t even feel it, he was too wrapped up in you.

His tongue roamed your mouth, both soon becoming slick with spit and sweat between your bodies, and you couldn’t take the heat anymore. 

You pulled away, only by an inch but with enough space to whine out, “Leon, please,”

No more communication was needed, he understood your words. Maybe if you let it go on any longer, he would now just by whatever your body was telling him.

The arm he had around your waist snaked back to your side, and dipped down in between the two of you. Leon kissed your neck once, your head still relaxed against the window, unable to conjure the energy to move. You shivered with his touch along your thigh, the casual sweater dress you had on now becoming a good idea. You thanked your past self.

“If I continue will you let me,” He spoke into your neck, close enough to your ear for you to hear the low rumble of his voice. “I got a taste of you, but I know it won’t be enough.” His hand was already caressing the tender skin of your inner thigh, causing waves of chills and heat though your body and straight to your core. He was mere inches away from pulling aside your panties and running his fingers along your wetness, and you didn’t know if you could wait for that any longer.

“I need you Leon,” You whispered, and tried to turn your head to face him as best as you could. “I’ll let you forever.” 

He sighed, but it was closer to a growl. He thrust his hips forward, creating a delicious friction in between the two of you, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped. Your hand was still laced in his hair, and he inhaled sharply, in pleasure rather than pain, every time you pulled hard. 

You whined out loud when he withdrew the hand that was so close to putting fingers inside of you, but you quickly quieted down when he utilized it instead to work apart the clasp of his belt and button of his pants. He had no intentions of wasting time, though this was a man that had all in the world. 

You lifted your head with the surge of energy you found at the sound of this and attempted to look down, needing to feed your eyes before he fed your pussy. He caught you before you could make the move, smashing your lips together once again, but you didn’t mind the distraction, it was a better way to pass the time rather than have your mouth empty. 

Leon wrigled himself around for a moment, attempting to pull himself out with one hand. He sighed after he accomplished this, pulling away from your mouth, but instantly was back on your neck. This time, he gave you what you wanted.

With his other hand still supporting your thigh, and showing no signs of getting tired of this action, he replaced his hand back inside your dress skirt, but skipping right over its previous position. Instead, he placed the pad of his thumb right onto the gusset of your panties, pressing with enough force to give you the friction you were desperate for. You gasped out loud, and he only continued this action to make you writhe against him.

The hand that was not tangled in his hair traveled down his chest, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles and bones, toying with the buttons of his shirt to pull them apart. When he felt your hand touch his bare chest, you could feel the muscles flex for a second. 

He decided he had had enough of the teasing, though he was the one doing it to you. He roughly pulled aside your panties, and your mouth dried up at the action. Your breath hitched, and you knew what was coming.

He pulled away from your skin for a second to look into your eyes. You could feel yourself slowly slipping away, the dizziness from the blood loss slowly fading, but that strength was whisked away instantly by the arousal pooling in every crevice of your body. Leon’s eyes were half lidded, pupils blown, mouth slightly parted. You could tell just by looking at him that he barely had anything else on his mind. Just the few sips of your elixir gave him enough energy to last the whole night, most likely.

“I’m sorry if I get rough,” You felt the vibrations of his words through his chest, which you still had one hand firmly planted on. “Everything is heightened now and…” He swiped through your clothed pussy again, making you buck your hips forward. “You are irresistible, and it’s doing something to me… That I haven’t felt in a long time.”

You said nothing, or rather, didn’t have the time to, as after he concluded speaking, his fingers breached the threshold of your panties and he slipped a finger through your wet folds, making you inhale sharply and press yourself further against him. He leaned forward, pinning you fully against himself and the window, using his teeth to gently bite at your neck again. 

He proceeded to stay buried in your neck for the next minute or so, his fingers going back and forth from teasing your entrance to applying pressure on your clit, making you whine and wiggle around in his hold. Every time you moaned breathily right next to his ear, he growled lowly.

The rain continued to pound on the window behind you, mirroring the feeling of your dripping heat, tightening around nothing as Leon continued to tease you, the feeling of his twitching head would occasionally press against you, and you desperately tried to rut forward to put it in, but he held you in place. 

Finally, when he did decide to show mercy on your state, you whined so sharply your voice cut in and out of audibility, his thick fingers stretching you in a way that felt like bliss, no matter if any pain occurred. He thumbed your clit while slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you, feeling yourself grow slicker with every stroke, the movement becoming less and less resistant as he worked you open.

Surely he was able to feel your thighs trembling in his hand, your legs twitching with the feeling of his fingers, paired with the tongue against your pulse, the non-bitten side, you were almost at the edge without anything major happening.

He pulled away, putting himself once again in front of your face, searching you for signs that he shouldn’t continue. Tears were brimming on your lower lash line, though not from pain, but from the lack of pleasure. He saw this as it was, knowing what you were feeling in this moment, knowing you needed more, needed him. 

Leon held one second of eye contact, then dipped into your mouth to kiss you chastely, and at the same time, sheathed himself inside of you. You gasped into the kiss, deepening it as you tried to thrust yourself forward to take more and more of him in. He held your hips firmly in place, not letting you take any of the control. Your fingers were tugging so harshly at his hair now, you would be surprised if you pulled away with no strands stuck between your fingers. He welcomed the sting of it though, pushing himself forward into you until he completely bottomed out, the feeling of his twitching cock in your walls made your whole body shiver, and you felt yourself pulsing around him, begging for some action to relieve your aching.

Your breath was stuck in your throat at this. The fullness you were experiencing made it difficult to inhale anything, and with Leon not only filling your insides, but still keeping his mouth connected to your neck, everything was making your head spin.

“Leon…” You breathed out, and you received a grunt in return. He pistoned his hips forward again, making you whine sharply, before pulling himself out and repeating the action. You quickly became loud.

There was nothing rough about the action. He was slow and thoughtful with every stroke, hands gripping your ass where he held you up, pushing bruises into the skin where his fingers made contact. He groaned with every other thrust, enjoying the feeling of you around him as you were of him inside of you. 

You could barely make any more noise at this point, just heavy breathing was coming from the both of you, a whine occasionally making its way out from your throat, but too many sensations were happening at once, it was all so overstimulating.

Your hands were roaming, trying to find any surface on him possible to steady yourself. You were clawing at him desperately, feeling a little sorry for the marks you were creating along his chest, but every line of pain was being pushed into his performance, and he was not relenting on his power.

“Fuck,” Leon moaned into your ear, and he took one second to collect himself before resuming his pace. You could feel how wet the both of you had become, as well as hear it. “You feel amazing…” Your head rolled back once more and thudded against the rain stricken window, but it was not loud enough to drown out the incessant squelching happening. Leon began to pick his pace up slightly, most likely your sign that he was getting close.

He thrust hard and stayed seated inside of you, making your legs tense up, and pleasure shoot throughout your entire body. Your hand had finally let go of his hair at this, squeezing with as much strength as you could muster up in your body on his thick shoulder, where you could feel every muscle as he struggled to hold you up and keep himself together.

“You’re too much for me,” He gasped into your ear, “I can’t hold on much longer,” 

You lifted your head off of the window and leaned down, he met you halfway and sealed his words with a deep kiss. Moving away from other spots on his body, your hands traveled back up and cupped both sides of his face, kissing him with passion as he tried to split focus between kissing you and fucking you.

You could feel his breath on your face as he began stuttering, and his sounds made your stomach tighten, and you clenched your walls around him, making it even harder for him to continue.

He pulled away by a mere centimeter, saliva stuck between you two in a string, the look in his eyes soft yet strong, he admired you in a way that made you forget he had seen a thousand other beautiful things in his lifetime. It made you feel like you topped the list. Sweat was beading on his forehead, it was catching the moonlight behind you, making his skin shine like silver. His eyes were blue again.

He furrowed his brow together, his hips losing its steady rhythm. “I–I can’t,” He almost whimpered, and you took pity on his state. It was arousing to see this man fall apart under you.

You tried your best to speak, voice cutting in between heavy breaths. “So don’t.” These words elicited a sob-like sound from the man in front of you. His mouth dropped open, eyelids scrunching together, letting the last of himself loose that he had been holding together barely at all. 

With broken gasps and groans, you felt Leon push himself for just a moment more, the pleasure on his face driving you right to your orgasm, and the knot inside of you came loose. Solace was found on his chest again, and your nails dug into him as you rode it out, knowing the feeling was going to push Leon over as well.

You felt it before you saw it on his face. You felt the throb of his thick cock inside of you, his hips unable to do anything steadily at this point, and he let himself go inside of you.

He was looking down between the two of you, though you were sure his eyes were closed as you were still pressed together. He groaned once, twice, and when he eventually looked up, in between his panting lips and huffs for air, you saw his shining fangs that had come out to play again.

You almost invited him to bite you again. Surely it would have allowed him to continue.

You blinked and they were gone. His facial features softened as he looked at you, your skin was on fire from the warm air settling in around you two, and your lungs wouldn’t fill efficiently enough.

He gulped, trying to wet his mouth. You were experiencing the same. “Are you alright to stand?”

You removed your hands from his chest and placed them on one of the panes of the window. “I think I will be, maybe… eventually.”

He huffed a laugh. He gently maneuvered his hands to let your feet plant back onto the ground. After being held up for so long, your knees felt like jelly. You stumbled.

He still loomed over you after you had regained your balance. He discreetly put himself away while you were busy controlling the rush of blood back to your head, and now he was keeping a watchful eye, scared, like you were fragile.

“I’m just unsteady. I won’t break.” You remarked. You pulled the hem of your dress down.

Leon smiled. It warmed you. “Of course I know that. I just…” He looked away for a moment, as if ashamed. “I drank a lot more than I should have. And then proceeded to heighten your heart rate, which was not my best course of action, but at times, I tend to get ahead of myself.” You stared at him as he talked. You felt endeared by his worries. 

“I feel fine, right now. But I was hazy. But…” You bit your lip, wondering if you should continue your train of thought. Why not, you concluded, the most intimate act was already water under the bridge. “I liked how it felt.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a slight difference to the tone of the moment, but you noticed his hair, which he hadn’t yet patted down from your fingers running wild in them. It made him look rugged, playful. Human.

“I…” Leon said nothing else for a few more seconds. You observed each other. Reveling in the events that just transpired, and exactly what this means moving forward. There was no more strictly professional relationship. You could feign it to the public, but you will always want him. He will always crave you.

He continued. “I meant what I said. I had a little too much just for a first taste, and it heightened every nerve ending in my body, you allowed me to continue, and I fear… Well, now I need to see where this takes our relations. I would like…” Another pause for humility. “I would like you to stay. Stay here, not for the building, but with me.”

You were the one to gulp this time. Even just his words had a sweeping effect like a wave, and you were desperately trying to breathe through the undertow. 

You walked forward, grabbing his shirt by the half undone buttons and pulled him into a kiss. You let the passion take over in place for the lust a few minutes prior, and you could feel the difference all over your body. You knew your answer.

You pulled away, both of you slightly dazed. You whispered into his lips, “That was already my plan.” 

The moonlight hugged you both goodnight.

[atoledefresa-delulusversion]

Time to fangirl about Helluva Boss: My predictions for "Full Moon"

Stolas wakes up. He's sick, he's nervous, he's conscious what day it is and what will could posibly go right or go absolutly and irremediably wrong.

We know the episode starts with the duet, so Stolas proceeds to vent his feelings the only way we've seen him be able to do: through songs. So they sing.

Stolas sing about being aware of the power inbalance in their... situationship. So he plans to give Blitz the choice to stay or leave. Of course, if Blitz choses to stay it would be perfect; but if he doesn't, Stolas would lose the only thing close to "love" he has.

Meanwhile, Blitz sings about keeping things the way the are. Of course, he doesn't like change. He's probably becoming aware of his own feelings but as long as they don't talk about it, everything will be fine, rigth?

After that, they're gonna show us IMP at the end of a job, using the grimoire (maybe) for the last time. And they are happy because everything is going up for them. Moxxie talks about how it would be disastrous to lose that but Blitz just ignores him 'cause he has somewhere else to be.

Bitz's suit has blood so he changes and goes to Fizzarolli for advice on how to please his high status demon so he can make sure they go back to how it was. And Blitz gets A LOT of things.

And finds Stolas waiting for him on the bed... but he's dressed? And so the torture begins.

Stolas is not good with words, we already know that. We also knew Blitz would take "the talk" as a subtle pitiful way of Stolas saying he doesn't wanna have anything to do with him anymore. And Blitz breaks. My boy tried to do, say and look his best to make this night special and turns out his efforts were in vain. Doesn't matter if he pushes people away because people will abandon him even when he's not trying to do so.

I've seen people theorize that Stolitz are gonna parallel themselfs when they were kids, with Stolas portaling Blitz to the tree where they played when they were little and confess or solve their problems there, but that's not the case. Here my evidence:

Look at the plants on the first background and the barely visible plant on the scene where Blitz is screaming at Stolas. It seems Blitz is chasing Stolas through the palace, but WHY? And here:

Right after Stolas portals Blitz away, we see a tree some believe to be the same as the one when they were kids, but it's actually one of the trees from the entrance. Stolas teleported Blitz OUT of the palace. Brandon has to agree at least we have this theory right.

Me & Brandon:

We also have this scene and I''m curious WHY does Stolas looks so formal? With the hat and everything:

For the red light on the corner, I assume this is from the same scene when they talk. Maybe he's not waiting for Blitz on the bed, maybe that's a completely different scene, but they DO have the talk in Stolas' room. Maybe this clip is first: he puts his hat on, ready to be professional so Blitz will take him seriously as he explains why they can't keep doing what they're doing the way they're doing it.

I have no idea what could Stolas had possibly said to trigger Blitz so bad to the point where he snaps (and maybe says some hurtful things) and Stolas ends it by teleporting him out. Maybe, in his dramatic solitude, the epise ends with Stolas saying: "Thank you, Blitz, for making me so happy even if only for a little while" as a form of closure.

Anyway, I give you nothing. I'm slowly spiraling into an abyss of delusion in order to survive the wait.

[feligayzed]

Hey I saw your doodles about the surface au and I'm hooked but I'm kind of curious about something what is his family doing do they know?

Heya!! Okay I'm not gonna front I haven't put too much thinking into the rest of Seb's fam and their whereabouts, but you've given me a wonderful opportunity to do so! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ the initial finding out about Everything™ in the first place could literally be it's own post though so I'll just be focusing on dynamics past the "he's alive and he's a fish and there's a talking computer strapped to him" shock 😭

Right off the bat I can tell you that Painter and Sebastian's sister are straight up besties, like- she was a little freaked at first (understandably) but the two of them inevitably grew to understand each other, especially with how involved the both of them were in Seb's recovery days~

The skepticism was palpable for a while; she is his older sister after all, and there was a lot of confusion about what exactly she was looking at. She was kind of the Boss Bitch what with their mother aging and everything, so a lot of the stress ultimately fell on her (even if Sebastian's stubborn self insisted not to worry about him/"he could take care of himself"). Painter and their neverending patience definitely came in clutch though, as they're very much aware of how they're perceived at first glance, but they were dead set on being proactive- really when it came down to it she saw that he meant a lot to them and she couldn't help but respect it (they ended up being a huge help when Sebastian finally had the 'okay' to go home, not like it would let him out of their sights anyway)

Nowadays they're regarded as family, by pretty much everybody. Sebastian's brother found them pretty cool from the get-go, but really he was more focused on Seb throughout the whole thing (when they were younger he 100% looked up to him quite a bit, present day they couldn't be closer :,3 he also did massive things for Seb's self-esteem early on). His mother will probably never be able to fully conceptualize Painter's existence, but they love to help her cook and craft so she doesn't really care for the meta shit 😭🫶

Now...heh....the stuff I'm indulgent about *rubs my hands together greedily* Does the fam know about Sebastian and Painter and their faggy situationship turned serious...... probably not! At least not to its full extent 🤔 They try to keep it relatively low-key, but they're a very family-oriented bunch so it's getting increasingly harder LOL. I'm imagining a totally not serious scenario in which Seb steps forward with Painter in tow like "guys I have to confess that the rumors are true I do in fact kiss this thing" and everyone is just. Unimpressed. Sebastian was never one for relationships back then so when someone Has Him it's incredibly obvious I fear 😭

Really if they did find out they probably wouldn't care at this point, Painter had already been indoctrinated into the Solace name for god knows how long now so the obvious questions were bypassed FSKDKSG

Thanks for asking!! This was fun food for thought HEHE

[ren-rambles-often]

Ladies, Gentlemen and all those who don't fit....WE'RE SO BACK!!!

And all it took was TWO (two???) FUCKING WEEKS of me refreshing the page where I watch!!!

If whoever's reading this has been following my budding Yatagarasu addiction you would know absolutely how much I adore this series and if there were no redeeming qualities I would stay purely for Yukiya and Natsukihiko's little fights.

Which is why I just have to gush over them a bit first before getting to every other good thing about this shit.

Y'all the amount of time they took revealing this bastard's face like it's some big secret is way too funny, like who else would Yukia react that way too. Happy to see my baby boy again but why are his actions always so y/n code lmaoooo. Waking up late for an event, running into his former boss slash situationship who he left cuz the job was more important, being so fucking sassy and pretending he wants nothing to do with said boss??? He's so perfect I love him 😭😭

(Also if your running to the comments to type out Yukiya's age or tell about how you don't like that I ship them...take the hands of the screen now as I do not care 🥰)

Yukima onisan being the best wingman was arguably one of my favorite moments, boy saw something and said "nah you bitches do your thing" in the nicest way possible and I respect that.

I literally just love seeing them together, the chemistry is just all over the place and they're so funny to watch. Natsuki (who's honestly the least Natsuki-looking Natsuki I've seen in all anime) just have the most obnoxious look when he's messing with Yukiya and I relate to that so much, his deadpan expressions are the cutest thing.

All in all the boys are back to stop an illegal drug trade and no one around me is hearing the end of it. The summer Line up has genuinely done little to impress me this last couple weeks. Tasuuketsu isn't all too bad but I do be confused, Wisteria ward and sword is just mashle with isekai visuals and no gag humor to interest me, and Twilight out of focus although enjoyable is the millionth slice of life drama BL to exist so might as well just thank the yaoi gods we were considered thus season. There's also Isekai suicide Squad but that's like its own thing I do not want to unpack rn lolol.

If you read my rambling this far....why did you??? Save your braincells and leave now <3333

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Two Can Play by Ali Hazelwood

4.25/5. Releases 10/1/2024.

The Vibes: video games, workplace rivals, snowed in, pining

Heat Index: 7/10

The Basics:

Rival indie video game design companies end up on a work retreat to collaborate on a new project. The problem for lead designer Viola? Her co-lead is Jesse, the quiet expert she had a crush on for years... until, of course, he made it very clear that he wasn't interested. They're equally invested in making this project a success, however. And as the snow falls, extending the retreat even further, Jesse and Viola realize there's a lot more to their friction than what initially met the eye.

The Review:

So cute! I needed something quick and refreshing, and this was exactly it. With a heavy dose of heat, especially for how quick a read (listen? This is a Spotify exclusive and audio only) it is. I actually started the book a little curious as to whether or not it would feel too crunched; it's half or less than half the listening length of a typical Hazelwood audiobook. But it kind of worked perfectly?

The retreat is key, I think. This is going to be perfect as the autumn and winter temperatures close in. I loved the details of the retreat, the snow, the hot tubs, the warm beds... it was all very cozy, and coziness is absolutely in Hazelwood's wheelhouse. However, it's never a boring coziness. The snap of her dialogue, the humor in the character dynamics, keeps it from being slow even when it's wholesome. Which is easier said than done!

Viola and Jesse are charming, likable leads. Speaking of Hazelwood's wheelhouse—nothing here reinvents her wheel. Which I think is less "big guy, small heroine, they are nerds" and more "He's into her from afar but for reasons can't act on it and she interprets his ambivalence as loathing" (though Not in Love was a notable exception). Personally, I think she does it very well, and as long as I'm entertained, I'm good with it.

You're not going to be shocked by the fact that Jesse's feelings for Viola may be more complicated than she thought. I found his reasoning to be pretty solidly realistic, even if the problem could've been resolved sooner. It's a normal miscommunication to me. Not too dramatic, not too slight. Just right.

I found the video game backdrop pretty fun and not too difficult to follow (I say as someone who knows approximately nothing about video games). I actually really liked the insight on the art of designing a video game, which I've always been tangentially aware of but enjoyed learning more about. There was a sweet, not super subtle but still fun, connection between the love story and the game—and speaking of? Kinda want to play the game now.

Side note: There's a subplot that's not quite a secondary romance between Jesse and Viola's bosses... I want SO much more of that situationship. I'd take a whole book, Ali!

The Sex:

OOH BUT THIS WAS SO GOOD? And I didn't expect it. I mean, Ali always writes good sex scenes, but I kind of thought this might skimp a little since it's on the shorter side. But uh... no. You get several sex scenes, and they're all very hot (I didn't expect THAT in a quick book, but I wasn't mad about it) while also maintaining a bit of emotional softness.

But what I loved most about the sex scenes was how confident Viola is. She's a good lay! Jesse's very overwhelmed! We love an overwhelmed hero!

It's quick, it's to the point, it's going to scratch your itch for a Hazelwood "nerds in love and also banging" book. And it's ideal for fall and winter.

On an audiobook note, Kelsey Navarro Foster did a great job with this one. This format served the book well; it felt like a little treat. I'd definitely recommend, especially if you're going through a bit of a reading slump.

Thanks to NetGalley and Spotify Audiobooks for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[mysticraven20]

I’m excited to announce that this year I have once again taken part in the @mlbigbang

‘The Situationship’ will begin releasing on Friday 5th January (my birthday 🥳) as a special celebration. Then chapters will follow on a Sunday.

This year I have been paired up with the incredibly talented @peonyfanart and Miraculouslyshellie and I cannot wait to share the artwork for the fic! I am completely overwhelmed by what I’ve seen so far and I cannot thank you both enough for choosing this fic to work on 💗

Also, a huge thank you to my beta @uptoolateart for being magnificent and such a wonderful support, and also Lorena for reading through for inconsistencies in the story line.

Be prepared for 32 chapters of shenanigans, chaos and fun — with a twist

The Situationship

Synopsis: What if ‘the one’ split into two…?

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Lady Luck herself, has finally fallen on her feet after years of playing catch-up. Her boss, Mary Humphries of The House of Humphries, has invited her to be first assistant at an important meeting in London with none other than Gabriel.

But with bad luck seemingly always knocking on her door, she needs to make sure she doesn’t ruin this opportunity — which is easier said than done.

When she mistakes handsome, geeky looking Adrien Agreste as Gabriel’s personal assistant, suddenly she seems to have magicked up some luck.

They could not be more different in personality, yet after surviving a rather interesting Akuma together, a strange and exciting friendship begins… It’s just a shame one person doesn’t agree.

Someone who happens to be his ‘other half’.

Except:

Absent-mindedly, she reached out and grabbed her Chat Noir plushy, holding it tightly against her chest and feeling the bubbling emotion edge to break free. She didn’t want to leave him, not when she’d just figured it all out, when she’d figured out what she wanted them to be. It wasn’t just Paris she was unwilling to let go of — it was her partner too.

They’d been dating for just over three months, and what a blissful three months they’d had! But now it was all prematurely ending. They’d known this would happen. They’d known when they decided to give it a try that there was an expiration date looming over them. Both understood that their lives were about to take drastic changes in direction – but they’d decided to do it anyway, to finally give in to their overwhelming feelings — even if it had a short shelf life.

And now, the inevitable was happening and she hated it. More than anyone could ever imagine.

Alya stood from her position, making her way around the back of Marinette and wrapping her arms around her neck, her chin perched protectively on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Marinette nodded in response, aware the bubbling had finally broken free, spilling over and making a great escape down her cheeks. Alya knew the heartbreak she experienced every time she thought of leaving her partner. It felt like a divorce. Like a bereavement.

Every time Marinette thought of saying goodbye to her partner it was as though her heart had been ripped out. Nothing more than a confetti of complicated and complex emotions.

“I just… I…” She broke down, tears falling as she buried her face in her hands and grieved the loss of the most important thing in her life.

The sobs continued late into the darkness of night, as she and Chat Noir said their final goodbyes. Their hands were joined tightly together as they sat under the moonlight.

They were spending their last remaining hours together on their rooftop — exactly where they should be, spending hours talking into the darkness of night, reminiscing and conversing about nothing and everything – Chat Noir being his usual fun self even through the heartache he easily displayed on his sleeve. He was an open book to her, an encyclopaedia of all that was good and sweet in this world. No one would ever come close to him, and she understood that. No one was Chat Noir.

“You’re my true love,” he said. “And, as in the fairytales, true love will always prevail — because it's strong, and we’re strong. Stronger together.”

Marinette didn’t know where he was going, or what he was doing, but the pain of having to say a final farewell hurt more than anything she had done before, both giving in to one more night of passion before reluctantly leaving in the early hours of the morning.

Later that day, he left Paris.

Three weeks later, she did too.

[hel-phoenyx]

"No offense, Tyrfing, but you really are a fucking idiot."

I tense up, hit right in the heart by the harsh words. Not that I'm not used to it, but still, it's painful to hear.

Next to me, Brynja, always a sweetheart, frowns and lifts a hand.

"If you may, Kriss, I don't think those words are necessary, that's my..."

She pauses, but Kriss doesn't leave her time to notice that hesitation.

"Then you're fucking an idiot, Brynja, what do you want me to say ? An idiot in love, in denial and deep in emotional repression while he wants to be deep in several people !"

... Always the roughest words to say, huh Kriss. My sister, talking like the worst vulgar man sometimes, something she developped to protest against our parents' strictness ; junior already knows three hundred curse words. At ten. Luckily there's Gustav to tell him not to use them.

I've been used to that way of being since a long time. That doesn't mean it's enjoyable.

Brynja tries to interject again, but Kriss cut through that attempt.

"So. Let's rewind. Mister is in love with Kaizarz since fucking childhood. Has a thing for Oli and Domhildr from the times he was in high school and trying to be an ace in the hole, always overcompensating for the fact parents asked him to live up to the high IQ diagnosis. Which I still think is bullshit."

I cringe hearing that. yeah, I'm considered a gifted child, but must you really remind me of the times I was too proud of it-

No time to protest, she's still talking and I know her well enough to remember an interruption would just make it worse.

"Fucked Meili in the house thinking I wouldn't hear them and realised at this moment, at least I hope, that he had a crush on him since the whole homoerotic academia rivalry. Had an ambiguous relationship with Bryn here on the side while homoerotically hitting it up with the biggest bastard this world have ever seen, who only has for himself saving my life once to the point I made the mistake to name my son after him. Not to add the biggest crush this poor Hector had on you-"

"Wait Hector has what-"

"BUT ! Kriss cuts me with an agressive move of the hand. Mister is now 26 and still hasn't act on those feelings to the point I am HAPPY to hear you fucked Brynja the first time you saw her after ten years of long-distance situationship ? And y'all still think I can't call you a dumbass ?"

"You said an idiot," I sigh, pointlessly. Not like she would listen to me, anyway.

Kriss frowns.

"Same difference. Not everyone has a background in litterature, you little bitch."

"That's rich coming from the woman in STEM. Weren't you complaining about your sexist boss a minute ago ?"

"I find complaining about you more amusing, at least I can laugh in your face. Your love and sex life is a mess, Tyr, you know that ?"

I roll my eyes.

"Well, it was, until a recent date, almost non-existent. Why do you think I downloaded Tinder."

"Didn't you uninstall it after finding your precious Domi on it ?"

"Oh, shut up. And I didn't, I just closed the fucking app !"

Brynja has a little laugh.

"Well, it feels good to be back in known grounds..."

"Yeah, happy to see you too, Brynja. Finally someone with enough common sense to tell Tyr he's fucking everything up."

"Do you really have to gang up against me ?"

Kriss has a mocking smile.

"That's sisterhood and womanly solidarity, bitch."

"I am your fucking BROTHER !"

"And she's fucking my brother, at this point I can call her my sister-in-law. When do you introduce me to the others, by the way ?"

"You'll do well to remember who set you up with Gustav-"

"Alright, that's enough," interjects said Gustav with a laugh, coming in the living room with his hands full with a plate of tea and biscuits. "Let's not ruin Brynja's return and Tyr's milestone in his thesis."

Thank god for that man. He kisses Kriss on the cheek and instantly my sister loses the sneering to a much more tender expression. It's so weird how it's the same woman that was shooting point blank at me a minute ago.

Brynja takes my hand with a smile while the two lovebirds married for ten yers gush around each other.

"You know, Tyr, maybe I can help you with that."

".... You're not.... Put off ? By me being poly."

It was, still is, one of my biggest fears. That one of them wouldn't accept it and I would have to make choices.

But she just shrugs.

"Well, I may be monogamous in a strict love sense, but I am not exclusive, you know. It's just... Since him, I haven't found anyone else to..."

Her eyelids are trembling. I figure it's best I take control of the conversation again.

"I'm... Glad it suits you. I want you happy, you know."

"I know, Tyr. I wouldn't have loved you all these years if you didn't."

A hand brushes next to an eye before she smiles again.

"Maybe I can return the favor. You deserve that and so much more."

[the-bar-sinister]

A Tango, A Tangle (607 words) by thesavagesabretooth

Summary: It's Clay and Apollo's date night, and Clay ends up giving Apollo advice about his other relationships regarding his situationship with Klavier, and his unresolved feelings about Kristoph.

-

Clay poked his head into Apollo's kitchen, where Apollo was busy cutting vegetables.

"Your phone's been beeping, 'Pollo. Somebody's trying to get a hold of you."

Apollo wiped his hands on a towel and turned after setting the knife down. He held out a hand for the phone. "Did you see who it was?"

"Didn't look," he shook his head as he passed it to him. Apollo sighed, glancing at it, and put it aside without answering. "It's Klavier. He was asking if I was free tonight."

"I can't believe you've got an actual rockstar pining for your attention, and you're barely into him." Clay shook his head and came over on Apollo's side, slipping his arm around his shoulders. "If it was me I'd at least be flattered."

Apollo blushed and nuzzled his boyfriend's neck. "I am flattered, you know? We've even been on a few dates. But Klavier is… a lot, you know? And besides, being around him makes it hard not to think of…."

He trailed off, but Clay knew what he was thinking. "Your old boss?"

Apollo's posture stiffened, and he nodded against Clay's shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, he's his brother, right? and they look a lot alike, but he's completely different."

"And you're still really hung up on Mr. Gavin," Clay observed. He stroked his fingers through Apollo's short hair.

"How could I not be? He was the first person besides you to really give me a chance. To believe in me, and try to build me up, you know?" Apollo sighed with frustration as he leaned into Clay's touch. "But then everything happened! And he's gone, and I sure as hell haven't gotten any closure, and I don't know what to do! I still find myself leaning on his advice all the time, but in the back of my mind, I worry it's going to make me a bad person somehow."

"I mean, just cause he killed people doesn't mean all his advice was bad, I guess," Clay considered, thoughtfully, running his tongue over his teeth. "And it's not like you've just forgiven him for killing people, right?"

"NO! I mean…no. Not really?" he frowned as his objection turned to mush. "I haven't forgiven him, but I keep trying to think of ways that it might not be his fault, or might not be as bad as it looks…"

Clay sighed, and tugged Apollo's chin up to give him a soft kiss. "You're really hung up on him, 'Pollo. It's okay. We'll figure it out."

Apollo sighed and put his arms around Clay's shoulders, his head against his chest. "Thanks, Clay. I don't deserve you."

"Yeah you do. And you have me anyway. I love you, 'Pollo. No matter how many weird boyfriend troubles you have. But I need you to do something for me."

Apollo looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"I need you to actually text Klavier Gavin back like an adult tonight and tell him that you're busy instead of leaving him hanging."

Apollo sighed again and nodded. "Yeah, you're right, I do. It's just hard because I know he'll be doing the puppy dog face."

"What, you mean like you do when I'm busy?" Clay teased. "Just tell him you'll see him again soon. You do want to see him again, right?"

"Yeah… I mean, I think so at least. I wish it wasn't so complicated."

"We'll figure it out," Clay repeated. "Now come on, text him back and I'll help you get dinner ready. I don't want to wait all night to start the movie."

Apollo laughed and picked up the phone. "Yes sir, Captain Terran."

[southern-belle-outcasts]

SHIPPING INFO:// Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog

REPOST. DON'T REBLOG

(Including Remy in this for the sake of simplicity)

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

I don't have many because I'm a multishipper. For like, fandom, non-rp content, you have R.omy and A.nidala. That's it. A better question is notp and that's r.ogueneto, I will not be writing it, I filter it to keep it off my dash. But there's all kinds of options for shipping with my muses because I don't have a 'i will only write this one ship' for any one character.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

A lot. It really just depends on how comfy I am with the mun and how much we've developed our muses' relationship. Sometimes the muns I've known for a while can just chuck new ideas at me and we just go head first without development but that's a case by case kind of deal. Brakes start pumping for pregnancy stuff mainly because I don't do fetish content for free, that's a paid service you will not find here- long time partners only. Cheating is a nope, just have no desire to write it. I don't mind other toxic situations, or messy open situationships, but flat out cheating just rubs me wrong. And nothing involving a.b.o. Just, no thank you.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

I ship r.ogan, so clearly age gaps don't bother me lmao. It's more power dynamics, and it's all fake anyways, just depends on the situation. Most of the muses aren't going for anyone much younger than them anyways, it's more older where they might raise eyebrows.

Are you selective when shipping?

A little bit yes, a little bit no? So I do like my ships of all types, not just romantic, but the ones that tend to the more steamy I am most comfy with established with for a variety of reasons. That's not to say sometimes I can't plot for more specific ship types early on with the right person, it just very much depends. Like, Sara/Warren with @wingedwarren was literally started off by a smut meme out the gate. I have never claimed there aren't exceptions they are just Rare AF and Highly Conditional.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

I tag consertatively. Meaning if someone's boss or mom were to peep over their shoulder and might be scandalized, I've probably already tagged it as 'nsfw ish' unless we're talking Prude of the Year levels. Usually once things underneath clothes are being given attention, whether or not said clothes have hit the floor. I don't use the rating toggle because it can shadowban your blog and/or make it impossible to cut the thread. But I do tag.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

Oh dear. There's so many. If I missed someone I swear it wasn't on purpose. These are all the ships be it familial, friend, hate, romantic, we don't fucking know yet cuz we're still writing it out, you name it. There is no rhyme or reason to the order so do not read into any of that.

Rogue- @meretrixious, @ifyoucatchacriminal, @suffcring, @iomadachd, @revenantinflames, @thefastestaround, @bothsidesofaquestion, @fatummortem

Gabriel- @nacreousxhearts

Sara- @wingedwarren, @meretrixious, @shizumaikushima

Cisco- @brooklynislandgirl, @meretrixious, @morgansmornings

Farrar- @nacreousxhearts, @iomadachd

Nilza- @iomadachd, @suffcring, @meretrixious, @kylo-wrecked, @bothsidesofaquestion, @brooklynislandgirl, @astral-athame, @halliwellauto

Harry- @reallifejedi, @brooklynislandgirl

Kaylee- @nacreousxhearts, @meretrixous, @arthurthefaceless

Padmé- @mynameisanakin, @brooklynislandgirl

Remy- @brooklynislandgirl, @ifyoucatchacriminal, @nacreousxhearts, @abrushwithdeath, @fatummortem, @bothsidesofaquestion, @down-home-charm, @suffcring

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

At least with a small check-in. A fast way to get blocked is start reblogging my fc posts 'xyz's girlfriend' before we've ever started a thread (yes that's happened in the past).

How often do you like to ship?

Shrug, -waves vaguely at the replies that occasionally grace the dash-

Are you multiship?

I am the captain of an armada, and the ships do not ever cross paths unless there's a lot of chit chat between all muns. Which apart from Armin and some other xpeople has been...never. Namely because once I do a three mun polycule ship, someone blows it up. I've learned it's best not to lmao.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

More-or-less. I’m here for juicy writing of all types. {<-stolen}

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

Uh...most of my ships are crossover or oc. Current implies I would ever leave X-Men, which...no. Obvs r.omy. I don't much engage with the a.rrowverse fandom anymore. D.resden files would probably be Susan/Harry. That's about it for canon stuff. If this question meant rp stuff, I don't feel like listing favorites there.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Send memes, signal flares, a chancla. Some amount of ooc chitchat is usually helpful (by that i mean about the muses, if there's one thing I don't like doing it's delving into the question "how are you" from someone i barely know cuz it's usually uh...well...it's my life)

tagged by: Taken from @kylo-wrecked and there was probably many others at the time but it's been a minute

tagging: be gay, do crime

[athousandbyeol]

thank you for tagging me, @forcebookish <3

1 . How did you get into writing fanfiction?

when i was 15, i had a lot of problems at school. i was in the first class (i wasn't smart, btw. i guess it was luck or misjudgement from the school management) and i received a lot of mental and emotional pressure to be like my other classmates. they were all very bright and i wasn't. so it took a toll on my mental health. i got really bad grades, especially in maths and science. and some of my teachers said very heartbreaking things to me.

i was trying to find a distraction. and that time i was still new in the k-pop fandom. but one day i discovered a kaisoo (exo) fanfic on asianfanfics and i instantly fell in love. i read a lot (A LOT) of kaisoo fanfics after studying. one day, i decided to write my own and it was so cringey ngl hahaha. but it was so fun when people started commenting on it! so i thought, hey, this is so cool. i should just continue doing this because it helped me a lot mentally. i wasn't good in english before (still am not, tbvh) because english isn't my first language. but after reading and writing fanfics, i got an A+ for my exam! and i never got a B ever since. :)

fast forward, i've been writing fanfics for 10 years. <3

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

i think i've written stories for 30+ fandoms? hehe. my most written stories belong to the bad buddy (patpran), only friends (topmew), kinnporsche (vegaspete) and a boss and a babe (guncher) fandom :)

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

i write more. i read sometimes. but usually during my free time, i would either write, edit or watch videos and listen to crime/horror podcasts hehe. but i want to read more, though.

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

i guess... my own voice? i noticed, when i just started writing fanfics, i tended to copy the writing style of an author i liked. but now, i think i have my own distinct writing style. maybe some readers can tell if a story was written by me hehe.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

i researched about ways to clean corpses for somewhere else (topmew)...

i don't think it's weird, but i researched a lot on polyamorous relationships while writing tell me (topmew). i also did a bit of research on situationship when i wrote maybe we and not us (also topmew).

topmew really made me do a lot of reading and researching hehe.

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

i personally like when readers highlight their favourite lines or parts from the story. i think it's the best type of comment. but i appreciate any kind of comment i get because they're treasures i'll cherish for a lifetime. :)

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

i don't know if this isn't mainstream, but i wrote about prostitution (come home/topmew). in the story, top worked as a part-time prostitute while being in a stable relationship with mew. mew knew top's working as an escort, but he was so supportive of top and loved him the same.

i was trying to show that sex workers are also human beings and they deserve to be loved. i guess i was hoping readers (and myself) could change the stereotype we have against prostitutes/sex workers because not all of them do this for pleasure. most of them do it because of survival. i watched a short documentary on sex work in the philippines and was inspired to write this story. they're so strong and admirable. :)

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

smut. i can't write smut. i swear. i've been trying for years but i just can't write it well. and i don't really like writing this genre (?) in particular... i think i'm also weak at writing dialogues and dialogue tags. it's so hard :(

10. What is the easiest type?

descriptive, narrative and emotive. i'm comfortable writing in this style and i consider it as one of my strengths :)

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

i usually write in my room, on my bed or on the floor. i write all my stories on grammarly because as i mentioned, i'm not a native english speaker so grammarly helps a lot with basic grammar mistakes. there's no fixed time, honestly. usually, i'll write whenever i'm inspired. but mostly, it's at night (between 10 to 3 am) and morning (5 to 8 am). and i'll always listen to music when i'm writing. ^^

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

i have a plan to write an original story with forcebook and jimmysea as the main cast this year. but looking at the things i have to do upcoming semester (dissertation and candidature defence), i'm afraid of the time limitation. everything is already planned out. i just have to write the story down. but time isn't on my side these days. so i'll just probably stick to writing one-shots in the meantime. but i really hope i can make this idea happen someday :(

13. What made you choose your username?

athousandbyeol is actually a play on 'a thousand stars'. i really loved p'aof's a tale of a thousand stars so my usernames (youtube, twitter, ko-fi and tumblr) are based on that :)

wordsbythesundown is my pen name ^^ i used this for my instagram and my second blog ^^ (and because i really love sunsets hehe)

i don't know who to tag so... anyone who sees this, feel free to join the fun :)