#oh but He loves us He can't be terrifying!

[ahopefulbromantic]

JESUS THE SEVEN-HORNED SEVEN-EYED LAMB OF GOD

JESUS THE ALL-CONSUMING FIRE DEVOURING EVERYTHING THAT COMES NEAR HIM

JESUS A LITTLE SKINNY UNASSUMING HUMAN WHOM ALL THE DEMONS FLEW AWAY IN TERROR FROM

WHOM STORMS AND NATURE HAD TO LISTEN TO

WHO IN THIS MEEK FORM HAD IN HIM THE ALMIGHTY POWER BEYOND HUMAN COMPREHENSION

JESUS THE PIECE OF BREAD AND THE DROP OF WINE THAT ALL THE WORLD BOWS DOWN TO MORE IMPORTANT TO LIFE ON EARTH THAN THE SUN

JESUS THE WORD INCARNATE THE TRUTH PERSONIFIED "UNABLE" TO SPEAK LIES SIMPLY BECAUSE THE REALITY ITSELF BENDS AND SHIFTS TO FULFIL HIS EVERY WORD

JESUS WHO KNEW YOUR EVERY THOUGHT BEFORE THE WORLD EXISTED (HE LIVES IN YOUR MIND RIGHT NOW)

JESUS WHOSE TRUE GODLY FORM IF YOU TOOK ONE LOOK AT YOU WOULD INSTANTLY DIE

Lovecraftian horrors may only wish they could have this level of mind-shattering incomprehensiveness that the only real God who ever existed has

(art by OukaMocha)

See the thing about fundamentalists and trads and Christian nationalists and MAGA evangelicals and ethnocratic bigots is that they render the faith so boring.

I take no issue with the fact that they would look at me and say that I’m not a member of the faithful because their faith is radically, inherently, ontologically distinct from mine. My God is too big and too loving and too esoteric to fit neatly into the gendered understanding of an authoritarian white father disciplining his children for not perfectly falling into lockstep. My Savior is the man who told the religious leaders “Caesar can have his idolatrous blood money, but give God your heart and your faith,” challenging the notion of an earthly ruler. My apostles wrote of the throne of man being empty—there are no masters or kings or governments, there is only Jesus Christ, Basileus Basileōn, king of kings. I believe in radical oneness with God through Christ—one flesh and one body, biblical marriage with the bridegroom whose flesh and blood make up the holy Eucharist. My faith is Queer, ancestral, esoteric, anarchist, insurrectionary, anticolonial, antiracist, unorthodox, disruptive, free. When I encounter the divine, or pray to the saints, or sit in the chapel to pray, I am experiencing communion with the sublime, in every sense of the word, the same presence that made the apostles fall to their faces before the transfiguration, that shaped the world from void, that animates the deep care and rage which boil into every aspect of my being.

When conservatives tell me I am not a Christian it is only because they cannot conceive of a Christ and a faith so big, so all encompassing, so beyond anything our human minds can comprehend, and they cannot conceive being in tune with this divinity and being left senseless by the knowledge that the divine above all else is us and loves us more than we could ever comprehend, such that experiencing this love is enough to leave one fundamentally, ontologically changed down to the fiber of their being. I feel sorrow for them. I pray that Christ may reach into their hearts and open their eyes, that they may see not only the horrors that they commit but also the deep love and freedom that awaits them through abandoning their fundamentalism and their bigotry.

Or, in other words, me every time I see another conservative Christian whining about how people aren’t doing Christianity right because they don’t adhere to a super narrow and watered down version of the faith:

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣

Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Is Y/N okay? Please tell me she’s okay?" Chan’s voice was laced with panic as they finally stepped into the house. His eyes were bloodshot, and so were Changbin’s—both of them were fully in alpha mode.

His body ached, but he could already feel his powers working, healing him rapidly. One thing about alphas: they always heal in hours, no matter the damage.

"Can we at least get you settled before you start panicking?" Leeknow scoffed, his tone exasperated. "You’re acting like you’re not bleeding right now."

"Oh, hyung!" Felix gasped, hands covering his mouth in shock. He looked terrified. "What happened to you guys?" His omega was whimpering anxiously, and Felix’s hands shook as he tried to move closer, but Seungmin held him back.

"We’re fine, Lix. Just a little damage control," Changbin teased, waving it off.

"You guys can't keep doing this to me. I’m too pregnant to be stressed out every time you walk through that door!" Felix huffed, pouting in frustration.

"Come here, sweetie," Chan said softly, holding out his uninjured hand. Seungmin released his hold on Felix’s waist, and Felix waddled towards his pack alpha, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away.

"You must have been so worried, hm?" Chan kissed the younger boy gently and began to scent him, his fingers gently brushing through Felix’s hair as Felix clung to him tightly, unwilling to let go.

"Yes, I was... I can’t lose you guys too," Felix sniffled, his voice trembling.

"I'm fine," Chan assured him, his voice steady. "I’m right here, and so is Changbin. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon." He kissed Felix’s forehead. "Go ahead and finish your dinner with I.N and Seungmin. We’ll be there soon, okay?" Chan noticed the food still on the table, realizing they had been in the middle of dinner.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" Felix asked again, his concern still clear.

"Positive," Chan replied with a reassuring smile. "You know me. I’ll heal in a few hours, and then I’ll tell you about my little adventure. I’ll come cuddle you tonight."

"Really?" Felix’s eyes widened, and his voice held a spark of excitement. Chan hadn’t been able to sleep with him the past week because of all the stress, so this meant a lot to Felix.

"Yeah, I promise," Chan said, his smile softening. "Now, go eat. We’ll join you soon."

Felix nodded, giving Chan a quick kiss on the cheek before waddling back to the dining room, rejoining the rest of the pack.

Leeknow sighed as he shifted his weight to help Chan, once again supporting him. "Let’s get you both cleaned up," he muttered.

"Binnie-hyung?" I.N’s voice called from across the room, his tone shy and hesitant.

"Yeah, I.N?" Changbin, who had been lounging on the couch, looked up at the younger boy. I.N was standing awkwardly, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Can you sleep with me tonight?" I.N asked quietly, his face turning even redder. He fidgeted, clearly embarrassed by his own request.

"Of course, love," Changbin replied with a warm smile. "You can always sleep with me."

I.N's face lit up with a huge grin, and he giggled, practically skipping off to the dining room, clearly thrilled.

"I swear, those boys love you more than they love us sometimes," Hyunjin grumbled, rolling his eyes as he helped Changbin off the couch.

"Pack alpha always wins," Chan said with a teasing smirk, his eyes glowing faintly red, clearly enjoying the banter. The other boys groaned in unison and rolled their eyes.

When Leeknow got Chan into his room, he couldn’t resist flicking the older alpha lightly on the forehead, earning a small grunt from him.

"Ow!"

"You idiot," Leeknow scolded as he carefully helped Chan sit down on the bed. "No way you went and killed them without the rest of us. I thought you guys were just going to hunt."

"Leeknow, they saw us coming. Mark and the others were already in position. They wanted to finish it quickly, and I didn’t have a chance to react," Chan sighed but winced as Leeknow gently removed his clothes.

"Are the others injured, or was it just you?" Leeknow asked, his voice a mix of concern and frustration. He was trying to stay calm, but it was clear he was upset about Chan's reckless decision.

"No, everyone else is fine," Chan reassured him. "They’re coming over tomorrow for dinner to celebrate."

Leeknow sighed, nodding. "Well, I’ll need to go hunting for some meat then," he said, focusing on wrapping Chan's wounds.

"H-how’s Y/N?" Chan asked, his face twisted in pain as he winced again. His thoughts were clearly on his luna, and Leeknow could see it in his eyes.

"She’s doing okay," Leeknow replied, his expression softening. "She let Han in today, but..." he hesitated. "She’s still not letting anyone into the bond. She’s rejecting even Hyunjin."

Chan’s expression dropped. "Yeah, I figured. My bite mark still feels like it’s burning," he said with a defeated sigh.

"She’ll come around, Hyung," Leeknow said gently, pausing to adjust the bandage on Chan's arm. "Time will heal things. You did what you needed to. Now we just need to give her space to heal, too."

"What am I supposed to do, Leeknow?" Chan asked, looking up at him, his eyes filled with frustration and self-doubt. "I handled the rogues, but I can’t fix what they did to her. I can’t make it right. It feels like she’s still hurting, and I don’t know how to help her. I thought I’d feel better, but it’s like I’m suffocating… and I can’t fix it..." His voice trailed off, heavy with the weight of his words.

Leeknow paused, seeing the pain in Chan's eyes. Without saying a word, he leaned in and placed a firm, comforting kiss to his forehead.

"Hyung, you really need to stop blaming yourself, actually...we all need to stop blaming ourselves," Leeknow said, his voice full of quiet conviction. "You’ve done what you needed to. Time will heal everything, but you can’t do it all. You took care of the rogues, but now we need to give her the space to heal. We can’t keep dwelling on the past. Felix needs you, and so does she."

Chan let out a long breath, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body, but his worry for Y/N was still there. "I’m trying to be there for them both," he murmured. "Everyone expects me to hold it together, and I just don’t know how."

"Chan," Leeknow sighed, rolling his eyes at the older alpha’s stubbornness. "You’ve got a thick head, don’t you?" He chuckled softly. "You can’t fix everything right now. Time will take care of things. Let’s focus on the positives. Y/N is back home, Felix is healthy. We have that."

"Yeah," Chan agreed, finally giving in to Leeknow’s words. "You’re right."

"I know I am," Leeknow said with a grin. "Now, go take a shower, you’re a mess. And while you’re at it, tell me everything about your little killing hunt later."

Chan couldn’t help but smile at Leeknow’s playful tone, feeling a bit lighter. "Alright, alright," he chuckled. "I’ll go clean up, but you better not skip dinner, go eat."

"oh please! how can i eat with you rascals running around." chan stuck his tongue out as he slowly limped into the bathroom.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Hyunjin finally helped Changbin get dressed in pajamas after a shower (the alpha didn’t really need help, he just wanted Hyunjin’s attention), they both made their way downstairs into the dining hall, where everyone was already sitting, including Minho and Chan.

"What took you guys so long?" Seungmin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"SOMEONE," Hyunjin rolled his eyes and pointed at Changbin, "Wanted me to help him shower and get dressed," he huffed as he took his seat.

"Okay, first of all," Changbin gasped dramatically, holding his chest, "I just got back from a killing hunt. Can’t I ask for a little love and attention from my wife?" He playfully nuzzled his nose into Hyunjin’s neck, earning a surprised moan from him.

"Hyung!" Hyunjin smacked his chest lightly before rubbing his sensitive gland, his face flushed.

"Oh, you two definitely fucked," Seungmin snickered, and the room erupted into laughter.

"We did not!" Hyunjin screeched in embarrassment, his face turning bright red.

"We did too!" Changbin teased, poking Hyunjin’s stomach.

"Ugh, why are you always so...horny?" Hyunjin rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated, though a small smile tugged at his lips. The room was now thick with alpha scent, mixing with the betas' as the tension shifted.

"I'm the one who's horny?" Changbin shot back, but before they could continue, a small voice interrupted.

"Hyung? You’re back?" Han’s voice was soft, his nervousness clear as he stood in the doorway. Chan’s eyes flickered red as he recognized the familiar sweet scent of mangoes and peaches. His omega had arrived.

"Hey, baby," Chan stood immediately, his concern clear as he walked toward Han, who looked hesitant to enter the room.

"Yes, I’m back, my love. Are you okay?" Chan pulled Han into a gentle hug, sensing the exhaustion and sadness hanging around him. Han’s posture was tense, and Chan could feel the weight of the day on him.

"I’m... fine," Han whispered, though his voice trembled slightly. "Just tired."

"Hyunjin..." Han glanced over at him. "Can you—"

"Of course," Hyunjin said, standing up to make a plate of food for Y/N. "I’ll bring it up, don’t worry."

Han gave him a soft smile of gratitude as Hyunjin left the room, carefully carrying the food upstairs.

"She’s asleep, so she’ll be up in a bit for her medicine," Han sighed. He felt Chan's eyes studying him, the weight of his gaze making him uneasy. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Chan’s eyes.

"Do you want to talk, my love?" Chan’s voice was tender, but there was concern behind it.

"Not right now, hyung," Han answered softly. "I just need to eat. I’m tired, and I don’t want to talk."

"Did something happen?" Chan pressed, his voice thick with worry. He couldn’t ignore the way Han had been blocking everyone out, even from the bond.

"No, Chan, it’s just..." Han’s voice broke, his lip trembling. "It’s just... being in that room with her. She’s not getting any better."

"Don’t say that," Felix said, his voice tight as he stood up. "Maybe if I go see her, it’ll help. Maybe I can do something."

"No, Felix," Leeknow’s voice was firm, his tone shifting to something serious.

"Why can’t I go see her?" Felix’s voice was laced with confusion. "Why are you all keeping something from me? Does she not want me there?" His eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

Leeknow sighed, his gaze shifting away as he answered through the bond talking to only chan so no one else could hear. She doesn’t want him there because of... his situation. Don’t tell him, Chan.

Chan’s expression hardened, but he nodded in understanding. I won’t.

Felix’s frustration was building. "I can see you guys talking through the bond! Why are you hiding something from me? Does she not want to see me?" His voice cracked with hurt.

"I already said no, Felix," Leeknow said, his tone sharper now.

Felix’s eyes watered as he stood there, looking between them. "What are you not telling me, hyung? I can feel you lying through the bond. Just tell me the truth!"

Leeknow exhaled sharply, frustration evident. He stormed out of the room without another word.

"Leeknow, wait!" Felix called, immediately getting up to follow. As he passed Chan and Han, Han reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Just... let him cool off," Han said quietly. "I’ll explain everything. But i need to eat first."

Felix’s eyes softened as he looked at Han. "She doesn’t want to see me, does she?" His voice was breaking now, tears welling up in his eyes. "I knew it."

Before Han could answer, Felix yanked his hand away and quickly turned toward the door.

"Felix, wait!" Chan cursed under his breath before running after the omega.

Seungmin, who had been watching the entire exchange, sighed dramatically. "Well, screw this," he muttered, getting up and heading to the fridge. "I need a drink to deal with all of this."

"Pour me one too," Changbin added, slumping down in his chair. "I can’t keep up with this pack anymore."

Han let out a long sigh, sitting down at the table and serving himself some food. "Tell me about it," he muttered before pouring himself a glass of soju.

"I heard she’s talking again," I.N asked, also helping himself to a drink. "At least that’s a good sign, right?"

"Yeah, we’ve had some conversations," Han replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "But mostly... she just cried. About... everything."

"The pup?" I.N asked softly, glancing at Han with concern.

"Yeah," Han said, looking away. "It’s so draining, I thought I could handle it, but being in that room... it’s like I’m sinking."

Seungmin nodded sympathetically. "I get it. When they brought her in, I could barely look at her. I thought I was going to break down too."

"At least she’ll talk to you guys," Changbin said with a groan, his shoulders slumping. "She won’t even let us near her. I can’t wait for all of this to be over."

"Same," I.N, Seungmin, and Han all agreed in unison.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: can these guys actually stop stressing felix tf out

Taglist: @ihrtlix@bowsnbang@katsukis1wife@thegingerthatwaited@thicccurls

@xxeiraxx @paleangelsweets @klaydohart @eastleighsblog @ivrespace

@galaxy4489 @purplepursepaint @catlove83 @sillystormsstuff @iwuberic

@cocofia143 @royal-shinigami @virluna148 @galaxycatdrawz @memersanonymous

@skz-stay13 @seungminsbest @hogwartslife64 @sinfulfic @hyunnesblog

@maisyyyyyy @cluelessred3 @leezanetheofficial @cocofia143 @lemonn015

@kkamismom12 @mei0packet @igetcarriedawaywithyou @hyuneyeon @iris-iiridescent

@mbioooo0000 @newbbystay @hanniemylovelyquokka @jc003 @kokinu09

@aalexyuuuhm @kenaicantcommunicate @fiestaplum-skz @silentreadersthings

[jhoneybees]

Little Precious.

Hey lovelies!!! Here's a cute little fic, just getting back into the groove now so for the ones waiting on requests, thank you so so much for waiting, I will get to them very soon😭🫂

The song in the fic:

Characters: Early!70s X innocent!reader

Warnings/triggers: scolding, crying, slight name calling, mostly fluff though :)

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @theelvisprincess @i-r-i-n-a-a @thelonelyheart @polksaladava @hooked-on-elvis

_____________________________________________

Sniffling quietly, a trembling hand wiping under your nose and gripping at the fabric of your dress. You hiccup out a little sob.

You've upset Elvis, the man you love, the man who cares for you, the man who said to not go out of Graceland’s grounds without him and the man who scolded you for doing just that.

You just wanted to buy him a gift, a pretty ring that was displayed in a shop's window. Just wanted to bring a smile to his face but you being mobbed by fans only brought a furious frown.

Jerry was there, you weren't alone. You thought that would be enough protection but clearly you thought wrong and Elvis had to make sure that sunk into your skull.

__

“How many times have I told ya?” He growled.

“Didn't wanna listen to me, huh?”

“Don't need me ta keep you safe anymore. Go out there and be taken away by god knows who.” His anger filled eyes piercing through your poor little heart making it tremble.

“Silly damn girl.”

__

You know he was trying to make you realise that he's right, he's always right, you were scared when those fans swarmed you.

You didn't know any better.

And now, you're crying, alone in his bedroom.

Pitifully crying on the edge of the huge bed. Hitching and hiccuping hurting your sore throat, your wilting heart pitter patters in your chest. You try your best to wipe away the tears blurring your vision but it's no use, your terrifying thoughts have taken over your brain.

“Baby…”

What if he's leaving you?

“Darlin'.”

What if he doesn't love you anymore? What if he's kicking you out?

“Honey.”

What if he-

“Sweetheart.” Your gaze rushes up to the sound, kneeling in front of you on the floor. Blue eyes that were once filled with daggers now watch you with softness as little whimpers and cries leave your parted lips, the sight of his small smile growing on his face makes you suddenly burst into a waterfall of tears.

Your heart just can't take all of this all at once.

“Oh honey…” His large hands gently reach up to touch your face, prying your hands away to hold them when you try to hide and his thumbs stroke your knuckles, in a gentle, loving way. A way that he knows you love.

“I-I-I’m so s-sorry, E-Elvis. I-I didnt mean- I-” Your words come out muddled, your cracking little voice, not knowing what to do with itself. You’re overwhelmed.

He scolded you but…

“Aw my little angel…” He coos, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as your body jolts with hiccups and sniffles.

…now comforting you.

“C’mere.” Pulling your frame into his strong embrace, Elvis sits himself up on the bed with you, rubbing his hand on the side of your waist and pushing your legs in to wrap around and be pressed against his body as much as possible as you sit in his lap, his other hand goes to hold your head, guiding it to rest on his shoulder.

You grip onto his shirt, hiding the rest of your head with a raised shoulder wanting to be protected from all the bad things of this world, your poor racing heart hammering in your chest as your eyes close, feeling his warmth surround you.

“I should be the one apologising… That wasn’t right fer me to yell at ya, aye?” He says in a low rumble. Pressing his lips to the top of your head as another small hiccup emits. “Ah jus’ got worried. Didn’t want ta see my baby get hurt. I’m sorry.”

“M-Mhm…” You respond quietly, playing with the collar of his low cut shirt you can feel your cheeks warm from him moving a little to get a better look at you. Delicately holding your chin up with his thumb and fingers.

“You’re still my good little girl?” He smiles hopefully, eyes admiring yours lovingly as his other arm tightens around your figure. Wiping the last of your tears with his thumb whilst you nod and take a deep breath.

Giving you a kiss on the forehead followed with a hum and tiny squeeze, he murmurs into your ear, his deep honey voice sending you up into the clouds. “That’s good.”

“Wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have my little princess…She fills my life with love and so much happiness…” He hums.

“She turned my life into pink.” Making you giggle knowing your favourite colour is pink. “There's my baby.”

~

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

"La vie en rose"

~

"Little Precious..."

[jess-the-vampire]

Whos the white vampire who's friends with archie? I love their design !

Oh this is Dusk! Someone asked about archie having friends so i went about designing him some and came out with Dusk.

Dusk is a witch from another different island who has immigrated to the BI quite recently.

this sets an interesting dynamic with archie because he's grown up in a world where everyone is more then aware of his ortet, and therefore has prejudgments regarding him, even when they don't mean to.

So he's used to being talked about, judged, and gawked at, not to mention the people who think he's belos reincarnated or are worried he will only bring bad news.

But Dusk? Dusk and their family weren't there for the events of the show, they have no former opinons on belos or were directly harmed by him. So Dusk is maybe the first time archie has met someone he feels he has a complete blank slate with.

And Dusk is more then happy to make friends since they only just moved here, have someone to show them around.

Most kids don't get too close to archer given they may be targeted by lingering cult members or of fear of being judged. But Dusk just sees archer as another kid who just was born into a bad situation, and they understand feeling outcast, after all they're the new kid.....and they were used to being bullied themselves back at their original home.

Dusk just doesn't care what others have to say about their friendship, they like archie, they know archie needs more support in his life outside of the adults who protect him, and they're ride or die for him.

They can't wait till they can meet up after school (Sadly they both go to different schools) to hang out, study, or bother archie at his jobs.

Dusk primarily studies in abominations and oracle magic, and is incredibly studious, they're a bit of an overachiever, and they like to experiment, They're incredibly curious and sometimes that makes them do dumb and irrational things.

They have a firm interest in finding new ways to use abomination magic, and like using oracle magic to prepare for future outcomes. They love fruit, they're terrified of water, and they won't hesitate to beat you up if you hurt archie.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Denial, Like the River

A Steddie fanfiction

A/N: Minors DNI. Warning, a little smutty. Tw, homophobia

Steve entered the RV, wincing at his wounds. He closed the door and locked it. He slipped off his jacket and then his shirt before grabbing the first aid kit. Just as he opened the box, he heard a loud whimpering. Steve paused and looked around for the sound. Was there an animal in here? He quickly found the source. Eddie was curled up behind the driver's seat, crying.

"Eddie?" Steve asked in concern.

Eddie stood up quickly and wiped his face. He grabbed the first aid kit from Steve.

"Here, let me help you with that," Eddie said, sniffling.

"Are you - no, what a stupid fucking question. Of course, you're not okay," Steve said, and Eddie snorted. "How are you holding up?"

There was a long pause as Eddie focused on unwrapping his bandages and cleaning his wounds. He was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed ointment on his bites. Eddie turned him around to work on the wounds on his arms and back as well. Even though it stung, Eddie's hands also felt good.

"Honestly, trying not to go crazy and trying to stay sane for the kids, too," he finally replied.

"Oh, man, you don't have to do that. I think they don't want to admit how scared they are, hell, I'm scared, too," Steve said.

"You are?" Eddie asked as he finished putting the new bandages on Steve.

Steve turned around to face Eddie again and leaned against the table.

"Of course, just because we've all been through this before doesn't mean that this isn't still terrifying as shit for all of us. I think we've just gotten used to focusing on what's important, and that's saving this town. . .saving you," Steve said. "Man, Dustin's terrified of losing you. He loves you, and I can kind of see why. You're not alone, Eddie."

Steve hated the way his bottom lip quivered and the way his big brown eyes filled with tears. They were very doe-y eyed. The tears spilled over, and Eddie let out a sob. It broke Steve’s heart.

"Everything I touch - Chrissy - I, I'm fucking cursed," Eddie cried.

"No, man, you're not cursed, this fucking town is," Steve said softly.

He stood up and pulled Eddie into his arms. He squeezed him tightly despite the fact that his wounds were killing him. Eddie's body shook as he cried into Steve’s shoulder. Steve cradled the back of his head and began running his hand through his hair. Well, he tried to. Eddie's hair was badly tangled. Eddie winced and hissed as Steve’s fingers snagged at a knot. They both laughed, and that brief moment of comedic relief allowed Eddie to catch his breath. The sniffles subsided, and Eddie went quiet as he continued to keep his head tucked in the crook of Steve’s neck. Eddie let out a sigh as he pulled back. Steve freed a hand and wiped away Eddie's tears, causing a smile to appear on his face. Eddie moved, and suddenly, they were kissing. Everything went blank and fuzzy. There were no thoughts in Steve’s head as he immediately responded to the kiss. It took him a few seconds, but Steve finally realized what was happening. He pulled away.

"What are we doing?" Steve asked.

"You never made out with a friend before?" Eddie asked.

"No," Steve said. "Have you?"

"All the time with Jeff. We're nerds who can't get girls. . .I mean, except that one girl who slept with me as a dare. We like to call it lip hugging," Eddie said and paused, looking sad. "I thought maybe, Chrissy. . ."

"I'm sure she would have, man, without it being a dare. You're hot. . .for a guy," Steve said, and Eddie laughed. "And you're a good man."

"Thanks. . .and thanks for the lip hug, man," Eddie winked. "You're really good at it."

"Thanks for patching me up," Steve said with a smile, and Eddie moved to leave. "Eddie?"

Eddie turned around to face him, looking happier than he did before.

"Yeah?"

"Are we - I mean, are we friends?" Steve asked.

Eddie moved closer to him and brushed a knuckle to Steve’s chin.

"Definitely, big boy," Eddie said and placed a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before bouncing out of the RV.

"EDDDIEEE!"

A chill shot through Steve as he came back from the Creel House with Nancy and Robin when he heard Dustin's scream. Their victory of defeating Vecna and watching his body burning to a crisp was short-lived. Steve shared a look with Nancy and Robin. He didn't hesitate. He took off, running in the direction of Dustin's screams. Dustin was leaning over Eddie's body when they found him. Eddie was covered in blood, surrounded by bat bites, and lying so still. . .Steve felt a cold feeling shoot through his chest. He collapsed next to Eddie.

"Steve, he's not breathing," Dustin sobbed.

Steve felt his stomach wrench, and he wanted to throw up at the look in Dustin's eyes. Steve pressed his ear to Eddie's chest and cursed. He told him not to be a hero, and what did he do? Steve immediately started to perform CPR. Eddie gasped against his mouth and Steve tried not to think about the last time he felt Eddie's lips against his. He pulled back.

"Eddie's breathing! Get to the gate! Now!" Steve yelled as he pulled Eddie into his arms. "Before it closes!"

Nancy and Robin immediately helped Dustin to the gate while Steve did the same with Eddie. He wasn't sure how he was managing to carry Eddie to the gate, but he could guess that it was adrenaline. They helped Steve get Eddie through the gate, and they didn't wait to watch it close before rushing to the hospital. Everything after that happened so fast. Them wheeling Eddie away, not being able to see him, Hopper coming back, and Dr. Owens storming in with a cover story. While most people seemed to buy it, there were still others who weren't quite believing it. So, while Eddie needed to finish his healing, Steve was quick to offer up his house to hide Eddie. He offered it up to Wayne, too, but he said he was staying with a friend, and judging by the way he said it, Steve figured that this friend was a special one. He did give Wayne a key and told him he could stop by whenever he could, which he did. Steve loved it. It felt a lot more cheerful with them both hanging around.

"What's on the tube?" Eddie asked as he plopped on the couch.

It's been several few weeks of healing for both of them. Although Steve had gotten finished faster than Eddie. Their scars were still quite hard to look at it and it was definitely hard to wear shirts, so they went shirtless whenever they could. Steve and Eddie were currently shirtless now, sprawled out on the couch.

"Absolutely nothing," Steve sighed.

"Bummer," Eddie said, crossing his arms, and then glanced over at Steve. "So, you never said how you feel about things ending between you and Wheeler again."

"Actually, it went better than before. We were both a lot more honest with each other, and we're both happy that we tried again. We no longer feel ashamed about what happened that night, and we both know now that we'll always love each other. We, uh, both want different things. So, actually, I feel really good about it," Steve said.

"Well, that's great, man, really," Eddie grinned. "I, uh, never thanked you."

"For what?" Steve asked.

"For carrying me out of hell," Eddie said. "For saving my life."

"I was happy to do it, Eddie, I'm glad you're here," he said softly.

Eddie leaned over and pressed his lips to Steve’s. He cupped the back of Eddie's head and responded eagerly. They haven't done this since the RV, and honestly, Steve had been looking forward to it. He missed the feeling of Eddie's lips. He groaned when Eddie pulled back.

"I just want to thank you, Stevie," Eddie said. "What better way than to give you another lip hug?"

"I'm going to need another hug," Steve whispered.

"Gladly," Eddie said.

"There's nothing on TV anyway," he said.

"Noted."

Eddie climbed into his lap, placing his legs on either side of his hips. He kissed Steve, matching his eagerness from earlier. Steve gasped into his mouth, letting Eddie slip his tongue inside. He placed his hands on Eddie's hips, encouraging him to move them. Eddie rocked his hips and grinded against his clothed hardening cock. A feeling of euphoria rose up inside of Steve. He never felt like this with another man. . .well, he never had another man ride him like Eddie was currently doing. Although there were times with Tommy when they would wrestle, that Steve’s stomach and chest would grow warm. He always chalked it up to getting hot. No, Steve was even warmer than those times he rolled around with Tommy. He moved his hands up Eddie's back and then to his stomach to move them up, gently caressing his scars.

He cupped Eddie's nippleless pec, running his thumb over the scar. It was just as good as cupping a breast. The way Eddie shuddered underneath him told Steve he liked it, but he stopped moving his hips, and his kissing grew softer. Steve broke the kiss, pulled him closer, and shifted him until Steve was to face where Eddie's nipple used to be. He kissed the spot gently at first. Eddie sighed and moaned, curling his fingers into Steve’s hair. He grew more passionate with his kisses, opening his mouth over it. Steve took the bit of skin in his mouth and sucked on it like he would a nipple. Eddie let out a curse. Steve knew he wasn't completely healed yet and that there was some pain, so he pulled back, but Eddie tugged on his hair, keeping him there. Steve bit down.

"JESUS H CHRIST!"

Steve smirked as he pulled away, looking at Eddie.

"You can just call me Steve," he replied.

Eddie flashed his dimples at Steve before sliding off his lap and down to the floor onto his knees. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of Steve’s sweats and boxers. Steve watched with interest as Eddie started sliding them down, and he lifted his hips to help Eddie out. He peeled them all the way off, leaving Steve naked before him except for his socks. Eddie spread Steve’s legs apart and looked down, his eyes dark.

"Big boy, indeed. . .it's not gay if I say it's not gay especially if I'm only thanking you for saving my life, right?" Eddie asked.

"Sounds logical to me," Steve said.

"Hmm, looks like it could use a hug."

Eddie dove between his legs, taking Steve into his mouth.

"Fuck!"

Over the next few weeks, it all escalated from blowjobs to hand jobs, grinding naked against each other until it turned into full blow sex. Steve loved every minute of it. He loved the way Eddie manhandled him, and at the same time, he could be so gentle with him. He loved the way that they both switched as well as fought to be underneath or on top, biting each other and marking each other up along the way. They fucked in the showers, in the kitchen, and on the couch. They had luckily managed to avoid getting caught by Wayne. There were suddenly many situations where there was nothing on TV even when there were tons of stuff on. They didn't talk about it, what they were, or what they were doing. Steve should have known, though, that it was all over when Eddie started going out with Jeff and Doug.

"Oops, Sorry!" Steve heard a giggle come from the hallway and the sound of something breaking.

"Don't worry about it, my roommate's cool with it," Eddie said.

Steve was relaxing on the couch after working all day and giving rides to Dustin. He had hoped to finally cuddle on the couch with Eddie after not seeing him for the past couple of weeks. Eddie had gotten busy working on playing with Corroded Coffin again, and while he has been practicing here, he's mostly been practicing with the guys. Now, it was the first time he was seeing him, and Eddie had brought a girl home. What the fuck? Steve watched as Eddie moved past the entryway, kissing the girl and moving her back against the doorway. She had long strawberry blonde hair, and that was all he could see. Suddenly, Eddie broke the kiss and spotted Steve.

"You don't mind, do you?" Eddie asked.

Steve swallowed his hurt and smiled at him, as well as the bubbly girl in Eddie's arms.

"No, I don't."

"Except that you totally do mind," Robin said.

Steve was stacking videos a week later, and according to Robin, he was stacking them rather angrily.

"No, Robin, I really don't. It's basically his house, too," Steve said. "For whatever reason, they're taking a really long time to find Wayne and Eddie a place."

"Maybe Wayne moved in with his special friend and assumed that Eddie was happy living with you," Robin said.

"I mean, I would be happy if that was the case," Steve said. "I like having Eddie there."

"You don't seem to like having his girlfriend there," Robin pointed out.

"Rebecca is a really nice girl," Steve said. "I don't have a problem with her."

"Maybe you're just jealous," Robin said.

Steve’s eyes snapped to hers. Did she somehow know? He hadn't really been able to explain to Robin about what's been going on because he couldn't exactly tell her when he didn't know himself. . .especially about Eddie. No, she couldn't, right?

"What?" Steve asked.

"Eddie suddenly became your best friend while I've been busy getting closer to Vickie, and now you no longer have that. Plus, you're lonely, and you totally wish that you could have what we have," Robin said.

"Right, yeah," Steve scoffed.

"What did you think I meant?" Robin asked.

"Nothing, Robin," Steve said.

"Oh my God!" Robin exclaimed with wide eyes, and Steve cursed. "You have a crush on Rebecca!"

"Yeah, Robin. You got it. That's it," Steve scoffed again.

"Then what is it? I mean, judging by the way you're acting and your absolutely annoyance of Rebecca, I'd say you're jealous that she's with Eddie and you're not," Robin said and then snorted. "God, I make myself laugh sometimes. You're like the straightest man alive."

"Oh, yeah, Robin. You got me! I'm totally in love with Eddie! I want to kiss him and hold him. I totally want to marry him and have his babies," Steve rolled his eyes. "I wish I was Rebecca."

With a jolt, Steve realized that what he had said hadn't been sarcastic at all. He wanted all those things with Eddie. He thought about how he was with the kids, how he rants, how passionate he was, and despite how scary he pretended to be, he was the softest man alive, especially when he was with Steve. He missed being held by Eddie. He missed talking intimately with him, and he hated that Rebecca probably got to do all that with him. Except that Rebecca and Eddie hadn't known each other that long, so how intimate were they being? Does she know about his asshole of a father and Eddie's fear of turning into him? Does she share the same fear with him that Steve does about his own father? He wonders if she holds Eddie after a nightmare the way Steve used to do but now no longer gets to. He hates the idea of all of that and he hates being reminded of it when he hears them fuck through the walls. Oh god.

"Except that I - ," Steve swallowed thickly, looking at Robin with wide eyes. "Except that maybe - "

Robin stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth dropping in shock. Just as Steve was working up the courage to finish that sentence, the bell above the door rang as a customer entered. Steve stumbled as he went to greet the customer, almost blurting out the old Scoops Ahoy greeting as he did so. Steve could feel Robin's eyes on him all day, but she didn't push him to talk about it. He wondered if somehow he had always known about it but chose to ignore it. Steve’s thoughts turned to Vickie and remembered how adamant he had been about her liking girls. Did he somehow know then?

"Steve, are you even paying attention to me?" Dustin asked.

"What? Yeah, yeah, you were going on and about how cool Rebecca is," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "I still can't believe Eddie introduced Rebecca to you guys without talking to me."

Several weeks later, Steve was currently driving Dustin to Gareth's house for their Hellfire meeting. He didn't know why Eddie couldn't drive Dustin, but he supposed it was so he could make out with Rebecca in the back of Eddie's van.

"Why are you acting like you and Eddie are divorced parents?" Dustin asked.

"I'm not! I'm just saying a heads up would be nice!" Steve exclaimed.

"What's your problem with Rebecca, anyway?" Dustin asked.

"Nothing!" Steve yelled, gripping the steering wheel. "It's just - he's been spending all his time with her, and even though we live together - I, uh, I miss him. I miss him, okay?!"

"Well, shit, that makes sense," Dustin said, and then he grinned. "I knew you would like him!"

"I'm obsessed with him, and I definitely would call him my best friend," Steve said.

"Well, you know, he misses you, too," Dustin frowned. "He says you keep turning him down when he asks if you want to hang out with him and Rebecca."

"Have you seen them together?" Steve asked.

"They are pretty gross," Dustin said, scrunching up his nose. "But he said he's in love."

"He said that?" Steve asked, feeling his stomach drop.

"Yeah," Dustin said. "It's pretty obvious."

Steve had dropped Dustin off to find Eddie's van in front of Gareth's house. Eddie was leaning against the van, Rebecca pressed up against him as they laughed and kissed. They broke apart, and Eddie's eyes caught his. Eddie threw up his hand to wave, but Steve quickly backed out without looking at him and drove away. A few weeks later, Eddie announced that he was moving in with Rebecca.

"What?" Steve asked.

They were standing in the kitchen, looking for something to eat for dinner when Eddie dropped the bomb.

"Yeah, I figured it was time for me to move out. I mean, your parents probably are going to come back, despite what you think," Eddie said.

"They are definitely not coming back," he scoffed. "Do you not like living with me?"

"I don't think you like living with me," Eddie said.

"I love living with you!" Steve exclaimed.

"It doesn't seem like it," Eddie scowled. "Ever since I got with Rebecca, you've made it pretty clear that I've made myself too comfortable."

Eddie couldn't be this clueless, could he? Hell, Steve was pretty clueless for the longest time, so maybe he was.

"I miss hanging out with you, Eddie. . .without Rebecca!" Steve snapped, and he couldn't stop what happened next.

Steve cupped Eddie's face and smashed his lips to his, pouring everything he had into the kiss. He pulled away, looking at Eddie, who winced.

"Yeah, Rebecca says it's not cheating to get your guy friends off and hug them, but she still doesn't like it. She says it's gross," Eddie said. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."

Well, Rebecca had been such a nice girl, and for a moment, he had been guilty about being jealous and about kissing Eddie, knowing they were together. Now, he didn't feel guilty at all. Now, he wanted to rip out every single strand of hair from her head.

"Is that what you think we've been doing?" Steve asked in disbelief.

"We're not gay, Steve, so of course, that's what we've been doing," Eddie said.

"Well, we're not gay but we're definitely something," he said. "I mean, don't you feel it?"

"No," Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm in love with Rebecca."

Looking at Eddie right now, it felt like Steve had been transported back to that Halloween night in Tina's bathroom with Nancy telling him he was bullshit and that she didn't love him. It was the same punch to the heart that he had felt back then. God, Steve was stupid. He never felt as stupid as he did right now.

"I think - I think I'm going to take a nap," Steve muttered.

"Steve - ," Eddie started to say.

Steve walked out the front door. He didn't say where he was taking a nap, did he? Steve didn't realize that he was crying until he was halfway to Robin's, and his whole body was shaking so hard that he stopped the car for a moment. He managed to contain himself enough to continue driving. When he pulled up and got out, he could hear the sound of Robin's voice, as well as Vickie's coming from the backyard. Shit. He should turn back.

"Oh! I think I heard the sound of Steve’s car pulling up! Get your ass back here, Harrington!" Robin yelled.

It's too late now. Steve followed the sound of her voice and found her relaxing on the back porch with Vickie sitting between her legs.

"Hey," Steve said quietly. "Sorry, I didn't realize - "

"Shit," Robin said, getting up. "What happened?"

"I'm in love with Eddie," Steve said, his voice breaking.

Steve spent the next few days at Robin with Robin and Vickie working around the clock to try to lift his spirits. God, he loved Vickie. Just because she was Robin's girlfriend didn't have any obligation to be there for him. She clearly wanted to. When Steve finally returned home, all of Eddie's stuff was gone, and his key was on the counter. It nearly broke him again. There wasn't even a note.

"What did you do?" Mike asked.

A few weeks later, Nancy was away at Emerson, so Mike was now depending on him for rides to school with Lucas and Dustin. At least, on days when their parents couldn't do it. Today was one of those days.

"Why would you assume that I did anything?" Steve asked.

"Because you're you and Eddie's Eddie," Mike said. "He seemed pretty upset, and he was the one who moved out."

"Well, why would Steve be the one to move out? It's Steve’s parents' house," Lucas said.

"Besides, Steve’s not like that," Dustin scowled. "He wouldn't hurt Eddie."

"At least not intentionally," Lucas said.

"Steve hated people like us in high school," Mike said.

"And what reputable source are you getting that from?" Steve scoffed.

"Just. . .from people," Mike said.

"Yeah, I didn't have the greatest friends. They were assholes but I always tried to stop them from doing stupid shit. No one ever talks about that because people only see what they want to see. They see a guy who has everything. . .and they assume the worst about people like me because it's easier for them to believe that I'm an asshole rather than just someone who's just a person who tries to do what's right but who always been slow to realize what's important so he fails. Just like everyone else. I've always tried to stop Tommy and Carol, but the one time that I didn't. . .no matter how many times I apologize for that. . .it doesn't matter. It'll always be held over my head. . .no matter how many times I sacrifice myself and my health, I am never going to be enough," Steve said.

"You also broke Jonathan's camera," Mike pointed out.

"Oh my God! I apologized for that! I gave him a new one. I reacted out of anger, and I should have let Nancy handle that, considering. . .I don't suppose Jonathan told you why I broke his camera," Steve said.

"No," Mike said.

"Of course, he didn't," Steve said. "Look, I like Jonathan now, I even respect him and call him a friend, but he's not exactly a saint. . .There doesn't have to be a bad guy in situations like this. . .sometimes, shit just happens. Maybe you should get a ride from Jonathan from now on if you hate me so much. . .For the record, I never hated people like you in high school. Never."

"I don't hate you," Mike said softly.

"Then I don't get it," Steve said.

"Me neither," Mike said. "I'm sorry."

"Steve," Dustin said. "You're crying."

"I know."

"I'm really sorry, Steve," Mike said. "You are more than enough. I swear."

Mike had apologized profusely after that, and Steve had forgiven him, but it still left him feeling off. He wondered how many people still hated him for what happened in high school. Is that why Eddie's friends wouldn't come over to the house? Steve wondered how long he was going to be blamed for the actions of other bullying jocks, of not having the ability to know every single person in the school. No, fuck that. He was done apologizing. If people couldn't get past their own views of him, that their problem, not his. Steve was lounging out by the pool when Wayne showed up and sat in the lawn chair next to him.

"Hey, kid," Wayne said.

"Eddie's not - ," Steve said.

"I know, I came to see how you were holding up," Wayne said.

"I'm good," Steve shrugged.

"Well, that's a load of bull," Wayne said. "Something's eating you up, and I already know what it is."

"Eddie," Steve mumbled.

"Yeah. . .I hate that Rebecca," Wayne said.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Well, she's clearly homophobic, not that anyone can see that. Not even Eddie," Wayne sighed.

"That's because - ," he started to say and he quickly cut himself off.

"Yeah, I know. . .I know my boy, I was hoping he'd come to terms with himself and come to me when he was ready," he sighed again, and then he scowled. "She can say whatever she wants to me, but when she makes remarks like that towards Eddie. . ."

"You just want to rip all the hairs out of her head?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Wayne replied with a snort. "I don't know what happened, but you were better for him than she was. Don't look at me, like that, I've seen the way he looked at you and the way you looked at him. There's something still there."

"Yeah, I don't think so," he said.

Wayne sighed and stood up, pulling Steve up to his feet.

"No matter what happens, you're my boy, too," Wayne said. "I can never think you enough for doing what you did for me and Eddie. You're a good kid. Don't give up on him. He'll come around."

Wayne pulled Steve into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," Steve whispered.

Wayne ended up being right. A few weeks later, Eddie ended up in his doorstep in the pouring rain. Steve had stepped aside to let him in, but Eddie had quickly turned around, muttering under his breath. Steve chased after him, the rain soaking him immediately. He grabbed Eddie's arm and turned him around.

"I want to come back," Eddie said.

"What about Rebecca?" Steve yelled over the thunder, and the pouring rain.

"I broke up with her," Eddie said.

"Why?" Steve asked.

"She's not you," Eddie said.

"What are you saying?" Steve asked.

"I'm saying that I'm in love with you!" Eddie said.

Steve smiled, despite the fact that the rain was ruining his hair and that there was a definite chance that they could get sick tomorrow. There was a dreaded weight being lifted off his shoulders now.

"I'm in love with you, too," Steve said, moving towards Eddie. "Wait. What are you doing? Stay still."

"Nope! No way! There's no way I'm going to be a fucking cliche!" Eddie yelled as he ducked away from Steve’s arm.

It took him a minute, but Steve laughed when he realized where Eddie was coming from.

"Come on, Eddie! Give me a kiss!" Steve yelled.

"Nope!"

Eddie dodged Steve’s arms again, bobbing and weaving in Steve’s front yard. Steve ran after him, trying to stop him from getting to the front door.

"Eddie!" He giggled.

"I am NOT kissing you in the rain! That's too much!" Eddie shrieked.

"Oh, come on, you already told me you loved me in the rain. You're halfway there!" Steve said.

Eddie slipped in the mud but managed to get caught in Steve's arms. Steve squeezed him and smiled down at him.

"Ugh. . .don't you fucking say it, Harrington," Eddie said.

"Looks like you fell for me," Steve grinned. "I'm going to kiss you now."

"Don't you dare!"

Eddie didn't stop him when Steve leaned down and kissed him. In fact, he returned the kiss with a furious passion. Steve broke away, laughing.

"You're a fucking cliche, Eddie Munson," Steve said.

"Gah!"

The next day, Steve was right. They both got sick, but they both felt like it had been worth it. Wayne, Robin, and Vickie immediately came over to nurse them back to health. Plus, Steve was pretty sure they wanted to hear the story in person and get Eddie's stuff back from Rebecca. The three of them had laughed so hard when Steve told them how Eddie ran from him in the rain. Robin plopped down on the edge of Steve’s bed, Eddie lying next to him, as Wayne and Vickie went downstairs to make them some soup.

"Yeah, so, Rebecca is definitely homophobic," Eddie revealed.

"I fucking knew there was something about Rebecca that I just didn't like and it wasn't just because the slutty little tart was trying to steal my best friend's man," Robin said.

"You hear that, Stevie? I'm your man," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

"Yeah, baby, you are," Steve said before sneezing so hard that his head hit Eddie's.

"Ow!"

Wayne and Vickie came back with two trays of soup. They laid them down in front of them, Wayne tucking in both boys and brushing their hair back.

"You boys eat your soup and don't worry about a thing. We're going to get Eddie's stuff," Wayne said.

It didn't seem like they were gone very long, but it could have been because Eddie and Steve had nodded off as soon as they finished the soup. They woke up to the three of them moving Eddie's things into Eddie's bedroom. Robin was carrying a box, bloody tissues hanging from her nose.

"What the hell happened?" Steve asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, Rebecca wasn't too happy about us trying to take your things, so she put her hands on Vickie and called her the 'd' word," Robin said. "I had no choice, really. I had to punch her."

"It was so sexy," Vickie said.

"I brought you back a trophy," Robin said and dropped strands of strawberry blonde hair onto the bed. "Don't worry, I left behind most of it."

"Damn," Eddie grinned. "Go, Buckley. Thanks for doing all of this."

"Don't worry about it, kid. You boys just focus on getting better. No more kissing in the rain," Wayne said.

"I told you nothing good comes from kissing in the rain," Eddie said to Steve.

Wayne rolled his eyes and gathered up the soup trays, taking them out of the room.

"I'm glad you guys figured out your shit," Robin said as she put away Eddie's things. "Although, for the longest time, I didn't know there was shit to figure out."

"I'm sorry that we were so clueless," Steve said with a grin.

"Ah, you're forgiven. Easily," Robin smiled.

"Still not gay," Eddie said.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "We've admitted that we're in love with each other. How are you still in denial?!"

"Sorry, sweetheart," Eddie cackled. "I thought I was being funny. We're a little gay."

"Do you guys not know what I am?" Vickie asked, squinting her eyes at them.

"Uh, a redhead?" Eddie asked, and Robin snorted. "Unless. . .you're not?"

"Babe, did I not tell them? I could have sworn that I did," Vickie said as she helped put Eddie's clothes in Steve's drawers.

"I don't think you did," Robin said.

"Well, I'm bisexual. I like men and women. . .OH, CRACKERS!" Vickie yelled as she accidentally closed her thumb in the drawer.

"Crackers? What's a cracker?" Steve whispered to Eddie.

"Maybe it's someone who's both a man and woman?" Eddie asked in confusion.

"Maybe it's someone who's got no gender at all," Steve said, snapping his fingers.

"But why would they be called crackers?" Eddie asked.

"Because crackers have no gender," Steve said.

"Makes sense," Eddie said.

"Does it?" Robin asked. "What's wrong with you?"

"Crackers also have salt, and tears have salt in them," Steve said.

Robin frowned and pressed her hands to their foreheads.

"Wayne! Their temperatures have spiked!" Robin yelled.

"I found the medicine!" Wayne yelled!

"We'll talk about it again when you guys are feeling better," Vickie giggled.

The next day, once their fever had broken, they had talked about it at great length. . .about what it all meant for them. Steve was curled up on Eddie's chest, running his hands gently over his scars.

"I bet Jeff never got this far," Steve said.

"No, not even close. That was just lip hugging. . .oh my god, I can't believe how dumb I was," Eddie laughed.

He sighed as his boyfriend pressed kisses into his hair. Steve giggled. Boyfriend.

"Lip hugging. . .it's cute," Steve said.

"So, why did Dustin tell me that I need to kill of Mike's character?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, Mike was just being an asshole teenager, and he was just being protective of you," Steve said.

"Dustin said he made you cry," Eddie said.

"Oh, I mean, yeah," he said. "But it's fine, you don't have to kill his character."

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't at least try?" Eddie asked. "God, I'm so fucking lucky."

It was the first time hearing it come from Eddie's mouth. He climbed up and straddled Eddie's wasn't, kissing him deeply. It felt so much more real now that they were no longer in denial. The walls they had put up were falling down around them as they fell into deep acceptance, wrapping up in each other's warm embrace.

[rodanhoax]

Jaune: *Wielding the relic of destruction* It's over Pyrrha! Give me back my son!

Pyrrha: Don't you mean, "our" son?

Jaune: Pyrrha... y-you look so different.

Pyrrha: I did a little something with my hair. And my lips.

Jaune: Are those thigh highs?

Pyrrha: So you noticed those too?

Ironwood: Okay Jaune, take the shot.

Pyrrha: What do you think of them?

Jaune: I uh... um-

Ironwood: She's standing right there, Jaune. Take the shot.

Pyrrha: Do you like my open bust dress~?

Jaune: Oh god yeah.

Qrow: What the hell is wrong with you?!

Port: Blast this harpy!

Jaune: I'm sorry guys, b-but I cant.

Port: The shrew has been forged from brimstone.

Qrow: Translation?

Ironwood: He's saying she's an evil clone.

Jaune: I hear ya. Counterpoint:

Jaune: She's really hot.

Qrow: Damn it Arc!

Port: Reject women! Embrace huntsmanship!

Ironwood: Can't you see how evil she is?!

Pyrrha: I'm going for the goth girlfriend look.

Jaune: Okay guys, I know she's an evil clone... But, she is the mother of my child. To be honest, this situation is confusing as hell for me. I... I'm tapping out.

Qrow: Tapping out?

Ironwood: You're a huntsman, you can't tap out.

Jaune: Dude, I'm tapping out.

Port: What would Ozpin think of this treason?

Jaune: The professor?

-Flashback-

Ozpin: You're like a son to me Jaune, I trust you with my very life. I want you to know that I keep a gun in hidden inside my cane. It's always with me Jaune. I sleep with it. I dream of it. You can never be too careful around these students-

Jaune: It's not working, he... keeps talking about guns.

Ironwood: Guns?

Jaune: Yeah.

Qrow: That doesn't sound right.

Pyrrha: Are you sure this isn't his evil clone?

Jaune: He kind of hinted it was for... self defense?

Port: Guns are nothing before my axe!

Qrow: Isn't your axe also a gun?

Port: Silence!

Ironwood: You don't think the professor actually used it do you?

Jaune: Do I think the professor shot someone? No, of course not. That's like totally ridiculous. Besides, we would have heard about it.

Pyrrha: He could have just wiped your memories.

Jaune: What?

Pyrrha: He could have shot someone then wiped everyone's memories about the event. With his magic it would have been easy for him.

Jaune: This is a terrifying thought.

Ironwood: Don't listen to her Jaune!

Pyrrha: Join me Jaune. The Grimm Queen needs a king.

Jaune: Not gonna lie, Grimm Queen is kind of weird, but i'm in.

Port: Step away from her you fool!

Jaune: I'm kind of bricked up at the moment.

Qrow: Don't worry Arc, I know this ain't easy. That's why I offer myself... as a sacrifice. Do what you want to me Pyrrha, make me your freaky sex puppet for all I care. Just let Arc go!

Port: What a noble gesture!

Ironwood: He is truly the best of us.

Qrow: Tie me up. Slap me. Step on me! It's alright, my ego ain't that big. Just leave the kid out of this!

Jaune: I know what you're doing.

Qrow: You ain't gotta thank me Jaune. Y'know... I really shoulda said this sooner, but... but you're like a brother to me!

Jaune: You've always had a thing for her.

Qrow: Oz would've been proud of ya, kid. I know I sure as hell am.

Jaune: You can't just live out your sick fantasies with my fake goth girlfriend!

Port: Your words can no longer reach him... His heart is set.

Ironwood: We shall remember you, Qrow... We shall remember you.

Qrow: So Pyrrha... How ya wanna do this? Should I take off the cape now, or-

Pyrrha: Sorry, Qrow, but you're a little old for my taste. Not to mention a furry.

Qrow: Furries deserve love!

[httpvomitello]

If it's okay with you can we please have a reader who has wings instead of hands x rise turtles where the reader likes to pick them up and fly with them at random. (Probably has to perch on raph but oh well.)

But anyways they'll get the turtles to do stuff for them they can't do. (Like microwaving food.)

Owwn, that's cute. Hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Feathered Love *⁠.⁠✧

The first time you swoop down and grab him mid-stride, he lets out the loudest, most dramatic scream

“¡Dios mío, I’m too young to die!” he yells, flailing until he realizes it’s just you.

Once he calms down, he plays it cool, acting like he wasn’t terrified. “Oh, you wanted a piece of this? Understandable.”

Secretly loves the thrill

He’ll start teasing you with fake warnings when he knows you’re about to fly off

“We flying to the moon today, featherbutt?”

Once you perch him on a rooftop, he immediately pulls out his phone to take selfies, claiming it’s for “mission intel.”

At first, Leo is confused when you ask for help with small tasks, like microwaving your food

“Wait, you can fly but you can’t press a button?” he teases, already on his way to help

He’ll make a show of it, dramatically placing your food in the microwave. “Behold, the Great Leonardo, Master of the Microwave!”

Secretly loves being able to help you, even with simple stuff

He’ll even start adding little flourishes, like garnishing your food before handing it over.

The first time you lift him, he’s completely stunned. “WHAT THE—PUT ME DOWN!”

But once he realizes you’re strong enough to carry him safely, he relaxes (sort of)

“THIS IS AMAZING!” he smile, loving the view.

Definitely becomes your personal perch

His broad shoulders and solid frame make it the perfect spot to rest after a flight

If you swoop in while he’s training, he’ll roll his eyes but allow it. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Low-key protective. “If you get tired, don’t push it, alright? I don’t need you getting hurt.”

The moment you ask for help, he’s already doing it without a second thought

“You need this heated up? Got it.”

He’ll carry your plate back to you carefully, grumbling about how the microwave beeps too many times

If anyone teases you about needing help, Raph is quick to shut them down. “They’ve got wings, what’s your excuse?”

Starts learning what you like so he can prep stuff ahead of time. “Made you some noodles earlier. Just need to heat ‘em up.”

The first time you pick him up, he’s annoyed. “Excuse me, I am conducting highly important research!”

Mid-flight, he’s already analyzing the physics. “Fascinating. Your wingspan must generate significant lift to carry my weight.”

Once he gets used to it, he starts requesting flights for “aerial reconnaissance” of his inventions

Loves the practical applications of your abilities, but don’t expect him to admit he enjoys the experience

“For science, of course. This has nothing to do with the exhilaration of flight.”

If you drop him off on a high rooftop to test one of his drones, he’ll praise your precision but remind you: “No sudden drops, darling. My heart isn’t built for such shocks.”

Donnie initially suggests creating a custom gadget for you to handle small tasks. “Why rely on others when technology can assist?”

But until then, he’s happy to help, albeit in his own way. “Your reliance on me has its perks. Now, let’s adjust your caloric intake.”

He’ll program the microwave to the exact time and temperature for optimal results, refusing to let you settle for less

“Perfection takes precision, my feathered love.”

Also insists on taste-testing anything you ask him to heat up. “Quality control is essential, after all.”

Absolutely loves it from the get-go. “WHEEEE! I’m flying, baby!”

He spreads his arms out like he’s Peter Pan™ every time you lift him, fully embracing the ride

Constantly begs for “airtime.” “C’mon, Y/N! Just one more lap around the lair!”

You often catch him jumping up and down, yelling, “Take me, winged guardian!”

Loves being perched somewhere high, where he can “survey his kingdom.”

If you fly him at night with a great view, he’ll insist on having a mini picnic up there. “Best date idea ever, right?”

Mikey thinks it’s adorable when you ask for help. “Aww, don’t worry, I gotcha!”

He’ll happily microwave your food and even plate it up like a five-star chef. “Presentation is key, my love!”

Sometimes he gets overly enthusiastic and starts adding sauces or sides without you asking. “Trust me, this combo is fire.”

If you ask him for anything else—like reaching for things or opening jars—he does it with a little flourish. “Mikey at your service!”

Will absolutely turn it into a fun routine. “Okay, Y/N, what’s today’s special?”

[problemcore]

hiiii halfway? thru the story. hard as hell to avoid spoilers online i need to stay away 😭 rant in tags, spoilers for 2.2 . i already reached 30 tags wow 💀

[hauntingblue]

Skypiea time

Robin saying that because I know she only got on a ship to then leave it...

Nami sees Conis and gets sanji out of there so SHE can talk to her akdhksajka not a single second lost

Hello my favourite panel of nami maybe ever

Sillies...

CHOPPER YOU ARE THE CUTEST

Robin throws this guy off a cliff and to make just to make sure she breaks his neck too akdjsksk who is doing it like her???

OMG ACE!!!! IT IS TIME!!!!

[fanaticalthings]

While I do find it funny that henchmen in Gotham probably warn each other about the Red Hood because he's a bat who will actually kill you. I think it would be better if Jason was actually seen as some sort of savior or idol to like 90% of the goons scattered around Gotham. Doesn't matter who they work for, they all know Jason, former crime-lord that took over majority of Gotham's underground in one night.

---

Jason, years after the events of UTRH, now fighting crime alongside the batfam, except every goon he runs into immediately recognizes him, stops fighting, and starts begging.

the first time it happens, Jason assumes they're begging for their lives only to hear them begging for him to return to the crime lord business so they can work for him and not Gotham's current money-stingy, abusive rogues (Black Mask lol)

---

Jason showing up to patrol as backup for Dick in an overrun warehouse full of Two-Face's henchmen and as Jason's about to interfere, one of the men stops dead in their tracks and stares really hard at Jason until:

Goon: Oh my God, boss, is that you?

Jason, pulling out his guns, about to shoot:

Goon: Mr. Hood, sir???

Jason, halfway about to pull the trigger: Wait a min–Jeremy? Oh wow, it's been ages! How's the wife?

Goon (Jeremy): Oh my God it IS you, holy shit where have you BEEN? Me and the guys miss you, man!

Dick, with a knife at his throat: What is happening right now

Jason: Ahh, well, crime-lording just wasn't fitting in on the daily schedule. Tryna turn over a new leaf and all that

Goon (Jeremy): Aw, that's disappointing. We really liked working for you, right guys?

[Chorus of enthusiastic "YEAHS" from the rest of the henchmen (even the one holding Dick at knifepoint)]

Goon (Jeremy): Well, anyways, I can't beat you up knowing you're my old boss! You gave us the best health benefits! We'll just let you take the evidence and leave.

Jason: Aw, thanks guys :)

---

And that's why 95% percent of Jason's missions in Gotham end in success. Not because he's willing to kill people or because rogues are terrified of him, but because 90% of the rogues' henchmen once worked for Jason and fuckin love him lol.

[ozzgin]

Just read your arranged marriage kidnapped by a most post and the humor in the servants always thinking reader is in peril. The same going for monster hubby (He just thinks they're submissive and breedable)

Like none of them realize they are a moster fucker cause they hide it so well. Like just imagining reader be like "oh be gentle with me I'm a dainty maiden" and then giving him the night of his life is hilarious. Or them having dinner and the servants feel bad for them cause monster hubby is eating human meat but their just thinking about other things he can use his tongue on.

Or maybe someone comes to rescue them from the terrible monster finally. But they don't wanna leave and instead fight the knight off. The knight thinks they've been brainwashed or something. Meanwhile the servants think the knight just wasn't good enough to rescue them.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW! [Part 1] | [More Monsters]

The servants are not blind by any means: they can tell, quite plainly, that their monstrous Lord has a soft spot for you. Not only that, but the beast nearly worships you! They've come up with many theories, the latest one involving witchcraft. Surely you must have some sort of magical trickery under your sleeve in order to subdue their Master. There's no other way around it. All previous humans have been devoured, or have died in a pitiful attempt to escape, terrified to the bone upon gazing at his blasphemous Majesty.

You can't blame them. It's probably better for everyone involved if you omit the fact that your source of witchcraft lies in your...genitals. Well, not just that, of course. Your husband had started to lose hope. His appreciation of humans never came to fruition before your arrival. He was expecting you to cower in fear, not throw yourself at him.

He wondered if you wanted something from him in return, but no one could possibly pretend so flawlessly: the way you clung to him unprompted. The way you hungrily took him in, tears welling in your eyes, refusing to let go until you could feel his load avalanching down your throat. The way you'd trap his hips with your legs, despite being weak and feverish, asking that he doesn't stop yet. If that wasn't proof enough, your whines and moans were loud and clear. To think he could have his own little human, one who isn't repulsed by his monstrous form. He would've been content with mere tolerance, yet someone who begged to be fucked by him? He's been delirious ever since.

He loves everything about you, naturally, but he can't deny the shameless addiction he's now developed towards your body. He'd pound you anywhere and anytime if he could. If he needs to leave for official matters, know that the return will burn in the back of his mind.

"An important date, Sir?" one traveling servant will ask, glancing at all the scribbles in the calendar.

"Indeed", he answers solemnly. It's the times when he can finally fuck you dumb.

While the servants worry about their devilish Master being put under leash, for the other fellow humans the opposite seems to be true. You recall your last "rescuing" attempt distinctly. During one of your evening walks, burly, foreign arms swept you off in an instant. Before you knew it, you were holding onto the armored shoulders of an unknown man, as he made his way out of the traditional garden.

"I'll get you out of here", he promised between heaving breaths.

You stared in confusion. What was he saving you from? A good dicking? No matter how much you explained that you do actually like your newly appointed husband, the hero wouldn't budge.

You ended up just walking back home when the man fell asleep.

"That was quite the long walk", your monster partner remarked, polishing his weapons.

"Oh no, I was kidnapped", you state casually. "Got us some fruits on the way back."

Would it have been better to lie about it? On one hand, you do feel terrible for whoever attempted to retrieve you from the claws of the tyrant. Your husband is very possessive, and you know he'll scorch the Earth until that treacherous pest is gutted and fed to the pigs.

On the other hand...he becomes particularly savage after such incidents. You won't be able to sit properly for the next few weeks, but it's worth it.

Tough luck, you tell yourself, lounging in bed with a satisfied smirk and torn apart hole.

[youryanderedaddy]

can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?

Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗

tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming

Gentle ~

You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?

But he does.

It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.

But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.

Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.

He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.

"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.

"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.

"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.

"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".

He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.

He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.

Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 

After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 

Mean ~

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.

Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.

But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.

You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 

“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”

It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.

If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 

If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 

“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”

He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.

He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.

“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”

[evilminji]

"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy

He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.

Paulie's parents were PISSED.

Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.

And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.

So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.

But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?

Entranced.

In AWE.

Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.

But still, he's about to say "no", when?

Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.

SOLD!

It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?

Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?

Not even as Ghosts, man.

They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.

Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!

So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!

The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!

What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?

Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!

DO BETTER!

And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.

And it's one hell of Fake Hero!

A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!

Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...

The Town website?

Weirdly? Sanitized.

Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....

Wait...

Hey, guuuuys?

Are you finding ANYTHING?

And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.

All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.

But how about thousands?

Hundreds of thousands?

From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.

Not a meme.

Very real.

Not a joke.

The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!

Phantom is REAL!

And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.

Here to help.

A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.

A... a once living star.

And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.

And now? The weather!

@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[in-class-daydreams]

Note: Gojo & the reader are ~40 in this, Sen is 18, and the guy you're seeing (if you don't already know who it is) is aged up accordingly (~30)

Imagine your and ex-husband Gojo's son Sen finding out you're seeing someone.

"You're going on a date?!" Sen asks in disbelief. "With who?"

You smooth out your outfit and check yourself out in the mirror. This look is one of your best, if you do say so yourself.

"Does it matter?" you ask neutrally. Sen is just mature enough to not blatantly freak out at this revelation, but only just. The less he knows, the better.

"Of course, it matters! I need to know who to hunt down if you disappear!" he replies, hands flying up to fist in his hair. "I need to vet this guy!"

Your ex-husband appears in your bedroom doorway. "Who are we vetting?"

Clenching your prospective clothing in your hands, you grumble, "Doesn't anyone knock any more?"

Satoru leans against the door frame like he's someone's booktok boyfriend (he used to be your booktok husband but that's beside the point). He takes in how you've cleaned up and instantly recognizes your date look. Of course, he's only seen it a million times.

"Oh, the kid didn't know you had boyfriend?" he asks.

"Boyfriend?!" Sen cries. Your temple throbs. "Who is he?"

Satoru shrugs. "I dunno, I just know he exists and his one move is sending flowers because he's basic."

"He's not basic and he is not my boyfriend!" you shout, throwing your hands in the air. "We go on dates, yes. We're seeing each other. 'Boyfriend' implies exclusivity, and none of the people I'm seeing are my boyfriend."

Your son and ex-husband stare at you wide-eyed. As Sen gets older, the black roots of his hair have become his last line of defense against looking like a carbon copy of his dad, and having both a young and old(er) Satoru look at you with their stupid big blue eyes is unsettling. Someone hurry up and blink.

"What?" you ask tiredly.

This time it's Satoru that has something irritating to say. "'People?' As in plural?"

"Satoru, don't start."

Sen raises his hand. "I'm with dad on this one. I don't trust anyone with you, not even dad--"

"Thanks, kid."

"--much less strangers."

Part of you understands that your son and ex-husband are the two people in the world that love you the most. Growing up as isolated as you did, your younger self would never have imagined having the both of them in your life. They're just trying to protect you.

The other part of you is on the verge of telling them both to step the fuck off.

You're all saved by the doorbell ringing and before you can even react, both of them are at the door interrogating whoever's on your porch. But you always met up with your dates instead of them picking you up in case of this exact scenario. There was no way he came to the door without your permission.

Sprinting to the door, you find your son, your ex, and a terrified-looking deliveryman holding a bouquet of flowers. You shoo the boys away from him and accept the flowers with thanks and a generous tip for dealing with them.

There's a handwritten note attached. It reads:

You didn't think I'd let you walk out the house without a present, right? Pretty girls need pretty flowers.

You can't hold in a grin. He always found ways to go above and beyond even without an official label.

"Well, at least he's a sorcerer," Sen says. He gestures to the note, "There's a teeny bit of residual CE on there. Not enough for me to recognize, though."

You try not to make your sigh of relief obvious. Sen was still in training and Sukuna said his ability to recognize specific cursed energy needed some work. Getting advice from his dad would help, but your son got his stubborn streak from you.

"Well, good. I don't need you tracking him down." Handing the flowers to Sen, you ask, "Put these in a vase for mama, please?"

Sen, ever the obedient son, runs off to do so immediately. You fondly watch him round the corner into the kitchen, then double back to grab you and place a kiss on your cheek.

"I don't like this, but please be safe, mama! Call me any time, I'll be there," he says, then returns to his task.

Once he's out of sight, you slip your shoes on, holding Satoru by the shoulder to stabilize yourself.

"I'll be back before 11. There's pasta in the fridge and I just washed the sheets in the guest room if you want to stay over," you tell him. Pulling up the back of your shoe, you look up at Satoru to find him stock still looking past you. You can't see his eyes, but you can tell they're fixed on the card you received.

That's when you remember that while your son may not yet be at full potential, veteran sorcerer, strongest in history Gojo Satoru knows damn well who sent you those flowers.

Shit.

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

would love your opinion of the newest episode of DW, if you get the chance.

HAHAHAHA YES I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS

Alright okay so

I only have one complaint, which is that that wasn't a faerie ring. You could still have the shamble, no problem, but it should have been over the top of an actual faerie ring, which should be a mushroom (or, at a push, stone) circle. Not some cotton that would blow clean off the cliff edge in three minutes.

HOWEVER

This is the first time I've seen Doctor Who do a time travel story using, not Doctor Who time travel lore and rules, but Welsh faerie rules. (First time I've seen anything do it, in fact.) In Welsh myth, people who enter faerie rings or get entranced by the music become suspended in time, out of sync with the real world. They think they danced for a night, but when they return it's been 100 years, and they crumble to dust as soon as they eat/drink/step on land/etc.

In this case, this is what I think happened to Ruby. She spent that time in Annwfn, seeing what would happen if the binding on the ring was broken. When she 'dies', she returns to the spot and lasts long enough to give her younger self the warning, then crumbles to dust.

But, a time travelling Ruby is not the woman who follows her throughout the episode. That, in fact, is a gwyll.

The gwyllion were hag faeries, usually of mountain tops (though Pembrokeshire's liminal cliffs are 100% from Welsh mythology - it was said that if you found a faerie ring on one but only put one foot in, you could see the faerie islands in the sea. And that faeries used to visit the human markets in Pembrokeshire and Ceredigion. So while gwyllion are unusual there, it's not an impossible relocation.) They were malicious and sometimes vicious faeries who delighted in making people lose their way, could strike an uncontrollable and ungodly terror into travellers, and who feature in more that one myth as an old woman that someone tried to approach, but they always appeared at the same distance away, impossible to catch up.

CAN YOU SEE THE PARALLELS

And the best part!! Is that this is why she defeats UNIT!!!

Kate tells Ruby that her agents have necklaces of silver and salt to keep out the supernatural, but that's just generic fairytale shit. That doesn't work on gwyllion. Salt drawn in a line would provide a barrier, but the UNIT soldiers aren't trying to trap or block the gwyll; they're trying to capture her. What works, very specifically, is a knife. Iron or steel for preference of course, but it needs to be a knife.

But UNIT has no Welsh employees and the soldiers have guns, not knives. And so they all become entranced.

(This is also what I think the gwyll 'says' to everyone to turn them against Ruby. She doesn't say anything - she sings.)

This is also the first time I've ever encountered any mainstream media doing Welsh faeries and understanding the tone to strike, which is 'unknowable, unstoppable and fucking terrifying'. I think I've only ever read it in Catharine Fisher books, and she's a Welsh author so... yeah, obviously. But I basically vibrated with delight and excitement for the entire episode.

Oh my god, hang on, Roger ap Gwilliam! Okay, I have two theories about him.

My weaker theory and the one I don't like is the kind of boring and obvious one, which is that he is himself not human. A lot of Welsh folklore features the devil, and I get that vibe from his role in the story. But, I'm not keen, because I can't see the link to the gwyll.

But my strongest theory, and the one I have chosen to believe, is that he's a human who made a deal with the Fae for power, and then reneged. There's a Metric Fuckton of stories about humans fucking up Fae gifts in some way, and the punishment is usually something ironic but always results in the loss of the gift. It could be a faerie harp that makes everyone dance, and the Fae tell the giftee not to abuse it, but they cruelly force everyone to dance so long and so hard that the faerie returns, takes back the harp, and then takes the human's ability to ever make music again, so example (by taking fingers or eyes or tongues as well, often.)

So I think Mad Jack strikes a bargain for power - but, then tries to abuse that power (nuclear war). But part of the bargain is that the Fae cannot approach him directly ever again. In the real world, they therefore tempt him into the faerie ring and bind his soul there, problem solved - until the Doctor accidentally lets him out, and gets his own soul stuck. Ruby, therefore, becomes the instrument through which they manage to take that power away once again - and then, her final Fae gift for her service is that they use the temporal anomaly of the faerie ring to send her back, at the end of her life, and give her a second chance. This time, with Mad Jack's soul left bound in Annwfn.

The fun part is, RTD is a writer who understands the power of not explaining everything and leaving some things up to the viewer's imagination, so none of this is ever going to be explained lol. But yeah, that is a gwyll. The moment she appeared, I said out loud "Oh holy fuck, gwyllion." That was a gwyll.

As a final observation, I loved seeing Siân Phillips, and I choose to believe they filmed those scenes in a pub because they could only get Siân if they agreed to just come to her local. The woman is a queen.

[monster-disaster]

I would love if you could write something about a dragon having a girl for a mate and praising/ pleasing her with his tongue with in tune gets him off as well

Request 2: Could I request a dragon story? The reader gets forced by her village as an offering to a dragon to keep him at bay. He takes her as an offering and instead of torturing her as she thought he claims her as his life long mate and wishes to please her and praise her? Mainly by eating her out constantly

dragon!Diman x human!Reader Good to know: size difference, smut, dead animals

You should have seen this coming.

You noticed the glances, the whispers behind your back, and the cold silence that followed you among the villagers. The signs were all there. And most importantly, you rejected one of the elders' sons when he asked for your hand in marriage. That sealed your fate.

Even now, bound and frightened, you don't regret it, though. Not one bit.

Being offered to a dragon, whether as a toy or a snack, you can't be sure, still feels like a brighter future than living under that man's thumb for the rest of your life. The thought of enduring him as a husband, dirty and loud, is more terrifying than anything else you might face now. Cooking for him, bearing his children... No. You'd rather face a thousand monsters than live that kind of life.

"Are you still sure of your decision?" He asks, pulling you from your thoughts. His piggy eyes are fixated on you. The pale color of his irises reflects the silvery light of the moon in the dark sky.

"Yes," you reply, your voice almost drowned out by the noise of the villagers gathered at the foot of the hill. You have to force your expression to remain indifferent, hiding your disgust as you look at him. His double chin obscures the line of his jaw. His round face is covered with stubble and small gashes from his clumsy attempts to shave.

"You'll regret it," he huffs. His grip is bruisingly tight around your arm as he uses you to haul himself up the hill. With every step, you sink back a few inches under his weight.

No, you think, but don't say it out loud. I won't.

No matter what happens when the dragon arrives, it's still better than the image in your head of the man panting and moving above you in bed. Even the thought of it makes your stomach turn with disgust and bile. His stubby fingers would fumble over you, grasping all the wrong places, and you’re not even sure if he could manage to put it in with his large stomach in the way. But, of course, his looks are the least of your concerns. If he had a lovable personality, it might have been bearable. But he’s rotten to the core. He could be more like the son of one of the hunters; a big guy too, with a mess of blonde locks on the top of his head and bright blue eyes that always shine with humor and happiness. His chubbiness only makes him look several years younger, adding to his boyish charm. But you aren't that lucky. He’s in love with your neighbor.

And this, all of this, leaves you for the dragon.

When you reach the top of the hill, your legs are sore, and lungs tight from panting. The man behind you shoves you to the ground. The impact hurts, but it's still better than the feel of his sweaty palm on your bare skin.

"Don't even try to run," he warns. The words leave his lips in heavy puffs. "If you do, we have hunters ready to shoot you."

You don't respond, turning your head away from him and only looking back when he finally turns to leave you there. Oh, how you wish he’d trip and roll all the way down into the crowd of villagers below. He’d knock them down like a huge ball. A sweaty, hairy ball. You are sure he would sound like the pigs too, crying and wailing.

Adjusting yourself on your knees, you straighten your back and scan the view in front of you. You don’t attempt to escape. You have no doubt the hunters would stop you if you tried anything. And where would you even go? Your home is the village, with all your possessions left behind in your small hut. And with your hands tied behind your back, you wouldn’t survive the night in the woods. The villagers would hunt you down like an animal. You would become the pig, dying in the dirt. The thought makes your heart ache with betrayal. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You once believed the village and its people were your home, your safe haven. Now, you are nothing more to them than something they can sacrifice.

With a heavy sigh, you gaze over the woods stretching out before you; a tangle of shadows with sharp edges and twisted shapes. Behind them, the tall, looming mountains' jagged silhouettes reach skyward as if trying to pierce the darkness. The familiar view that once gave you a sense of safety now leaves you with a cold, gnawing unease in your stomach as you wait. The villagers, whom you know all too well, are silent now, waiting just like you.

And none of you have to wait for long.

The sight of the dragon in the dark sky takes your breath away. The moon’s silvery light catches its enormous body, revealing the scales in sharp detail. You see its muscles shifting and moving beneath the hard skin. Each powerful stroke of its wide wings sends ripples through the night air. You hear every rhythmic beat growing louder as it gets closer and closer. Its large head, long and sharp, is supported by a thick neck that connects to broad shoulders. Along its spine, sharp ridges jut out prominently, extending all the way to the tip of its swinging tail. It cuts into the darkness with a fluid grace.

Your chest heaves as you try to get air into your burning lungs, but it seems that even the sight of him alone is enough to leave you breathless. His formidable presence commands awe, respect, and fear. Each powerful movement echoes his sheer strength. When he lands not far from you, the ground shakes and trembles beneath his massive weight. The vibrations crawl up through your bones.

"You are my payment," he says. His voice is deep and rumbling.

The word choice makes you flinch, and though it’s not a question, you nod in response anyway. "Yes."

Living so close to a dragon is always a risk, but as far as you know, most places find ways to protect themselves from the wrath of these huge creatures. The villages offer them gold, food, or humans.

For a long, long second, the dragon looks over you with his almond-shaped eyes. The weight of his gaze is heavy on you as well as his next words. "You will do."

For what, you want to ask but decide to stay quiet instead.

"Will you try something silly if I cut your bounds?" He asks with amusement.

You shake your head. "No." What could you do against him? Run? Fight?

"Good," he hums, reaching behind you to slice through the ropes around your wrists with a quick flick of his claw. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden closeness, and you dare not move, terrified of the damage he could inflict if you were to make a wrong move.

"Do you want to say your goodbye?" He asks, watching you rubbing your wrist where the robes cut into your skin.

You frown. "No." The word escapes your lips as a harsh spat.

He almost laughs. You can feel the deep rumble under your feet. "Good."

A loud, high-pitched squeal escapes your lips as he grabs you with a swift motion. His large hand envelops your entire body, fingers curling around you with ease. He lifts you off the ground effortlessly as his wings start to beat, raising you both into the air. You want to grab onto his fingers automatically, but his hold around you is so tight that you can't move.

"Wait, wait," you gasp hurriedly, and to your surprise, he stops in mid-air.

"For what?" The dragon asks. His golden eyes with black slits in the middle survey you waitingly, but when you open and close your lips several times without saying anything, he turns his attention away from you to continue his journey back to his home.

You want to take one last look at your village, the place that was your home until tonight, but your position in his hand makes it impossible. All you can see is the underside of his thick neck and head, along with the towering mountains in the distance. The late-night wind is cold on your face, yet his large palm around your body keeps you warm and secure in the air. Despite his size, he flies effortlessly, and soon, instead of the familiar hill and clearing, you find the dark wood underneath you.

His lair is nestled in a cove within one of the largest mountains. The air here is colder, and the wind is stronger, too, as he sets you down well away from the rocky edge, and you lose the warmth of his hold around you. After being carried, you feel unsure on your own feet as you look back to see the dark view of the landscape bathed in the moonlight. You can see your village in the distance, small and insignificant.

"Come," he breaks the silence. "It's warmer inside."

Going into a dark cave with a dragon several your size doesn't seem the brightest idea, but looking down the steep mountain beneath, you don't really have any other option.

"Wait," he says, making you stop immediately. "You need some light," he says as if reminding himself. "You humans barely see anything."

Without waiting for your response, he takes a deep breath, and before you can react, the dark hole is suddenly illuminated by the intense flames bursting from his massive jaws. The fire roars to life, casting flickering shadows across the cave's walls. Thick smoke surges into the cold night air, smothering you with its warm, acrid smell that stings your eyes and clings to your skin. When he finally closes his mouth, the flames recede, leaving the cave bathed in the dim, flickering light of burning torches mounted on the rugged walls. With the newfound illumination, you realize the cavern is even bigger than you first thought. Of course, a massive creature like the dragon standing before you requires as much space as he can get to move around freely.

"Come," he says, not even looking at you to check if you follow him.

Both of you know you don't really have any other option.

The dragon's lair is a maze that winds deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain. Steep slopes and jagged inclines alternate with vast, rocky halls that are filled with rusty weapons, tarnished armor, and forgotten trinkets. The air is thick with the scent of the stone walls and smoke. Each breath you take feels heavy and warm. As you follow the dragon, the torches he lits along the way cast flickering shadows on the walls. By the time he finally halts, you're out of breath, coughing from the smoky air.

"Where are we?" You ask him when you find your voice. It's hoarse and tight.

"Does it matter?" He asks. "You can't leave anyway."

You don't know where you get the courage to scowl at him. "Rude."

The dragon scoffs, amused. "We are in the heart of the mountain," he says.

The place resembles a grand hall with towering walls and thick, imposing columns that stretch up into the shadows above. The ground is littered with various objects, shiny ones, and old ones. Piles of gold gleam under the dim light, scattered carelessly among the mess. Books are strewn about haphazardly, their pages yellowed and edges worn, as if they’ve been forgotten in the chaos. At the center of the hall is a massive nest, sprawling and chaotic, made from a jumble of materials and what-not.

The dragon gives you a moment to take in your surroundings, but the silence only heightens your anxiety. Is this really it? Is this where you’ll meet your end? You can't help but imagine your clothes and bones tossed carelessly into the pile of treasure where the dragon sleeps. The thought that nobody will ever find you, that no one will even search, gnaws at you. You’ll be forgotten, just another insignificant meal for the beast.

"Are you going to faint?" The dragon's voice suddenly rumbles through the cavern, making you jump. The sound echoes off the stone walls and ripples down your spine.

"No," you manage to gulp out. "Why?"

"You look like someone who is ready to faint," he says. His tone is so casual that it’s almost infuriating. You are surprised you can feel anything else besides fear.

"Do you see a lot of humans faint before you?"

His grin is slow, almost mechanical, revealing sharp teeth that glint under the dim light. "You could say that."

"So," you begin, licking your lips nervously, "what do you want to do with me?"

His grin widens, and your heart races. "Let's sleep for now, hm?"

Your eyes widen in surprise. Sleep? That wasn’t the answer you expected.

"What?"

The dragon rolls his large, golden eyes, clearly bored with your reaction. With a graceful, feline-like motion, he climbs into his nest, settling down with a heavy thud that makes the ground shake beneath your feet. His massive body curls in on itself, his tail wrapping around him as his head rests on a pile of treasure. Or trash. You can't decide.

That’s it? You think, bewildered. He just wants to sleep?

When you remain frozen in place, your legs trembling beneath you, the dragon lets out a scoff. In one swift motion, he reaches out, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you off the ground. Your startled squeal echoes through the hall, but he ignores it. He just places you close to his head with a gentle but firm grunt.

"Sleep." His warm breath washes over you, providing a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding walls of the mountain.

You’re too stunned to resist, and the strange warmth of his breath is oddly comforting in the darkness.

_

As you soon find out, the dragon has entirely different plans for you than your village, which was so eager to throw you into the beast's arms. Or mouth.

Two days later, you finally gather the courage to ask. "When do you plan to... kill me?"

The dragon's response is not what you expect. He laughs, a loud, rumbling sound that echoes through the cavern and lingers long enough to make your skin burn with embarrassment.

"Eat you?" He asks, still chuckling. "Why would I do that, little morsel? You're so small... not even enough for a quick snack."

"Well..." you clear your throat, searching for words. "Isn't that what dragons do?"

He hums thoughtfully. "I won't lie," he admits. "The taste of human flesh is not... unfamiliar to me, but no, I don't plan to eat you." His laughter bubbles up again, and you scowl at his obvious amusement.

"Then why are you keeping me?" You press. Confusion and frustration mix in your voice.

He pauses for a moment, considering. "To entertain me."

"Entertain you?" You repeat, incredulous.

"Yes."

"What?" You scoff, disbelief creeping into your tone.

The dragon huffs as he leans closer to you. His massive head is now just inches away. Each exhale ruffles your hair, the warm breath unsettling yet somehow familiar after two days of spending time with him.

"Do you think you're the first human who has been given to me?" He asks, not waiting for your reply. "You’ll stay here with me until I tire of you."

"And after that?" You whisper, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

"I will let you go," he says. He almost sounds bored. "Just as I let the others go when they could no longer amuse me."

"You let them go? Alive?" You ask, hardly daring to believe it. You've never met anyone who was captured by a dragon and got out without a fight.

"Yes," he replies, rolling his eyes at your disbelief.

When you don’t respond, he turns away from you. His tail nearly knocks you off your feet as he heads toward one of the corridors.

"Where are you going?" You call after him, watching his massive form disappear into the shadows.

"I’ll get you some food," he says, laughing again. "Stay there."

"I don't even know your name!" You shout after him. You can hear your voice echo in the distance.

"Diman, little morsel."

Diman.

You're not sure how long he's been away. In the deepest part of the mountain, you can't see the sky, and not knowing whether it's day or night is starting to drive you mad. The dragon is rude and blunt, but you're beginning to think he won't be your biggest problem if you have to stay here with him.

When Diman returns, you feel a pang of disappointment as you see he has come back empty-handed. Your stomach growls with hunger, but before you can voice your frustration, he stops in front of you. With a deep breath, his large mouth opens, and two rabbits tumble onto the ground.

They're covered in his saliva, and they are unmistakably dead.

"You know what to do with them, right?"

"Yeah," you reply, trying to suppress the grimace threatening to spread across your face. "Thanks."

You grab the rabbits by their hind legs, searching the cavern for anything that might help you prepare them.

"You can find knives..." he muses for a moment. "Anywhere, I guess."

You glance at him, surprised by his nonchalant response. He smirks. His eyes gleam with a predatory glint, and the slits of his pupils widen slightly as he takes in your reaction. "You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted to," he adds with obvious amusement.

Without saying a word, you sigh and turn your attention back to the task at hand. You have dragon-saliva-soaked rabbits to prepare.

_

"Can I clean myself somewhere?" You ask.

After several days in the dragon's lair, you've yet to see the outside world, something you'll need to address with him eventually, but you have more important things in your mind. You've grown increasingly uncomfortable in your own skin. Your clothes reek of smoke and sweat.

Diman surprises you by standing up in his nest. "Good. I was starting to think you preferred being... like this."

You frown at him, feeling a mix of frustration and weariness. If this continues, your irritation with the dragon might become more than just a fleeting emotion. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you liked being stinky," he replies with a shrug. His muscular body, covered in thick, scaly skin, moves fluidly as he stretches.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" You splutter, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.

"I didn't want to be rude," he says with an air of nonchalance.

You can’t help but scoff at his response, unable to hide your frustration.

"Come on, then."

The dragon leads you through the corridors. His massive strides force you to almost run just to keep up with him, and you have to watch out for his tail, too. It swings left and right in front of you with every step he takes.

For a long while, you wonder if he’s taking you out into the woods to find a river. But when he finally stops, and you step out behind him, you gasp in awe.

Before you is a new cave, even larger than the main hall at the heart of the mountain. Sunlight streams through natural openings in the walls, casting a warm glow on the time-carved columns that support the rough ceiling. The light dances across the surface of several pools of varying sizes scattered throughout the space. The water in them is crystal clear, reflecting the rugged walls with shimmering ripples. The air is thick with warmth and steam, which rises gently from the springs.

"Oh," you gasp, taking in the unexpected sight. "I didn’t know about this."

"Of course, you didn’t," Diman replies, his tone matter-of-fact. You give him a look, but he is not the type to shy away. "Do you want to bathe or not?"

"Yes," you reply, "I do. Do you have a change of clothes for me?"

"I’m sure I’ll find something," he says, and with that, he leaves you alone in the cave.

"Like a maid," he adds under his breath.

With his departure, you waste no time stripping off your clothes and stepping into one of the pools. The water laps gently against your bare skin, and you can feel your muscles and joints relaxing as the warmth envelops you. Leaning against the edge, you face the openings in the wall, allowing the sunlight and fresh air to wash over you.

When your village cast you out, you never imagined you'd end up here. You can’t help but think about how the others must assume you are long dead by now. You had thought so too, that your fate would be sealed and your life cut short. Yet here you are, unexpectedly alive and soaking in comfort. The irony of your situation is not lost on you.

You’re almost asleep when Diman returns, his heavy footsteps echoing softly in the cave. Something soft lands on the ground beside you silently. Opening your eyes, you see what looks like a nightgown spread out on the floor.

"And I brought you towels," he adds, his voice low and gruff.

You sit up, blinking in curiosity. "Why do you have towels?"

He shrugs, the movement causing the thick plates of his muscles to shift. "I have many things I have no idea how I got."

"Yeah. I saw."

Diman catches the subtle change in your tone and tilts his head. "Do you have a problem with it, little morsel?"

"It's... messy," you reply cautiously, watching his reaction. While Diman can be blunt and intimidating, he hasn’t harmed you yet, and you’re careful not to overstep.

"And it should bother me because...?"

"I didn’t say it should bother you," you tell him softly, trying to choose your words carefully. "But it’s not really... homey."

"It’s a cave," he retorts as if that explains everything.

"But it’s still your home," you reason.

Diman considers this, his gaze thoughtful. "Okay then," he agrees with a slow nod. "You’ll be here for a while, you might as well clean up if you want to."

Great, you think sarcastically. Just what you wanted, a never-ending cleaning project.

"Now," you say after a while, breaking the silence with a bit of hesitation, "can you leave?"

Diman frowns. "What?"

"I’m naked!" You exclaim, pointing out the obvious. With nothing else to distract you, you’re acutely aware of the fact that you’re completely bare in front of him, even though the pool and the water offer some privacy.

"So?" His tone is indifferent.

"Out!" You insist, your voice rising a bit in embarrassment.

For a long moment, Diman just stares at you, half-serious, half-amused. When you add a soft, "Please," his expression softens slightly.

He sighs but begins to move anyway. His large frame shifts with a resigned grace. "It is my lair, you know? You can’t just order me around."

It seems you can, but you wisely keep that thought to yourself.

Later, you find yourself nestled in Diman’s nest, a place that was initially intimidating but has become oddly comforting. You didn’t dare say anything about sleeping here at first, but now you don’t mind it. His warmth is a blessing against the cold mountain nights. A cocoon of heat that keeps the chill at bay.

"Read me something," Diman’s voice rumbles, breaking the silence.

"Read you something?" You ask, turning your head to look at him. His massive head rests on a pile of unidentifiable objects, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.

"Yes," he replies with a hint of impatience in his tone. "There are tons of books all over. Find something."

"Okay," you agree. You are not really sleepy either and glad for something to occupy your mind.

You rise from the nest, your nightgown swishing around your legs as you begin to sift through the scattered piles of belongings.

Diman watches you silently. There’s a quiet contentment in the way he observes you without saying anything. His tail curls slightly around himself some more. The sight of you in the soft, flowing nightgown fills him with a strange sense of peace. It’s almost enough to lull him to sleep, but he’s not quite ready for that yet.

As you pick through the mess, carefully avoiding knocking over anything, you come across a book that catches your eye. The cover is worn, and the title is barely readable, but it feels right in your hands. You bring it back to the nest and settle in beside Diman. Opening the book, you begin to read aloud, and soon, your voice fills the cavern. The dragon listens, his eyes half-lidded, and his breathing is slow and steady.

He spent the last decade mostly asleep, lost in the deep slumber of his kind. But now, with you here, being awake doesn’t feel like a burden anymore.

_

You and the dragon fall into a routine surprisingly quickly. The strange part isn't how easily you've adjusted to your new life, but how little you miss your old one. Yes, you miss your cottage, its cozy walls, and familiar smells, but you don’t miss the villagers. Why would you? They threw you away like garbage. With a few exceptions, they can rot where they are. You were right, though, choosing to be with a dragon is still a better option than staying with that fool of a man.

"What are you doing?" The sudden voice of Diman makes you jump. You almost drop the bundle of clothes in your hands. His large frame looms in the entrance. Shadows play and stretch on his scales in the dim light.

"Cleaning," you reply, steadying yourself after a second. You notice the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. "You're home early."

"There was a storm last night," he explains. His answer rumbles through the walls like a distant thunder. "It means plenty of fish."

Without further ado, he opens his massive jaws and drops a writhing pile of fish onto the stone floor. They flop and gasp, their silver scales glinting as a thin layer of water and dragon saliva spreads beneath them.

"Oh, god," you groan, stepping back in disgust. "They’re still alive!"

Diman tilts his head, watching you with a curious glint in his eyes. "You don't like it?"

"I do," you say, though your gaze remains fixed on the pile of struggling fish. "I just... I hate killing them."

"What?" He asks, genuinely puzzled.

"They're so wiggly!" You groan again, shuddering at the thought of touching their slimy bodies.

The dragon laughs. The deep, resonant sound echoes off the rugged walls. "I see. I’ll take care of them while you finish cleaning then."

You blink in surprise at his offer, but quickly nod anyway. You won't argue about this. "Thank you."

While he effortlessly handles the fish with his massive talons, you return to organizing the books you’ve been gathering from around the lair. You’ve created a neat pile in a corner. Diman could have a full library, though you’re not sure if dragons can even read.

"You’ve been busy today," he comments, his eyes flickering over to you as he lights a fire for cooking. Doing it in the heart of a mountain might not be the best idea, but for now, it’s your only option.

"Yeah," you sigh, placing your hands on your hips as you survey the hall. The place is still a chaos, but it’s better than before. "What do you do with so much gold?" You ask, nodding towards another glittering pile that catches the warm glow of the torches.

Diman shrugs. "They’re pretty."

"And the books? Or the clothes?" You continue, settling down next to him by the fire. Your stomach growls at the sight of the fish, now neatly arranged and ready to cook. "I understand the weapons and shields, but everything else seems so random."

He shrugs again. "I take what I find interesting or pretty. I mean, you’re here too, no?"

His words catch you off guard, a rush of warmth rising to your cheeks. "Well, yeah," you mumble, flustered.

Diman grins, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "You look better when you’re not trying to faint from fear."

You scoff. The moment between you two passes as quickly as it came. "Shut up."

He chuckles but falls silent, allowing a peaceful quiet to settle over you both as you begin cooking dinner. The fish sizzles over the fire, filling the cavern with a mouth-watering aroma.

"You seem to like it," Diman teases, watching you tear into the white flesh with both hands. Your hunger overwhelms your manners.

"Sorry," you mumble, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "I didn’t get to eat fish often back in the village. The river was far, and when people caught something, they sold it too expensive for me."

Diman’s gaze softens slightly. "Did you have problems there?"

"Not really," you reply between two bites. "I didn’t have much, but it was enough, you know?"

He hums in understanding, lowering his massive head to the ground as you continue eating.

"Do you want some?" You ask, holding out a piece of fish on your plate toward him. "It’s delicious."

The moment the words leave your mouth, time seems to stop. Diman stares at you, shock clear on his face. You have no idea what you’ve just offered him. Offering food among dragons is a gesture of profound significance, far beyond the simple act as it is for humans. It’s a symbol of trust, of bonding, of something deeper that you can’t even begin to comprehend.

For a long moment, Diman hesitates, torn between his instincts and the awareness that you don’t understand the weight of your gesture.

"No," he finally says, though his voice is softer, almost tender. He relaxes back onto the ground, his massive form curling slightly around you. "Eat, little morsel."

You continue eating, unaware of the change between you and the dragon and the silent vow Diman has made to himself. He will make sure you never leave him, even if you don’t fully understand the bond you’re forming yet.

_

“When will you get bored of me?” You ask the dragon after two months of living with him. The two of you sit at the entrance of his cave, basking in the last golden rays of the summer sun as it slowly dips behind the horizon. His emerald scales shimmer under the warm light. He sprawls on the ground, seemingly at ease.

At your question, his muscles tense, and he lifts his massive head to look at you. “Do you want to leave, little human?” He asks. The question rumbles with a barely suppressed growl of disapproval.

In truth, you have no desire to leave him. The thought of him sending you away gnaws at you daily. Where would you even go? Your old life was left behind, abandoned along with your cottage. Now, this cave, with its towering stone walls and the dragon who lives in it, is the only home you know.

A long, silent moment stretches between you as he watches you intently. Slowly, you gather your courage and shake your head. “No,” you admit, your voice steady. “That’s why I’m asking.”

His gaze softens slightly. “You don’t want to leave me?” He asks again as if needing to hear it twice to believe it.

You shake your head once more.

Living with Diman has been surprisingly comfortable. Despite his size and the sharpness of his claws, he’s become a constant presence around you, a source of safety. He’s often infuriating, teasing you just for the fun of it, but there’s warmth in his companionship that you’ve come to cherish. The thought of leaving him, of leaving this mountain, fills you with anxiety.

“Would you let me go if I wanted to leave?” You ask suddenly, the question escaping before you can stop it.

Diman sighs, his eyes drifting over the darkening landscape. “That would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it?” He muses aloud.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. “I guess.”

He meets your gaze with a guilty smile. The corners of his large mouth curve up. “I say yes, as long as you promise not to test it.”

Diman has always been quick to let go of the men and women offered to him over the years. A lot of them stayed only a few days before he grew bored and sent them on their way. But with you, it’s different. He has no intention of letting you go. It’s not just about the entertainment you provide, though, you do make him laugh more than he has in years. No, it’s more than that. You make his cave feel like a home, and every time he leaves to hunt, he finds himself eager to return. When he sleeps, he looks forward to waking up, knowing you’ll be there. You’ve brought something into his life he didn’t know he was missing.

To his surprise, you laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “I won’t test it.”

And with that, the conversation ends. You lean back against his thick arm, closing your eyes with a contented sigh.

That night, the two of you drift off to sleep with anticipation and some lightness in your hearts.

_

"When will you be back?" You ask Diman, standing under the entrance of the cave as the rain pours down in heavy sheets. The dark clouds above rumble and flash with lightning every few minutes, casting brief, eerie illuminations across the landscape. The forest below is still green, but it looks weary and tired as the autumn approaches.

Diman turns to you, a grin spreading across his massive face, revealing his sharp teeth. "Are you worried about me?" He teases, expecting your usual playful retort, but when you don’t respond with your typical energy, his expression softens, and he answers more seriously. "I’ll be fine," he assures you. "This weather is nothing to me."

You nod, but the sigh that escapes you betrays your concern. "Okay."

"I’ll be back soon," he adds, trying to reassure you. "It shouldn’t be more than a week. Maybe two."

You don’t like the uncertainty in his answer, but you nod again anyway. "Okay."

"Take care of yourself while I’m away," he says, his voice gentle, as if trying to ease your worry.

"I will," you reply, though the words feel hollow.

Diman has to leave to hunt and prepare for the approaching winter. With his large appetite, he needs to be mindful of the animal population and cover more land before he accidentally empties the surrounding forest. And while you understand the necessity, you don't like it. You’ve grown used to his presence, his constant warmth. The thought of him being gone, even for a short while, leaves you feeling strangely vulnerable.

But you know it’s something he must do. So, you watch him as he spreads his enormous wings. The muscles in his body flex in preparation for flight, and with a powerful leap, he takes to the sky.

You watch him until his form is swallowed by the stormy clouds.

As you retreat back into the cave, it feels emptier without him. Colder somehow. You wrap yourself in a blanket, trying to shake off the unease settling in your chest. You tell yourself he’ll be back soon, just as he promised, but until then, the cave, and you, feel just a little lonelier.

While Diman is away, you continue to tidy up the cave, but it becomes increasingly difficult as the days drag on. Without his presence, the mountain walls feel heavy and claustrophobic. They close in on you more and more with each passing day. The silence is deafening, and the nights are too cold without the dragon’s warmth beside you. The cave now feels more like a prison, its stone walls offering little comfort against the loneliness that gnaws at you.

As the end of the first week without him approaches, you find yourself spending more and more time at the entrance of the cave, staring out at the still-raging storm and the dark sky and hoping to catch a glimpse of the returning dragon. Nature seems to be shedding its lush greens at an alarming speed. The forest below transforms into shades of orange and brown as autumn takes hold.

One day, you sit at the entrance of the cave, wrapped tightly in a blanket as the storm continues its relentless assault on the world outside. The sky above is dark, and heavy with clouds. The wind howls, and the rain pounds against the rocks, but you barely notice it anymore. Your thoughts are far away, lost in worry and longing for Diman's return.

The rumble of the ground beneath you is subtle at first, a faint vibration that you almost dismiss as part of the storm. But then it intensifies. The mountain itself groans under the pressure of some unseen force. You stand up, alarmed and with a racing heart as the tremors grow stronger. For several seconds, you stand there, frozen in place until the rocks around you begin to shudder. Dust and small pebbles rain down from the ceiling. A deafening roar echoes through the cave, and the ground lurches violently beneath your feet. The entrance, your only connection to the outside world, begins to crumble too. The rocks above shift and crack, and with a thunderous crash, they fall. The cacophony of stone grinding against stone drowns out everything else.

You barely have time to leap out of the way as the massive boulders come crashing down, sealing off the entrance in a cloud of dust and debris. You hurl yourself to the ground, rolling to the side and curling into a tight ball in the midst of the chaos. Your heart pounds as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your muscles are tense as you pull your knees to your chest. One arm wraps protectively around your head, while the other digs into your legs, anchoring you as the world around you crumbles.

When it finally stops, the silence is absolute, broken only by the muffled sound of the storm outside.

Coughing and gasping for breath, you push yourself up with a groan. Darkness surrounds you, thick and impenetrable. The air is heavy with dust, making it hard to breathe. Your hands scrape against the rough stone floor. You reach out, feeling your way through the pitch-black void, but your fingers meet only cold, solid rock and hard edges. Desperately, you search for any sliver of light, any gap that might offer a way out, but there’s nothing. The cave is sealed tight, and you are alone in the stifling blackness. The once-open space is now filled with a thick wall of stone.

You sink back to the ground with a rising panic in your chest while trying to steady your breathing. Your shoulders feel heavy as you force your mind to think. Diman will come back, you tell yourself. He’ll know something’s wrong. He’ll dig you out. You are safe with no injuries besides a few bruises and cuts here and there, and for now, all you can do is wait, alone in the darkness, hoping that Diman will return sooner rather than later to save you.

Hours pass in suffocating darkness. You sit, knees drawn to your chest, straining to hear anything beyond the silence. Every creak and groan of the mountain around you sends a jolt of hope through your heart, but it’s always nothing. Your dragon is probably far away, having no idea of the situation you are in. Your mind races with worry and fear, but as time drags on with no sign of Diman, a cold, grim resolve begins to take hold of you. You can’t just sit here, waiting. You have to do something.

With a deep breath, you push yourself to your feet. Your hands reach out to the rough, familiar walls of the cave, guiding you as you navigate through the pitch-black corridors. Every torch is blown out, making each step you take slow and careful. It feels like an eternity by the time you reach the grand hall. You can’t see it, but you know the space by heart.

First, you need fire. The torch is hard to find. Your hands are shaking when your fingers finally close around one, but lighting it is even more difficult. You are clumsy, trembling with cold and fear, but after several tries, a spark catches, and a small, flickering flame bursts to life.

The light is weak, barely enough to push back the darkness, but it’s something. It gives you the courage to move forward.

You gather as much supply as you can carry, stuffing them into a small sack before making your way to the baths. The walls here are punctuated by holes that let in some natural light, even though it's not much now with the storm outside. It's better than nothing, though.

You set your torch in a holder on the wall, letting the warm, flickering light mix with the cool, natural glow filtering in. The bath hall is a large, cavernous room with several pools fed by underground springs.

Okay, you think. It's much better. You have light, clean air, food and water. You will be fine until Diman comes back.

You lay out the blankets, creating a small nest for sleep. The air here is warmer, the water giving off a gentle steam that eases the chill in your bones. You take a deep breath, the first one since forever that doesn’t feel suffocating. The fear and loneliness are still there, gnawing at the back of your mind, but it’s easier to push them aside now that you are safe and out of the dark.

Diman will come back. He has to.

As the second week draws to a close, the storm that has raged on for weeks finally begins to ease. For the first time in days, you feel a small sense of relief. Being able to see the sky helps soothe the anxiety that has been eating at you. The knowledge that the world beyond the mountain still exists and turns is a comfort you didn't know you needed so much.

It's early Friday morning when a deep rumble shakes the cave, jolting you awake. Your stomach tightens with fear. The memory of the last collapse flashes through your mind as you brace yourself for the worst but this time, the ground doesn’t give way, and as the rumbling continues, you realize it’s not the mountain. It’s Diman’s voice, echoing through the labyrinth of stone.

A gasp escapes your lips as you scramble from your makeshift bed, your heart pounding with a mixture of relief and anticipation. You hesitate at the entrance of the cave that opens to the baths, unsure whether to move or stay put. You have to keep your tensing and twitching muscles from running. The maze of tunnels and chambers could make it harder for him to find you if you wander too far.

You call his name, your voice trembling as it bounces off the rugged walls, merging with his deep, booming calls.

“Y/N!” His voice is closer now, filled with urgency and worry.

Tears well up and spill down your cheeks as you see his massive form emerge at the end of the corridor. His eyes are wide and frantic as he spots you. Relief washes over you like a wave as you rush toward him, your arms stretching out instinctively.

��I’m here,” you cry out. Your voice breaks with emotion just as his large head presses into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him as best as you can, feeling the cool, rough texture of his scales under your fingers. Your feet lift off the ground for a moment as you cling to him. His deep, rumbling hum vibrates through your body as he tries to calm himself.

“I saw the entrance,” he says, his voice choked with fear and lingering panic. “I thought- I saw your blanket between the rocks- and- ”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, caressing the thick scales beneath his eyes. “I was lucky; it didn’t hurt me.”

“Why were you even there?”

“I was waiting for you,” you reply.

“Little morsel,” he sighs, snuggling even closer. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I promise." His large, gleaming eyes soften as you continue to stroke his scales. “I’m fine now that you’re here,” you whisper. The warmth of his presence chases away the lingering fear and loneliness that had weighed on you for so long.

Diman hums again, a low, soothing sound that vibrates through the air. It wraps you in a cocoon of safety.

“I’ll never leave you like that again,” he promises, his voice firm and unwavering.

You smile, wiping away the last of your tears as you nod. “It's fine by me.”

For a while, both of you bask in each other's embrace while talking quietly about the last two weeks. Diman needs a long time to calm down and believe that you are really okay.

"I will go and take care of the entrance," he says after a while. "And lit some fire."

"Okay," you nod even though you have to force yourself to let him go.

"Stay there until then," he says. "I will come back and get you."

As Diman busies himself, you slip away to take a bath. The warm water washes away the grime and stress of the past weeks, and as you change into clean clothes, a sense of relief settles over you. The knowledge that Diman is back, safe and sound, lifts the heavy burden that had weighed on your heart. Even as you hear the rumble of debris being cleared and feel the tremors beneath your feet, the fear that once accompanied these sensations is replaced by contentment. The mountain, which had felt like a prison in his absence, now feels secure and comforting again.

By the time you finish, Diman has completed his work. The entrance to the cave is clear once again, and as you step into the great hall, the fire’s orange glow flickers warmly on the walls, bringing a sense of normalcy back to your life.

"We need to change a few things around here," Diman says, his mind clearly racing with ideas. "I want you to have an escape route even when I'm not here. You need more light and—"

"It's okay," you interrupt gently, smoothing your palm over his thick arm. The texture of his scales is rough beneath your hand. "We can figure everything out later. Are you hungry?"

He looks at you, surprised. "I just came back from hunting."

You shrug, settling into your usual spot near his nest. The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows on the walls, and while you miss the open view of the outside world, the warmth and light bring a sense of peace. "You worked a lot today."

His smile is gentle, and there’s a new light in his yellow eyes that you’ve never seen before, something soft and tender. "No," he replies after a pause, his voice low and soothing. "I'm not hungry, but let me feed you."

"Oh," you say, surprised by his offer. "Okay," you add, smiling at him as he moves to prepare your meal.

Despite the obvious difference in size between him and the portion you eat, he works with surprising speed and care, and soon, the cave is filled with the mouthwatering aroma of vegetables and fish. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you how long it’s been since you’ve had a proper meal.

"Where did you get fish?" You ask, watching him with curiosity. You had finished all the meat in the last two weeks before it could spoil.

"On my way back," he replies with a nonchalant shrug. "Now, eat."

You take the plate he offers, the food warm and inviting. As you savor each bite, you glance up at Diman. His eyes are fixed on you, watching with a kind of quiet contentment that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him look at you like this before, and it fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire.

"Thank you," you say softly, and Diman responds with a deep, comforting hum that reverberates through the cave. The sound is rich and soothing, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "Are you sure you don't want some?" You ask, holding up a piece of fish between your fingers. You could use a fork, but Diman doesn’t care about etiquette, and you quickly grew tired of searching for usable cutlery in the vastness of his home.

As the words leave your lips, the air between you shifts. Something unspoken and electric crackles in the silence as your eyes meet, holding each other's gaze a moment longer than usual.

"Do you know what you're offering me, little morsel?" Diman's voice deepens, resonating with a gravity that makes your heart skip a beat. The black slits of his pupils widen, nearly overtaking the molten gold of his eyes.

You hesitate. The answer is on the tip of your tongue. "No?" You say instead.

"Sharing food in my culture is an offer to share everything," he explains, his gaze never wavering. "It’s a bond between family and mates."

"Oh," you manage. Your throat tightens at the realization. "So..." you croak, still holding up your hand with the small offering. "Do you want some?"

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his lips, revealing the sharp edges of his teeth as he grins down at you. There’s a predatory glint in his eyes as he leans in, his massive head drawing closer. His tongue flicks out, surprisingly gentle, as he licks up the morsel from your hand. It’s likely not even enough for him to taste, but the significance isn’t lost on either of you. You’ve offered something sacred, something profound, and he’s accepted it with a puffed-out chest and a heart swelling with warmth.

As you watch him, a thought strikes you. "Wait," you say, your voice breaking the quiet. "But you..."

Diman watches you with amusement, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Yes, little mate?"

"You prepared my food so many times."

"I have," he agrees, his voice steady and sure.

"Well," you clear your throat, feeling a little foolish but pressing on. Your heart races in your chest at the silent change between you and the dragon. "Do you want some more?"

Diman chuckles. "No," he replies with affection. "Eat now." But even as he speaks, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he stays close, his head rubbing gently against your side and arms, careful not to knock you over with his size and strength.

His gaze never leaves yours as you take a sip of water, trying to calm yourself after your last bite. Your stomach twists into a tight but excited knot. Your hands tremble as you reach out, letting your fingers trace the space between his nostrils, feeling the rough, resilient scales that shield him from nearly everything.

Diman hums softly, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates through the air and ripples down your spine. “Lay down, Y/N,” he murmurs, nudging you gently with his head. “I hunger for something else.”

A quiet “oh” escapes your lips. It's more of a breath than a word, but you obey without trying to say anything else. Your movements are slow and deliberate as you lower yourself to the ground. Your eyes are still locked in his intense gaze. The cold, uneven ground presses against your skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown. It barely offers any protection from the roughness and the cold beneath you. Goosebumps wake on your skin, but you are sure it has more to do with the dragon than anything else. You’re very aware of how exposed you are, both physically and emotionally, as you settle down before him. Diman watches you with a look that’s a mix of hunger and intent. His eyes glow with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His attention is heavy and burning. His massive form shifts closer. His breath is warm against your skin. There’s a powerful, magnetic pull between you two that sparkles under the silence that settled over the hall in the last few minutes. It's primal and impatient. His gaze sweeps over you, taking in every detail and every breath you take, and for a long moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The cave, the firelight, the very air around you, all of them fade into the background. Your nipples harden into tight peaks under the white fabric you wear. Your arms start to move to hide yourself, but you decide against it at the last moment. Instead, you rest your hands on your stomach and open your legs without Diman having to tell you what to do. The mix of the cold mountain air and his warm breath fans over your center, making your pussy clench around nothing. The sudden feeling takes your breath away for several seconds. The dragon didn't even touch you yet, but you are already damp and eager. The muscles of your thighs are hard, and your insides tremble with anticipation. Your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, pushing the soft globes of your breasts against the nightgown. The fabric clings to your skin as Diman's golden eyes trace over your form. His gaze is intense as he takes in the sight of you laid out before him. He hasn’t touched you yet, but the promise of what’s to come hangs thick in the air, a palpable tension that has your heart racing. You can feel his warmth and his presence, so close yet not close enough, and it drives your desire even higher.

"Good, mate," Diman rumbles with satisfaction. "Open up for me even more."

With a shaky breath, you obey, forcing your legs further apart. You can feel the stretch of your tendons, the pull of your muscles as you do exactly as he commands. The hem of your nightgown slips down, gathering around the base of your thighs, leaving you bare and utterly vulnerable before him. Your lips are dry as you wait for his reaction, and your cheeks are hot with need and a hint of embarrassment.

His eyes rove over your exposed form once again. His warm breath fans over your center, over your whole body, making you quiver with anticipation.

"Such a beautiful sight," the dragon murmurs. His voice is a low growl that makes your pussy clench with need. He leans in closer, his large head hovering just above your thighs. The approval in his gaze makes you feel both cherished and possessed.

Your heart races, each beat echoing in your ears as you lay there, completely exposed. The rough texture of the ground beneath you only serves to remind you of the dragon's power above. His large form makes the cave look small as you look up at him with anticipation. Your whole body is tense as you wait for him to do something.

And when he does, you forget how to breathe.

Diman's tongue flicks out. The tip barely brushes against your inner thighs, and yet, it sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your back arches instinctively, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Maybe if your mind would be clearer, you would be embarrassed because of your reaction, but the haze is already too thick in your head to care. He moves slowly and exploratory. His tongue traces patterns across your skin but never goes further up than the base of your thighs. Each touch and caress is something new you both try to savor.

"You're perfect, little mate," Diman whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

His presence is overwhelming, his scales cool and firm against your skin, while the heat of his breath washes over you in waves when finally, his enormous head settles down between your legs. You feel the sheer magnitude of his closeness in every fiber of your body.

His tongue, wide and powerful, flicks out to tease you. The rough texture sends jolts of pleasure through your core. He starts slowly, almost lazily, trailing his tongue along your inner thighs, leaving a tingling, wet path of warmth in its wake. The contrast between his cool scales and the heat of your arousal is intoxicating.

When you waited for him at the top of the hill, you never imagined it would lead to this, that you would end up breathless and aroused beneath the beast. A wry smile tugs at your lips, thinking of the people you once knew. They have no idea how much of a favor they’ve done for you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as his tongue finally makes contact with your pussy and cuts the train of your thoughts. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine. His tongue is wet and rough just enough the make you buck your hips against him while he watches your every reaction with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. His molten gold eyes are filled with a hunger that only stokes the fire within you. The black slits of his pupils are almost orbs as he tries to take you in.

He takes his time, exploring you with slow movements that leave you on the edge of madness. The rough texture of his tongue adds a delicious friction that makes you moan with need. Your hips lift again, seeking more of his touch, but Diman holds you in place with a gentle but unyielding pressure, savoring the control he has over your body.

“Diman,” you breathe, his name escaping your lips in a desperate plea. The tension inside you coils tighter with each teasing stroke. Your body aches for release.

“Patience, little mate,” he rumbles, his deep voice vibrating through you like a physical caress. Your back arches at the feeling. The sound alone sends a pulse of arousal straight to your core, making you clench around nothing. His words only heighten the anticipation building inside of you.

He dips lower, circling your entrance with agonizing slowness, making you gasp and writhe beneath him. The tip of his tongue traces your folds, gathering your wetness and savoring your taste with a low, approving hum that resonates through you. He flicks your clit over and over again until your thighs tighten around his large jaw and nose. He teases you restlessly, slipping down across your folds and going straight to your entrance. He prods you there for an endless moment, making you whine and fidget with impatience bubbling in your chest.

The dragon laughs at that, and the rumble of his chuckle echoes in your body. The feeling punches a moan out of your lips, and you barely have time to come back to your senses when his tongue slides inside you with a slow, deliberate push. He fills you up in a way that’s both overwhelming and strange. The wet muscle penetrates you, making you cry out breathlessly. Your back arches off the ground almost painfully, and your walls clench around the thickness of his tongue, only making it rub over your sensitive spots even more. He moves in and out of you as he fucks you with a measured, unhurried pace. He lets his tongue soak in your arousal while he listens to the sweet sounds you make. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen with your half-closed eyes and trembling muscles. He can feel every flutter of your pussy around his tongue as he pushes deeper, finding every spot that makes your voice go higher with several octaves.

The pleasure is intense, almost too much to bear. Your body is stretched and filled by the sheer size of his tongue. Each of his movements is precise, calculated to drive you to the brink without ever pushing you over the edge. You can feel every inch of him, every ripple and curve of his tongue as it slides in and out of you. The sensation swirls the world around you once, twice, three times.

“Please,” you whisper. “I need-” The end of your sentence is drowned by the ragged breath that bursts out of your lips as you wheeze and pant.

Diman’s response is a low, satisfied growl that reverberates through your entire body. He increases the pace slightly, his tongue fucking you with a slow, steady rhythm that has you gasping for air. The pressure builds inside you, a hot, insistent ache that demands release, and your body tightens with each thrust. You feel like a drawn bow.

And...

and...

He pulls back just enough to flick his tongue over your clit. His touch is electric, sending shockwaves through your entire body, yet you cry out in frustration. Tears gather in your eyes, and your hips buck up against him as you chase the high that’s just got out of reach. Diman seems to relish in your desperation, his tongue alternating between fucking you deep and teasing your clit with a maddening, feather-light touch.

The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you, every muscle in your body straining as you teeter on the edge of release. The dragon's tongue works you with a relentless, skillful precision, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until you’re a quivering, breathless mess beneath him.

“Let go,” he murmurs. His voice is like a deep, soothing rumble that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “I want to feel you come for me, little mate.”

His words are the final push you need as his tongue finds its way inside you with a quick, bullying motion. Your body surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure that crashes over you like a tidal wave. The orgasm tears through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. Your muscles contract and release in a rhythm that matches the waves of ecstasy flooding your veins. You, your body, and your orgasm are in sync with the rapid thrust of his tongue that pounds in and out of you as you fall over the edge.

Diman doesn’t stop. His tongue continues to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re left trembling and spent beneath him. Your body is a live wire of sensation, every touch sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you. Your climax and his saliva are a mess of mix between your thighs, soaking the floor underneath.

When he pulls back, his eyes glow with a satisfied light as he watches you catch your breath. His chest expands with pride at the sight of you. Your gown clings to your skin, highlighting the hard peaks of your nipples. A thin layer of sweat glistens on your skin under the orange glow of the fire. You are beautiful, and something in him, something primal and demanding, awakens again, but instead of burying himself between your soft thighs again, he just licks his lips to savor your taste while you slowly get back to your senses.

"Diman?" You breathe out his name, searching for him even though your eyes are still closed.

"I'm here, my love," he hums. "I won't go anywhere."

"What about you?" You ask him, and the dragon can't help but chuckle. His own arousal is still hard and leaking between his hind legs, but there is no way you are up to explore the physical possibilities between the two of you.

"I can wait," he says, hauling you up in his hand gently to settle down in his nest with you close to his massive head. "Sleep, my mate."

As the new mate of the dragon living among the clouds and resting in the mountains, your old life becomes a quickly fading memory. And when your love starts to rebuild his cave just to make it more of a home for you, you never look back. Not once.