#precious to me to be handled by a company like that

[defiledtomb]

I am sorry for my radio silence :< I am attempting to gather my thoughts on some topics I want to address, while irl has had me in a merciless grip lately. I will be back as soon as everything stops spinning so god damn fast 😵‍💫

[obstinatecondolement]

Heroically gave my manager (who, if you'll remember, keeps making me so stressed that I cry) my break-glass-in-case-of-emergency sanitary pad that I keep in my bag, because I am such a nice person.

[sovonight]

editing down my tob gameplay but only keeping the parts where i ramble about xan and radri and how they're each other's source of light and wonder but each only thinks that it goes one way

[jello-chennie]

✧ tough guy iwaizumi hajime who ends up falling for his best friend’s cute little sister

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (nsfw at the end ⚠︎)

✧ word count 857

all three of you grow up together, with you being two years younger than tooru. oikawa is always doting on you, treating you like a doll. despite the very little age gap, no matter how old you get, he’s always referring to you as his baby sister. oikawa spoils you rotten. one look from those big brown eyes you both share, but look a lot cuter on you for some reason, and oikawa can’t help but to give you whatever you ask for.

in the beginning, iwaizumi is almost like your other, more responsible big brother when things go wrong. you’re always trying to tag along with your older brother and his friend, which is a recipe for disaster sometimes.

when you inevitably take a spill, and bump your knees, tooru is rolling on the ground, shouting out against the heavens for forsaking you. how could the higher powers let you just fall to the ground like that?? but iwaizumi is is silently wiping off the pebbles from your knee with his little hands, blowing cool air to help assuage your pain. without a word, he carries you back home.

eventually you learn to stop tagging along so much. you can only handle so much pain and embarrassment. other than those moments, iwaizumi and you never really spend that much time together. for the rest of your childhood, you’re more acquaintances than anything else.

but at some point, after oikawa desperately begs you to join the boys volleyball team as it’s manager (“its the only time we’ll be together in high school, you wouldn’t ruthlessly deny your precious and loving and dashing and charming big brother this chance, would you???”), iwaizumi begins to notice you again. but this time, you’re a lot more grown up than you were before. seems like good looks run in the family.

but he’s not the only one that notices. in the same sense that oikawa seems to have the student body under his spell, it seems you do as well, and without even trying.

you’ve had a sheltered childhood that you mostly spent in doors, so you’re shyer than most people. and your brother enables you with his doting behaviour.

iwaizumi finds himself frequently getting jealous at the basket of love letters and confectionery that you have to empty out of your locker and lug home every night. iwaizumi finds that his hands begin to ache after a while bc he clenches them so hard whenever he sees another person confessing to you. and he waits with baited breath to see their disappointed faces as they walk away—an indication that you turned them down again in the way that you always shyly do; an indication that he might still have a chance, yet.

in an effort to put the moves on you, iwaizumi is constantly performing little acts of service for you. he goes out with you to the fountains to refill the water bottles so that you have some company, and so that you won’t have to carry anything heavy—that should be his job, after all. in the most cliche move ever, when an errant ball goes flying right in your direction, iwaizumi coolly catches it with one hand before it can bounce off of your head, making sure to ask you if you’re okay after. he stays behind to help you sweep the floors after practice, striking up a conversation with you. when oikawa stays behind to practice his spikes, iwaizumi walks alone with you home, making sure to keep you away from the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the road. iwa also makes sure to put your back against the wall of the train while standing in front of you, keeping you safe from any wandering hands.

eventually, he even starts buying your favourite milk drink from the vending machine, and brings it to you while he visits your classroom, the place where you normally eat your lunch. he sits, and eats with you (to which oikawa complains vehemently bc “why would you just sit in a different spot than we normally do without telling me?? you left me all alone!!")

iwaizumi’s actions don’t go unnoticed. you start to fall for it.

when you two eventually start to date, oikawa is whining and complaining that you two are both stealing each other away from him (there��s also relentless teasing on oikawa’s end bc “iwa-chan, isn’t funny that you fell in love with someone that looks just like me?? are you secretly gay and actually just in love with me :3 ??”)

but what’s really the kick in the back for oikawa is the moment he runs up to his precious little sister’s room to check and see what she wants for dinner. but upon opening the door, he finds both his best friend (who, of which, he didn’t even know was over their place at the moment) on top of his “adorable baby sister who can do absolutely no wrong”; the two of them are naked from the waist down, in the throes of passion.

he falls to his knees, asking god to strike him dead, right then and there.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Please update Child Support, it’s hilarious!!!😂

John sighs, slumping on the table. Surrounding him were various bottles of dubious liquids. He found that human alcohol rarely gave him that special kick when he was trying to drink his stress away and would often hop over to a dimension with real fun ones.

He's been under a lot of stress lately.

Danny's potential sutiors were driving him crazy, not to mention the consent fear that he would mess up in a way Clockwork won't take kindly to. His son was slowly finding his footing in this world thanks to the SuperSons. His new school, some posh academy in Gotham, had far stricter policies in regards to bullying, so at least no one had given his boy any grief.

John highly doubted that meant he wasn't facing any verbal abuse. But it was better than the previous five schools he had attempted to send his child to. Danny had even come home one day, waving a permission form to join the astrology club at him, so John figured he owed Batman an enormous thanks. Something like a simple candlelight dinner.

If he could get the stick in the mud to say yes, that was.

Sadly, the other didn't seem to get the memo. Barry pats his shoulder again, more insistant than before. John closes his eyes, trying to get the swirling votrex of dancing unicons to vanish from his sight - He did drink far too much Sparkle Shine Ale- as he mutters. "Danny wants to go on a date."

"Is everything alright?" Barry asks, patting John on his shoulder. The British man groans into the table top, trying to hide away from the overly cheerful fellow.

He can't handle the Flash right now, not when John has finally gotten a moment of peace.

"Ah," Barry's voice takes on a teasing tone. "It's always hard realizing they're growing up."

"You don't understand." John utters in misery. "Dating is different in the Infinete Realms"

"How so?"

"It involves getting parent's permission before hand."

Barry makes a sound that might have been the start of a sentence, but his words are drowned out by a loud and powerful portal ripping the air above them. The rest of the Justice League - for John felt it was safer to get drunk away from his boy and choose to use the company lounge - spring to their feet.

John was impressed with the fact Bruce had somehow been able to sniff out the frauds, back when he didn't even know magic was real.

Besides the location of the Watchtower, various security functions had gone into the blueprints of keeping the Justice League safe. Bruce and had installed defenses from paranormal entities. Every inch of the tower had some carvings that were said to be protective wards.

Bruce placed every ward, charm, and protective coating he could find from various cultures of Earth.

If only they were powerful enough to keep this toerag away from him. John slowly raises his head far enough that his intoxicated eyes can glare at the being, who leaps out of the portal to land on his table with a thump.

"I beg of you, please allow me to date your son!" Klarion, Lord of Choas, drops to one knee and presents a bouquet of the Infinite Realm's most expensive roses. The roses shine and shimmer in various colors and never stay the same for too long. "Our marriage would be a tale for the ages!"

John can't even answer that ridiculous request before another portal rips open, and this time, Asmodeus, a king of demons in a few different realms, falls to his knees beside John's chair. He's in his more humanoid form, having heard the rumor that Danny preference said forms.

He obviously made sure that people would not forget his title of "Demon of lust"with the gorgeous human features he picked out, even if a pair of horns still stuck to his head.

He is presenting John precious jewels that many have lost their lives in an attempt to steal. Mosth had been slain by the lust demon before they even got to glanced at them. "My young lord, I humbly request your approval for your heir's right of dating. I-"

"Get lost! I was here first!" Klarion hisses, flinging magic at the lust demon, "I shall be the one to earn a date!"

"You worthless little worm!" Asmodeus growls, body shifting into a gaint beast that snares at the lord of choas. His once shining jewels now had black spots across them. "Your magic stained my jewels!"

John reaches for his other bottles as yet another voice joins the two arguing higher beings. He doesn't even want to check to see what the rest of the league thinks about all this.

"I, Trox king of the Goblins, have come to humbly request a date with Clockwork's heir -"

"NO! I was here first!"

"I'll shall prove that you worms are not worthy of Lord Danny's hand!"

John wonders, in the far conrers of his mind, if he should attempt to contact Clockwork about this. The emboloment of time was dangerous in a way that would usually mean he would avoid at all costs, but really, he doesn't think he can handle this anymore.

Every day, for the past three months, demons, ghosts, magic users, and whatever else in between would pop up, begging John to approve a date with Danny.

His son unawarely brought this about when he told John one morning before school that he was thinking about joining a dating app some of his classmates were talking about.

His innoccent words had been taken as a request for a mate by every non-human being across the mutiverse and now John was getting bombarded by beings foaming at the mouth, wanting to be the ones that had Clockwork as a in-law.

John was only human, magic powers aside, he couldn't handle this anymore.

Somewhere, he thinks he can hear his ex-lover laughing his ass off.

[unluckilyimnot]

hiiiii, can I please request bonten hc after they found out someone disrespected their gf!!

Bonten when their gf is disrespect

Character: Ran, Rindou, Koko, Sanzu, Mikey

m.list | rules

Note: I wrote that last night I forgot about the "find out" so there's both sorry 😞 thank you sm for your request 🤍

Ran

I hope for the poor guy that it's not in front of him or he can pray for his life and it's gonna be useless

Spoiler it is

It's not written on Ran's face that he's going to kill him, but everyone in the room tensed up at his "excuse me ?"

Your jaw is clenched but you feel so angry and ashamed, you really don't want to help this guy rn

As he started to stammer some useless excuse, Ran shush him instantly

"Come again ? I'm not sure i heard you right"

He's a sadistic, he wants his skin ripped of his body

He lied, not repeating at all his words

Not knowing it's gonna be worse

"So you lie to me now on top of insulting my lover?"

The second he stand up you know it's the end for him

He take one hit, then another, and another

Ran probably exposed a full bottle of alcohol on top of his head to end it

"Never again, do you hear me ?" He said, bend down to his level

Hoping that he made it clear to everyone in the room that disrespecting you it's worse than disrespecting him

Rindou

He got angry and doesn't wait to stand up

They don't even get to finish their sentence that their face is somehow already hitting the table

Doesn't matter where you are, he's never gonna let that slide

"Hey you think you're more important than her to speak shit like that ?"

He hits him until he answers, grabbing his face fiercely, letting the blood of his nose and mouth run down his fingers

"I didn't hear you ?"

If he's already knock down, he call the security to leave him in the street

He excuses himself to you all night even if you tell him it's not his fault, he thinks it is

He's suppose to make sure that all his subordinates respect you

Koko

"What ??"

You tell him what happened tear his eyes off his computer

He's in disbelief, this can't be true

He frown ad you go on with your story, walking in circles in front of his desk

He has to get up and catches you for you to stop but he can tell how upset you are

He will ask for their name again, and calm you down, smoothing your back

kindly whipping the frustration tears that show up in your eyes

He would probably take you out on a nice dinner to clear your head

You won't hear about it for a few days

But one day you'll wake up to see that their company went bankrupt and that they were found dead in their appartement, seemly suicide

If you ask Koko, he'll say he doesn't know about it but deep down you know he did it

Sanzu

He's mad to say the least

He wants to end them himself

You're tough, he knows you can handle your business alone but he just can't stand it

He'll find him himself to make him understand that that's not something you said to someone on of the higher-ups of Bonten loves

If there's one thing Sanzu put at the same place as Mikey, it's you

It's like disrespecting his boss, he can't let it unpunished

He'll probably step into their place and shot them down if there's no-one important

If they happen to be, he'll just make sure to make things complicated for them until they beg for help/found

Mikey

You're so precious he can't even picture someone talking you badly

But on top of that, you're the Bonten's boss gf, they really don't know what they're doing

But he won't handle it himself

He's too busy making sure you know your worth and make it up for you

He just make sure they suffer for good while he's having a good time with you

If it happened in front of him though, they're shot down without thinking

He can always find someone better, he doesn't need someone that don't respect him, and by that he means disrespecting you as well

It's been a while ! I hope you liked it ♡

[annwrites]

⸻ tell me i'm your national anthem. part one.

· pairing: homelander x collegestudent!reader · type: part of a series · summary: homelander comes to your college as a guest speaker. uninterested in him, or anyone of his ilk, you pay him no mind, while you're all he's able to focus on, due to your disrespect. with a bruised ego, he goes to the dean of the school afterward with a made-up tale about wanting to repay you for kind words & is then allowed to go through the student roster. that evening while making dinner, unexpected company arrives on your balcony, refusing to leave until they're let in... · tw: non-con, misogyny, obsessive behavior, stalking · word count: 2,857

You are the utter image of disrespect. Here he stands—Homelander—the savior of America, and there you sit in your seat staring down at a tablet. Doing, presumably, schoolwork.

Every pair of eyes is on him except yours. As if some goddamn essay or worksheet is more important than him and the wisdom—scripted or otherwise—he has to bestow upon all your young, moronic minds.

And when he closes his speech—your classmates immediately swarm, eager for ‘selfies’, and autographs, and to ask ignorant questions.

But you? You’re the first one out of the goddamn room.

You don’t even spare him a glance.

He makes up a story, which he feeds to your university’s dean, and he drinks it down like the smoothest cup of milk.

“I didn’t manage to get her name, but I’m sure if I look through your student roster that I’ll be able to identify her. It’s just that what she said…” He gives a dramatic pause, a melancholic smile, with a small shake of his head. “It went straight to the heart. So, I’d just like to send her something to say thank you, since I most unfortunately didn’t get that opportunity today. Maybe an edible arrangement, or a new computer for her important academic pursuits.”

There’s a loud thump on your balcony and you jolt, nearly dropping the spatula in your now-shaking hand.

You set it down upon the spoon rest, grabbing a knife instead, and with a pounding heart, and trembling limbs, step to the side—toward the glass doors of your balcony and the knife slips from your hand, clattering against the hardwood floor.

On the other side stands Homelander, a sinister smile on his face, his knuckles rapping against the glass, an expectant look in his eyes.

Your mind detaches from your body as it begins to race.

You’re hallucinating. You’d bought a new bottle of seasoning from the grocery store down the street for dinner tonight. Maybe you were having a reaction to it. Or maybe he really is here and he needs help. He doesn’t get hurt, though, does he? You don’t know much about him, in truth. He’d been at your college this morning. Does him being here now having something to do with that? You’d not spoken to or even acknowledged him, so how could it?

Does it have to do with Emma, then? She worships the ground he walks on—had apparently been one of the first people to ask for his autograph this morning, from what she’d told you. Maybe he’s looking for her? But she doesn’t live with you…

You turn the lock, then the handle, and you stare up at him. “H-Homelander?”

It feels pathetic to call him that. Some manufactured name that you’re sure a marketing department came up with so many years ago, but no one knows his real one. As if that’s not another measured choice made by Vought—someone learns it and then digging into his past begins. God forbid he’s no longer America’s plastic darling—an overgrown action figure. And he looks the part now just as much as he did this morning. Does he never get tired of the ridiculous costume?

“I came for an apology,” he states matter-of-factly, smile fading as he steps inside your apartment, staring down at you.

You shuffle back. “I—uh—how—”

“See,” he starts, raising a finger, wagging it at you like you’re a petulant child that’s about to receive a lecture. “I take precious time out of my day—we both know how important my time is. I mean…it’s far more valuable as compared to someone like yours—someone inconsequential and worthless, that is—to come to your little ‘institution’ of academics to bestow wisdom upon all of you morons, and instead of you giving me the respect I’m owed, you couldn’t be bothered to so much as look in my general direction.”

You merely stare up at him in fear, your heart hammering away—the sound causing his lip to twitch in satisfaction.

“Are you fucking stupid?” He asks lowly.

“Speak!” He shouts.

You jump. “I—I’m sorry?”

He purses his lips, shaking his head. “Mm, see, that wasn’t very convincing.”

He takes another step toward you, then another and another, while you stutter and shuffle your feet, desperate to back away from him, until you’re pinned between his broad frame and a kitchen counter.

He takes your face in his solid grip, squeezing your cheeks so hard that it hurts. If he wanted to pop your head like a cherry tomato right now…he could.

You fear that you may loose your bladder at the thought.

“Did mommy and daddy not teach their little girl respect?” He asks with a raised brow.

You continue to stare in terror.

He shrugs, brushing his gloved thumb over your lower lip. “I could always just make you get on your knees. To either suck me off or lick my boots. Maybe both,” he finishes with a grin.

You shouldn’t be surprised by this. In truth, you half are and aren’t. They’re all egotistical monsters. The smiles and kissing babies and playing the hero on live TV is all an act. This is the real him.

Not a hero. A villain.

And he wants to know why you didn’t give him an ounce of your attention, as if it should be some great mystery.

“I—I’m not doing that. I don’t…I don’t understand why you even care. What… Why you’re here, I mean. How you even—”

He sneers. “Do you not like me? I’m a fucking hero! I am the face of this country. Yet you treat me like any other insignificant schmuck on the street. I deserve some goddamn respect!”

Tears sting your wide eyes. “I dislike all celebrities the same. Please, just—”

He raises a brow. “I am not just some ‘celebrity’. I protect you. I look out for you. And this is the thanks I get for it? Some sniveling little bitc—”

It’s just then that you remember.

You shove him away from you, flipping the stove off, your burger now just a hunk of charcoal.

You throw the pan into the sink, turning the faucet on and steam begins to rise as the pan sizzles.

You groan in irritation, shoulders slumping forward.

“That was my dinner,” you mumble.

Homelander smirks. “Y’know what? That does seem like a good start at fixing things between the two of us. You can have the honor of making me dinner. Maybe we play house for the evening.”

You turn back around with furrowed brows, sure that he must be joking. This entire experience feels like a bad trip. You have the world’s strongest—most famous, even—man in your apartment whining over hurt feelings and asking you to make him dinner like you’re some obedient little housewife.

He takes a step closer.

“Go on, start cooking. Before I make you,” he says, tone low and threatening.

Your eyes flit between his for just a moment before you turn slowly back around, turning the burner back on, having no idea what to even prepare for him.

That’d been the last of your hamburger meat…

You glance to your bread box, while Homelander seats himself comfortably at your small dining table.

“How does a grilled cheese sandwich sound?”

He’s pleased with that offer—something a mother would make for her little one, he thinks.

“I’ll take two,” he replies with a chipper tune.

You nod, retrieving a plate from a cabinet, then open the fridge to grab a small tub of butter.

“I’d like a glass of milk,” he says, interrupting you.

You grab the jug, pouring him a glass as requested.

Your hand shakes as you hold it toward him, but he merely takes it from you with a smile. “Thank you, sweetie.”

You stay quiet, turning back to the stove, Homelander watching your every move.

“Would you mind cutting the crusts off?”

You do as he’s asked without complaint, even if he’s being utterly juvenile right now.

He’s just trying to get under your skin, you’re sure. He’ll eat the sandwiches, then go. And the only time you’ll ever see him again will be on TV. Like normal.

Maybe it’s not such a good thing that he knows where you live now…

You grab the edge of the plate and he speaks again. “And can you cut them each into triangles?”

You raise a brow, but he can’t see it with your back still turned.

“I always thought that was so…charming,” he says with a grin.

So the God of America is a giant manchild, it turns out. Great.

You finally turn around, settling the plate in front of him and then he holds his empty glass toward you.

You give him a refill, silently sliding it back to him, seating yourself across from him.

You fold your hands nervously in your lap.

“Just going to sit there and watch me eat?” He asks, taking his first bite.

You swallow thickly. “I’m…not hungry anymore.”

He leans back, chewing, then swallowing. “What’re you in school for, then?”

This entire experience feels completely surreal. You’re sure at any moment you’ll wake up.

Wait.

What if you have a gas leak? Your stove is electric, but this apartment complex probably has a gas line somewhere, right? You make a mental note to check on that later.

“Creative writing,” you reply quietly.

Not even you could’ve crafted a story this ridiculous and far-fetched.

“Read me something you’ve written.”

You shift uncomfortably and he notes your heart skipping a beat. You’re insecure about it—the things you create. He relates to that—being insecure about that which you’re most passionate about. How strange a dichotomy it is.

“I don’t…I don’t want to.”

He leans in toward you. “Well, it’s either that, or, once I’m done with my dinner, I carry you over to your bed and have my way with you. Whether you want to or not.”

He can’t possibly be serious. He’s not…he’s a not a rapist. Right? Then again…he’d already threatened to force you onto your knees.

You stand, padding across the room and retrieve your laptop from atop your bed—swiping tears from your eyes—returning to him.

You turn it on and begin browsing through your documents—trying to find one that’s both innocuous, but interesting enough.

And then he shakes his head. “Nope. Give it here. I get to choose which one,” he says, motioning for the device with his hand.

You do as instructed and begin to feel just a tad nauseated as you watch him peruse your computer for a story.

And then he smirks, clicking, turning it back to you.

Blood rushes to your face.

He takes another bite of his sandwich, then a sip of his milk. “Go on then. Almost done. Or don’t. I win either way,” he says with a slight shrug, taking another bite.

He had to choose the one document that is a story of pure smut.

You clear your throat nervously, knowing you have no other choice. Fighting against him would be futile. Him overpowering you would take no effort on his part whatsoever. You’re sure that’s what he wants anyway. And you’re not about to just hand yourself over to him.

This embarrassment will be temporary.

The memory of him…you'd never forget. Nor would you ever be able to tell.

“He—” you pause, sighing, straightening your spine, then tell yourself just to get through it.

You’re not the first person to have ever written a sex scene before.

“He eases her slender legs over his shoulders, kissing her inner thighs gently, enjoying the lovely sounds that slip from her beautiful lips, begging for him. Her lover, her soulmate, her entire world—wishing for the two of them to finally be joined as one in this final way. And then he kisses her lips—her most intimate ones.”

John’s lip twitches. Not just at the mortified look upon your adorable face, but the delicious fucking smell of your arousal.

He wonders if the story is written as mere fantasy or from memory.

He intends to find out.

Tonight.

You gently take Homelander’s empty plate from him, your face flushed—now slick between your thighs—but you stay quiet, feeling humiliated. You want him to leave. Want to never see him again.

You’ve never felt so disrespected.

But that had been the point, hadn’t it? To make you feel how he thinks you made him feel that morning.

You hate him.

And now you’ll have to live with this. Knowing what he’s really like, and unable to tell anyone while the rest of the country—the world—continues to worship at his altar that’s built upon countless lies.

You put his plate in the dishwasher, then his glass, and it’s when you straighten that you feel large hands coming to rest firmly atop your shoulders.

You freeze, heartrate quickening once again.

His gloved hands then slide down your arms and your chin wobbles.

“So, was it just fantasy, or reality?”

Your brows furrow. “W—what?”

“The story. I’m asking if you’ve ever done that before.”

You swallow nervously. “I—no. I haven’t.”

His cock hardens, a feeling of satisfaction filling him at your pleasing answer.

He takes your breasts in each of his hands then, gently kneading them.

You swing around, a tear slipping down your cheek. “You can’t—”

He wraps a hand firmly around your throat, cutting your protests short.

“Oh, honey,” he says, stepping closer, his erection pressing against your upset stomach. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

He grins. “And I think you’re going to like it.”

He leans down, crushing his lips to yours, forcing your mouth open and he plunges his tongue inside, making you gag on it.

He slips his hands beneath your thighs, lifting you onto the kitchen counter, gripping the waistband of your shorts, as well as your panties, and he pulls them both down your legs in one fell swoop, ignoring your mewls and squeals of protest.

You shove against his chest, panicking, ready to begin screaming, until he pulls back—his eyes going bright red, tightening his hold around your throat. “Hold the fuck still or I’ll kill you right here and now, sweetheart.”

You stare at him for only a moment before nodding slightly.

He releases his hold around your neck and you gingerly wrap your own hand around it.

And then he kneels, gripping your hips, grinning up at you, even winking and then he shoves his face between your thighs, throwing your calves over his shoulders.

You sit there in complete shock for only a moment before he begins lapping at you with his tongue, spreading your labia with his fingers, flicking his speared tip against your clit and then your body jerks and you draw in a ragged breath, slamming your head back against the cabinet behind you.

He smirks between your legs, doing it again, and you moan quietly.

You’re supposed to be fighting back—should be jumping off this counter and running out the door and screaming rape.

But you can’t. Not unless you want to die.

So this is your only choice. To sit on this counter and wait for him to finish. But he won’t be finished until you are, will he?

And the fact he’s recreating what was in your story—the fact that he’s on his knees giving you oral…oh dear God this situation is a nightmare.

Or so you think, until he begins sucking on your clit and your eyes go wide and your breaths become shallow.

You tangle your fingers in his hair then, unable to help yourself as you pull him closer and he moans into your slick, hot core.

He’s utterly satisfied with the fact you’re dripping for him, desperate for more. For him.

He flicks his tongue, spells his goddamn name—his real name—marking you as his. Even if you don’t fucking know it yet…you will be. His. You belong to him. So help him God if you even think about talking to another man at your little school after this he’ll laser him in half while you watch.

“Oh God,” you whisper and he knows you’re close when your heartrate begins to climb impossibly higher—fluttering like a hummingbird—fingers tightening in his blond strands.

He kisses your cunt, flicks his tongue, fucks you with it—spells the word ‘mine’, and it’s as he finishes his ‘e’ that you begin to cry, your hips squirming beneath his grip as you orgasm right against his mouth, his tongue lodged firmly between your pulsating walls.

And then he stands—eyes trailing along your flushed cheeks and neck and chest, your eyes hooded, limbs relaxed, and your legs still spread wide—the counter, your thighs, and his face are all slick from your arousal.

He crushes his lips back to yours one last time, letting you taste your own sweet American honey before he pulls away, lips hovering over yours as he smirks.

“Now we’re even,” he mutters.

He heads back toward the balcony.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he throws over his shoulder before launching into the sky, leaving you sitting there half-naked and ashamed of yourself, tears gathering in your eyes as you begin to sob.

[sp1der-wid0w]

ACHOO! BABY I’M SICK

starring….

jennifer check. miles morales. patrick bateman. maddy perez. miguel o’hara.

𝘑𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬

★ She’s definitely grossed out, and immediately stays away from you for at least a few days.

★ Though she gives in, and finally comes to see you.

★ She acts annoyed, and is nonchalant with all of your sneezing and moans about how terrible you feel. But deep down, she’s so sad to see her precious baby so ill and tortured.

★ The least she’ll do for you, is go to the gas station and get you soup in a can. But first, she’ll have to seduce the cash register to let her get it for free.

★ When you ask her for anything else, she’ll reluctantly do it for you. As you feel sleepy, she’ll give in and give you a kiss goodnight.

𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘻

★ “Aww, poor baby.” She coos, while she rubs your hair.

★Whoever she was planning on hanging out with, like Cassie, Rue, or Feszco, she’s cancelling out on them, just for you.

★She goes into momma bear mode, and buys you some snacks, and make sure to take your temperature. You were so grateful for this, that you got such a beautiful, loyal, devoting girlfriend.

★ “Won’t Cassie be upset that you’re not there with her?” you asked.

★ “Cassie can handle a few minutes without me, tonight, it’s all about you.” She says, smirking her lips.

𝘔𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴

★ When you call him to tell him you’re sick, he immediately webslings over to your place, and goes to give you company.

★ He puts his hand above your head, and looks at you with such devotion.

★ “Won’t you get sick too?” You moan.

★ “Nahh, I won’t.” He chuckles.

★ For the whole day, he stays by your place, doing whatever you asked him too, from covering you with extra blankets, putting on your favorite anime, and just telling you the drama at school.

★ When it comes to saving the day, he has to make a choice between taking care of you, or saving Brooklyn.

★ “Miles.” You choke. “I’ll be fine— Go save Brooklyn.”

★ He sighs, before kissing the tip of your forehead and slinging away. “Call me if you need anything.” He calls, on the way out of your window.

𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯

★ Sends you $500 on cashapp, and texts you don’t talk to him when you feel better.

𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘖’𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢

★ When he hears of your sickness, he brings you to HQ, and carries you to the infirmary.

★ You complain that you want Miguel to be on your side, but he justifies that he has some multiverse work to do.

★ Eventually after many complains from Peter and Jess and you, he goes to visit you in the infirmary, and gives you a box of tissues, as well as some water.

★ He gives you some words of reassurance, trying to make you feel better at least. He makes sure that LYLA stays at your side, and tells him about your temperature.

★ When he takes his time off work, he goes by your side and caresses your face.

“Mig..” You groaned, then sneezed. “I.. I wanna feel better.”

He simply grunts.

“You’ll feel better, mi sol. LYLA and the doctors will take care of you. In the meantime, you need anything?”

You give him a cheeky look, and few minutes later, he comes back to your side with a bunch of teddy bears, soup bars, candy and chocolates, and a reaallll sour expression on his face.

“I wuvvv you, Miggy.”

[zebuie]

#♡BOYS WILL BE BUGS♡#

❝𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒❞; bbf!ellie x reader

❁ཻུ۪۪ ⋅ READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ➹

❝𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒❞; After a breakup, your brother's best friend offers guidance through guitar lessons, but the connection between you deepens, crossing the lines of friendship.

❝𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒❞; 1.7k words, reader had a bf, swearing, this is actually pretty fluffy,✂️✂️✂️, fingering (r receiving, nipple sucking (r receiving, Ellie calls u princess like once, i honestly don’t knowwww😔

↳𝐀/𝐍; Ellie being bbf is mentioned like once……✊🏽 it’s the thought that counts tho right !! i whipped this up in honor of pride month when I was work.happey bride month❤️❤️ be whooo u areeee 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩✂️

It was a crisp morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon when your boyfriend shattered your heart in the most cowardly way possible - through a simple text message. 

I mean- how shittier can he get?!

You found yourself unable to leave the comfort of your bed for three whole days as you grappled with the depth of betrayal. Just when you thought you were alone, your brother's best friend, Ellie, entered your room with a gentle knock on the door.

"She sat gingerly on the edge of your bed, her eyes filled with concern and empathy. Softly, she spoke, her voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart. "Hey," she began, her gaze never leaving your face, "I know this is tough, but you can't keep hiding in here forever."

Ellie's hand reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. 

Her touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she was handling something fragile and precious. 

Her fingers lingered on your cheek for a moment, tracing a soothing pattern against your skin.

She continued to stroke your hair, speaking in a voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I just thought...maybe you'd want some company.” You stayed silent.

Ellie paused for a moment, her eyes glinting mischievously as she seemed to come to some sort of decision. "Wait right here," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument. She rose from the edge of the bed and disappeared out of sight.

"I think this'll cheer you up," she said, her fingers dancing over the strings, producing a soft, melodic tune. The guitar hummed under her touch, the notes weaving a soothing, gentle melody that filled the air. (and of course she’s playing take on me by a-ha.)

Ellie began to sing, her voice soft and sweet as it matched the melody of the guitar. 

The words she sang were familiar, the chorus of a song you knew well. 

Despite the pain you were feeling, you couldn't help but be comforted by her presence, the sound of her voice, and the gentle strums of her guitar.

Her eyes never left your face as she sang, the words seeming almost like a comforting anthem aimed at lifting your spirits. 

The room was bathed in a warm, golden light as she continued to play, the notes hanging in the air like silent promises of better days ahead.

As the last note faded away, Ellie set the guitar down, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. 

"How was that?" she asked, still peering intently into your face, searching for signs of improvement. "Did it help even a little bit?"

You found yourself nodding slightly, a small spark of hope flickering within you. 

The music, combined with her gentle care, had managed to break through the cloud of despair that had surrounded you for days. 

Her eyes lit up at your response, her smile widening into a full-blown grin.

You found yourself suddenly sitting up a little straighter, the spark of curiosity igniting within you. "Could you..." you began, your voice hesitant, 

"teach me how to play?"

Ellie's eyes widened slightly, surprise flitting across her features before being replaced by a soft smile. 

"Of course," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "I'd love to teach you."

Ellie's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she shifted on the bed, moving behind you. 

"Alright," she said, her voice a soft whisper against your ear. "Here, let me show you how to hold the guitar properly.

Her hands gently guided yours as she positioned the guitar across your lap, her fingers delicately adjusting the placement of your hands. "Just like this..." she murmured, her voice soft and patient. 

Her body was close, her chest almost touching your back, as she leaned forward, her chin resting on your shoulder.

Her breath was warm against your skin, the tips of her fingers tracing lightly over your knuckles. "Now, place your fingers here, on the strings," she instructed, her voice a soothing murmur. "Yep, just like that.

Her hand enveloped your own, guiding your fingers into the correct position on the fretboard. "Now, press down firmly, but not too hard," she instructed, her voice steady and soothing. 

As you pressed down, a soft chord echoed through the room, the sound surprisingly sweet.

Ellie let out a soft laugh, her breath tickling your ear. "Not bad for a beginner," she said, her tone filled with pride. "Now, try strumming the strings gently.

You took a deep breath, positioning your fingers properly as you stroked them over the strings, producing another soft sound. 

Ellie nodded her head in approval, a smile in her voice as she spoke. "Perfect. You're catching on quickly."

She moved to wrap her arms around you, her body pressing closer against your back. 

Her chin was still perched on your shoulder as she watched you intently, her breath warm against your skin. 

"Try strumming a little faster now," she encouraged, her voice rich with patience.

You obeyed, your fingers moving a bit faster over the strings, producing a slightly faster, more melodious sound. 

Your heart was pounding, a strange mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through you. 

Ellie chuckled, the sound rumbling softly through her chest. "See? You're a natural."

Her chin moved from your shoulder to your ear, her lips hovering dangerously close as she spoke. 

"Now try and do it without looking at the strings. Trust your fingers to find the right frets..." her voice low and gentle.

Your breath caught in your throat at the nearness of her face, but you pushed the sensation away and focused on the strings beneath your fingers. 

Slowly, you began to strum, trying to remember the placement of your fingers without looking. It was a bit more challenging, but the sound was still clear and sweet. 

"Good..." Ellie whispered, her voice filled with encouragement.

Her breath was warm on your neck now, the proximity of her body making goose bumps erupt on your skin.

 "Keep going like that," she murmured, her hands still guiding your own on the guitar. "You're doing great."

The heat of her body was intoxicating, the closeness almost overwhelming. 

Your fingers moved over the strings, each stroke producing a clear, sweet sound that filled the room. Her breath was warm against your ear, her chest rising and falling in time with your own. 

"That's it," she whispered, her voice a soothing murmur. "You're a fast learner.”

You couldn't help yourself anymore. 

The tension in the room was palpable, and the proximity of her body to yours was driving you wild. Turning around abruptly, you captured her lips in a swift, impulsive kiss.

Ellie's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but quickly softened as she melted into the kiss. 

Her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified. The guitar fell to the side, forgotten, as your lips moved together hungrily.

The moment your lips meet Ellie's, the world around you fades away. The guitar, the lesson, the fact that she was teaching you how to play guitar minutes ago—none of it matters as you lose yourselves in the kiss. 

Ellie's fingers dig into your hips as she pulls you flush against her body; her tongue dancing with yours in a passionate tango.

Finally breaking apart for air, Ellie's cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are heavy-lidded with desire. "Fuck," she breathes hoarsely. 

She looks up to you as a way of asking for permission and eagerly you nod, she lows herself down and pulls down your shorts.

 She licks her lips before leaning in to press a kiss to the fabric. "So pretty." Her fingers hook into the elastic, pulling the material aside as she gives your bare sex a long, admiring look. 

"so wet already," she notes with a smile. With that, she plunges two fingers inside you, feeling you clench around the intrusion.

Ellie gently rocks her fingers inside you, curving them to stroke that magical spot. You moan softly, your hips undulating against her hand as she explores your sensitive depths. "Relax, princess," she coos. 

"jus let me take care of you." Her thumb rubs slow circles over your clit as her fingers continue their tender thrusts. 

You feel your pleasure building under her ministrations; your body trembling and your breath growing short.

As you near the edge, Ellie slows her movements, pulling her fingers out of you slowly as she gently pulls off your shirt.

she kisses you again, soft and sweet; her tongue flicking across your lips as she holds you close. When she finally pulls away, she leaves a trail of gentle kisses down your neck. "I want to see all of you," she whispers, snapping open your bra with deft fingers. 

She guides it off, letting your breasts fall free. "So beautiful," she breathes, taking one of your nipples into her mouth for a tender suck.

Ellie laves your breast, lapping at the nipple with her tongue before nipping it gently. 

She worships your chest with slow, reverent kisses as her hands roam over your skin, rediscovering every curve and dip. When she finally looks up at you again, her eyes are dark with need.

 "Please," she whispers, "I need to feel you against me." With that, she guides you down onto the couch, settling between your legs as she lines herself up with your entrance. Slowly, she sinks inside you—both of you moaning at the sensation of their joining.

The kiss breaks, and Ellie rests her forehead against yours; her body buried inside you to the hilt. "Holy shit..” she breathes. "so good." She begins to move, slowly at first, rolling her hips as she searches for the perfect angle. When she finds it, she doesn't hesitate, pounding into you with all the passion she's been holding back. 

The bed creaks in protest as you're slammed against it—Ellie's nails digging into your hips as she claims you.

You cling to Ellie as she rides you hard, your fingers twisted in her hair as your bodies slam together again and again. The sound of skin on skin fills the room; mingling with your ragged breathing and Ellie's throaty moans. 

She slams her hips down, burying herself to the hilt inside you as she grinds against your clit with every thrust, “my fucking god-“ she gasps. "I'm gonna...fuck, I'm gonna cum." With that, she buries her face in your neck, biting the sensitive skin as she convulses above you; her pussy clamping down on you like a vice.

[loupy-mongoose]

Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)

It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.

The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.

Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!

Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.

Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.

Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.

He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.

Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)

Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.

The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.

There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.

Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.

What could be done?

They came to a silent agreement.

Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...

To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.

Curiosity.

The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.

Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)

The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.

Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?

The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...

The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.

I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...

Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...

Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.

Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

New skill acquired~

And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.

Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD

[luveline]

if you’re taking joel requests here’s one :3

touch-starved!joel who isn’t aware he’s touch starved but then extremely affectionate reader comes along and just always! touches! him! loving & intentional touches, casual touches—all of it drives him wild and he loves it!!

thank you!! I hope this is okay! Touch-starved Joel who wants you but doesn't know how to want you w/ mutual pining ♥︎ fem!reader 2k

Joel wishes you wouldn't work the same shifts as him. Wishes you didn't have to work any shifts at all, wishes you didn't know this life, but you do. He wishes you wouldn't pick all the high-paying, devastating jobs that he does, wishes you didn't insist on keeping him company. And above all, he wishes you wouldn't touch him, because he can't handle the way that he feels when you do. 

Sharing shifts turns to seeing one another outside of the old meat market by accident. In turn, that becomes purposeful. Before he really knows it, you're comfortable enough to come by his apartment and you'll wait there even when he isn't home just to see him. Precious hours of your life spent curled in on yourself at his door. 

Joel nudges your sleeping body with his shoe and then feels like the world's biggest asshole. He sighs, kneeling down despite his aching back, and shakes your shoulder. He notices how soft your jaw looks when you sleep and has to look away, lest he think about it too much now, and remember it later. You have this habit of chasing him into bed when you're not there. 

Your hand wakes before your eyes do, and you curl your fingers around his wrist, half on his sleeve and half on his skin. Where you connect hums with heat. 

"Why are you out here?" He changes his prerogative, feeling as though chastisement is more important. "You have no sense of danger, even now. Get up." 

He doesn't speak without fondness. You'd have to look hard to find it, but it's undoubtedly there.

His tone has you awake and alert quickly, your gaze on his face. "I do," you say croakily, letting him pull you into a standing position. 

"Then what are you doing out here?" 

"I can't call first… You look tired." 

"I am. I'm not staying up." He pulls his wrist from your lingering grasp. "Should've called."

"You act like you don't like me," you say without inflection, following him in through the door and closing it softly behind you. 

He drops his jacket over the back of the couch and scrubs his face with both hands. His back aches from standing and heaving all day, his arms tight with a cramping tension. 

If he were younger he'd turn around and wrap you up in his arms. He'd tell you what he really thinks of you, your head hooked in the crook of his arm, his free hand roaming lazily over your back. His pinky finger would run along the line of your jeans playfully, and maybe you'd laugh. You don't laugh as much as you should. 

"Are you hungry?" he asks. 

"No, Joel."

You'd lie even if you were. 

He moves into the kitchen, makes himself a small glass of water, and leans against the counter. He tries not to drink it like a total pig knowing you're watching, but he's dehydrated and cotton-mouthed. 

The window paints you in a weak light, like iced tea. You pick over his things and arrange yourself on the couch like a tired house cat, pulling your legs up and rubbing your cheek against the backrest. Shoulders to the arm, you're almost lying down. He could superimpose you into his sheets, imagining how you might look in bed, not naked or waiting or anything so salacious, just how you’d look getting ready to sleep. He wonders if you wear pyjamas, figures you likely sleep dressed as you are now in your shirt and jeans. Maybe you swap denim for sweatpants, maybe you don’t. Maybe you peel your shirt off, maybe your bra. He entertains a life where he gets to see it and finds it painful as wrapping his hand around a hot poker, because that life is alarmingly close to this one, if he were to take one small leap.

“Where were you today?” he asks.

He sees a flicker of humour flit across your face. He knows it as one of your tells — you'd thought about bending the truth.

"You don’t have to worry, I’m just… rundown. Felt sicker than usual, so I stayed home." 

It's automatic for him to give you a once over as he would with anybody who feels under the weather. You haven't been unlike yourself, you aren't sweating or irritable. You're fine. You’re more than fine.

You have a strange inability to look after yourself. He believes in positive (and negative) reinforcement. 

"Good girl," he says. 

You smile at your hands, picking at nails he knows are scrubbed raw and clean as he crosses the room to sit with you on the couch. You're quick to push your legs over his lap, your jeans riding up until the rarely-seen skin of your ankles peak out. 

"I had an incredible headache," you continue. "And I felt like the blood was rushing in my ears when I stood up but I wasn’t dizzy.”

You touch him and it's like all his agitation starts to numb itself. The weight of your legs has him forgetting his aching back and his sore arms. He stares at his closed fist by your foot, willing himself to touch you; all he wants to do is grab your leg, feel the dough and softness of it under his palm. You sit up a touch to brush a longer piece of hair sticking out behind his neck. 

He pretends you aren't moving at all. 

"Do you feel better now?" he asks. 

Your knuckle brushes under his jaw. He feels the short hairs of his beard catching. 

"I feel fine," you say. "How are you feeling?" 

He turns to face you head on. He’s not going to answer your question. You already know he won’t, but you've asked anyway. He isn’t sure what to do with that.

“You really do look tired,” you say softly, concern knitting your brows together. He thinks it’s your most devastating look yet. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Joel, I’ll go home. You can get some real rest.”

He almost says Hey, I don’t want you to leave yet, and you’re already standing up. You look more sorry than you should, believing that you're a burden on him when you aren’t — you're a lightness. You drain the levy, and he can’t see himself getting any rest at all if you leave. 

You’re saving him the awkwardness, climbing off of his couch and out of his lap to track down your shoes. “And, you know, you could shower,” you say, trying to infuse some life back into the room, “I know the cold water bites but we all gotta do it.”

He stands up too fast and feels an absence of noise. No blood rushing in his ears, no beating heart. He’s too tired, in every sense of the word, to ask for what he wants. He can’t ask you to stay. 

You lean down to hook your finger into the back of your sneaker and stop at his expression. You stand a little taller. Whatever vulnerability he sees in you now, your short black socks against the floor, your sweet-eyed, tentative smile, he suspects he’d find it doubled in the mirror. 

“Joel, I…”

He can’t ask you. 

But that doesn't mean you can't ask him. 

"Do you think I could stay, after all? To sleep. Just to sleep," you say. Your voice is quiet, like you're trying to spare yourself some dignity if you need to take it back. 

He thinks about it. You, in his bed. You, sleeping as you had been in his hallway, your lashes skimming the delicate skin under your eyes, your neck craned in. You, with your hands under your cheek, your sluggish breathing, your heart capering only a handful of inches from his. 

A beat. "You kick in your sleep?" he asks, cotton-mouth returned.

"No," you say. You laugh through it, making the word so thick it's almost sticky. Honey in sound. 

It solidifies what he's said yes to. He doesn't know how to sleep next to you. He barely knows how to talk to you, and doesn't try as he leads you into his bedroom. Thankfully, you spare him. He knows you aren't the most confident person on the planet, and that each bold move you make is for his benefit. He tries to be unflinching in return, kicking out of his shoes and throwing back the blankets to lie flat on the sheets. You settle in next to him with little ceremony.

You keep your legs hiked up at first, your heels digging into the mattress near his knees. You turn your face to his, and he turns his face to yours. He can see your every wrinkle and line this close. You must be seeing his. 

"You got lucky with the neighbour lottery, huh?" you say, not quite whispering. "It's silent." 

He doesn't want you to stop talking, but he can't help himself. "Almost," he says wryly.

You know him well enough to smile. "I guess you don't need the quiet," —you turn carefully onto your side, letting the weight of your knees rest on his thigh— "'cause you work all day every day." 

The opposite. The shit he sees on shift is enough to give anybody insomnia. 

"I'm the bad neighbour." 

"Oh, right, your radio." The back of your hand touches his arm. The slightest of touches but enough to make him realise how much he wants it. He can't remember the last time somebody touched him who wasn't you, not for years now. It's an amicable casualness he can't explain away. He wants it worse than a hydro.

"I might, uh, might cling a little, in my sleep. You can push me away, swears. Even if you gotta really fight me on it." You close your eyes, burrowing your face into one of his flat pillows. Your knuckles jump up his arm as you get comfortable. "Jus' shove me." 

He closes his eyes. The dark of his eyelids is usually a torment, but with you this close it lulls him quickly and without finesse. "I'm not gonna shove you," he says while he still can. 

He's on the precipice of sleep when your hand slides up his bicep. You feel along the soft ridging of his muscles until your fingers slot between his arm and his chest, and your nose is kissing his shoulder. It's as if the moonlight has heat and it's bearing down on him through the dirty windows as every stressed ligament, every tensed tissue in his sore body finally gives in to rest.

When he wakes, he's missed his morning shift start. You're clinging to him like you said you would, harder than he'd think possible considering your unconsciousness, with your lips pressed to his shoulder. He thinks it might leave a bruise. 

He dips his face toward yours until the tip of his nose nudges your forehead and goes back to sleep.

[kikker-oma]

I made a small fic for this piece of art you did bc it stuck me with emotion and I couldn’t resist

the art:

Time walked through the inn hallways, carrying a glass of water for the traveller, who had succumbed to magic exhaustion and was resting peacefully for the time being. He heard a keening sob, and then a sniffle and paused, the water splashing slightly from the abrupt stop. He followed the sound to the room where the sailor, the smithy, and the captain were staying. Worriedly, he knocked on the door with his free hand. “What?” Came a worn, small voice and the old man’s heart stuttered. 

“Can I come in?”

“I—“ A hiccup. “Yeah.”

He turned the knob and opened the door, stepping inside and examining the room, seeing the familiar blue tunic of the sailor’s and recognizing Wind, sitting on one of the bed’s with his legs dangling on the ground. He met Wind’s eyes and saw the tears and softened, closing the door shut as quietly as he could. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Time approached the kid slowly.

When all he got was a barely bit back sob he sat down next to the sailor and noticed he was clutching a telescope tightly to his chest, so tightly his knuckles were white. He didn’t press, merely laid a hand on his shoulder. And Wind looked back at the old man with streams of tears falling down his cheeks and dripping down his chin, his eyebrows pressed and he released his tense grip on the telescope holding it up slightly. “Y’know—sometimes I stay up…A-and I think about what she went through.”

She. Time held his breath, wondering who this girl was but also finding himself nearly at tears seeing and hearing this. Wind hiccuped again. “And—I th-think that.”

A sob tore its way out of the kid’s mouth and Time uttered something softly, a reassurance. Wind continued anyway. “It r-really should’ve been me.”

“No. I don’t know what happened, but you don’t deserve whatever was so bad that she went through.”

“My s-sister, she was kidnapped. She was only six years old—“ Wind gasped. “And she has nightmares of her time in a cell. I would’ve been able to handle it, old man. It should’ve been me.” 

And didn’t that make Time’s heart ache more than ever. He hugged the kid. “She’s safe now, right?” 

“W-well yeah…”

“Because you rescued her. Who would’ve been there to save you had you been in her stead?” 

He got no reply, just a muffled hiccup. Time wiped the kid’s tears away. “We can’t change the past. And no matter what your mind may tell you, even though your sister has gone through a lot, she still has you, right? You’re both still alive.” 

He wasn’t expecting a response. He wasn’t expecting anything from the poor kid right now. 

Kids. These are just kids.

Time waited patiently, keeping the sailor company as he took in what was just said and continued to cry, until Wind spoke, saying, “This telescope is my sister’s. She let me borrow it, before she…Y’know got kidnapped but when I tried to give it back she insisted that I needed it more.” 

“I see. She sounds kind.”

“She is. She helps out where she can and she comforts me when I have nightmares and Grandma isn’t there to,” Wind sniffled, rubbing his eyes. “Aryll’s the whole reason I’m out there, looking for a new place to call Hyrule. I just wish she hadn’t had to go through what she did.”

“I find myself wanting to meet her,” Time hummed. “Is she younger or older than you?” 

“Younger. When she got k-kidnapped I was about 11.”

And so the old man stood up, and smiled softly back down at the sailor. “Would you like to check on the traveller with me? I was giving him some water.”

“Yes!” Wind smiled back, hopping up and following the old man through the inn.

I feel sick. These kids have gone through so much…because I wasn’t there. I abandoned them.

ASHAJAJAHFJF

Time comforting Wind is SO PRECIOUS!!!

Dad vibes DAD VIBES DAD VIBES!!!

Oh wind is such a selfless older brother, he cares so much and is so sacrificing out of love!

I adore that time doesn't expect anything from wind, just talks with him and comforts, and then gives him the option to help Hyrule totake his mind off of it. A nice distraction while also fulfilling the need to do more and help❤️

Oh but Tiiiiimmme don't you start feeling the same way!! Someone tell this man to listen to his own words!!

Thank you Uni, this was SUCH a lovely surprise!!!!!

[haerenven]

♯┆SOFT SPOT .ᐟ ★ - roronoa zoro

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— you are the only person who can be trusted by Zoro when it comes to his swords, we all know how much he is so possessive and clingy and careful about his swords, but you were absolutely different

— he barely can handle anyone try to touch his swords, but her ?.. absolutely fine, you also sometimes clean his swords and blades until they get Completely clean

— “Zoro, I’ll borrow your swords” she said confidently before stand up and pulled His precious sword Wado Ichimonji and he actually didn’t mind at all ! , he was leaning his head on his arms that placed behind his head and muttered “don’t step over me”, she pulled the sword and looked at the little boy “let’s see what you’ve got” she said with deep tone, meanwhile Zoro lean forward the table, watching and absolutely enjoying the whole scene with proud smirk, and the little boy was He was trembling with fear.

— girls? NAH, her? HELL YEAH !!

— when you with both of Nami and robin go to shopping on new island you guys stopped in, Nami was showing her new clothes to the rest of the crew (with both of Sanji and brook compliment), Zoro was lay on floor on his side and didn’t look.., the robin came and show her new clothes, and still Zoro didn’t care..

— but when you came and show your new clothes, Zoro turned his head to look at you while still laying

— he usually like wasting his free time on training or naps, but if you were free and saw you needing company, all pleasure…

— he usually don’t understand any of things you actually interest in, but he don’t mind listening and when he hear weird things he be like “what the hell is that ?” He looked confused raised an eyebrow and rubbed the back of his neck, but keep listening to anything you say

— and that it the next point !

— Zoro don’t listen to anyone orders only luffy…and you, even he can not even say or admit it, but yeah that true

— “I’ll go to look, too” Zoro said huffed, Sanji stopped him “wait, moss-head !” , Zoro rolled his eyes before placed on Sanji “what?, gotta go to find an old man whose head is cut off, right?”, “you?!, go looking for someone??” Sanji said annoyed , Zoro start getting annoyed “shut up and let me go you shitty cook” , “then who gonna look for you?” Sanji said hating that idea, Zoro thinks before saying “well…” , “he is right, Zoro !! Stay here” chopper said worried and freaking, “you too ?”

— she sighed and said with soft small sweet smile “just wait for us here” she said softly, then Zoro said “alright then…”

— in any sudden fight or any uncomfortable situation, Zoro had this kinda thing it might be habit, that he make sure he step forward A front of you and make sure you behind him to protect you from any sudden attack, (even when everyone knows you are one of the strongest crew members and definitely you can hold yourself)

— when both of you be chosen to go and shopping for the rest as task, when you keep your eyes on any random stuff, specially when it’s something clearly you really like it, he will wait for you to be busy with anything else and then he pick up the same thing you were looking at seconds ago

— when you comeback to the ship he came to your cabin, “hey? I saw that earlier and I thought you might like it”, she gasped softly and smiled joyfully “woah !, thank you zo”

— when one time you both had an random conversation, “I can be anything for you, just tell me what do you want me to be”, she chuckled and shook her head “you’re dumb” she said joking, he had a small “I can be that” (the notebook movie)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ────── ⋆ .⺌ ⟡ ⊂ ✦ ⊃ ⟡ ⺌.⋆ ────── ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[steddieas-shegoes]

hiii not sure if you’re still taking requests but

no upside down au where teen single dad steve approaches eddie after hellfire bc every parenting stuff keeps mentioning how reading to babies is super important for their development but his dyslexia makes reading so hard let alone be expressive w it too and the kids keep mentioning how eddie is amazing on dnd. eddie is skeptical cause how come no ones has heard of king steve’s one year old ? but he accepts when steve offers paying but after seeing steve w his baby and understanding how he changed he refuses the money and cue them slowly falling in love and becoming a family <333

Sorry this took *checks watch* like 9 months to finish! I kinda took some creative turns, but it's done!

read on ao3

rated t | 5,182 words | no cw | tags: mostly fluff, single parent steve, not canon compliant, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Early August 1985

“Steve, it’s not like he’s gonna fuckin’ bite, dude,” Dustin said from the passenger seat.

“Language.”

“She’s not even awake,” Dustin whisper yelled. “I promise he’s cool. The worst he’ll say is no. It’s not like he’s gonna bully you.”

“No one else knows I’m asking him this, right?” Steve was suddenly worried that all the kids knew about Steve’s learning disability and they’d think he was actually stupid and-

“No, it’s just me. But if you don’t hurry up and go in before everyone else gets here, they’ll find out.”

Steve glanced in the backseat, smiling to himself at his sleeping daughter. She’d been out for nearly the entire drive from his house to Dustin’s to the high school, so she’d probably be waking up within the next 20 minutes and she’d be ready to stretch her legs.

She was a squirmy thing from the moment she figured out how to scoot around the floor, and it only got worse when she learned to walk at 11 months. The only time she was still and staying out of trouble was when she was asleep.

“If she starts crying, just sit back there with her. She just likes having company,” Steve reminded him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yep. I’ve literally babysat for you before. I can handle her for 5 minutes.”

“Attitude.” Steve shook his head and opened the door, getting out and only closing the door most of the way so it wouldn’t wake her up.

Eddie always showed up 30 minutes early for Hellfire Club to set up according to Dustin. He took this club very seriously, even as a third year senior. He kept it running all summer so that incoming freshmen would have time to get acquainted with his style of DMing or whatever.

Steve respected the dedication, though he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that dedication were put into his homework, he would’ve graduated in May with Steve.

But Steve couldn’t actually judge. Not with the fact that he was pretty close to not graduating himself. He had a pretty good reason, but still.

The auditorium door closed loudly behind him, making him jump and clench his jaw painfully.

“Door’s broken. You gotta hold it while it closes so it doesn’t slam,” a voice said from the door to the backstage area.

Steve squinted through the semi-darkness and felt his stomach turn. Eddie.

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had to open it. Figured they would have fixed it by now,” Steve replied, walking closer to the guy he needed to talk to.

“No shit! Is that King Steve? In the flesh?” Eddie’s dramatics were endearing, even if it was slightly annoying that he pulled out the stupid high school nickname he’d lost well before he graduated.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. This wasn’t gonna go well.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of your precious kiddos have made it yet. It’s still early.”

Steve nodded. “One of them’s sitting in my car in the parking lot. Um, Henderson? He’s an incoming freshman.”

“Ah. Dustin’s got a place in Hellfire if you’re worried. I don’t turn anyone away who wants to be here.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Steve needed to just spit it out. “He said you’re like, great at storytelling or whatever. Like you’re the best DM he’s ever seen and he knows I could use those skills for something.”

“Oh? What could Steve Harrington need DM skills for?”

“My daughter.”

The silence following his confession was louder than the door slamming only a minute ago.

He probably could’ve revealed his motives a little better, work up to the fact that he even had a daughter maybe. Very few people actually knew, and he had to keep it that way until he could leave his parent’s house.

“Your…daughter.”

“Yes. She’s just turned one and the doctors said reading to her is like, super important for learning words and helping her learn how to have an imagination and stuff. And I do read to her!” Steve suddenly felt worried that Eddie would think he was a bad parent. “I try to. But I’m, well, Nancy says it’s dyslexia? So words are kinda hard and it gives me a headache if I try to read for more than a few minutes and I’m so busy focusing on the words I don’t think I’m making it very fun for her-“

“Woah. Steve. Slow down.” Eddie braced his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Does anyone know you have a daughter?”

“The kids do, yeah. My parents do because they kinda helped cover it all up and made sure I still graduated so I didn’t embarrass them or whatever.” Steve looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really want to go through the whole thing with this guy. “Robin Buckley knows? She’s my best friend. The Byers and Wheelers, Hopper. Some teachers know but were sworn to secrecy.”

“Huh.”

Steve looked up to see Eddie stepping closer to him, soft smile on his face.

“So what do you need me for exactly?”

“Dustin said you’re really good at telling stories and I figured maybe you would be willing to read to her? Not every day, like I can work with your schedule or whatever. Evening would be best for me, but it’s not really a big deal if it has to be other times. She comes to work with me so if it had to be during the day, you could sit in the office or something, I dunno.” Steve shrugged. He hated asking for help. But Dustin insisted Eddie was actually a good guy and would keep his secret. No one who saw her at work assumed Steve Harrington was a single parent at 18. That would just be absurd. “I just don’t want her to miss out.”

Eddie’s hand drifted down his arm, holding his hand for a moment before he stepped back.

“My schedule is kinda random. But I’m sure we can work something out.”

Steve’s shoulders fell as his body relaxed. “Yeah? I can pay you. Not much. My parents mostly cut me off.” Steve was scrambling. “I can give you gas money and stuff for having to come to us. And like, food? I can cook.”

Eddie’s eyes were intense, watching his every move, making him nervous.

“How ‘bout a free trial? I’ll do it for a couple weeks and then we can see about payment.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Cool.” Jesus, he was embarrassing. What happened to his charm? “Would you be able to start soon?”

“Normally, I’d say I can come by after Hellfire, but I have an…appointment right after tonight. I can come by tomorrow?”

Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s good. I work until five.”

“I can be at your house by seven.”

“Great! I have plenty of books. Right now, she’s really into Old Macdonald, but I think it’s just because it sorta sounds like her name and we get to make silly noises,” Steve smiled to himself, not seeing the way Eddie was smiling too. “I think she’ll probably like whatever you read to her, though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mackenzie. Robin read it in a book and said it meant fire-born or something? It sounded cool. We call her Mac or Kenzie for short so she hears Macdonald and thinks we’re giving her another nickname,” Steve laughed. “Anyway, I better get back to the car. If she’s awake and Dustin has to deal with her crying for too long, he gets an attitude.”

“Mackenzie. I like it.” Eddie nodded once. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

Steve agreed and waved, turning around to leave. By the time he realized Eddie’s nickname for him, Eddie was already backstage.

****

Steve was nervous.

He nearly burnt the chicken he was cooking for dinner just from getting distracted by thoughts of Eddie being in his home.

He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that he’d always thought Eddie was kinda rough around the edges and was surprised he’d agreed so easily. Maybe it was bringing someone new into the small group he’d had around for a couple years. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s hand on his shoulder seemed to leave a permanent mark despite being one of the softest touches he’d felt from another adult in a while.

Mackenzie was in her high chair already, eating some of the noodles he’d made as a side. She’d been practicing using a fork, so quite a few had fallen on the floor, but Steve still smiled and told her she did a great job any time she managed to get one to her mouth.

The doorbell rang and Steve felt his heart stop.

“Daddy!” Mackenzie squealed when the bell rang. She knew that usually meant Hopper was here. Everyone else just came inside on their own. “Hop!”

“No, baby, not Hop. Not tonight. It’s my friend, Eddie. He’s gonna tell you a fun story, okay?” Steve ran his hands through her hair as he walked by to get the door.

When he opened the door, Eddie was standing there with a handful of books, a box of crayons, and what looked like a hairbow.

“I’m here to entertain the princess!” Eddie exclaimed. “Lead me to her highness!”

Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face if he wanted to. “She’s currently trying to stab noodles to death. I’m sure you’ll be entertained.”

“Ah, they must have wronged her. I’ll assist,” Eddie made his way past Steve, walking towards the kitchen.

Steve knew he’d been to a couple of the parties he threw to sell, but had no idea he remembered the layout of his house. Maybe he had one of those picture minds.

As Steve entered the kitchen, he noticed that Eddie had set down the pile of books on the counter before he sat down in front of Mackenzie.

There were a few books he recognized: an ABC book that he was pretty sure he’d had when he was a kid but had since lost, a book of fairy tales with Rapunzel on the cover, something by Beatrix Potter, and a couple of coloring books that featured princesses and dragons and horses.

“She isn’t really old enough to color, is she?” Steve asked, interrupting what must have been a very amusing conversation of mostly babbling. “I don’t have any coloring stuff.”

“Coloring with skill? No. She definitely doesn’t have the motor skills to color in the lines or even use the right colors for the right things. But it does help her learn how to hold a crayon. My uncle couldn’t really afford much when I was a baby, so for every Christmas until I was in school he would get me new crayons and coloring books. I don’t really remember how I did, but I do remember having fun.” Eddie turned back to Mackenzie. “And sometimes it’s fun to just make a mess, right?”

Mackenzie clapped her hands together, sending the toddler fork she’d been using to the floor with a noodle attached to it. Steve wordlessly grabbed one of her spoons from the drawer and gave it to her, kissing the top of her head before he knelt down to pick up the fork.

Eddie watched silently, something soft about the way he didn’t interrupt anything even though he could’ve kept talking.

“I made chicken and pasta. It’s probably not my best work, but I made enough for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” Steve offered as he walked to the stove to start plating the food for himself.

“I wouldn’t turn it down. Wayne’s not exactly known for serving five star meals,” Eddie joked. “He believes in the power of fried bologna and cheese sandwiches with a bag of chips.”

Steve grimaced. “Okay, well I made enough for you to bring home some leftovers too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re taking home leftovers.”

Steve turned to see Eddie’s widened eyes and open mouth that slowly formed into a smile.

“I guess I’m taking home some leftovers.” He turned to Mackenzie and tickled her neck. “Your daddy is pushy isn’t he?”

Steve blushed, but continued making up a plate for Eddie.

As they sat and ate, Eddie talked about all of his favorite books for little kids, and how he remembered sneaking into the library after school for years because he knew he didn’t wanna go home. He talked about the first time a teacher wrote a positive letter home, an English teacher who said his fictional essay was the best in the class and he should consider writing as a career. He even talked about his plans for the school year campaigns, but made Steve swear not to mention anything to the kids.

“I’ll know if you tell them,” Eddie winked.

Steve believed him.

When they were done, Steve grabbed Mackenzie from her chair.

“I’m gonna give her a quick bath if you wanna bring all that stuff to her room. Second floor, third door on the right. It’s a little messy right now. Someone decided to pull all her toys from her box yesterday and I haven’t had time to clean it up,” Steve tickled Mackenzie’s side, making her giggle and turn her head into his shoulder.

“You need me to clean this up?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the table.

“Nah, I’ll do it while you read to her.”

Despite his efforts, bath time was never truly quick. Mackenzie loved to splash around and play with her toys, and if he tried to wash her hair too quickly, she would be grumpy for the rest of the night. He definitely didn’t want that for Eddie.

He set a timer for 10 minutes and tried to explain to a very excited Mackenzie that when the timer went off, it would be time to wash her hair and get out.

“You wanna have time to play with Eddie, so we can’t play for too long in the water.”

She didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, already too busy making her rubber duck fight with her mermaid Barbie.

He observed while she played, bringing in the rubber car she liked to pretend to drive on the side of the tub.

When the timer went off, she let him wash her hair without a fuss, and he quickly wrapped her up in a towel to get her into pajamas.

Eddie was waiting in her room when he got there, coloring books spread out on the floor. He smiled up at them from where he sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap.

“Squeaky clean?” He asked, waving at Mackenzie.

“Definitely lacking noodles in places noodles shouldn’t be at least,” Steve said, making his way to her changing table to get her dressed. “She must be pretty excited about you being here. Usually bath time takes at least 30 minutes and I have to bribe her with chocolate milk to get out.”

“She knows we’re gonna have a lot of fun. I think I’m gonna read Goodnight Moon first. That’s one of my favorites.”

“She’ll love that,” he said as he buttoned the snaps of her onesie.

As soon as he set her on the floor next to Eddie, she reached for a coloring book with a mermaid on it.

“Daddy! Muh!”

“Yeah, baby, it’s a mermaid! Just like your doll in the bath.” Steve pointed to the fish next to the mermaid. “And that’s a fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him while he pointed to some other sea creatures and told Mackenzie what they were.

Eventually, he looked over at Eddie, blushing at the soft smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re a really good dad, Steve.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Steve felt heat flood his body.

It’s not that no one had ever said that to him. Robin had told him plenty of times, Joyce had whispered it to him when no one else was paying attention, even Hopper had given him a handshake and said he was doing a good job once. But hearing it from Eddie, in this situation, when he’d been feeling like such a failure lately, was enough to make him want to cry.

He had to get out of this room.

“I should go clean up and leave you to it.”

“Sure, yeah. We’ll be right here.”

Steve booked it out of the room, rushing down the stairs to try to get busy with cleaning before his brain settled on crying over a compliment.

But the table was cleared. The high chair was wiped down. When he turned to the sink, the dishes were stacked up to dry in the rack. The counters were wiped, the dish towel had been put back on the handle of the oven to dry, and leftovers had been put in a container to finish cooling down.

Steve let the tears fall.

Fuck it, if Eddie was going to be this nice, he could have a little cry.

He walked quietly to the bathroom to put all the bath toys in the basket, but stopped outside Mackenzie’s bedroom when he heard giggling.

He’d closed the door halfway, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted if he walked by the room, but he couldn’t help looking in.

He felt like crying again when he saw Mackenzie sitting on Eddie’s lap, pointing at something in the book.

“Where’s the moon?” Eddie asked.

“Moo!” Mackenzie said, smacking at a place in the book.

“There’s the moon! Good job, little one.” Mackenzie leaned back against Eddie’s chest. “And where’s the…toys?”

She pointed again, but slightly less enthusiastically. Steve could see her energy dropping quickly.

He watched as Eddie told her she did a good job again and then continued reading.

Her eyes drooped more with every page. Eddie’s voice got closer to a whisper with every sentence.

Steve fell just a little bit more with every second that passed.

*****

October 1985

Eddie came every day. Despite the fact that Steve insisted he didn’t need to, that he didn’t want to ruin his schedule, Eddie showed up like clockwork at seven every single evening.

Steve learned to expect him, always made enough dinner for all of them to enjoy before Mackenzie had her bath and then got to read with Steve.

Every night, Eddie would clean up while she took a bath, and every night, he’d let her pick a page to color while he read something to her, switching to a bedtime story when she started crawling into his lap.

Steve would watch them often, laying down on the carpet and smiling as he listened to Eddie use different voices for characters, asking her questions so she was involved, and whispering when she started to drift off.

Other times, he’d try to get something done he’d been putting off, like cleaning the bathroom or folding laundry.

Eddie never accepted payment.

Steve tried bringing it up once school started, certain that this time spent here could’ve been better spent on homework or a part-time job that paid better than what Steve could offer. Eddie just shook his head and insisted that other than Hellfire every Thursday, he would be there for free.

They got to know each other over dinner, and Steve found that he was right to have butterflies every time Eddie smiled at him, every time he would touch his hand as he walked by to say hi to Mackenzie.

“Halloween costume ideas?” Eddie asked with his mouth full. Steve had given up long ago on trying to get him to wait until he was done chewing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “What did this little miss go as last year?”

“Oh. She was a bumblebee.” Steve smiled at the memory. “Cutest costume I saw all night.”

“I bet.” Eddie took a sip of his water. “And you?”

“Oh, I didn’t dress up.”

“What? Why not?” Eddie sounded genuinely upset.

“Just got away from me, I guess? By the time I thought about it, nothing good was left at the store,” Steve shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been that into Halloween. His focus was making sure Mackenzie had fun.

“And no one offered to help you make something?” Eddie was no longer eating and Mackenzie had turned her attention to him when his tone became serious.

“I didn’t ask.”

“But no one offered.” Eddie stood up and walked over to his backpack. “Okay, we’ve gotta plan. Did you already pick something for her?”

He came back holding a notebook and a pencil, brows set in a straight line. Steve had never seen him look so serious.

“I had a few ideas, but I wanted to let her pick something at the store,” Steve said.

“Lay them on me.”

They discussed costumes for the next 30 minutes, but after only 10, Mackenzie whined to get out of her chair. Eddie wordlessly stood up and picked her up, setting her in his lap and letting her poke and prod at him and his notebook.

Steve watched them both, accepting for the first time that this wasn’t just a crush that was gonna go away.

He’d fallen completely head over heels for Eddie, and he had no clue what to do about it.

*****

November 1985

Steve was the only one who had space to host Thanksgiving.

He became manic a week before, realizing that his work schedule would not allow him to have much time to clean unless he did it at night. The problem was that he would get a migraine if he didn’t sleep.

“So let’s work on it together. I can come right after school. Cancel Hellfire this week,” Eddie offered.

“But you already won’t have it next week because of Thanksgiving. I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. If I’m gonna be eating here, I should probably help clean up at least.”

So they worked on a little at a time.

Eddie wasn’t always helpful, getting distracted by some of the smallest things. But his company was appreciated all the same.

“You could invite Wayne, ya know,” Steve offered while he dusted the shelves in the living room. “Plenty of room and food.”

“Thanks, but he always works Thanksgiving day for the double pay. We usually do something the day after,” Eddie answered while he cleaned up all of Mackenzie’s toys.

“If he decides not to work, just let him know.”

“Will do, Stevie.”

He didn’t just help clean, he helped him do the shopping, too.

“I know it’s way harder with a baby, so if you give me a list, I can handle the shopping,” Eddie said while Steve plated their dinners.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. But I can and will.” Eddie’s hand brushed against Steve’s lower back. “Let me help.”

Steve could barely resist the shiver that took over his entire body.

“Okay. Sure.”

Some of the brands were wrong, and he forgot the apples for the apple pie, but Steve still felt immense relief knowing that he had someone to help.

And without it, Thanksgiving would’ve been a disaster.

It was still a bit of a mess, but that was mostly because the kid’s table turned into a food fight that Max started and Mackenzie, of course, continued, until everyone was involved.

But the picture Jonathan took would get framed and hang up near the fireplace in the living room anyway.

******

December 1985

“I cannot believe you waited until Christmas Eve to wrap gifts. That’s not what parents actually do, is it?” Eddie asked as he fought with the tape dispenser for the fifth time in less than an hour.

“I don’t know if I’m the best judge of what parents do. Mine weren’t around much and probably didn’t even wrap my gifts themselves.” Steve took the tape from him, pulled some loose from the roll, and handed it back. “But I kinda always pictured it like this.”

Robin made him swear he’d talk to Eddie about his feelings before the end of the year. The end of the year was soon, real soon.

What better shot did he have than while Mackenzie was asleep and they were wrapping presents together?

“You pictured last minute wrapping with bribed help in your living room?” Eddie asked, amusement in his tone.

“Not exactly,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “More like spoiling my kid with someone I care about.”

Steve watched Eddie’s hands freeze against the clothes box full of new finger puppets they’d both gotten her. He looked over and felt his stomach swoop as Eddie’s eyes found his.

“Stevie-” Eddie set the box down and turned to face Steve.

“Wait, I just. Before you break my heart, hear me out.” Steve already felt his world shrinking, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the thought of losing Eddie entirely. “I’ve spent a lot of time with you for months. Like, more than almost anyone else. I’ve watched you with Kenzie, and how much she loves you and always asks for ‘Ed’ even when it’s way before when you’re gonna be here. You make me smile and laugh and that’s not always easy to do these days. You helped me when you didn’t have to, when you had absolutely no reason to trust that King Steve was a better person. You’re there for all the other kids even though you’re trying to get through school for real this time. I didn’t really plan a big speech, sorry. This is just rambling, I’m doing what Robin does.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie placed his hand on the side of Steve’s neck. “I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“I think so.” Eddie stepped in closer. “But I think you might just be lonely.”

It stung. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it still hurt to think Eddie thought so little of him.

“I think I know how I feel.”

Eddie’s hand dropped from his neck and he took a step back. “I don’t wanna argue, Stevie. I just think you might need to separate yourself from the situation. I’m just always around, ya know?”

“You’re always around because I want you around!” Steve was just a bit too loud, but he knew Mackenzie was a heavy sleeper. “When you aren’t here, I check the clock to know when you will be. I get excited to leave work now because I’m not coming home to do the same thing I always did before. I get to see you and hear about your day and talk to you about mine and see you with my daughter, who probably loves you as much as I do.”

“You…love me?”

“Yes. I do. And I promise it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I still want you here, reading to Kenzie. But I know how I feel. I know why I feel the way I do. You can’t tell me how to feel.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” Eddie sighed. “I’m just kinda surprised. Didn’t expect you to be into guys, let alone me. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material. Or stepparent material, either.”

“Oh, fuck that. You’re more her other parent than her mom ever was. She gave her to me the moment she had her and wished me luck before her entire family moved across the country.” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “I trust you. I want you around. I love you.”

Eddie swallowed, eyes pointed towards the carpet.

A minute passed, two. It was rapidly approaching awkward when finally Eddie spoke.

“But I’m so bad at wrapping presents.”

Steve snorted, but felt relief wash over him. “I can do the wrapping. This Christmas, next Christmas, as many Christmases as you’ll stay.”

“All of them?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve leaned in slowly, let his hands grasp at the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer. “How many Christmases do kids usually believe in Santa?”

“I dunno. I stopped believing when I caught my dad stealing the two presents under our tree when I was four.” Eddie let his hands fall to Steve’s hips. “But something tells me the little princess will be a believer for a while. Better get used to me ripping holes in the paper and using too much tape.”

“Think I can handle it.”

Every time Steve had pictured kissing Eddie before this, he’d thought it would be like any other first kiss, maybe a little awkward since it was his first with a guy.

Instead, it was soft, sweet, slow, perfect. He’d kissed a lot of girls in high school, had kissed them well. Not all of them were great, but even a less than good kiss was still decent.

This was more than any other kiss he’d ever had.

Eddie held him like he would never let go, like this kiss would last forever.

It couldn’t, but that’s how it felt.

When they finally pulled apart, Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You wanna stay tonight? We can both do the Santa gifts with Kenzie before all the kids bother us,” Steve asked.

“I should call Wayne. I told him I’d be home by midnight.”

“He can come over in the morning, too,” Steve said. “If you want.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for Wayne? He can be a little…gruff.”

“I’m not worried,” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Hopper’s basically my dad. Plus, Mac’s got a way of breaking the tough old men down.”

“Bets?”

Steve pulled away and started wrapping another present before he got too distracted. “I give it ten minutes.”

“Oh, how generous. I’m giving it five.”

They both laughed as Eddie decided he’d be more help putting already wrapped presents in her stocking and under the tree and making sure everything was put away when Steve was done.

And for the first time, Eddie stayed the night, holding Steve against his chest while they slept.

They both cried when Mackenzie opened her presents excitedly. She was too little to do it herself last year, so seeing her tear through the paper and find joy in throwing it around the room was like a dream come true for Steve.

Eddie admitted he felt like he was intruding for some of it, but Steve quickly reminded him that he was the first person she toddled over to with her new set of princess books and said “Ed, read.”

She sat in his lap right then, even though she still had quite a few presents to open, and he read every single book to her, making her giggle with his high-pitched voices for the princesses and silly accent for the prince.

By the time the kids were coming through the front door, Steve was rushing to shush them, pointing at the couch where Eddie was passed out with Mackenzie curled up against his side.

Steve was never happier than in this moment.

Until the next one, and the one after that.

[multistanisms]

Save a Horse || Ateez

FANDOM: Ateez

PAIRING: Hongjoong x fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5407

RATING: M

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS: Biting, degradation [honestly, I'm not sure, so if anyone finds one, please let me know?]

SUMMARY: The staff of KQ know full well about the nonhumans who have taken the world by storm with their music. The last to reveal their nature is Hongjoong, a demon-siren hybrid. Despite staff worrying for his girlfriend, what only the members know is that the little witch is a delight that's not afraid of Hongjoong's darkness.

TAGLIST: @daceydeath, @justaaveragereader, @no1likemybbgcharlie, @spookidema

AUTHOR NOTES: Y'all please be nice, I haven't written smut in literal years. I saw the outfit Joong wears in this fic when I got to see Ateez back in July, and it has just sat and rotted my brain to mush, so here we are. Not beta'd this time around, but I did reread three times to try and catch everything. Much thanks to Dacey and Syd especially, because sometimes my depresso bean self needs some encouragement to share my weird joys. Enjoy, my dearies. <3

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One of the perks of your audio production degree was a free seat at the mixing booth during shows when you don't want to stay at the hotel waiting on Hongjoong to get back. Tonight was one such night, but the staff kept looking at you in a way that confused you. While the other members had been open with the company about their races from debut - from Seonghwa’s selkie blood to San’s Cheshire form, Hongjoong had only recently revealed to staff that despite masquerading as a regular human, his heritage ran closer to the other members of Ateez - as he was a demon/siren hybrid. Perhaps they were concerned for you, though they were unaware you yourself were a witch. Sitting at the booth as you watched the crowd pour in from the rain outside, you pulled your phone out to text your boyfriend. 

⇐: Hey gorgeous. How's it going?

My Captain: There's my beautiful girl. We were just talking about you.

⇐: Who's we, Joong?

My Captain: Hwa, Mingi and I. I was asking for opinions on what I should wear during the last set.

⇐: And you didn't ask me? 

My Captain: I want it to be a surprise, precious. It is our anniversary, after all.

The text stops you and you have to swipe down to check the date. Sure enough, it's the one year date since Hongjoong asked you to officially be his mate. Neither of you counted the two years of fuck buddy/situationship before that.

⇐: It really doesn't feel like it's already been a year already, holy shit. I didn't get you anything, baby. 😭

My Captain: Don't worry, after the flight to the next city, we have two days before we even have to do anything big. I'm sure we'll think of something.

⇐: How about we start with me making dinner?

My Captain: The show lets out late, beautiful. We have to do the send off tonight, which takes longer. But don't worry, I've got it handled.

⇐: Should I be concerned?

My Captain: Hardly. Just have fun. I'll listen for your screams in the crowd. 😉

⇐: Like you'll hear me with the sold out stadium of Atiny, baby. The seats are already almost full.

My Captain: Come now, you think I can't find your voice even with a full house? I know it so well, after all.

The blush that heated from your neck up into your face made you lower your head. You waved a hand dismissively when one of the nearby staff asked if you were okay, diverting by asking for some water. Once the member had wandered off, you took a breath to settle yourself before responding.

⇐: You have a show, Hongjoong. Focus on that instead of my screaming, yeah?

My Captain: Oh, I know there’s a show. Don’t worry, I’ll get the screams later. 😚

Your eyes roll at his antics, slipping your phone back into your jacket pocket and settling into the rolling chair as you move to watch the stage and willing the blush on her face to fade. The show is always a work of art, the energy Hongjoong and his team gave never failing to amaze you; though with none of them being human, it makes sense their energy is slow to fade. You loved watching the group perform, but sometimes it was hard not to focus on just Hongjoong. You enjoyed the concert in its entirety, but as the boys came back for the final encore set, you couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as you saw the outfit your boyfriend was wearing. Dark blue jeans clad his legs, covering the black boots he wore. His shirt was a black button up that hugged against his body, perfectly showing off his torso while simultaneously still leaving room for the imagination - though you didn't need to use it. The bolo tie was a good accent of silver against the shirt, but the obvious piece de resistance was the dark colored leather cowboy hat he wore atop his head. The sight alone stole your breath, unable to even glance at any of the other members for the duration of the encore. “You fucking menace.” Your tone is a quiet, breathy growl as the boys all line up on the lift to be dropped down and you move to stand, bidding the staff goodnight and making your way to the dressing rooms. 

Hongjoong is still wearing the hat as he laughs with Wooyoung and Mingi, but the moment he lays his eyes on you and all out smirks, you know he chose the outfit on purpose. He steps to one side so he can pull you to him, dipping his head to kiss you while his hands slid to rest at the small of your back. He's extra warm from performing, but you settle into him with ease. “There's my girl.” he teased when he pulled away, smiling down at you.

“What are you trying to do in this, huh? Drive me absolutely insane?”

“Partly. I do have a few better ideas, though.” He grinned, one hand moving to tuck his fingers under your chin and bring your lips back to his. “But those have to wait until we're back at the hotel.” He laughs quietly when your response is a quiet whine as you pout. “Don't worry, baby. All that's left is send off, you don't have to wait much longer.”

“But you look so good.” you counter, arms moving from his waist to snake at his neck and let your fingers play with the hair at the back of his head. 

“I know, Y/N. Tell you what. You take my card, get us something for dinner and I'll meet you at the hotel, okay? I'll come straight to you as soon as we're done.”

“Promise?”

“Swear it.” Hongjoong replies, stealing another kiss. 

“Fine.” You reluctantly pull away, immediately missing his warmth as he enters the dressing room. As the door closes, you catch the familiar sound of San’s naturally pouty voice as he teased his leader. You laugh a little, aware of the muffled noises inside as you lean against the wall by the door to wait. The chatter inside bursts louder as Hongjoong reappears, hat no longer resting atop his head. “Awh, where'd my cowboy go?” You tease as your lips pout playfully, which grants you another kiss. 

“Don't worry, baby girl, I'm still your cowboy,” he assures, hand slipping his card into the back pocket of your jeans. “And only your cowboy.” He laughs as you hide your face in your hands at the growl in his voice, his own coming to wrap at your wrists and gently urge them away from their position as he changes to a softer, playful tone. “Come now, don't hide from me, Y/N. You know I love it when you blush for me.” 

“Oh hush, you. You shouldn’t be fucking growling at me in public when you look like this.” You huff playfully, but you're powerless to the soft tone he uses, looking up at him just so you can see him smile at you as if you'd hung the moon itself. “Just come home quick, yeah?”

“As soon as I can slip away, I will be there.” 

You go to step back so you can leave, but as he opens the door to leave you, you reach for his wrist, tugging him back to you to steal one last kiss, smirking as you nip your teeth over his lower lip and he groans loudly. His eyes flash crimson, and you know you’ve tempted him in return. Satisfied you've returned the favor when he's already tempted you, you ruffle your fingers through his hair and quickly step out of reach. “I love you.” You laugh as you slip out of view. You can just barely catch the familiar ring of his darker laughter, knowing that you were in for at least a little bit of trouble when he got back to the hotel. It was worth it, though, seeing as he'd sauntered around on stage in the outfit just to rile you up. 

All’s fair in love and war, right? 

You pass through familiar faces of staff, congratulating them as you find your way out to the underground garage where your rental is parked near the bus. Traffic is still going to be a mess, but not as insane with the show having a send off, so you have time to think of what to get for dinner. You settle on fried chicken, looking up the nearest place that serves it because you don't think you have time to finish cooking before your boyfriend joins you. Once you find a place, you order food for the two of you and head towards the restaurant. As you pull into the shopping center and get out, you spot another shop nearby that catches your eye, and you go there first before grabbing dinner and stopping to get some ice cream for dessert. The drive from the shopping center to the hotel isn't long, thankfully, and you find yourself sliding the key card through the door in no time at all compared to leaving the arena. The company always makes sure there's decent accommodations for everyone, and you set the bag of food in the kitchenette counter so you can put the ice cream away. You then go to change into more comfortable clothes - a pair of pajama pants and a tank top you'd stolen from Hongjoong (who had purposely gotten it too big so you would steal it). You turned your little speaker on to play music, going about moving the desk chairs closer together and setting out the boxes of food. You're singing as you go about the process, lost in the sheer domestication, and don't register the sound of the door unlocking. Hongjoong’s voice harmonizing with your own as his arms wrap around you from behind startles you from your mind and you laugh a little. “Hey there, gorgeous.” You greet, adjusting so you can tilt your head back and let him kiss you. “How was send off?”

“It was fun, but honestly, I was also a little out of it.” Hongjoong admitted. “I’m pretty sure I missed interacting with a few fans.”

“I'm sure they'll forgive you.” You playfully banter back. “You deserved to be distracted after what you did to me.”

“Oh, I plan on doing a lot more than distracting you, princess.” Hongjoong's voice pitches into a growl, head dipping to bite at where your pulse beats just under your jaw. He holds you securely even as your legs threaten to give out. 

“Fuck, Joong.” You breathe, one hand moving to slide into his hair. You can feel the laugh even as he continues to bite and suck at your skin, intent on making sure a possessive mark is left behind when he's done. 

“I know all your sweet spots after three years, baby. You should have known I'd use them after that tease.” The smirk in his voice is evident as one hand snakes lower so he can slip it beneath the fabric of your pajama pants, but stops just beneath the hem to simply brush his fingers over your hip gently.

“Kim Hongjoong, we've been over this. It isn't a tease if you have every intention of following through.” Your words are breathless even as you correct him, barely keeping yourself up because true to his word, Hongjoong knows every spot that drives you wild. “And if you thought for a moment I wouldn't follow through when you look this delicious, well, that's just sad.” You're very aware of the heat pooling in your body, turning into putty with every touch and kiss Hongjoong places on your body. 

“Did you think I wouldn't follow through?” He smirks, stepping away to pull you towards the bed. “Did it not occur to you that I picked this exact outfit specifically for you?”

“Oh yeah, just for me? Why, so I could jump your bones, handsome?” You tease back, your voice shaky from desire as he brings you to the bed. 

“Maybe. Would that make it better, princess?” Hongjoong cooed, moving to make you sit on the foot of the bed so he can settle on his knees between your legs. Dark eyes looked up at you, the sheer lustful adoration in them making you bite your lip and moan. 

“How are you so fucking gorgeous on your knees? It's not fair.” You pout, moving to tilt the hat back so you can see his face better. He smirks up at you, reaching up to remove the hat and set it aside, hands moving to the waistband of your pants to tug them down, his eyes watching you as you adjust to help him remove the fabric easier. When his eyes lower, he groans, eyes closing briefly. 

“What are these?” He coos breathily, fingers trailing up your thighs to tease over the navy colored lace of the underwear you have on. 

“I figured since I didn't have a gift, I could find something else to give you.” Your voice is smug even as he brushes his thumb over the fabric covering your core, biting your lip. “Happened to find a shop that was still open and I know how much you like me in lace.”

“I do love you in lace, baby, but you've never made a special trip like this just for me.”

You pout at his response despite the desire burning through your veins. “Do you not-”

“I love it, princess, please don't doubt that. You're fucking spoiling me with this. I couldn't ask for a more perfect anniversary gift. I simply can't decide if I want to ruin these panties while you're wearing them or take them off and just devour you.” One hand is pressed at the crotch of his jeans where his length is already visible through the denim, and you almost feel sorry for his indecision. Almost. 

He started it by wearing the damn cowboy outfit he's in, after all.

“Would seeing the set help you decide?” you ask, and the feral heat in his eyes as they swirl crimson in desire when he looks up at you makes you giggle, crossing your arms over your body to grab the hem of the shirt and pull it off, revealing the matching lace bra underneath the tank top. There's a pride that swells when he moans loudly at the sight of you in nothing but the lingerie set. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he lurches up at you, sealing his lips over yours as his hands move to cup at your chest, massaging your breasts as he moans into your mouth. You can't help but laugh out a soft moan as he trails his lips further down your neck, leaving open mouth kisses and a faint touch of saliva on your skin. “So beautiful, so soft…can't believe you're really mine.”

One hand moves to play in his hair, gripping at the brown tresses gently. “I'm only yours, Joong, my delicious cowboy. You claimed me a long time ago.” You shiver as his laugh vibrates through you, his hands moving to unclasp the bra before nudging at you to lay down so he can hover over you, your arms above your head as you look at each other longingly. “Our food will get cold, baby.”

“There's only one thing I'm hungry for right now.” Hongjoong breathes, holding himself up with one hand as he dips his head, taking one nipple in his mouth while his fingers scratch gently and pinch at the other. The ministration makes your back arch, one hand returning to his hair to tug at the strands. It earns you a pretty little moan, Hongjoong switching his mouth to the opposite nipple. Teeth graze over the sensitive bud and you gasp, hips bucking up suddenly and letting you feel just how hard your boyfriend already is for you. Hongjoong laughs, pulling away to kiss you. “I love how responsive you are to my mouth, princess.”

“I'm responsive to you, Hongjoong, not just your mouth.” You manage to breathe back, tongue wetting your lips when he pulls away. 

“Well, I plan on using my mouth thoroughly first.” Hongjoong grins down at you, starting to trail bites and kisses down your body. When he gets low enough, his teeth clasp onto the fabric of the panties and tug. Unable to help yourself you prop up on your elbows to watch him, hips lifting just enough to aid his task. His eyes stay locked on you as he works the fabric down. Once it's low enough, he uses his hands to finish removing it, kissing up the inside of your thigh. “Mhmm, how many times should I drive you over that edge, hmm? My precious girl.”

You can't help but reach out to card your hand through his hair again, licking your lips. “As long as I get a chance to reciprocate in between. It's not just about me, baby.” 

“I could get off just listening to your noises, Y/N. You know that.”

“Mm, but I like getting you off in other ways.” You fire back. “My cowboy needs some physical touch, too.” You're more than aware of the shiver than runs through his body, picking up the hat to put it back on his head. “Let me ride you like a good girl, yeah? What is it they say? Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” The words seem to break his will to debate, arms wrapping around your thighs and tugging you towards his face.

“Let me taste you first. I want you to fall apart on my tongue before you go on your ride. Be a good girl and speak up for me.” He doesn't give you a chance to respond, mouth enveloping your folds and swirling his tongue around your clit. Having him between your legs like this is nothing new, he loves getting to please you in this way, but the hat sits just so that he can look up at you and yet you couldn't see him, which somehow added to your arousal. One hand moves up to lace his fingers through yours, squeezing your hand as he moans. The sound vibrates into your body, making you wetter as your eyes close and you moan in return.

“Fuck, Joong, baby,” you know you can't last long after the build up, and it doesn't bother Hongjoong at all, he sucks harder at your clit, sliding two fingers between your folds as he continues. The sensations are too much and not enough, your body unable to decide if it wants to pull away or press closer. Hongjoong obviously senses it, adjusting so he's hovering better over your core, slowly adding a third finger before scissoring them. Your back comes off the bed as you cry out, eyes closing as you grip at the sheets and your head slams back onto the bed. You're right on the edge, feeling your body quake from how tight the coil of your pleasure is. “Joong, mm, Hongjoong, fuck, don't stop, please baby, don't stop.” It’s obvious he has every intention of having you hit that first orgasm quickly, his mouth sucking harder as his hand speeds up at your pleas. It doesn't take much longer before your legs fight against his hold, your release spilling on his fingers and tongue while you half scream his name. He doesn't stop though, making sure you ride out the high as he takes every bit you give him, moaning like he's just had his favorite meal. When you whine, he pulls away, knowing it means you've become too sensitive.

“Did your cowboy do good?”

“So good.” You pant, watching him with half-lidded eyes. “But it's my turn now, Joong.” He smirks up at you, moving onto the bed so he can kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue over your lower lip to ask for entrance. You open your mouth eagerly, letting him make you taste yourself as you moan into the kiss, pulling at his shirt to hold him close. His hands lift to start unbuttoning his shirt but you smack at his hand. “No.” you whine. “Let me taste you while you're still like this, please? You can take it off when you fuck me, I just want to see you fall apart like this.” You beg, fingers already working open his jeans as you start to slide off the bed and try to tug him over. His hands catch your wrists, however, a stern command escaping his lips as your knees touch the floor. 

“No, baby girl, get up from there.”

“But-”

“Y/N, I didn’t say no. I just don’t want you on the hotel floor like a common whore.”

“But I’m your whore, Captain.” you counter, grinning when the name makes his gaze darken. “I don’t mind being on my knees for you like a good girl.”

“Princess, we’ve already been over this.” His grip at your wrists tightens and he tugs you up to standing, getting off the bed himself to look down at you from your height difference. He leans in, swiping his tongue up your neck and grazing his teeth over your pulse before growling quietly in your ear, the sound alone making you shiver. “You may be my whore, but you will not sully yourself on the floor of hotel rooms. So if you’re so intent on sliding my cock down that pretty little throat of yours,” he pauses to dip his head to the other side, biting hard at where your neck and shoulder meet, smirking at the moan you make and the way your body quivers before he lifts his lips to your ear again. “Get your ass back on the bed like a good girl.” 

The obedience is immediate, you crawling onto the bed the moment he releases the hold on your wrists, tongue wetting your lips as you wait patiently for him to join you. You sit back with your legs tucked underneath, hands clenching as you lower your gaze for a moment. When he moves to join you on the bed, he slides his jeans down just enough to reveal the boxers underneath, leaving the clothing on per your request as he settles on the bed and leans back against the headboard. You can feel his gaze on you, a shiver of pleasure down your spine as he hums appreciatively at your nude form before opening his arms. 

“Come here, darling girl. Let me kiss you.”

You move closer to him, scooting up the bed and letting him guide you between his legs so he can lean into him, sealing your lips together. You moan as his fingers wind their way into your hair, his nails becoming claws to faintly scratch over your scalp. This kiss is heated, Hongjoong dominating the contact with ease as he holds you to him. Your hands move lower, fingers brushing over the outline of his cock through the boxers he wears. “Please, Joong,” you beg between kisses, voice little more than a whine. “My Captain, my soulmate, please.”

Hongjoong hums, the sound vibrating in his chest as he swipes his tongue over your lips again. “What is it, my precious? What do you want from Captain, hmm?” He’s mocking you, and you know it, but it’s so undeniably sexy because he saves the sexual torment specifically for you. “Use your words, be a good girl for me, yeah?”

One hand moves shamelessly over his erection, whining helplessly as you press just faintly against the bulge. “Let me taste you, please. I need it.”

“Mm, look at you, begging so pretty for me.” he smirks as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you’re very aware of the way he’s completely dropped his human facade, fangs catching your skin as he tugs your lip teasingly. “So good and obedient. I haven’t even given you my cock but you’re already drunk on it.”

“Drunk on you, Hongjoong.” you weakly correct, whimpering as one hand reaches up to wrap around your throat for a moment. 

“Yeah, it’s just my presence making you so wet and needy?” he tilts his head, crimson eyes glowing and he smirks at you, and you’re very aware of the way you can feel the emotions between each other.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand covering the one he has at your throat. “Please, Joong. Please let me have you in my mouth. I can be such a good girl, please.”

“Oh, I know you can be. You’re always so good, even when you’re getting punished.” Hongjoong growls, leaning to kiss you roughly. “Have your fill, my princess. I’ll let you enjoy my cock.”

You almost collapse into his lap, thanking him wildly as your hands move to slide the boxers down and let his shaft free. There’s already precum glistening on the tip and you lean to swipe your tongue over it, proud when you hear Hongjoong moan and his length twitches under your touch. You start slowly, lowering your mouth over him through a few breaths through your nose, waiting until his shaft grazes the back of your throat before moaning. Hongjoong has one hand gripping the sheets, claws tugging at the fabric as the other moves to pull your hair from your face. 

“Look at you, knowing how to use your mouth like a good little slut.” Hongjoong both praises and degrades, fully aware of the way you squirm at the words. “You like making me writhe for you, don’t you? Like watching me while you fuck me with your mouth?” The hand in the sheets moves as the other tugs at your hair, pulling you from his length enough to brush his fingers over your lips while one of your hands wraps around him to stroke him while he holds you away from the length. “I showed you how good it feels, and now you love to do it, huh?” He watches as you nod. 

“I like seeing how good it makes you feel,” your voice is rough, but you hold his eyes, smirking at him. “I love the way you moan and hiss, the way you praise me for pleasing you right.”

“You do love to be praised, huh?” Hongjoong mocks, hips rocking up into your hand as he speaks. “You get so wet and needy when I tell you you’re doing a good job. My perfect mate, my good girl, always being so attentive to my reactions. I taught you so well, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Captain.” you reply.

“I should reward you, princess.”

You shake your head a little. “Not yet, please. Let me be a good girl and please you first.”

“You’re already being such a good girl, though, Y/N.” He teases, but when you once more shake your head, he smirks at you. “Ahhh, I know what it is you want. You want us even before I fill you with my cock, don’t you? You want me to cum all over your tits so I can clean up my mess, yeah?” When you moan with a near-frantic nod, legs squeezing together as you lick your lips, he hums thoughtfully.

“Yes,” you beg, eyes closing. “Yes, please, Hongjoong. My soul, my captain, my love.” Your hand still works over him, and you know he’s aware of the way he’s leaking precum, his eyes never leaving yours. He then nods, relaxing the hold on your hair so you can once more dive onto him, hollowing your cheeks every few bobs of your head to further spur him to his first end. You recognize the way his head tilts back, the way his legs fall open even more, how his hips roll erratically up into your mouth. Suddenly, his hand tightens and pulls you up, a string of saliva connecting your now swollen lips to his throbbing member. Your hand returns to stroking him, adjust so your chest hovers near his shaft. His free hand moves to join your own at his length, applying just a little more pressure as he watches you.

“Can’t wait to see you painted in my cum, to clean up your tits while you ride my cock.” he pants, body quaking as he gets closer. A few more pumps from your hands and his release hits him, coating your breasts in his seed as his head falls back and whacks the headboard, his eyes closed as he breathes. “Fuck, princess,” he huffs, opening his eyes to smirk down at you. “Such a good job. Couldn’t have asked for a better mate than my magic girl.”

You giggle breathlessly, moving to close his legs so you can tug at his pants, smirking up at him as he comes down from his high, watching you as he catches his breath. “I love when I get to see you like this.”

“Drained of every fluid and aching for more of you?” Hongjoong jokes, his eyes still glowing even in the light of the hotel room. 

You shake your head, letting the denim and the boxers fall to the side of the bed, scooting up to straddle him while your fingers begin unbuttoning the shirt. “Your true form, Hongjoong. The demon I fell in love with.”

“I fell in love with you first, you know.” Hongjoong sits up to help you slide the shirt off, hands then roaming over your body. “The first time you asked to see this form, I knew I was lost on you. You stole my heart when I didn’t even think I had one to steal.” he tilted his head to kiss at your shoulder and up to your neck, his claws teasing over your skin. “That’s why I can never get enough of you, my princess.”

“Is that why I have a mating scar and a ring?” you teased, sliding up to drag the pads of your fingers over his shaft, the contact easily stirring it back to life, hardening under your knowledgeable touch.

“You have both because you said yes,” Hongjoong countered with a moan as his arousal spiked again, biting at your pulse as your fingers caressed over his length. “You have them because I love you and my soul is yours. The sex is just a bonus.” You can’t help but laugh, adjusting so you can ease his semi-hard (and getting harder) length into your folds, both of you moaning as you became one. The moment he bottomed out, Hongjoong was pulling you into a deep kiss, hands on your hips as he devoured your mouth before dipping his head to swipe his tongue through the sticky mess still coating your breasts. “I could go so many rounds and not need a break. You feel and sound so good.”

“We still need sleep, my beloved demon.” you breathed, tilting your head to kiss at his neck. “We have a flight in the morning.”

“Then let’s make sure your ride lasts.” Hongjoong smirks as he looks at you, leaning to to swipe another bit of his own release from your chest. “Because I am so far from done with you.”

“All this from some lace lingerie? Maybe I should buy more.”

“You started this, my precious girl.”

You make a point to lift your hips and drop without warning, smirking as Hongjoong almost screams out a moan. “Don’t get it twisted, Hongjoong. You started this when you decided to flaunt around in a full cowboy outfit like I wasn’t going to devoid you over it.” 

He responds by picking his hat up from the bed where it had fallen, placing it on your head with a smirk. “I’ll wear it anytime you want me to, gorgeous.”

“What if I just want you in the hat, hmm?” you ask, laughing out a moan as he begins to guide you on him, the two of you falling into a rhythm as he watches you. 

“I’m your cowboy, remember?”

“Yeah? Let me save a few horses, huh?”

Hongjoong smirks, fangs showing as he tugs you against him into a kiss, which allows him to change the angle of his hips as he picks up the pace to hear you moan more. “You can ride me anytime, Y/N. Day or night.”

[arc-misadventures]

What are those: wallow decided to go to beacon academy with winter to go see how wiess is doing but instead meet with jaune

The Dragon’s Diamond

A small bullhead flew through the air towards, Beacon Academy. It was a privately owned airship that belonged to the, Schnee Dust Company, and right now it was carrying an assortment of precious cargo: The daughter of the founder of the, SDC, Willow Schnee. Her eldest child, Winter Schnee. And a locked cased filled with diamonds of various sizes, and quality. At least what they assumed were diamonds. For they had come here to see if they were in fact real diamonds.

Winter: I’m sorry mother, but I must protest; Why did you have to come along to handle this simple endeavour; you could have simply handed over your, and my diamonds to, Klein, and let him handle it. Why did you have to come along?

Willow: I needed a vacation. This seemed like a reasonable excuse why to do so. Besides, it also gives me an excuse to be around my daughters. Is there something wrong with me desiring to be with my family my dear?

Winter: …

Winter: No, no there isn’t anything wrong with that, it’s just unexpected is all.

Willow: I understand, but being away from home also keeps me away from drinking. I’ve managed to at least reduce the amount I’ve been drinking substantially, but being around your father long enough will lead me back to drowning myself in the bottle again. I cannot allow that to happen.

Winter: I… I’m sorry, I thought you chose to leave for different reasons.

Willow: Like trying fine, Valian wines?

Winter: Ahh! Yes… Yes I thought so.

Willow: Well, depending on what, and where we’re having dinner I wouldn’t mind a suitable wine to go along with it, but I have to stop drinking. Not so much for myself, but for you, your sister, and your brother. I… I want to stay a part of your lives, to see you grow old, and start families of your own in the future. It would be a shame if I am to deny myself these opportunities because I drank myself to death…

Winter: Thank you, Mother. Hearing you say that means a lot to me. But, if you want to give up drinking, why are you looking forward to having wine with your meal?

Willow: I’m slowly weaning myself off drinking. Not everyone can just go cold turkey now can they?

Winter: I would prefer it if you did.

Willow: Well, it would probably be for the best if I did, but… Oh, we’re here, let’s continue this discussion later, and find your sister.

Winter: Very well then, Mother.

As the ship landed the mother, and daughter duo grabbed their luggage, and made their way towards the academy. As they neared closer to the tower, Willow couldn’t help, but take in the sights around her.

Willow: Oh my… Beacon Academy is such a lovely place.

Winter: Yes, the warm breeze, and vibrant greenery give this place such a relaxing air to it.

Willow: I know, Weiss went to, Beacon to escape father in, Atlas. But, do you suppose this rich atmosphere contributed to it?

Winter: I believe it was more so her desire to escape, Father. But, this is a nice benefit.

Willow: I hope she is feeling happy here.

Winter: Me too.

Willow: But, where do you believe she is?

Winter: I have no idea, there should be an information desk up front we can ask.

Willow: Or, I suppose we could ask him if he knows where, Weiss is.

Winter: Who?

As they drew closer to the, Academy they saw the statue out front, and a student sitting on the base of the statue. They noticed that he was seemingly mumbling to himself as he ran his hands through his golden hair as he evaded the white horns poking out.

Winter: A faunas?

Willow: Excuse me, young man?

: Hmm, what? Oh, hello.

Willow: Hello. I was wondering if you could help us.

: With what?

Winter: We’re looking for my sister, Weiss Schnee, do you perchance know her?

: Weiss Schnee? Yeah, I know her, we’re friends after all.

Willow: Excellent, can you please lead us to her?

: Sure I can… I can…?! Hurk?!

His hand quickly came up to cover his mouth, seemingly trying to repress a gag. His luck failed him as he continued to dry heave until a he opened his mouth, and a belch of fire erupted from his mouth before he fell into a small coughing fit as small jets of flame escaping his mouth with each cough. As soon as his coughing fit ended he popped a small white marble into his mouth, before turning to address the duo.

: Jacques you cheap bastard! (Cough!) Ahem, sorry about that, upset stomach. Hehe…

The duo looked at him in stunned shock, taking a moment for themselves to collect themselves. Willow seemingly able to keep her wits about her.

Willow: A-Are you okay?

: Yeah, I’m fine.

Winter: But, you just belched fire?

: That’s a semi-common occurrence.

Willow: But…?!

Winter: Wait, Mother… Male, blue eyes, blond hair, horns, and can breath fire… You’re the, Dragon King, Jaune Arc, aren’t you?

Jaune: That’s me, well mostly. I’m not a king of any sorts, but I am a dragon faunas. Anyway, my name is, Jaune Arc, nice to meet you.

Jaune offered his hand for the pair to shake as they introduced themselves in kind.

Willow: Willow, Willow Schnee, it’s a pleasure to meet you.

Winter: Specialist Winter Schnee.

Jaune: So you’re, Weiss’s family? That explained the smells.

Winter: Smells?

Jaune: I have a highly, highly acute sense of smell. I can smell familiarity’s between people, to the point I can tell if someone is related to another.

Winter: That sounds like an impressive ability.

Jaune: It has its downsides… Like my little sister trying to use me as a bloodhound…

Willow: You said you are friends with my daughter, Mr. Arc, can you lead us to her?

Jaune: Uhhh… No, no I can’t. She went into, Vale with the rest of her team just a little while ago.

Winter: She did, why?

Jaune: I don’t know; I left to ‘throw up,’ and when I came back she, and her teammates had disappeared. My sister said that they had made an emergency trip to, Vale, and that was all there was to it. Do you want me to call her, and let her know you’re here?

Winter: No… Well, maybe we should.

Willow: Oh dear… I was hoping to surprise her with our sudden visit.

Jaune: You can still do that if you want.

Willow: We can, how?

Jaune: Weiss, and her teams room is just down the hall from my teams room. You can wait there until she arrives.

Winter: What do you think mother?

Willow: We might as well, this young man has graciously offered us his place to us while we wait for your sister to return. We won’t be in there for a few hours at most.

Winter: Very well, we graciously accept your kind offer, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: My pleasure, and please, just call me, Jaune.

Winter: Very well then, Jaune.

Jaune: Even if you rejected my offer you’d no doubt be taken to my room anyway so I could inspect those diamonds, and any other gemstones of yours. If there are any that is…

Winter: What are you talking about?

Jaune: Two things: Those are, Fortress grade safe-boxes, made by the, Gem Refinery. To which I own, I know my merchandise. Especially the safe-boxes…

Willow: Wait, you’re the owner of the, Gem Refinery?

Jaune: Yes, I am. Second I over heard, Weiss… screaming to her father on how she wanted her entire families precious jewels so they can be appraised. And, who is that appraiser, me: Jaune Arc, the Lapidary Master!

Willow: You’re the, Lapidary Master?!

Jaune: Yep!

Willow: I don’t believe you. You’re just a teenager, and you’re supposedly the worlds most renowned fine cut gem grader?

Jaune: Oh, just you wait, and see darling! Now then, lets go look at some pretty stones!

~~~

Jaune: Hmmmm…?

Jaune hummed in speculation as he examined a rather large diamond on a gold ring with a jewellers magnifier. Willow looked on in a chair besides him, while, Winter look on from his bed as, Jaune worked.

Willow: That was the engagement ring my husband gave me, he said it is one caret diamond ring.

Willow: …

Willow: It is a diamond ring… Right?

Jaune looked at, Willow, back to the ring, and then back to her. Their eyes stayed locked for a moment before he threw it into his mouth, and a hard crunching sound soon followed this action.

Willow’s face fell into her hands as she groaned in disbelief at what she had just witnessed, again.

Willow didn’t believe, Jaune when he started sorting her diamonds into two piles, one labeled real, and labeled fake. The ‘fake’ pile had grown considerably larger then the ‘real’ pile to the point she doubted he was actually genuinely grading her diamonds, and was trying to steal them. To prove his innocence, he grabbed a sizeable real diamond, and bit it. The sound it made was akin to bitting a jaw breaker: hard, and solid, as if one smacked their head against a wall.

Jaune, then grabbed one he deemed a ‘fake’ and bit into it. The sound was like someone bit into a hard candy, and wanted to chew it up, instead of sucking on it; Loud, and crunchy.

He made this a habit whenever she doubted his expertise, as a master gemologist. A habit she had come to dread because of the details that followed with it.

Luckily that was the second to last diamonf he needed to inspect, and she knew for certain that the last one wasn’t fake.

Willow: At least tell me the ring was made of gold?

Jaune spat out the piece of metal next to the pile of fakes, she grimaced as she looked at him as he regretfully smiled at her.

Jaune: Well… Pyrite, isn’t called ‘fools gold’ for nothing… hehe…

Willow: Gods dammit… My husband bought me a fake engagement ring?! How cheap of a man is he?!

Winter: More so then we could possibly believe…

Jaune: I doubt he was in this case.

Winter: What do you mean?

Jaune: Well… From what I’ve been told your father is a greedy whore. Uhh?! N-No offence.

Winter: None taken.

Willow: Please, feel free to continue badmouthing my husband at your leisure.

Jaune: Okay? Anyway, your husband is a greedy whore, from what I’ve seen. And, from what, Weiss has said about him is that he doesn’t commit to anything that doesn’t have a shiny price tag attached to it. I think he acquired these gemstones as a future investment. Liquid assets as you would put it.

Winter: That sounds like something father would do, but why would he buy fakes? My father is a greedy bastard, and will do everything to save a chip. He wouldn’t buy fake diamonds, there’s no value in that.

Jaune: Maybe he didn’t know he was buying fakes?

Winter: You believe someone swindled him?

Willow: It is a logically sound idea when you think about it.

Jaune: I’m well aware of several infamous gem pedlars. Give me a list of your sellers, and I could identify who is a legit seller, and who is not. Because there are some real ones here, so maybe he bought the fakes from one person, and the real ones from another.

Willow: I believe they were all acquired from one person, at least the vast majority were.

Jaune: And, that person’s name is?

Willow: Cartiff… Cartiff… Oh, I forget his first name.

Jaune: …

Jaune: It wouldn’t happen to be, Quintin now would it…?

Willow: Quintin… Yes, Quintin Cartiff, that was his name. How did you know?

Jaune: Quintin… Quintin Cartiff…

Willow: J-Jaune? Is everything okay…

Jaune: Quintin CARTIFF!!!

Winter immediately jumped in front of her mother pulling her mother back. Her hand stayed on her blade as she saw a truly terrifying sight. Within the space of a blink the calm, and happy boy revealed a monster of fire, and ash. His head realed upwards as he scream his name in a bloody rage. Winter got to see first hand the hidden fang he hide behind that warm, and inviting smile of his. The way his mouth shut, terrified her knowing full well he could bite down into someone in mere seconds, and could easily pierce through aura, and flesh like it was tissue paper. She marvelled at the sight of blue flames erupting from clenched fangs. The reports she had seen about the dragon faunas were fragmented, and vague, but even those brief insights paled in reality at the sight before her.

The flames, erupting from, Jaune’s teeth slowly fettered out as a finally deep exhale escaped his lips, he shook his head as if trying to shake off some sort of ill feeling upon him. He leaned back in his chair to look at the mother, daughter duo as he gave them a nervous, and embarrassed smile as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

Jaune: Ah haha… Sorry about that… I didn’t expect hearing his name to set me off like that… Hehehe… Sorry…

Willow: It seems you are well acquainted with this individual?

Jaune: As well as I would like to be. The bastard is an infamous counterfeiter, specializing in fake jewels. Particularly diamonds. I met him years ago after I just started out my… passion for collecting precious gemstones. He sold me some nice diamonds the first few times, but then he came back again, and the ‘diamonds’ he brought were all fakes. He denied it of course. Then I ate his ‘diamonds’ to prove to him that they were all fakes.

Willow: Oh, so eating fake diamonds is not a recent habit you’ve developed. I thought it was just for show.

Jaune: Well, yeah it kinda is. I mean what better way to prove if a diamond is a fake?

Winter: Do you often eat precious stones?

Jaune: No, I tend to eat, Dust more so then cubic zirconia, and the like. That’s why I was belching fire earlier, Weiss fead me some, SDC Dust that made me sick to my stomach. Jacques is such a cheap bastard…

Winter: Wait, you eat, Dust?!

Willow: And, what does my husband have to do with that?

Jaune: Okay, one box left to examine!

Jaune simply ignored the ladies questions as he took out the last box. It was a seven inch cube box covered in various locking mechanisms that, Jaune was quite intrigued on opening it himself. But, in the pursuit of time he just handed it over to, Willow who opened it herself. And, upon it’s opening, Jaune beheld a beautiful sight. The one diamond he had been hoping to see for ages.

The famous, Schnee Diamond.

The diamond was cut into an orb with a with a three diameter, roughly making it the same size as your average baseball. It shimmered, and sparkled like a star under the light of his desk lamp. He extended the talons on his hand as he picked it up, and inspected this prized jewel. Turning it over as he marvelled in its beauty.

Willow: …?

Willow: Do you like it, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: …

Willow: Do you like it, Jaune?

Jaune: …

Willow: Jaune!

Jaune: Huw? Oh yeah, It is such a marvellous diamond… I’ve been dreaming of seeing it, holding it within my hands to marvel in its splendour since I first saw photos of it, and I must say those photos do it no justice in its magnificent.

Winter: Are you sure it’s real?

Winter cheekily remarked as, Jaune was lost in the beauty of the diamond in his taloned fingers. Her smile fell as she heard the most beautiful ringing sound she had ever heard as he tapped the diamond with his talon before turning to face her.

Jaune: Hear that? Humans can’t here this sound, most faunas can’t hear it either, but I can. Most diamonds are too small to make this an audible sound for most people to hear it. But, this diamond is big enough for anyone to hear it singing. Only a real diamond can make such beautiful sounds.

Willow: It is such a beautiful sound, I had no idea such sounds can come from a diamond.

Jaune: Only a few bare such elegance… Oh I wish I could have this diamond for myself… But alas, I doubt your open to selling it. Are you…?

Willow: If I was… Hypothetically speaking, how much would it be…?!

Jaune: Three billion Lien.

The duo looked at him astonished at the thought that, that diamond was worth, Three Billion Lein. The sense of unquestionable authority as he stated this didn’t make them question the possibility that he was gaslighting them so he could get it for a fraction of the price.

Willow: Oh my… I… I did not expect that…

Jaune: Didn’t you have it graded before?

Willow: Decades ago, and back then it was nearly a billion lien. But, to imagine the price has gone up that much… it’s unbelievable…

Jaune: It would be the worlds most valuable diamond, but that title was taken away from it a few years back.

Winter: Oh really? What took it’s place?

Jaune: This…

As if appearing from thin air, Jaune held out before the duo a diamond; A diamond cut into a sphere with a diameter of five inches across. Winter’s breath was stolen away as, Willow at the beauty presented before her. She carefully took it from him, fearing the validity of the rumours that he would gut her if she touched it. But, it appeared as if he was offering it to her to hold, so she took it.

She was amazed by its hefty weight, as she saw the light sparkle across it surface. She was amazed when her father showed her the, Schnee diamond, but the splendour of this diamond put it to shame so thoroughly she couldn’t find it in herself to complain about it in the slightest.

Willow: The Translucent Apple… Oh she is absolutely gorgeous~!

Winter: You’re the owner of the world’s largest diamond…?! That makes sense because you’re such a gemstone lover… But wait, where did you pull that out from? Do you just keep it hidden on your person at all times.

Jaune: Not in the shower.

Winter: What?!

Willow: It is truly a marvellous diamond. It was an honour to hold it. Winter, do you perhaps?

Winter: Nnnno, no I wouldn’t. If our family’s diamond is worth three billion, it terrifies me to hold something worth…

Jaune: Five billion Lien.

Winter: Five billion Lien… Wait, what really?!

Jaune: I am not considered one of the richest men in the world for nothing.

Winter: Five billion… And, he just has that up his coats sleeves?!

Willow: Well, it was a pleasure, despite the sheer disappointment of it all, no fault upon you, Jaune. I thank you for grading our families diamonds, and other precious stones.

Jaune: My pleasure… If you want, I can set you up with a jeweller from my company. I can confirm whole heartedly their validity as the genuine article.

Willow: I would appreciate that very much. But, there is something I would like to ask you…

Jaune: That being?

Willow: I heard you were offered gemstones as a dowery of sorts… Does that offer still stand?

Jaune’s burning focus of ingraining the beauty of the, Schnee Diamond upon his mind had finally been broken. Not even offering up the, Translucent Apple for, Willow to marvel at had broken his singular concentration of the diamond within his talon fingers. But, that one question broke him from his stupor like a gunshot to the heart. For he knew all to well what the dowery for this proposal would be.

Jaune: A-Are you offering me this diamond for your daughters hand…?

Willow: Indeed I am.

Winter: Mother no!

Winter exclaimed in shock as she looked at her mother as if she had lost her sanity. And, worry as, Jaune eyed the diamond with a new burning intensity trapped deep within the very depths of his soul.

Jaune: This… This is a priceless family heirloom, you wouldn’t simply give it away for me to accept, Weiss’s hand in marriage would you?

Willow: The diamond would still be in the hands of a, Schnee if you married my daughter, so it wouldn’t be lost. And, I never said anything about you marrying, Weiss now did I?

Willow looked to her eldest child with a smile as, Winter’s voice failed her. She was dumbfounded that this conversation had taken such a drastic turn. Was her mother seriously offering up the family’s prized heirloom for her hand in marriage?!

It was unthinkable. That her mother would do this to her on seemingly a whim. It scared her. But, what truly terrified her was the deafening silence that followed as, Jaune looked between her, and the diamond.

At her, and the diamond.

At her, and the diamond.

At her, and the diamond.

And, then at her, and only her.

Winter gulped in fear at the sudden turn her life was about to make.