#say they're piercing into my soul and all that

[silverselfshippingchaos]

k.abru d.ungeon m.eshi the man that you are...

[llycaons]

except for the very beginning wentworth’s letter is genuinely a stunning piece of romantic writing and I really should reread the book because the maturity with which they approach each other after the truth came out was just so satisfying and refreshing compared to the majority of romances

[gilverrwrites]

I love imaging Dick, Tim, and Damian sneaking around trying to meet Jasons new gf because they just wanna be involved in his life and they know if they they leave it to Jay they wont meet her u til they're married with kids 😭

AND ‘omg us meeting Jason’s siblings when’

AN: Ngl I love this idea too, its so shitty of them but they have the best of intentions.

Damian

A boy no older than 14 with eyes that pierce the soul was not what you'd expected to find on Jason's couch the very first time he'd left you alone there. Jason had to dip out unexpectedly early, and had promised you run of the place until he got back so you'd slept in as long as you could and were on your way to make breakfast when you're greeted by the hell-child.

Once your initial fright wears off you realise you recognize him from a photo Jay had showed you which makes you feel slightly more at ease.

“Good morning? Damian right?” You offer as you pass him, be-lining for the coffee machine, you're gonna need caffeine if you're meeting any member of Jay's family for the first time. “Can I get you anything?”

“Alfred says it's unbecoming to sleep past 9.” Besides the initial glare he'd graced you with as you emerged from the bedroom, he doesn't even look up at you, his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Like brother like brother, you guess.

“Oh, well. Good thing Alfreds not here then.” You add a small laugh, trying to inject some humour to the situation. Damian does not respond in kind. “Is that a no? I think there's some chocolate cereal around here somewhere.”

“What do you do for work that allows you to be in my brother's home in the middle of the day?”

Jeez this kid is no-nonsense. “Or I could make pancakes, I make really good pancakes.”

“And tell me what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Baby?

“I think there's some chocolate chips around here somewhere. Jason says you like chocolate. Chocolate pancakes?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“Are you always so intense?”

He slams the book closed and you nearly jump on the spot. He finally looks at you, really looks at you and as you stare back his features begin to soften slightly.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

You're certain from the sly look on his face that he's probably not allowed coffee. He certainly doesn't need any. But screw it, he's not your kid and if it gets him to like a little, you'll take the risk.

So you pour two coffees and join him on the couch. His questions do not cease until Jason returns about an hour later. He couldn't care less about the coffee, but he does care about Damian breaking in to interrogate his partner and immediately kicks Damian out.

Dick

Dick finds out about your existence from one of Damian’s letters, and he's subtle but pushy about meeting you. Not that you're aware. He keeps ‘dropping by’ Jason's apartment ‘just to see his lil brother’, no other reason but is told to get lost or downright ignored anytime you're there, until he decides to cut out the middle man and turn up at your home instead.

“Let me tell you, you are a hard person to get a hold of.” He informs as he invites himself through your front door.

“Um, hello Dick?” As you stare at his lush hair and sculpted abs you wonder what Alfred feeds these boys.

“Yep! I can't stay so I’ve gotta make this quick.” he gestures for you to come closer, speaking in a playful, conspiratorial whisper. “Jay doesn't know I'm here.”

That would be why he can't stay, Jason is due at your door any minute now.

“But you two seem to be getting pretty serious and I think it's important that we all get to know each other. You following?”

You nod, and he gives you the perkiest, most genuine smile. That or he has that exact look practised to a T. From what Jay tells you, either is possible.

“So, Barbara and I, that's my wife” You nod once more, you're aware of Barbara also. “have booked a table at Casa Gotica for Thursday night. We need you to get Jason there without letting on that it's a double date.”

“I don’t know.” you finally give your nodding head a break. “Jay and I don’t lie to each other.”

“Right. I can't begrudge that. Very glad to hear he's picked an honest one.” He takes a moment to straighten his thoughts, but his moment is cut short but the echo of Jason’s combat boots approaching your door. Dick’s eyes rapidly scan the room for a secondary exit before he settles on an open window. “Don't think of it as lying, think of it as omitting the truth. Whatever you have to do just be there for 6.30. Oh, and it's great to meet you!”

“You too.”

“Thursday, 6.30!”

Before you can agree he’s gone, presumably scaling the side of your building as Jay steps inside.

Tim

Tim was actually the first to be aware of you and your relationship with his brother, however, the very real possibility of being gutted by Jason for snooping in his personal life was too high for him to make a move.

But you seeking him out is a different story; or rather, you being the first to say hi when you bump into each other in line at the grocery store is different. It would be rude not to respond to your attempts at initiating a conversation.

“Hello, hi, are you Tim? You don't know me but I’m Jasons partner. Its so great to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” He states rather ominously, eyes darting around behind you. “Is he here?”

“No, but he's picking me up after.” His shoulders visibly ease.

“Cool cool cool.” He’s suddenly much more personable. “So, I hear you're into…”

That chatting doesn't dry or lul at all as the queue dwindles and both buy your groceries. He waits with you until you get confirmation from Jay that he's on his way. He's easily the chillest sibling you've met thus far.

When Jason arrives he gets out of the car to open the boot and passenger door for you as always, but not before he thrusts his phone in your face. “Where is he?”

Displayed on the screen is a selfie of Tim with you in the background, you absolutely do not remember it being taken.

[i23kazu]

♡ THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU'RE HIS LOVER?!

characters. xiao zhongli diluc kaeya childe wriothesley x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. part 1 !!!! when someone else claims to be their partner / work wife. office!au. | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

you're pretty taken aback by the gall of this .... intern? whoever even was she? to claim that she was your husband's wife.

yep, that's how irrelevant she is

xiao was disgusted, to say the least. horrified.

"get your hands off me." he looks her in the eye, the sudden fierceness emitting a gasp from her.

"i love it when you're strict," she purrs, tracing her fingers up his neck. you smack them away.

"perhaps you'll love it if the ceo was stricter with you," you smile sweetly. "i don't think he takes too kindly to homewreckers."

zhongli

not again. not this ... piece of dirt? no, that might be an insult to his old friend guizhong.

she's a catty lady. beady eyes that went straight for his soul – her piercing stare seemed to always follow him.

he didn't like it one bit. his grip around your waist felt tighter, desperate even – a cold "let's go, dear," escaping his lips.

"so protective, suddenly?" you tease.

"i don't take kindly to those who try to insult my love, dearest."

diluc

oh, he goes red with rage. but he looks on at you proudly, because he knows you got it.

who even was she to claim that she loved him? a silly flowergirl who couldn't do her job right, because she was oogling him the whole time. she worshipped the ground he stepped on.

"who are you looking at?" you tap her on the shoulder, eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

"that man... he's mine." she gazes into his eyes, looking him up and down. you scratch your neck. she asks if you're alright.

"i'm afraid i'll have to correct you on that statement. that man is mine." you grin, turning your hand to show her your ring.

kaeya

okay, you totally get it. your husband is hot. but literally the AUDACITY the lack of SHAME the the the-

"please, we've been put together for almost all our cases. isn't that right, darling? it's almost as if they know we're good for each other." they purr.

darling?? DARLING?? you'll show them darling

"is that so?" you chuckle. "perhaps i ought to write in, then. i'm not too sure if my husband takes well to that. a violation of his personal life, if you will."

they go white at the sight of the ring.

"that's my love." kaeya chuckles, watching then stomp away.

childe

he's wildly uncomfortable. "your complexion is deeply concerning, tartaglia," the doctor chuckles.

"i wonder why." he returns it dryly.

he's too nice to avoid them – those longing stares, the notes slipped through stacks of his paperwork – he cant crumple them up and throw them away. he pretends that they're from you instead.

when that witch comes around to his desk, purring and grimy witch hands all over his papers; pretending to annoy him – 

he can't take it. it's disgusting.

"i'd appreciate it if you left me alone," he stares at her. "my partner and i would appreciate it very much."

wriothesley

oh, he's firm. he's firm, and he's strict about it. word gets around quickly in the meropide, and he sits back with his cup of tea and sighs at the thought of a work lover.

he doesn't stand for it, though. he hates the thought of that.

"get your hands away from me, please," he replies coldly, when they run up to hug him, first thing in the morning.

sigiewinne looks on with a proud smile. i raised that boy.

the girl turns away from him with disgust – from seemingly perfect to nothing but sludge beneath her feet. she slinks away, and wriothesley is satisfied.

he can't wait to tell you the news over a cup of your favourite tea.

perhaps some alone time with each other will do the both of you good.

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[astrologylunadream]

How Your Person Would Describe You🍨🗣💭 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream🖤 In this reading you will find how your person would talk about you/describe you to others.

Omg and I just realized my current number of follows is 888 so powerful energy up in here. (thank you all so much for that💞) hope you find your message🌸

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of that beautiful person on your mind, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling drawn to~💭

Pile 1🧁

Pile 2🍨

Pile 3🐈‍⬛

Pile 4👛

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 👀

Pile 1🧁

Sign energy: Water, Fancy, Hair, Avoidance, Options, Chiron, Pisces, 8th house, Vertex, Mercury,🙅‍♂️🏚🟧🧖‍♀️

🖤Your person's energy: I'm sensing that this is an emotional individual, even if they don't show it. They might be more serious to others, but they have feelings themselves. Dominant energy of Pisces, Scorpio, Virgo and Gemini, for some of you pisces mercury or chiron conjunct mercury is significant. I feel like they have a closed off demeanor and some people may expect them to be cold or in a bad mood. This person likely changes their hair a lot, could be drastically like the color. Their hair may be very attractive to you😍 Your person may often avoid things they aren't ready for, not necessarily indecisive but just very avoidant. This could be because they have been through a lot of damage in the past, they have a lot of emotions built up and they have been hurt with others words.😥 They may not enjoy classy events or that could be a regular thing for them that they can't stand. Because I'm picking up for some of you this person is higher class. The color orange may be significant. For some of you this person is avoiding you, I'm hearing they're running out of options take what resonates whatever that means for you. You have a deep attraction and infatuation with this person, but I'm getting that they are more so reserved when it comes to intimate relationships. So they push back a bit if you approach them, They're a heavy thinker and may expect issues to occur if they get involved in a romantic connection. They get lost in their thoughts sometimes, but they have a really aesthetic voice.💗

💬How they would describe you: Energy, Mindfulness, Decay, Lilith, Tears, Fire, 1st house, 2nd house, Virgo, Pluto, 🟩🫂🥱🎸 Okay so your person would describe you as someone who has a very bright and youthful vibe to them, and there's a spark of determination in your eyes. They would say you also have a witty and sharp mind, they feel as if you outsmart them. They're kind of jealous of you for it. But they think you are too hard on yourselves, and it tears them apart on the inside. Maybe you judge yourself too hard? They would say they want to give you good vibes and recharge your happiness.🤗 When you enter the room, your energy just radiates to them. I feel like they would tell others how sweet you are.💓 They would like to say you seem really smart, actually. They bet many people are jealous of your abilities. To be honest, they would say the way your mind works scares them a little, but it also makes you very attractive.😳 they would feel like your words could pierce into their soul, and get kind of intimidated. They don't know for sure, but something about you is just captivating. They would describe you as someone you would want to hug, especially when you're feeling down or low on energy. That you have a strong approach to the world, and put your best foot forward. They don't know what to expect from you at the moment, not exactly warmed up to you yet. Your person might need more time to analyze you, and see what you're truly all about.🔍🩷

💌Messages from your person: You need me now, They know, We were meant to be, Again and again, Let me adore you (How sweet🥺💞) Extra cards: Abandonment, Soft spot, Tight, Vent, Love song

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🩷

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the cupcake emoji~🧁 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🌸

Pile 2🍨

Sign energy: Outfit, Harm, Swim, Closed, Fake smile, Uranus, Venus, 9th house, 1st house, Jupiter, 🎭🦴👰‍♀️💭

🖤Your person's energy: For this pile I am sensing someone physically bigger, they have an outward vibe to them. I feel like your person just fills the room with their aura, they could be charismatic or seem that way to you. Dominant signs are Aquarius, Taurus, Libra, Sagittarius, Aries and Pisces energy. They dress very individually, I'm hearing no one in your circle dresses the way they do. It's definitely something thay catches your eye, they have a very specific style that's unique and fresh😎 Your person may be very drawn to foreigners especially females from a different background from them, maybe they wish to marry someone from a different country or language?💍🫢 Your person has a pretty smile, they smile a lot and many people adore their smile. Swimming could be a hobby for them or maybe their field of work for some of you. I feel like this person puts on a social face, they could be really good at hiding their emotions. You may imagine yourself with this person a lot, but they get a lot of female attention.👀 Physically they are attractive and well dressed. Your person is very social, they may not necessarily want to be but since they recieve so much attention it is hard to avoid.💬💫 For some of you this person is more of an introvert with a lot of friends. Your person has a very broad selection of clothing styles, they like trying out new things. Very expirimental person, they also have great bone structure I'm hearing.💪

💬How they would describe you: Rise, Surface, Focus, Queen, Danger, Uranus, Aries, Jupiter, 5th house, 9th house,👸⬜️🧣🙃 Ohh okay this is very interesting, so your person would describe you as someone very attractive😆 It's not like they're flirting about it but they do see you as someone very romantically magnetic, you have charms about you that they think many people would adore. So your person would also describe you as a unique and empowered person, but I definitely think if you asked them what they think of you the first thing that comes to mind would be your physical traits🫦♨️ Yesss your person would think that first when it comes to you. But also they would say you have a lot of drive and determination for enhancing your experiences in life, they would say you are fun-loving and unpredictable.❤️‍🔥 Also that you put a lot into your love life, some of you may want to date around and explore your possible romantic adventures and your person sees that as a part of your personality and who you are. They would describe you as a creative and entertaining person to be around, someone who knows how to enjoy themselves.🥳 You are a huge focus to this person too omg, they're really interested in you I'm hearing. They would say that they're curious and you, and willing to see what you're about. They also would say that you're a little wild and untamed, but also untouchable in a powerful way.👑💗 Your person would see you as your own queen/king, someone with a sense of self worth and achievement.👏

💌Messages from your person: Stop thinking about me, I'm so into you, Whatever works for you, Anything for you, I'm desperate (Omg whaaat😢💞) Extra cards: Last, Creativity, Hate, Medication, Alice in wonderland

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🩷

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the sundae emoji~🍨 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🌸

Pile 3🐈‍⬛

Sign energy: Long, Girlfriend, Perfect, Intellectual, Reach out, Cancer, Mars, South node, Saturn, North node,💆‍♀️♎️😭🧩

🖤Your person's energy: Oh so someone is definitely on their toes in this connection, like holding onto it so much😫✊️ Prominent signs are Cancer, Aries, Scorpio, Capricorn and Aquarius. Libra may be significant, that is the sign of relationships too.😮💞 Your person has a very soft energy to them, but also very capable like they are not a helpless or dependent kind of person. This relationship could feel somewhat out of reach to you or them, like there is just so much going on right now for you both. You may view them as an ideal romantic partner, or they have many traits you want in a lover. Definitely a more feminine and sweeter energy.💌🌸 Some of my pile 3's are dating this person, because I'm definitely getting this mutual loving and romantic interest from both sides. You may be madly in love with this person or they may be madly in love with you.😍 The intimacy from them could be the best you have had if you've been intimate with them. Your person is so caring for you though, like they want to protect you and give you comfort and love.🫂😇🥰 Your person is quite smart too, they are clever and think things through. Someone in this connection is trying to reach out or has been for a while, not giving up I'm hearing.😢 My pile 3's and their person are so cute togetherrr. They just fit with you in every way, feeling like your other half. The perfect boyfriend/girlfriend I'm hearing, it is likely this is the person you will start a family/share a home with!!

💬How they would describe you: Decision, Fashion, Surrender, Bedroom, Punish, Sun, Lilith, 1st house, 4th house, 12th house,👥️❤️‍🩹😘💭 Wow I was not expecting this, my pile 3's your person is just omg🥵 They would describe you as well dressed and hot, like you look good in your clothes😳 They would see you as someone more submissive and delicate, especially if you two are alone together. Your person would call you cute and hot at the same time (other things too I won't go into all that in this reading😭). They would say that you're good at like choosing the best options for yourself, lol maybe they think you made a good decision by choosing them?😂 Haha that's cute and I feel like your person would say you know right from wrong pretty well, you have a good sense of justice. But omg they would say you are physically attractive like they want to pin you down that's how attractive you are to this person🫣❤️‍🔥 Your person would say you're like home to them, a safe place for them to turn to. They want to punish you in a romantic sense (only if you want that I'm getting), I'll leave it to Interpretation but yeah a lot of intimate descriptions about you🔞 They would call you a dreamy and spiritual person and they really like that about you too. You are someone soft and so lovable to them, they would say you are theirs omg. They love the way you dress, you are someone they want to hug and hold aww. They would say you're someone they think about a lot, omg I'm hearing "this is the person I love" like that is how they would describe you my pile 3's!!🥰💗

💌Messages from your person: Let's listen to music together, Thinking of you, Anything for you, Keep going, With you. (So much thinking of you lol so sweet🥺💖) Extra cards: Poker face, Throne, Extreme, Alice in wonderland, Cold (Maybe some of you guys are somewhere where the temperatures are really low rn since it's winter during this reading.❄️)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🩷

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the black cat emoji~🐈‍⬛ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🌸

Pile 4👛

Sign energy: Love song, Surprise, Desperation, Bad habit, Gossip, Juno, Mercury, 8th house, Taurus, Mars, ♀️💄🤦‍♂️🫱

🖤Your person's energy: Okay there is a lot of talk centered around this person, my pile 4's your person is on many people's minds I'm getting.💭👀!! There are main energies of Gemini, Virgo, Scorpio, Taurus and Aries. I feel like this person is kinda like a forbidden fruit to you guys, like you shouldn't take the bite but you're really tempted. Maybe they're said to be bad or dangerous, like you may just get this vibe from them that's like bad news. Your person may wear makeup or you tend to wear a lot around them.💋💄 Omg I feel like your person is the type that others think they are wearing makeup even when they aren't, their bare face is really attractive to you.😳 You may have a habit of falling back into this connection, there is definitely a cycle happening with this person. Particularly feminines are talking about your person a lot, and masculines are like talking bad about them that's what I'm picking up on. There may be gossip about you and this person, I think a lot of people are jealous of your person and the way they think and communicate themselves in a powerful and magnetic way.🖤 You may be desperate to talk to them, some of you want to marry this person. I can definitely feel that they are tired of what everyone is saying about them, there may be some gossip going around about you too. Your person is actually really genuine, if they like you they won't be fickle about it. They may be very honest or direct in their romantic relationships. Also they don't like gossip and rumors I'm hearing.

💬How they would describe you: Happiness, You, Dating, Worthy, Warm, Lilith, 12th house, Cancer, Aquarius, 1st house,💥🤫🗿🤤 So they would describe you as someone they care about omg🥺🩷 You make them happy and feel safe. They would say you are a good friend (maybe some of you are friends with this person) and also good to your friends. They would say you radiate a warm caring energy, some of my pile 4's are dating this person on the low🫢🗣 Your person would say you have the most comforting hugs, so warm and loving. They would describe you as a very spiritual and intuitive person, diving into the darkest depths of unknown and somewhat taboo or strange topics. Your appearance is comforting and sweet to them, and they would say you are so worthy of their time and love.💗 They would call you a unique and soft individual, something about you is so special to them. They would say you are someone they want to date, and stay with for a long time.😍💋 Your person would also say you confuse them in many ways too haha, you have a mysterious allure they can't seem to figure out.🧠✨️ Your person would describe you as friendly and sweet. They would say they can count on you with whatever they need, because you're reliable to them. Your presence alone would make them feel safe and at ease, omg you really just make their day I'm hearing.☀️ They could probably list a thousand positive traits of yours, that's how much they enjoy your existence lol. I just love your person's opinion on you guys, it's so supportive and loving😭💖

💌Messages from your person: You're ready for me, My one and only, Please don't love anyone else, Why so serious? I knew you would feel this way. (For some of you in this pile, this person definitely knows how you feel about them!! Any of my pile 4's date this person?😘 Cuz like they know you love them🤣🤣) Extra cards: Comfort, Escape, Locked, Money, Habits

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🩷

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the handbag emoji~👛 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🌸

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[thedevilsoftruth]

Shane hcs bc why tf not

Starting off strong, he's 30 years old. people are gonna hear that and think, "What the fuck Bullet, you're insane, Stardew characters are all in their 20's " but you see that's where we differ, sweetie. I consider Harvey to be the oldest bachelor with Shane 2nd in line. The way Shane talks, he sounds like a 30-year-old man. The way he acts, he acts like a 30-year-old man. The way he looks.. he looks like a 30-year-old man. Idc what yall say.

Second in line, he likes heavy music. That is not me self-projecting. He 100% grew up around mfs on his gridball team who listened to people like.. idfk Kanye West, and my homeboy is the outcast with the, " i was raised on Iron Maiden, Metallica, and Motley Cru. " I like thinking, as he got older he started liking bands like Slipknot, Alice In Chains, and Nine Inch Nails. Angry music for an angry soul.

He is an only child.

Curses like a sailor. He tried to be extra weary of it when he caught Jas saying the f-word one day. Marnie elbows him when they're in public and he curses. He's pretty bad with it.

Always had bad grades in English. The highest grade he got was a B in his junior year of high school.

First job was working at a fast food restaurant. He also cleaned people's cars with friend of his during his freshman year.

Refers to his male friends as his, ' Buddies "

Poker EXPERT.

Liked Dragon Ball for a while.

14 mm ear gauges. Had his tongue pierced when he was 18. Tried to do it to himself in the back of his math class in his Junior year but it got infected.

The first car he owned was a pickup truck he bought from a very sketchy car dealer.

Too many crazy high school stories. He probably often jumped the fences with his buddies and would get in trouble. Now his social skills are actual ass and he's old.

Cannot bear the thought of learning another language.

Does not like vodka.

He doesn't like dogs. at all.

Has a tiny tattoo of his chicken Charlie above his ankle. Probably has a tattoo on the inner side of his forearm as well.

[m00nc4kes]

I love you.

hobie brown x black! reader

words: 4.5k

rating: mature

summary: You loved Hobie and you knew he loved you. You didn't know it would tear you two apart.

warnings: gender isn't mentioned for reader but they're fem leaning; suggestive and kinda explicit (not really tho); fluff but we descend into angst; author is not british

pt. 2

"I love you."

The words that fell from your lips left a sweet aftertaste. Even so, it had startled Hobie. You could tell from how he suddenly stopped playing his guitar and his muscles stiffened. He openly stared at you with parted lips.

"Pardon?"

After several months of dating and more than a year of companionship, you'd expected a reaction like this. That's how you reasoned with yourself to not let your sweetness waver into a bitterness. So you said it again:

"I love you."

You were tired of dancing around the words, tired of the words haunting your every waking move. You and Hobie's shared sentiment of the words was probably what made your relationship sail so smoothly. But at this point, you were ready to rock the boat and you trusted him enough to not let you fall overboard. 

"Ah," was all Hobie said. He moved his guitar from his lap to the spot next to him. "'n what brought this up?"

"Nothin'," you hummed. "Jus' wanted to say it."

"Knowin' I wouldn't say it back?"

"Knowin' you wouldn't say it back."

He watched you with his champagne-filled eyes while you watched the guilt swirl around his face. You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled when he leaned into the touch. 

"S'not like I don', y'know," he started off carefully. "It's jus'..."

"Ya don't have to explain, Hobes. I already feel it from you."

When you grew up with love being a double-edged sword, the words would inevitably mean nothing to you. Yet, as reasonable as it felt, there was something about saying “fuck you�� to the love you grew up with. And you didn't mind taking that first step alone. Hell, you didn't mind going through the journey alone. But, you hoped that one day, Hobie would take your outstretched hand.

In the meantime, you had no problem feeling the love he had for you.

You reveled in it when he turned his head to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. His lipstick stained it and you laughed. The sound of your delight brought a toothy grin to his face. 

“You’re gorgeous, my lovely.”

You blew a small raspberry and turned away. There was something about the way Hobie would compliment you that made your face flush with something oh so hot. 

Knowing how you would react, Hobie leaned forward to pepper kisses against your cheeks. It sent a blaze to the tips of your ears as you let out a surprised noise. He chuckled then continued to kiss along your face.

Later on, when you stood in front of your bathroom mirror and saw all of the dark lipstick stains littered across your face, down your neck, and smudged across your lips, you smiled. Your heart was filled to the brim with newly budded flowers and a warmth that you prayed would never go away.

“Oi, ducky! Where’d ya go?” you heard him shout from across your apartment. You released an amused breath and shook your head.

“I’m in the bathroom, Bee!”

You knew he loved you.

You knew it when he performed on stage, pouring his heart into his lyrics while sweat clung to his shirtless form. He glistened under the stage lights as the audience screamed with him. Of course, you’d been front row, screaming right along with them. 

Hobie’s solo sliced through the air as his deft fingers moved along the neck of his guitar. It was flawless— you knew it would be. He had practiced the damn thing over and over and over again, so much so that you would hear it in your dreams.

So when you heard the last note ring out, you screamed and cheered, already deafened by the excited crowd who followed suit. Your chest swelled with pride and you screamed out again.

Hobie’s eyes found you in the crowd without a moment’s hesitation. He beamed at you with a shine in his eyes that pierced your soul with a fondness that you couldn’t even begin to match. But you wouldn’t hesitate to try.

You threw your arms up and cheered him on.

Because you loved him.

And you knew he loved you.

You knew it during tipsy nights and after parties at the pub when you two could hardly keep your hands off each other. Liquor flowed freely along your nerves allowing for loose lips and weak legs. There was something about taking shot after shot that didn’t allow you to detach from Hobie.

Not that he minded. You knew that from how tightly he gripped your hips as you threw your ass on him. He caught you easily, grinding against you, and you knew his patience was wearing thin. Your body was hot yet your skin burned hotter under his hands and fingers that dug into you. 

The music was near deafening and the dance floor barely allowed any room between you and the other bodies that were touching and sticking to each other. You didn’t mind much. The body you wanted held you close and you needed his patience to break already.

You wanted him to fuck you in the bathroom.

Though, liquor couldn’t drown your logic. With how packed the place was, the bathroom would be incredibly risky, you’d get caught easily. Oh, but the thrill would’ve been amazing.

You pushed your ass against him again and had to restrain your laugh at what you felt. Patience was a virtue, but not a virtue that Hobie would care about much longer. 

He managed to turn you around without hesitation and the kiss you received was absolutely sinful. You could taste the alcohol lingering on his tongue and if he didn’t have such a secure grip on you, your legs would’ve buckled. 

The kiss was messy, sloppy, and the biggest sign that it was time to go.

Getting through the crowd was no easy feat, but you two found a way out. The cold air hit you like a brick, but Hobie remained impossibly close, sharing what little body heat he had himself. He threw an arm around you, going on about something you couldn’t remember, but it entertained you nonetheless.

You managed to stay upright through desire and unbridled stubbornness. As you two walked side-by-side, Hobie would occasionally kiss your cheek or lean down to nip at your neck. 

You loved when he did it, if the dopey smile that spread across your face was anything to go off of. Your heart did happy flutters in your chest and your need for him only grew.

Yeah, you loved him. You loved him. He was going to give you the night of your life and you loved him.

“Hobieee,” you drawled, leaning your head against him.

“Yeaaah?” he mimicked. You laughed loudly and he joined you. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve guessed you two were high instead of completely shitfaced. 

You looked at him with that stupid dopey grin of yours and said, “I love youuu.” 

His face softened and those whiskey-colored eyes of his were illuminated by the streetlight you found yourself under. He was a beautiful sight to behold and you loved, loved, loved him. 

The two of you stopped. He gazed at you with lust-filled eyes and kissed you. Then, he kissed you again, cradling your face in his hands. His thumbs rubbed against your cheeks as he pressed his lips against you again.

He would’ve kissed you again if it weren’t for that oh so stupid dopey grin of yours that refused to stay back, even for a moment. You couldn’t help it and he knew that, so he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You knew he loved you, even if he were too afraid to utter the words. 

You said it again and again when he had you pinned under him on his bed. Your desire for each other didn’t waver. The night stretched on and held still just for the two of you. 

Your nails dug into his back as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how wonderful you were and how good you felt. The declarations were silent “I love you”s that made your toes curl because you were— close. 

Oh fuck, you were close.

Euphoria flowed from your body and your pleasure fell from your lips. Through heavy breaths you confessed again and again that you loved him.

And he showed you that he loved you the next morning.

You woke up in an empty bed tangled up in Hobie’s sheets. While you wished the empty bed was your main concern, it really wasn’t.

Your head pounded and absolutely dared you to open your eyes to face the blinding light. The groan you let out came from your soul. Your hangovers always struck you like a truck you couldn’t seem to dodge.

“Mornin’, ducky.” 

You grunted out an acknowledgement and heard him step closer to your bedside. He placed something on the nightstand that sounded like glass. The thought of water made you peek open an eye. He stood in front of you only wearing a pair of plaid boxers. You could see the marks you left on his dark skin from last night.

“Got ya some water ‘n some pills.” He spoke softly and you could’ve praised him for it, but your body didn’t agree with you.

With one hell of an effort, you managed to sit yourself up to take the pills and inhale the water. Hobie sat on the bed and watched you fondly. You wiped your mouth and put the glass back on the stand.

Hobie reached forward and touched your forehead with the back of his hand. “How ya feelin’, duck?” He moved his hand to your neck to check the temperature there.

The action was sweet because you never ran a fever with your hangovers, but he was insistent on making sure you were just hungover and not sick.

“Like shit.”

He hummed and flipped his hand over to cradle your cheek. “Figured. Jus’ rest up, alrigh’?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you playfully dismissed him. He leaned forward and kissed your temple.

“Lemme kno’ if ya need anythin’.”

You felt the corners of your lips quirk up as you released a sigh. 

Yeah, you loved him.

And you knew he loved you.

Time continued on as it always did. Your hand stayed outstretched toward Hobie, even if you’d nearly forgotten that you had it out for him. Your “I love you”s flew from your lips and came as easy as breathing. You’d taken that double-edged sword and gripped the blade as if it were a handle, telling yourself that it didn't need to be a sword in the first place. The blood that dripped from your hands reminded you that it was okay if it hurt, it would heal. If you tried hard enough, your hands would stop bleeding and fade into scars. If you tried hard enough, the sword would become flowers in the palms of your hands. 

Flowers that you could turn around and give to Hobie.

The evening had faded into a cool night that left you cuddled up with your boyfriend. The boat gently rocked along the dock and Hobie pulled you close. His arms were wrapped around your waist while your back pressed against his chest.

It had been a few hours since the two of you decided to head to sleep. Though, you hadn’t considered that Hobie would use that time to acknowledge the flowers you held out to him.

You didn’t know why you had woken up at that point. You were floating between the realm of slumber and consciousness, nothing truly made sense in that moment. Maybe something had shifted and startled you from your dreams, you didn’t know. If it weren’t for your very awake boyfriend behind you, you would’ve disregarded the memory and fallen back asleep.

Hobie had taken to fidgeting and rubbing the fabric of your shirt in between his fingers. They were nervous stims you’d recognized from your time with him, but you didn’t know what triggered his fit.

You were going to ask as soon as your mind let go of the remnants of your dreams.

Hobie released a heavy sigh as if he was building up his resolve for something. He shifted to press his forehead to the base of the back of your neck. Then, like a breath lost to the wind, he whispered:

“I love you.”

He released a shaky breath and pulled you closer to him.

Your mind let go of slumber with a swiftness that left you dizzy. Your heart felt like it couldn’t be contained in your chest any longer. You attempted to keep your breathing even as to not startle Hobie, because obviously this wasn’t something you were meant to hear just yet.

Tears burned at your eyes, so you shut them. Who knew how long he had been speaking those words to your sleeping frame, knowing you wouldn’t hear and wouldn’t say anything in return?

Had he been working up his nerve to finally say it? When had he decided to take the flowers you offered him?

Either way, you were willing to wait for him. The tears dripped from your eyes and slid down your cheeks. You smiled.

You loved him.

And he loved you.

Even now, when you struggled to breathe around the blood that filled up one of your lungs. Wind whipped around you as he swung you two through the city as fast as he could. His voice sounded desperate and way past hysterical, but you couldn’t understand any of it.

You had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You knew of Hobie’s secret life as Spider-man, or what he was lovingly called: Spider-Punk. It was dangerous work, keeping crime committed by the government low. But the police force took to using whatever means necessary to keep Hobie at bay, even if it meant fusing themselves with symbiotes and becoming animals.

They knew he cared about civilians, that he had a secret life where he was surrounded by people he cared about. It just so happened that the person he loved ended up being collateral damage.

You hadn’t meant to end up in the mix when you left the store, but you did. The pig had come out of nowhere, losing a fight against Spider-man, and decided you were perfect to change the outcome of the battle.

He bum-rushed you, sending you flying against the pavement, then grabbed you by the neck. You were confused, utterly disoriented. You never saw the pig coming. There were people screaming around you while others ran for their lives.

You gripped at the black, sticky wrist that held you and found yourself unable to breathe.

There was a shout and a very familiar mask entered your sight. 

The pig lifted you up and snarled, “Don’t come any closer, Spider-Punk.” His hand dug into your neck and you cried out, scratching at his hand.

“Ya fuckin’ tosser! Drop ‘em!” You hadn’t heard Hobie so pissed in a long time, it had been even longer since you’d heard the fear in his voice.

The pig retorted with something close to a derisive snort. His free hand morphed into something sharp and he went on about laying the law and how it was his job to deal out justice. Your ears rang in your head, you couldn’t understand a single thing. 

Then there was a blinding pain. Twice.

You’d been stabbed clean through the chest and abdomen.

You couldn’t remember what happened from there.

But now, you were choking and struggling to breathe. Hobie stopped swinging and leapt from somewhere you didn’t know. You went from staring up at the sky to being blinded by white lights. 

Through muffled hearing, you could hear Hobie plead with someone, begging them to help you. You were placed on something then surrounded by people in blue scrubs. Your head lolled to the side as blood poured from your nose and you reached out toward your masked boyfriend.

You knew he wanted to follow after you when you were rolled away, but someone demanded that he stay put. Still, you reached for him.

You couldn’t remember what happened from there.

After that, things were weird. You were stuck in your mind, unable to move your body. Your dreams were oddly vivid during this time.

You dreamt of whispered words in the middle of the night. You dreamt of flowers that blossomed in the palms of your hands. You dreamt of blades that cut into your soul.

When you weren’t dreaming, you stared into the eternal darkness behind your eyelids. Voices would stream past you, always out of reach and unintelligible. 

Then you would dream again. Someone would pour you two glasses, one filled with champagne while the other was filled with whiskey. You would always wait for the second person to arrive because why else would there be two glasses? 

But the person never came.

Even so, you enjoyed their colors. They were beautiful drinks. They made you long for Hobie.

When you finally woke up, there was a tube down your throat, helping you breathe. You hated it.

You peeled your eyes open and had to fight back the stinging you were met with. A displeased noise rang from your throat, albeit softly due to the tube. It should’ve been an amusing sight, watching your eyes blink rapidly from the little light that came from the room. But it wasn’t.

Everything was dark except for the light that illuminated above your bed.

Your eyes roamed around the room until they landed on Hobie. He was sitting in a chair at your bedside with his arms folded. His head lolled to the side as he breathed softly. He was asleep, but he looked worse for wear. 

How long had it been?

You slowly shifted your hand, noticing how much effort you had to put in for the tiny motion. Your body was sore, but you just needed Hobie to look at you with those eyes of his.

Every muscle from the top of your shoulder to your fingertips argued with you, telling you not to move. But why would you ever listen to them? You managed to reach your hand out to graze Hobie’s arm. You hoped it would be enough to wake him and it was.

With a sudden hitched breath, you were met with those amber eyes that you longed for so much. Hobie’s face fell as you watched disbelief flood his features. Then, there was an overwhelming grief that spilled from his eyes.

He said your name as if he didn’t think he’d be able to say it again and rose to his feet. Even in his excitement, he gently cradled your face and wept. Kisses were softly pressed against your face as his tears fell down your cheeks. You held the side of his face and let him cry. You didn’t understand what had warranted the grief to flow from him but it wouldn’t take long for you to find out.

Apparently, you were supposed to be dead. One of your lungs had collapsed while the other had filled with blood.

You were supposed to be dead. A week had passed during your medically induced coma and Hobie had sat with that. You didn’t know what the information had done to him, you couldn’t find out even if you asked.

The months that passed were filled with antibiotics and various medications you needed to properly return from the grave. Your wounds scarred and somehow, you were able to enter normal life again.

Even as time passed, that week haunted Hobie. He woke up in the middle of the night in cold sweats, clinging onto you as he silently cried. He had a hard time comprehending that you were okay, instead allowing something else to seep into his mind. 

You hadn’t known about the paranoia until it was too late. The flowers you had shared with him scared him, he couldn’t handle looking at them anymore. If you had known that he believed the flowers were too delicate to be shared with someone like him, you would’ve done something about it.

But, it wasn’t like you didn’t try.

You didn’t notice that Hobie had been acting differently at first. You wouldn’t say he had been distant, he still kissed you and gave you affection. Hell, he gladly attended your doctor appointments with you. You only began to notice when he reacted to your “I love you”s in a completely unexpected manner.

The moment you had uttered those three words, Hobie flinched as if you’d struck him. You didn’t know your words could have such an effect on him and you didn’t think he knew either. Oh, the words left a bitter taste in your mouth and opened up a pit in your stomach.

The two of you stared at each other, neither of you comprehending what this could’ve meant. Your heart raced as Hobie’s eyes searched your face for something you didn’t know. You turned away from him.

“Sorry,” you muttered. You hugged yourself and dug your fingers into your arms.

“It’s fine.” Was all he said.

While you sat with the bitterness in your mouth, you could feel your flowers grow thorns that dug into the scars on your hands. They didn’t bleed, not yet. Even so, you still loved him.

And he— 

You knew he loved you.

You didn’t doubt it even when the arguments began.

He had stopped being physical with you in public and you wanted to know why. Every time you asked, he dodged your question or he was vague about it. If you did get a somewhat reasonable answer, he would say that he just didn’t feel like it. You would’ve believed it as much as it hurt.

Hell, you would’ve understood if he hadn’t stopped whispering that he loved you in the middle of the night. You would stay awake waiting for those three words to leave his mouth and they never did. You spent those restless nights staring at the wall and wondering if he would ever say them again.

Where had you gone wrong?

The lack of sleep and the anxiety that plagued your very being made it oh so easy to pick a fight. You two would never outright yell at each other, but the fights only made everything worse.

Even so, you loved him. You loved him even when he flat out refused to go back and forth with you. You loved him even when he walked away from you. You fucking loved him even when your flowers died and turned into barbs that threatened to cut your skin.

And you… you knew he loved you. He loved you right? He had to have loved you at some point, right? He still did, right?

It all came to a head during a particular argument you two had in your apartment. You had finally, finally gotten an answer out of Hobie. An answer to why he was treating you the way he was. And that stupid fucking answer had set you off.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists. Everything was moving too fast, yet so slow at the same time. “What do you mean?!”

Hobie stood in front of you with an oddly calm expression on his face, but you could see the crease in between his brows. “S’not gon’ work between us. Ya not safe with me, ya get me?”

“No, I don’t get it! You do all of this because of that? What sense does that make, Hobie? You can’t do this to me— to us—” You choked up. Your breathing was erratic and it felt like your world was crumbling.

“(Y/N)—”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You were losing your mind. Things weren’t adding up. Things weren’t making sense.  “Why are you blaming yourself for what happened to me—”

“If my identity is revealed, you will get hurt. Tha’ fuckin’ pig didn’ even kno’ ya relation to me and ya nearly died. You are not safe with me.” His words were enunciated and firm, telling you that you weren’t going to win this. And that wasn’t fair.

“If I’m safe with anyone, it’s you! Don’t you get that? I wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t take me to the hospital!” Your words fell on deaf ears as he shook his head. 

“You’ll become a target eventually. ‘M not gon’ let tha’ happen. I can’t. ‘M endin’ this.”

“No. Stop it.” Blood rushed to your ears yet you ran cold. You latched onto Hobie’s vest and yelled, “Why are you doing this?! You’re not protecting me like this! So why—”

“‘Cause I love you. Tha’s why. I can’t let ya get hurt again.”

And there was that double-edged sword. Your flowers, your bouquet, it had tricked you from the very beginning and allowed the blade to return and slice open your hands. Yet, when you stared at the unshed tears in Hobie’s eyes, you knew that blood trickled down his hands too. 

It had been stupid to think you could morph that stupid sword into anything other than a blade designed to cut your hands.

“Hobie—” your voice shattered as your hands fell to your sides. “God, don’t fucking do this.”

“I—” he seemed to get stuck on the word. He shut his eyes. “I love ya too much to let this go on, lovely.”

Then, he stepped around you and headed for your door. Your voice caught in your throat as you realized that this— this was actually happening. You swore your grip tightened on that goddamned blade as you rushed after him. Before he could touch your door’s handle, you wrapped your arms around him and begged.

“Please don’t leave me. Please. Please, Hobie,” you hiccuped. “Please— I love you, Hobie. Please.” You sobbed into his jacket and dug your fingers into his shirt. You wept and pleaded, “Please don’t go.” 

That double-edged sword trembled in your grip as you willed it not to stab you in your gut.

You could feel Hobie’s breath hitch. The two of you stood there for a fleeting moment, then there were gentle fingers uncurling your fingers from his shirt. Hobie held onto one of them and turned around to face you.

Through your blurred vision, you could see tears sliding down his cheeks one by one. He brought your hand up and pressed a kiss to your palm. This time, no lipstick stained it. There was no reminder that the kiss ever took place. 

Even with the soft press of lips, your hands would continue to bleed well after the door shut behind him.

You stood there for a long time. Silent. At least until your legs gave out and you slowly fell to your knees, completely and utterly defeated by that double-edged sword. It had aimed for your gut and hit you in the heart. Your blood dripped like tears from your chest.

Once upon a time, you believed the gashes on your hands would heal, but you knew you wouldn’t come back from a stab in the heart.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there on your floor. Even so, as horrible as it sounded and as bitter of a taste it left in your mouth, you knew one thing:

You still loved him.

And he loved you.

would you believe me if I told you everything would be okay?

divider by cafekitsune :3

taglist: @hoe-bie

[kinascum]

ECHOES OF HIS TOUCH ⋆ ˚｡⋆

gale cleven x innocent!reader

wc: 1.7k | summary: gale's return home after years of war ignites a deeply emotional reunion, where love, longing, and healing intertwine in a moment of intense intimacy. | nav - taglist

18+ MDNI. emotional intensity. explicit content. themes of war. piv. virginity loss. fluff.

A/N! repost from my old account, which is now my personal account! feel free to peek @kinaslie

You stand in the crowded train station, the sound of distant trains and murmuring travelers a stark contrast to the quiet anticipation in your chest. It's been years since you've seen him, and the thought of his return sends a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. The digital clock above the ticket counter ticks away the seconds, each one feeling like an eternity as you wait for the moment Gale Cleven steps off that train.

As the metallic beast pulls into the station, the doors slide open with a hiss and a groan. A flood of soldiers, weary from battle, begin to spill out onto the platform. Each one carries the weight of untold stories etched into their faces. You scan the sea of uniforms, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. And then you spot him, his eyes locking onto yours through the throng. Gale's smile is like a beacon in the fog of war-weary faces, lighting up the gloomy station.

He strides towards you, the familiar lilt in his step that's somehow remained untouched by the horrors of war. His arms open wide, and without a word, you rush into his embrace. The fabric of his military jacket is coarse against your skin, but the warmth of his body envelops you like a comforting blanket. His scent, a mix of musk and distant lands, fills your nose. You breathe it in greedily, feeling like you've come home.

Tears stream down your face as you cling to him, your mind racing with the years that have passed and the fear that he might not have come back at all. Gale's grip tightens around you, his breath warm on your neck as he whispers reassurances. "I'm here," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "I'm home." His words are like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your fears and worries.

The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you standing in the noisy station. You pull back to look at him, your eyes searching his for any signs of the pain he must have endured. They're the same piercing blue you remember, but there's a depth to them now, a maturity that wasn't there before. He wipes a tear from your cheek, his thumb lingering for a moment before he takes your hand and leads you out of the station, into the blinding sunlight and the promise of a future you've both been fighting for.

You walk through the town, the familiar cobblestone streets feeling like a dream under your feet. His hand in yours is the only anchor you need. Each step feels like a silent dance, a ballet of two souls reunited after a long and perilous journey. The air is electric with the anticipation of what's to come, a slow burn that's been simmering between you for years. You've written letters, shared stories, and dreamed of this moment, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality of having him back.

You reach your small cottage on the outskirts of town, the ivy that climbs the walls a testament to the time that's passed. Gale looks around, his eyes taking in every detail, as if he's trying to memorize the sight of it. His gaze lingers on the porch swing where you used to sit together, sharing secrets and whispered promises. With a gentle tug, he leads you inside, the door creaking open to reveal a space that's remained unchanged, frozen in time. The sun filters through the lace curtains, casting a warm glow over the simple furnishings, highlighting the dust motes that dance in the air.

He sets his duffel bag down with a thud, and you watch as he moves through the rooms, his eyes lingering on photographs and knick-knacks that you've collected over the years. "It's just like I remembered," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You sit down at the kitchen table, the same one where you used to do homework together, and he pulls out a chair, sitting so close that his leg brushes against yours. He reaches out, tentatively at first, to touch your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb. His eyes are intense, searching for any hint of doubt or fear. "You're so beautiful," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

The air between you crackles with tension, the kind that comes from years of longing and a thousand unspoken words. You lean into his touch, your eyes closing as his hand moves to cradle the back of your neck. His mouth finds yours in a kiss that's tender and sweet, a promise of what's to come. It's a moment that feels like forever, a perfect encapsulation of every emotion that's built up within you.

Gale pulls back, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice a gentle whisper. You nod, unable to find the words to express the certainty that fills you. He smiles, a soft curve of his lips that reaches his eyes, and leans in again, this time with more urgency. His kiss is a declaration, a silent vow that you're ready to hear.

You stand, taking his hand, and lead him up the stairs to the bedroom you've shared so many times in your dreams. The floorboards creak beneath your feet, a nostalgic sound that seems to echo the beating of your hearts. As you reach the door, he stops you, turning you to face him. "I need to hear it," he says, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. "Tell me you want this."

The words come out in a rush, a breathless whisper. "I do. I want this, Gale. I want you." His eyes darken with desire, and he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you over the threshold. The room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the bed neatly made but untouched since he left. He sets you down on the mattress, his hands trembling slightly as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing the muscled chest that's seen so much.

He lays beside you, his hand tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hip. His touch is reverent, as if he's afraid you might shatter in his hands. You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb caressing the line of his jaw as you chuckle. "I'm not going anywhere."

The tension snaps like a bowstring, and he kisses you again, his hands roaming over your body with a gentle urgency. You feel the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart against your own. He takes his time, exploring every inch of you with his mouth and hands, worshipping you like the treasure you are. When he finally enters you, it's with a soft groan that mingles with your gasp of pleasure. The pain is brief, a fleeting reminder of the innocence you're leaving behind.

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, praising your beauty, your strength, your courage. You wrap your legs around him, holding on tight as he moves with a rhythm that feels like it's been written into your very soul. Each stroke is a promise, a declaration of love that's been forged in the fires of war and tempered by time. Your breaths mingle, your bodies joined in a dance that's both new and as old as the stars.

As you reach the pinnacle together, your cries of ecstasy fill the room, echoing through the quiet house like a battle cry of triumph. For a moment, the world stops, and all that exists is the two of you, intertwined in a web of passion and love. Gale holds you close, his breathing ragged, his heart racing against yours. He whispers your name like a prayer, his arms tightening around you as if he's afraid you might vanish.

And in that moment, you know that you've come home. That this is where you're meant to be, with this man who's seen the worst of humanity and still chooses to love you with all that he is. You lay in his arms, the sweetness of the moment lingering, the warmth of his embrace a cocoon around you. The world outside can wait, because right now, all that matters is the two of you, together again in the soft embrace of the night.

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | 11.7k | tags: pwp, friends to lovers, brief Steve/other, mutual pining, summary: Steve asks Eddie for help in fulfilling one of his fantasies. Eddie has no idea that he is the actual star of this fantasy | AO3)

“I have no idea where you get your weed but damn, this shit hits so much harder than the stuff I usually manage to score," Steve says, face pinched as he blows out the smoke, the pungent smell of it filling the small room, before handing it back to Eddie. They're sitting side by side on the bed, both holding beers, bodies already going lax against the mattress.

"You know I don't kiss and tell."

Steve snorts a laugh. "Since when? Just last week you got lost on a ten minute spiel about that guy giving you head during your lunch break dude."

Eddie’s eyes cut a sideways glance at Steve, lips already curling in a shiteating grin. “Yeah but we didn’t kiss, so my point still stands,” Eddie retorts, wiggling his eyebrows at Steve and they both burst out into high laughter. Steve's body tilts sideways into Eddie's, and instead of pushing him away, Eddie just adjusts his own position so they're leaning against each other more comfortably.

When their laughter subsides neither of them moves away, bodies too heavy with the weed and booze in their system. They’ve been friends for years and have found themselves in much more compromising positions. Friendly cuddling while high doesn’t even make the top ten, Eddie thinks lazily.

“So, anyone interesting happening since Lunch Break Guy?”

“I’m pretty sure his name was Matt. Or Mark? Something like that. And nah, had to help Wayne clean out my old room last weekend, remember? I’m still recovering from hauling boxes all day.”

“Awww did you haul them with your dick? Poor delicate flower.” Steve giggles at his own joke, petting at Eddie with the hand not holding the beer, movements already sluggish and uncoordinated. Steve is such a lightweight and Eddie wonders why he finds that so endearing.

“Asshole,” Eddie chuckles, swatting Steve’s hand away. “At least I didn’t hook up with a guy dressed up as Frankenstein."

"It was Halloween, Eddie." He can’t see his face but Eddie hears the eyeroll in Steve’s voice.

"Did you compare your freaking monster dicks?"

"You know we didn’t, you were the one walking in on us to make that exact same joke,” Steve snorts and Eddie feels it against the skin of his neck.

Once again, Eddie wonders if it's weird that they're so close. He knows Steve doesn't tell Robin half the shit he does when he's getting his rocks off, and they're platonic soul mates. He didn't tell Chrissy about Matt's? Mark's? tongue piercing, or how he swallowed about half of Eddie's load before he started coughing and got the rest all over their clothes, so Eddie had to call Steve to get him a change of clothes because he couldn't work in cum-stained jeans. And he's pretty sure that normal friends don't make out with each other when they get drunk or high either. But, like, whatever. Who needs normal when you can have Steve leaning on you like that, smelling of his expensive shampoo and weed.

Taking another hit from the blunt, Eddie holds the smoke in for a long moment, and just as he's about to blow it out, he feels Steve's hand on his jaw, turning his head down toward his open mouth, as if he'd been waiting for this very moment. So Eddie slots their mouths together and gives Steve what he wants, as he always does. Because it's Steve, and Eddie doesn't know how not to.

After they have both exhaled the smoke, Eddie gives Steve the blunt to put in the ashtray. Steve does so, but not before taking one last hit. It's their second joint of the night and they both feel it.

“What about you, Mr. Charming? Any new adventures I haven’t heard about?”

"I went to the Babylon the other day."

"Oh," Eddie says, drawing out the syllable as he looks down at Steve in surprise. "That's the one with a darkroom that has, like, another room behind it for the really kinky stuff, right?"

Steve laughs awkwardly, avoiding Eddie's eyes. "Yeah, that one, although I think that's a hoax."

"And how do you know that?" Eddie asks, before gasping dramatically, his hand pressed to his chest in mock indignation. "Steven! Did you go in the dark room?"

Instead of a snarky comeback, all Eddie gets is an almost timid nod.

Huh.

Steve almost never gets shy, didn't even blush when he walked in on Eddie eating out the bartender in their room when they went on vacation together last year. Simply told him to hurry up because he was tired before he went back outside.

Not in the least bothered by Steve's weird behavior, Eddie pokes Steve in his rips and asks excitedly, "How was it? Tell me everything."

He can feel Steve fidgeting where he's still pressed into Eddie’s body and he takes another sip of his beer before finally looking up at Eddie.

Steve's eyes are glassy from the weed, the white tinged with red and so dark they look bottomless, like Eddie could actually fall into them, lost forever. Fuck, Steve's right, the shit Rick sold him really hits hard.

"It was good. Like, really fucking good, y'know. Intense and, I dunno, a bit awkward at first, but then it was... yeah, just really good."

Eddie feels that Steve is not telling him something here. They may be high and buzzed, but that was a lot of good in Eddie's opinion. And Steve is still fidgeting.

"Sounds...good. You picked someone up at the club to fuck there?"

"Not...really."

As it turns out, Steve went in there alone, but he wasn't alone for long. Eddie listens with bated breath as Steve goes into more and more detail about dancing and drinking at the bar, about seeing people disappear behind a thick velvet curtain only to emerge long minutes later looking disheveled and satisfied. He tells Eddie about strolling over there himself, just to check it out so he could tell Eddie about it later, and about being surrounded by strangers, too dark to make out anything but the sounds of skin slapping against skin, ragged breathing, moans and whimpers filling the thick and humid air.

Eddie feels himself getting more and more turned on the longer he listens to Steve's low voice talking about lingering hands and mouths touching him everywhere, strangers grinding against him before he inevitably moved on. Eddie's already half hard, and when he looks down into Steve's lap, he sees the thick, hard outline of his cock in his sweatpants.

It's not as embarrassing as it should be. Steve has always been hot, Eddie has two functioning eyes and an active libido. It wouldn't be the first time he jerked off thinking about Steve, not even the first time Steve was present if asleep, but they never went further than a few heated make out sessions, sloppy kisses and some grinding before remembering their friendship and breaking apart.

Not that Eddie wouldn't drop everything and be on him in seconds if Steve asked, but that’s neither here nor there.

"And then this guy just grabbed me, he was strong and I wasn't expecting it, and then my face was pressed against the wall and he was on my back, rubbing against me, his dick thrusting against my ass, and -" Steve takes a deep breath and Eddie, realizing that he has been holding his breath all along, follows suit.

"And?" Eddie asks when the silence stretches.

Another deep inhale before Steve goes on. "And it was really hot, like, I've never been so hard in my life. I wanted him to, y'know, use me, just, uh, pull my jeans down and fuck me without me being able to do anything. Just… Making me take it, getting off fucking me and then walking away like I’m just some, I dunno, toy with his cum dripping out of me."

Eddie was biting his lip so hard he was sure he'd taste blood any second, but it was the only way he could hold back the moan that was trying to crawl out of his mouth. His dick had gone from half hard to so hard it almost hurt, and he was seconds away from pushing down his own sweats and jerking off to the way Steve talked about being used.

"But then, I don't know, my brain, like, panicked, and I pushed him off, and ran out of the room before I even knew I was going to do it."

Steve is decidedly not looking at Eddie, which is good, because Eddie has no idea what his face must look like right now. Probably as destroyed as he feels. He's pretty sure Steve has seen the way his sweats are tenting by now, but considering how obscenely Steve's dick is stretching the fabric of his own pants, Eddie thinks Steve doesn't have a leg to stand on. Eddie also felt the way Steve's hips squirmed as he recounted the way those strangers in the darkroom had touched him.

The silence between them grows and grows, sitting heavy on his chest, so Eddie clears his throat and asks, "So - was it, I mean," he exhales loudly, "did you, uh, like it?" Steve looks up at him, surprised by the question, and Eddie clarifies, "I mean before you panicked and ran out. Everything before that."

Chewing on his lower lip, Steve considers his questions and the air between them is so thick that Eddie feels like he's drowning. He swallows and watches, transfixed, as Steve's Adam's apple also bobs, a bead of sweat sliding past it as it moves.

"I mean, yeah. I did. It was hot, man, like I said. Especially the... the way they were just touching me, taking what they wanted. I didn't even know that I, uh, wanted that?” It isn’t often that Steve sounds unsure, at least when it comes to sex and hookups. So when Eddie hears his voice waver like that, like Steve is embarrassed to want something, his instincts to comfort and help start screaming at him.

Before he can do anything about it, like pull Steve against him and tell him it’s okay, Steve keeps going. “But it was too much… Too, I dunno, surprising? Like, I really wanna do that again, but like, with some precaution. So it feels safe and I can, uh, let go or something. Not panic again because that sucked man.”

Steve finishes his beer and drops the empty bottle on the floor next to Eddie's bed. Usually he would bitch about it, just because it's what he always does, but tonight is not like most of their ‘boys’ nights’, as Robin calls them mockingly. Eddie is a little lost and a lot turned on right now and he thinks it would be best for him if their conversation ended here.

If only it was that easy when you have the impulse control of a toddler and can’t leave things very well alone.

"But you fucked strangers before. Like two weeks ago I watched you pick up some random guy to fuck in your car before coming back in for another beer. I helped you get out the cum stains the next day, too."

"I know, I know. It's not that. It's - you remember Clive?"

"Ugh, that asshole." Eddie says with feeling.

Steve chuckles against Eddie's neck and moves even closer, soothing Eddie's annoyance with the contact. God, but he hated that guy who had treated Steve like shit. He had been mean and condescending, and Steve had always looked subdued, almost small, in the days after their hookups.

"Yeah, that one. You hate him, he was a dick, I know. But he, well. He fucked me like this once, pinned me down on the bed, caged me in, ass up, face pressed into the pillow so I could barely breathe, and pounded me so hard I was covered in bruises the next day. Said some nasty shit too, man, and I felt so dirty but also so fucking turned on that I came without a hand on me.”

Steve squirms and fidgets next to him, his body moving against Eddie's in small increments, and Eddie thinks Steve doesn't even realize he's doing it, lost in his memories and the typical weed horniness. "I want this, but, y'know, like, with more."

Eddie actually chokes on his spit at that, stammering, "More?"

"Yeah," Steve says, pushing his face into Eddie's neck like that's the last straw, the thing that's too embarrassing to say out loud. "Like, when I think about it, I'm completely helpless. Hands tied, legs spread with a bar so I couldn't close them even if I wanted to.”

Eddie can't help it, he's got to do something or he'll actually die of Steve-induced sexual frustration. He shifts slightly on his right side, towards Steve, so that he can push his left leg over his right, pressing it down enough to relieve at least some of the pressure. Still, the sensation of any kind of friction against his aching dick makes him clench his hands into fists, his whole body tense.

His next words sound strained to his own ears. "So why not... do it with someone else? I mean, I've seen you at clubs and parties, Stevie, you'd have no problem finding someone willing to do, uh, that."

"True. But it doesn't feel safe. What if, y'know, the guy is, like, a serial killer or something? I've watched enough crime shows with you to know that happens!"

Eddie doesn't say anything, just takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Because seriously, Steve is right, it's super fucking risky and if he's honest, he doesn't want to think about Steve in that kind of danger. He'd go crazy worrying about him.

They're both silent and Eddie's thoughts are racing, the mellowness that usually comes with getting high gone. Replaced by more and more images of Steve flashing behind his eyelids.

Steve on a bed, Steve bent over a table, Steve on some faceless guy. Hands and mouths and teeth all over Steve’s body, his beautiful hazel eyes wide and wet, his face slack with pleasure. His gorgeous dick dripping with need.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

"Can you be there?"

His thoughts come to a screeching halt as his eyes widen in shock. What?

"What?"

"Well, no one would try anything if someone was looking out for me. Also, I could let go knowing you're there. I know you'll keep me safe."

Which, yeah. Eddie would. He would always make sure Steve was safe. It's himself, his heart, that he doesn't trust to be safe when he's there.

"What are you saying here, Steve?"

"I dunno, just that when I think about it. Think about being naked and tied to a bed, all helpless and shit, and there is some guy fucking me however he wants. Use me however he wants… I just. I want that, been thinking about it so much since that night at the Babylon. And you're always..." Steve's hand clenches and unclenches against Eddie's arm. "I want you there. To watch out for me. Make sure I'm still safe, that he doesn't really hurt me. Like, y'know, a safety blanket."

Jesus fucking Christ. He'll never let Steve near his weed again. Not if it ends with Steve tucked into his side, that familiar heat spreading from all the places their bodies touch, both hard in their sweatpants, while Steve talks about Eddie being his goddamn safety blanket while he gets railed by a stranger.

Still, Steve so rarely asks for anything that Eddie wants to do this for him, as fucked up as it sounds. He’s always been a freak and it seems Steve’s right there with him.

Before Eddie can make up his mind, however, Steve lifts his head and chuckles in a way that sounds forced. "Sorry, never mind, it's the weed talking, just forget it."

With that, he untangles himself from Eddie and stands up, his hard dick very obviously tenting his sweats as he turns away from the bed and towards the door. "I'm gonna get another beer, you want one?"

Looking at Steve's back and the tense line of his shoulders, Eddie says, "Yeah, sure.”

Read the rest on AO3

[cinnabun-faerie]

Obey Me! Side Characters: They see your fangs for the first time

A/N: Day two of Frightfest! I'm a little unsure about Mephisto, Raphael and Thirteen, but I wrote them how I think they would react

Warning: Mention of blood, cause vampire

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Luke, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephisto

Frightfest Masterlist

he happily asks to see your fangs

he is so excited when you show him

"Oh what sharp fangs you have!"

asks if they're real even though he's sure that they are

but there was always a chance that they were fake, especially since Leviathan was good at getting convincing costumes and prosthetics

He would ask if he could touch them

if he bleeds, he will only chuckle and tell you not to worry

it was his honor after all to be bitten by you

would offer his blood to you whenever you need it

He knew about your fangs

of course, he did

oops!

looks like he was careless and now he's bleeding from touching them

oh, what to do?

he is very aware that you are practically hypnotized by the smell of his blood

and now he is holding your face to get you to open your mouth

when he sees your fangs, he smiles

"I'd hate for your pretty fangs to get dirty, but you thirst for my blood don't you? Then drink, my dear. But once you have a taste of my blood, you cannot drink from another."

When he sees your fangs, it's when you let out a big yawn

he couldn't deny how cute you looked

and the fangs just added to it

"How long have you been a vampire, Y/N?"

"Practically my whole existence."

He might even willingly offer his blood to you, should you need to drink

He asked to see them so you oblige

but he's a bit clumsy and accidentally pricks his finger on your sharp fang

when you taste him and go for more without thinking, he shoves a devildom-blood-flavored-Capri Sun in your face

"Humans are friends, not food."

"Sometimes friends taste friends."

"Are those real?"

When you tell him, he starts freaking out a little but

you're not going to bite him, right?

No? Good.

Don't even think about biting Simeon either!

What he doesn't have to know is that you already drink from a willing Simeon

"You have fangs? Sick!"

You were interesting before, but now you're even more interesting

she suggests that you drain all of Solomon's blood

but she doesn't know you already drink from him

at least then maybe she might be closer to getting his soul

Honestly, he probably didn't notice at all, he just goes about his day

you just look like you

nothing out of the ordinary

you would have to actually show him your fangs for him to really notice

"Oh, you're a vampire? I didn't know there were any in the Devildom."

He would ask how a previous human like yourself ended up this way

"Don't even come near me with those!"

he doesn't like your fangs at all

especially if they're going to pierce into his skin

Threatens to go to Diavolo if you try to bite him

he can't shut up about how bad he probably tastes

but is offended when you say you'll go bite Diavolo or Lucifer instead and backtracks

He insists that his blood tastes better than Lucifer's

[bravo4iscool]

Levi Baby🖤

The way I adore you for pairing Simon with a Chubby girl. I bring a thot to you if you're interested:

Bodyguard!Simon Ghost Riley x chubby f!reader

- He's newly retired , gets asked for a favor from Price for a friend's kid

- Said kid is a mid 20's thicc woman who is all business since she's a lawyer in Human Rights and involved with the UN.

- He thinks she's going to be a snob based off looks bc girl loves to dress and she does it well, she observes Simon as he is. Brooding, Haunted and Self Assureed with a drizzle of dark humor but loyal.

- They get off on the wrong foot [Simon was being an irrational ass forgetting his manners and respect], reader isn't scared of him and doesn't take lightly to being disrespect3d for no apparent reason.

- They're holed up living together under the radar since the thr3at to reader was pretty big seeing it was world leaders

- They're going to have to learn to live with each other, where Simon barks orders - reader is anamused and calmly condescends. He can't even get annoyed bc she's antisocial and a houseplant but he's trying

- doesn't help that he's so.so attracted to her.

*make this as suggestive as you want (give ghost heart attacks with her choice of home clothes please. We know he's touch straved, emotionally constipated and needed a therap session.

Make her stress him out by confronting all of that in her short fiery demon way please.

I hope your new year is sweet Love💋

oh lord. oH LORD. how can you write this and not think about me fainting😭 THIS IS- URGH- AMAZING AHHHQGACQGQVQZQZAVQ!!!!

i hope i can do this justice😭 normally i try to imitate simon’s accent but bro… i was just too tired to do it now, so i hope you can forgive me for that🥲

KEEP HITING ME WITH STUFF LIKE THIS OH MY GOD😩

not really happy but i tried my best :) also not proof-read!

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

“There’s no but’s!” Simon argues while almost dragging you—his protégée—along the hallway inside the safe house. “You’re in danger and it’s my job to protect you!”

“I’ve been perfectly fine on my own before,” you argue, trying your best to wriggle away from his grip. You hated it when he manhandled like that.

He turns around, his eyes fiercely staring down at you and you feel like they’re piercing through your soul. “Have you ever had the Taliban threaten you, huh? Or fucking ISIS? I don’t think so; so stop whining and follow me!”

You want to argue with him, tell him he’s not allowed to talk to you that way but damn, you knew he was right. Ever since you started working for the UN you’ve been threatened—you were getting used to it—but only by small groups not someone like the Taliban.

“We’re gonna stay here until the threat is eliminated for not serious anymore.” His statement leaves little room to argue but you’re itching to say something anyway. It’s wasn’t your nature to just shut up. You were a lawyer, you were used to arguing.

You grimace as you force yourself to accept your fate. You didn’t want to but in the end you knew Simon was right. So, you follow him, an annoyed look on your face. You hated it when he was right.

“It’s only temporary,” he grumbles as he kicks a door open and pushes you inside. “It’s not like I want it, okay?”

You only roll your eyes, throwing a halfhearted ‘whatever’ at him and inspecting the room he hauled you into. “This is where I’m gonna stay?” you ask him, a slight hint of defeat in your voice.

“Pretty much, yes. I’ll be on the other side of the hallway,” he explains, leaning against the door frame. “In case anything happened, of course,” he immediately adds; just so you don’t get a…wrong picture of this whole thing here.

“We got wifi here?” is you next questions when you turn to look at him, your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“No wifi. No contact to the outer world,” is his answer and you feel your blood start to boil.

“You have to be kidding me! How am I supposed to work then?” You throw your hands in the air, letting out an angry huff. “You can’t just cut me off civilisation!”

He only shrugs. “I can and I will. Work can wait, alright? Your life is more important now.” Again his voice leaves no room to argue but this time you won’t take it. You put your hands on your hips, looking up at him.

“You think that’s how it works? Then, please Lieutenant Riley,” you spit out his rank “fly over to the dozens of war criminals and tell them to stop too! Oh wait-“ you act shocked. “That’s not how it fucking works! You can’t expect me to sit still and look pretty while the world drowns in injustice!”

“Would make things a lot easier tho,” he mumbles under his breath while pushing himself off the door frame. “Just…do something that doesn’t require wifi or anything like that, alright?” Before you can even think of an answer he leaves, shutting the door behind him. Why the hell was he treating like some little child?

~

“How old is she?” Simon wants to know as he hands his old Captain the picture of you back. He’s sat on a chair, his legs spread, one arm resting on the back rest.

“Mid 20s,” Price answers, placing his folded hands onto the table. “She needs security and her father’s not really…trusting the usual companies; and since you’re nearly retired I thought you could use the job.” Simon holds Price’s gaze and nods along. “He trusts me, therefore he trusts you. She’s a lawyer, heavily associated and involved with the UN and human rights.”

“What are the details?” Simon slightly tilts his head, curiously raising his eyebrows.”

“24/7 protection. The full package. You’ve done it before,” Price explains and Simon once again nods along. “Before you take the job tho-“ he pauses. “She’s, well… she’s a lawyer Simon. You need to know what you get into.” The Captains gaze hardens, his back straightening. “She won’t like that she’s on protection detail, therefore she’ll be treating you like that.”

Simon only smirks, flipping his well kept coin between his fingers. “There’s nothing I can’t handle John. I’ve met people like that before and I was perfectly fine.”

Now Price was the one smirking while shaking his head. “I know and I don’t question your abilities but she’s a civilian—the one you’re protecting. You can’t handle this the way you’ve handled other subjects before.”

“I know what I’m getting into,” Simon assures in a calm tone definitely not knowing what he was getting himself into.

~

“Fucking hell,” Simon mutters when he first sees you. You’re walking straight to you office—the one he was sitting in—involved in a heated talk with that seemed like your secretary.

He’s able to make out single words but well, his hearing wasn’t the best anymore after nearly 20 years of military service. And now he thinks he probably should’ve stayed in the field.

The way you’re waking and talking and dressing just screams ‘snob’ at him. He slightly lowers his head to gaze at you, once again playing with his coin. Maybe he should’ve declined the offer and taken on the underground wrestling instead. Would’ve been more fun for sure.

As soon as you spot your guest you send your secretary away, bracing yourself for the following conversation. You weren’t a fan of getting security and you definitely weren’t a fan of the fact that it was a friend of your father’s friend and he—apparently—was everything but easy.

“Lieutenant Riley,” you greet him, extending your hand to him. When he stands up to his full height you slightly crane your neck; the professional smile still on your face.

“Ma’am,” he greets in a gruff voice, the skin of his hand raw and calloused as he return the handshake. “Pleased to meet you.” He isn’t. He just wants to leave but he brought this on himself so he needs to finish it now. ‘One year’, he told himself. ‘Then I can quit.’

“I can only return the pleasure,” you smile, clearing your throat. “Would you mind sitting down at my desk?” You ask, pointing towards said desk. “I think it’s easier to discuss business over there.”

Simon agrees, towering over you as he makes his way over to one of the chairs in front of the desk. You take place behind it, carefully straightening your blouse. He needs to warn himself not to stare. Fuck, why were you so pretty? A pretty little snob…

~

“This has to be taken seriously!” Simon raises his voice at you, successfully blocking the door of your office.

“This is nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you argue with him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “So please, Simon, let me get out of my office and back to work.”

He huffs, “Not a change. You’ll be staying here until the threat is cleared.” He glances over his shoulder, loving and hating the fact that you had a glass office. “Are these bullet prove?” he asks, looking at you again.

You sigh, “No.”

“We’ll have that changed,” he immediately answers and you start to shake your head.

“We’ll have nothing changed! You weren’t hired to renovate my office!” You walk towards him. “Now, Mr. Riley, please step aside so I can continue working.”

“Not happening.” He straightens up to his full height, expecting you to back off but you do the exact opposite. You swat your finger at him, looking up.

“I don’t care what you think, you will stay here; if you want it or not.” His voice is stern and stoic and you need to do your best to not full on scream at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” you hiss, your index finger jabbing his chest. “I can make my own decisions, I’m a responsible adult. So don’t you dare talk down to me that way!”

When Simon doesn’t make a move you let out an angry huff and shake your head. Then you turn away and stalk towards your desk. “Fucking military man,” you curse under your breath, ignoring the way he stared you down.

~

You stare at your open suitcase, debating what to wear. On the one hand, you kinda were on your own, on the other hand, Simon was with you.

You were comfortable in your body—no question—you actually kinda liked the extra cushions but sometimes you felt like Simon was staring at you. Like he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you and that made you…feel something. Something you were afraid of.

“Ah fuck it,” you say under your breath, fishing out some shorts and a shirt. You could care less about what Simon thinks. You both are only work related. Nothing else.

You tap down the stairs, walking straight into the kitchen. “You want something to eat?” You ask Simon, glancing at him when you hear him enter.

“You willing to make some?” he jokes, expecting you to say ‘no’ but when you say ‘yes’ his eyes widen and he pauses for a second. When you notice it you let out a small chuckle, opening the fridge and multiple cabinets to see what you could make.

“Any friends that’ll miss you?” he asks once you place a plate in front of him, looking up at you with curious eyes.

You shake your head, “Nope. Not really.” You sit down opposite of him, grabbing your fork. “Too busy to have friends.”

He tilts his head, blindly picking up the food either his fork. “No boyfriend?” He knows you don’t have one. You have no dates, no flings, nothing; but he wants to hear it from you. Maybe then his fantasies wouldn’t be so forbidden…

“Please,” you laugh. “We’d be divorced before we even married.” You take a sip of water and look at him. “I don’t have time for relationships and that kind of stuff. I have a target to pursue. Ain’t no time for distraction.”

He only nods in an understanding manner, playing with his beer bottle. “And you?” you ask. “You got someone?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’ve got you to deal with. That’s enough.” He smirks when he sees your facial expression, letting out a low chuckle. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” he continues joking. “But no. I don’t have anyone. Never really had.”

“Oh…” you say in an almost pitiful tone and he hates it. It not that he couldn’t get someone. He just didn’t want to. That’s a big difference. “Well not really different for me,” you then snort, slightly grimacing. You had this one guy ask you out for prom but that turned out to be a bet rather fast and after than you decided to not to date in school or university anymore.

Yeah sure, you were more chubby than other girls but that doesn’t mean that you’re not lovable, right? By now you were comfortable in your body—you were in your mid 20’s—but sometimes you felt yourself slipping back into the insecure girl you once were. The one who thought that no man would ever lay his eyes on her in a lustful or loving manner.

Simon’s itching to say something; to ask why you don’t have anyone… You’re perfect. You’re nice—even if he hated to admit it. You’re pretty, you’re so fucking soft… Did the men around you not see that?

“Simon?” You wave your hand around in front of his face, chuckling when he slightly flinches, his pupils blow. “Are you alright?” you carefully ask, eying him as if something was wrong.

But he only clears his throat, “Yes. Everything’s fine.” Then he hastily stands up and nods at you. “Thank you for the food.”

You watch after him as he leaves, a frown on your face. Was he really okay or was he just lying to you?

Simon on the other hand was probably turning red as a tomato. How could he allow himself to slip like that? Fuck, he needed to keep himself better under control.

As soon as he reaches his room he shuts the door and leans against it while opening his pants with shaking hands.

He had a—growing—problem and he needed take care of it. Now.

-

Approximately one week into the lockdown Simon finds you in the living room, crouched over a bunch of files and documents.

“What’s that?” he wants to know, looking over your shoulder.

“Work,” you simply reply, taking notes and pushing the papers around. You were so close, this close to finally finish this case but something was missing and it stressed you out.

He slowly nods, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And how did you manage to get these files?”

“I’m a lawyer Simon. I have my ways and connections,” is your plain answer and you can basically feel him tensing behind you.

“What if they give away your location,”

“They won’t.”

“How can you be sure?” He tries his best to be calm but god, you were testing his nerves. He gave you strict orders and you were supposed to follow them.

You turn around with an annoyed sigh, looking up at him. “Because my father brought me those. You think he would sell me out to the enemy? I doubt so.”

You raise your eyebrow, waiting for any other complaint by him but be only looks at the files behind you, then at you again. “Maybe check the mission reports of the special forces.” With that he leaves you alone, more than confused.

You know why Simon told you what he told you when you find what you need exactly there. The mission reports were sitting somewhere beneath everything else because you didn’t pay much attention to them; in the end they were the solution.

Now you could finally link the crimes to someone and with that to the government or the military at least.

The next time you see Simon you almost jump into his arms, thanking him over and over again. “Now the case is finally closed,” you tell him with a big grin on your face, completely forgetting that you’re usually not so happy when around him.

Simon just awkwardly pats your back, pushing you off him and ignoring the burning desire deep within him. He knew it was risky to give you a tip but you were struggling and he didn‘t like that. He just hoped that you wouldn’t ask him why he knew that you should look at the mission reports. Once you knew that he was a war criminal this job would be over. And while you certainly were a pain in the ass sometimes he felt a very present attraction towards you.

-

Simon realises he’s a goner when he wakes up one morning and sees you walking around in a shirt. Just a shirt, as far as he can see and it does something to you. His hands are itching to touch you and he finds himself excusing himself more and more to the bathroom.

And you? You started to notice the kind of power you have over him and it makes you boast with pride. You, a chubby little lawyer in your mid 20s, has him, an almost 40 year old retired military Lieutenant, wrapped around your little finger.

After that you decide to play a little game. Wouldn’t hurt, no? Just subtle touches. Brushing his arm when you walk past him, patting his chest when he helps you with something, your legs touching his whenever you sit beside him.

He tries to shrug it off but you can practically feel how worked up he gets and how hard it is for him to keep him shit together; and that fuels you only more. How long would it take for him to break? To crumble beneath your touch, huh? You wanted, no, you needed to find that out.

Simon knows what you were doing. He isn’t stupid but he hates it. How was he so weak that you were able to play with him like that?

After a week, maybe two of you dancing around him he has you caged in against the kitchen counter, towering over you.

“What makes you think you can just play with me like that, huh?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes scanning your face for any reaction. “You think it’s funny? Working me up like that every day?”

You try not to be intimidated—or turned on—by him but god, he’s just- you don’t have any words for it. He’s tall, broad and fucking strong. You once got a look at the muscles under all his clothes and you weren’t the same after that. Nu-uh.

“I thought you like it,” you reply with a cocky grin, trying to overshadow your uncertainty. “Do you want me to stop?” You blink at him, acting all innocent and pure. In the corner of your eye you see his grip on the counter tightening. Oh, you had him where you wanted him.

A ‘bloody hell’ is all you get before his lips crash down onto yours and he heaves you on top of the counter. His hands find their way to your hips, scarred fingers tracing them and squeezing, wanting to pull you even closer.

The moment his lips touch yours you forget everything else. This is want you wanted—needed—for weeks. And lord, that man knew what he was doing.

You weren’t a fan of him dragging and pushing you around but right now? Right now you couldn’t wish for anything else. You bury your hands in the dirty kind strands of hair on the back of his head, gently pulling at them which results in him groaning in your mouth.

“Take me to the bedroom and maybe I’ll stop teasing you,” you breathlessly tell him once he breaks the kiss only to kiss you again immediately making you all hot and tingly.

You can feel him smirk against his lips before they trail down your neck towards your collar bone. “Ain’t gonna take you anywhere love,” he whispers and you’re able to once again feel him smirk against your skin. “Gonna fuck you right here on that kitchen counter. You want that?” he looks up at you through hooded eyes, which makes you swallow.

“Words love, words.” His tone is playful even tho you can see the desperation in the way his hands move all over your body, letting you see stars already.

“Yes…please,” you almost choke out, feeling like everything you want to say is being swallowed my your throat again. You’re unable to talk.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Simon teases, straightening up to kiss your lips again, cupping your cheek. “Gonna take good care of you,” he promises. “I’m gonna show you how a real man treats you,” he swears and you can feel a familiar but also unfamiliar heat building in the pit of your stomach.

(i got scared to write the rest👍🏼. i’m sorry, i’m still new to writing smut😭)

[queenoffishingandcookies]

Thinking on the first shower Noctis took, post-crystal.

He wakes up, and he has to know on some level that quite some time has passed, even before he reaches Galdin Quay. The scratch of facial hair on his chin, the way his hair is longer and tickles his chin now when it shouldn't have, the accumulated grime - dust and dirt and traces of black soot and gray ash on his fatigues - on his skin and clothes from the struggle in Zegnatus Keep and then a decade in stasis.

I'm not sure if the crystal just up and deposited him on Angelgard, because while Noctis was sucked into it in his entirety - we don't know of the divide between his soul/mind, and his actual body, and there's something so grim in thinking about Noctis himself was in the crystal, absorbing centuries of power, while his body is left in Angelgard.

That also, to me, makes more sense as to why Gentiana and Umbra would be there, guarding him, and later - a la Comrades expansion - the surviving Glaives.

Noctis himself wasn't there, but his body was.

Imagine the feel of that. Ten years worth of grime, or nearly.

I say nearly, and maybe it's just my bleeding heart for how Gentiana does care about Luna, and in turn how Luna cares for Noctis, but there's something very tender and bittersweet in the thought of Gentiana - the messenger and Astral in one - trying her best to keep Noctis healthy during that long decade, like sponge bathing to keep the worst off him.

If anyone had direct access to Noct, it would be her.

It wouldn't be the same as a proper bath, or real exercise, but it would be something - keeping of muscular atrophy and maintaining his hygiene as much as possible (as well as whatever crystal fuckery is going on besides Bahamut's revelation, because the amount of issues Noct should have woken up with makes no small list).

Noctis wakes up, and he walks the trail Umbra paves for him, to the shores of Angelgard - and the royal vessel is waiting there for him. Aged, probably worn, but there to bring him back to the mainland. Back to Lucis.

We never see the interior of the Royal Vessel, but there's probably bedrooms - and probably a bathroom. Considering Noctis would probably be more focused on driving the yacht itself, rather than stopping, it'd be unlikely for him to enter the bathroom - but the thought of him looking into a mirror, and looking at himself, so changed from what he remembers being...

It carves the strongest feeling of loss, down to the roots of my heart in my chest because - Noctis is grown. He's fully grown, a man, and yet - not. Ten years were stolen from him, and he wouldn't even know yet. Not until running into Talcott.

There's so much of his father in his face, but his father is dead. His father never got the chance to see Noctis grown up in life, never would have gotten the chance with the strain of the wall and the magic of their bloodline sucking his life away.

His father, who at the end of it all, would be forced to deliver the final blow which severed Noctis from his body once more.

Permanently.

I think it might be even worse, though. For Noctis to first see himself in the mirrors of Talcott's van. In glimpses, but never as a whole, because it's so damn dark and the sun hasn't risen - hasn't pierced the clouds of miasma - for near ten years.

If there was anywhere he'd be able to see his face, it would be at Hammerhead. Hammerhead, where his retinue was waiting - Prompto, and Gladio, and Ignis (who would, just like Regis, be unable to bear witness to Noctis growth).

They're all different, too. Gladio, with longer hair and more scars to count. Prompto, with a goatee a tad longer than Noct's stubble and facing down Daemons with more practice and experience. Iggy, who can't see, but learned to cook and fight again, with more lines on his face and scars on his hands from where others had helped guide weaponry or cookery away from himself before he had adjusted -

Then, Iggy being the exception (except for the visions in Altissia), they are the first people to see his face, besides Umbra, besides Gentiana, Talcott, the Glaives...

There's the feel of water dousing his hair, rolling down his spine and over his body, and it's not hot or cold - but lukewarm. People in and out of Hammerhead now, the power that goes into heating water needed elsewhere. The scent of bland soap, without any real fragrance. Clear water running dark down a drain as he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs - and he gets out, and he gets dressed in attire fit of a king.

A warrior, heading to war. A man, mortal and yet to become not, preparing to make a declaration to the heavens themselves not in words, but his own spilled blood staining the throne once built off of it.

Just. Noctis waking up after the crystal.

Feelings.

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> general, y/n gets told she talks too much kind of, discussion abt cheating

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER THREE -> AM I IN? (partially written! wc:546)

"...and then, after telling him how much I love him, he comes out of our shared- yes, shared- bedroom with another woman! Can you believe that? I pour my heart and soul to this man, and he just steps all over it! Them? My heart and my soul, so, yeah, I guess them. Sorry, what was the question again?"

"...what do you do for work?" The guy on the right side of the couch says, arms crossed.

You blink. "Right! I'm a graphic designer for a website."

"What website?" Beomgyu leans back, arms behind his head.

"This Just In!" You say excitedly, passionate about your work. "I'm trying to move into the journalism area as well. I'd love to be able to interview some of the people we do, but my boss didn't seem very keen to the idea yet."

"How come?" The one in the middle asks.

"He says I talk too much." A sudden wave of emotion hits you. "My boyfriend says the same."

"Ex-boyfriend."

"What?"

"Your ex-boyfriend." It's the one on the right again, eyes piercing into you; you can't hold his gaze.

"Right." You clasp your hands in your lap. "Maybe I've overshared a bit to you guys. I don't even know your names-" You point at the two.

"Han," the middle one offers. "Well, Jisung, but most people call me Han."

"Minho." You still can't look at him.

"Okay. Um, so, unless you have any other questions...?"

"Yeah, actually," Minho speaks. "What's your current living situation?"

"Oh! I'm living with my best friend, Hyunjin, and his roommates. But they're all models and it can be a bit... dramatic." You laugh nervously.

"Models?" Han sits up straight, looking at his two roommates. "What are the others like?"

"There's Felix, a literal sunshine, and Yeonjun and Wooyoung. They're usually the ones causing drama." You laugh again, this time more naturally. "Wooyoung just came back from a business trip, so I'm gonna be staying in my other best friend's, NingNing, she's amazing and I love her, apartment until she comes back. She's also a model... I'm friends with a lot of models."

"Do you mind stepping out for a second?" Han says with a smile. Your stomach drops. "I just need to discuss something with my roomies here."

"Y-yeah, okay." Quickly, you pick up your bag and head to the door, only stumbling a little bit.

Of course, you press an ear to the door once outside. If they don't want you, at least you'll know before they tell you to your face. Then maybe you won't cry at the news. The thick wooden door makes it hard to hear, only picking out bits and pieces.

"Dude, her best friend is a model-"

"Han, I swear to God-"

"She does talk a lot-"

"Like you're one to talk-"

"Okay, but with the breakup? Won't she be, like, crying all the time-"

"Hey, Min just went through a breakup too, so maybe she can help him with it-"

"Shut up-"

"Back to her best friend being a fucking model-"

A loud sigh signals you should back up, taking your phone out and pretending to be busy. The door opens, Minho in front of the other two looking more tired than before you left.

"You're in."

notes -> what is with me making idols i love into shitty exs like what is with that genuinely

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @taeriffic @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[jadoue1999]

The monsters in the shadows

Part 1 Part 2

Note: Hey guys!! Here is the first part of my fae!Steve and Vampire Eddie story! I had to split it in two parts because of how long the story is but the next part should be posted on Tuesday. I hope you enjoy it!

Summary:

“Hey there, big boy,” he says, trying to coax a reaction out of his prisoner.

“Hi,” simply answers Harrington. There’s something weird with the teen. His voice sounds different from what he remembers it to be; less pitchy, more authoritative. Kas feels obligated to listen. Moreover, Harrington looks… Different, taller, his features are sharper than usual. His eyes feel like they're piercing whatever soul he has left. He doesn’t focus on that, charting the changes to his recent transformation.

Somewhere far within himself, he notices Harrington’s neck, it’s smooth and unblemished, and yet something tells him that the strangulation scar should still be there.

Or: Eddie wakes up as a monster, but it seems like he may not be the only one.

Words: 3635

Part 1

The day Eddie Munson dies, it’s not the end. Well, it is for Eddie, but not for what now resides in his body.

He calls himself Kas.

Kas is Creel’s loyal soldier. He starts out without a name, and one cause: killing anyone that ventures too close to the gates. This task is easily completed, thanks to his now increased strength, speed, and agility. He does so well in fact that he is promoted in no time to be Creel’s right-hand man, and in the process, a deep part of him whispers his new name: Kas. He gains new abilities with his new rank, namely the ability to control the vines, the bats, and all the creatures connected to the hive mind.

The first time he sees someone from the gang Eddie used to consider his friend, he freezes. It’s Robin, the clumsy one, and she freezes too when they lock eyes. She eyes him up and down and notices his scarlet red eyes and his darkened fingers. There’s no mirror in the Upside Down, but Kas knows he looks like a corpse. 

“Eddie?” Breathes out the girl. “Is that really you?”

He grins, showing his fangs and delights when she steps back in fear. “It’s Kas now, actually.”

Buckley takes a moment to gather her thoughts, but then, it’s all spilling out. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you survived! You have no idea how everyone’s been since you died. Dustin is a mess; he barely leaves his house and doesn’t talk to anyone. And Steve! He's bad too but you know him, he doesn’t show it. But not being able to save you, or Max is really taking a toll on him. I can see it in his eyes. And—”

“Buckley,” he interrupts, he’s heard enough. “Let me make something clear.”

He slams her against the tree, and she gasps out his name, his old name, like a plea. 

“I told you, it’s Kas now, sweetheart.” He clasps a cold hand around her neck and squeezes slightly.  Instead, he glares at her. “And I’m not coming back. I’m loyal to Lord Creel now. Loyal,” he insists, his voice surprisingly bitter. “As in: I would never abandon him to a painful and lonely death.”

He stares into her eyes and revels in the pain. It’s only now that he’s actually paying attention to her that he notices that there’s something strange about Robin. But no matter how hard he looks, he can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s like a form of energy, something far more dangerous than Creel, but he doesn’t know what it could be.

 He’s still lost in his contemplations when she whispers. “We didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he counters, his voice dripping with venom. His own anger surprises him but he’s quick to brush it off. “I’m letting you go, but I want you to give a message to Supergirl. Creel is giving her three days to surrender. If she doesn’t, he will make sure she watches as everyone she loves dies, starting with that boy she considers her brother.”

Robin is terrified, so terrified in fact that it takes her a few seconds for her to realize that he is not choking her anymore. Then, she wordlessly leaves, never taking her eyes off of him until she’s out of sight. 

***

Nothing happens on the first day which infuriates Creel. You’d think that a guy in his late 30s, monstrous or not, would be able to control his temper, but he’s practically boiling with anger, which puts the whole hive mind into a snappy mood, Kas included. He patrols the gates to pass the time and kills a person or two who are stupid enough to get close. Nothing really happens on the first day; the second day though it’s different. On the second day, the vines alert him of a trespasser. Kas heads there, without hesitation, Creel’s anger still lingers in his mind and he’s looking forward to sinking his claws into something. 

This “something” turns out to be none other than Steve Harrington himself. 

He’s trapped in the vines; they have been pinned against a tree and Kas takes a moment to drink in the sight in front of him. Eddie Munson once had… maybe ‘crush’ is too strong of a word, but he certainly had a fascination for the young man. A little flame that could have become more had they given it the time and attention. Eddie Munson had trusted that Steve Harrington was good, but Kas knew better. Creel had shown him how many of his fellow soldiers had died by Harrington’s hands, showed him the murderous glint in his eyes whenever he threw himself in the line of fire to protect his kids, Kas had felt the swings of the nail bat, the hit of the fireworks, and the oar, and the way the Molotov cocktail had burned Creel’s flesh. Steve Harrington was not to be underestimated. 

But right now, weaponless and restrained, the teen isn’t dangerous.

For the entire time, Kas has been staring. Harrington has stared right back. He seems… Curiously nonchalant about his situation. Even now that he stands in front of him, a predator, looking at its prey, Harrington isn’t even struggling. How peculiar.

“Hey there, big boy,” he says, trying to coax a reaction out of his prisoner.

“Hi,” simply answers Harrington. There’s something weird with the teen. His voice sounds different from what he remembers it to be; less pitchy, more authoritative. Kas feels obligated to listen. Moreover, Harrington looks… Different, taller, his features are sharper than usual. His eyes feel like they're piercing whatever soul he has left. He doesn’t focus on that, charting the changes to his recent transformation.

Somewhere far within himself, he notices Harrington’s neck, it’s smooth and unblemished, and yet something tells him that the strangulation scar should still be there.

“You’re not the one that's supposed to surrender,” he grins, making sure to flash his fangs. Maybe he’d get to see Harrington scared.

The young man stares at him unimpressed. “I’m not surrendering, I want to make a deal with Creel.”

A deal? How interesting. “And what could you possibly offer that’s worth more than what Lord Creel has wanted for years?”

Despite the tightness of the vines, Harrington manages to straighten up. “That’s between Creel and I.”

Anger boils in his veins, more than just his master’s. “Whatever you want to tell him, you can tell me.”

“I need his word.”

“I am Creel’s right-hand man,” he spits out. “Speaking to me is like speaking to him.”

Harrington narrows his eyes at him and Kas can feel the sudden tension. “Is that so?”

Something about his demeanor screams ‘trap’ but it’s impossible, he’s the prisoner here, not him. “It is.”

“Give me your name,” orders the teen in a tone he’s never heard coming from him before. “Robin said you didn’t use Eddie anymore, so give me your true name.”

The air around them is vibrating with an indescribable intensity, similar to the energy before a particularly powerful storm. Every instinct in his body is screaming at him to be careful, but he doesn’t care. “Kas.”

Harrington grins, and his pupils shrink to slits. For less than a second, his whole face shifts. His mouth is filled with pointy teeth, his eyes are bigger, and his ears are pointier. Kas blinks, and Steve is back to normal, leaving him to wonder if he hallucinated the whole thing.

“Then you can accept a deal on Creel’s behalf, and it being as valid as if he made it himself?”

“Yes,” he answers sharply.

The teen looks satisfied. “Good,” he grins. “I want to settle this petty fight once and for all. So, here’s my deal: I fight against Creel’s champion, no weapons. A fight until someone bleeds. One drop, no need for more bloodshed.”

Kas considers the deal before pouting. “And what does the winner get?”

“If I win, Creel has to leave Hawkins, the world, and, most importantly, Eleven alone. He cannot send any of his monsters in his place to do his bidding either. And I want him to free Maxine Mayfield’s mind. If Creel wins, he gets Hawkins, but the children, namely, Maxine Mayfield, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, and Eleven are under my protection.”

Kas scoffs. “And what makes you think you could protect them? You couldn’t protect poor little Eddie.”

He sees the dark glint in Harrington’s eyes, warning him to back off. “I’m not worried about appearances anymore.”

There’s a weight attached to these words. Kas can’t shake the feeling that the game has shifted. He knows that should make him at least fearful, but he can’t figure out why.

“Do we have a deal?” Asks Harrington. He looks smug and Kas wants nothing more than to wipe his smirk off his face. He decides to humor him, for old time's sake. Harrington probably doesn’t know that he’s Creel’s champion and even if he did, the guy couldn’t put up a decent fight against the bats, he’s not going to last against the newly improved him.

“Sure,” he grins, showing his fangs for good measure. “You have a deal.”

Harrington’s face cracks into that uncanny smile again, and Kas has trouble connecting this face with the worry-filled teenager dotting over the children that had charmed Eddie a lifetime ago.

“Good. Take me to Creel.”

It sounds a hell of a lot like an order, so he decides to be petty. He orders the vines to retreat, and he barely gives the teen enough time to take a few steps on his own before he orders a smaller vine to coil around his wrists. The plant is small enough that Kas can cut it off, and the hive mind feels no pain. Even dead, though, it’s still wrapped tight enough to keep the teen moderately restrained.

Harrington raises an unimpressed eyebrow at his predicament. “Seriously?”

Now, it’s his turn to smile smugly. “Prisoners don't get a choice on how we get there.” Then he invades his space, like Eddie had in the stolen RV, and says in the same tone. “Plus, bondage looks good on you, big boy.”

As expected, Harrington flushes red, but there’s also anger in his eyes. “You don’t get to call me that. Only he could.”

“Aw,” he pouts mockingly. “Did I hit a sensitive subject?”

The brunette doesn’t meet his eyes, and it’s all he needs to realize something else. He lets out a dramatic gasp. “Don’t tell me that King Steve actually had a crush on Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?” Steve is fuming, but Kas sees right through it. “You did!”

“Doesn’t matter,” grumbles the teen. Kas delights in the frustration he feels coming off of him in waves.

“If it makes it any better, he did too,” he adds, knowing I'll only add fuel to the fire. He sighs exaggeratingly. “Then again, he didn’t think he could be loved. And it never would’ve worked out between the two of you. Especially since the… You know the ‘leaving him for dead’ part.”

“Back off,” snaps Harrington, and strangely enough, he doesn’t mind changing the subject. 

Instead, he grabs the brunette by his shoulder and shoves him forward. “Walk.”

They walk in silence for a while, neither of them wants to be the one to break the peace. If he used his powers, they’d be there in less than five minutes, but he wants Steve to imagine what’s going to happen, he wants him to simmer in his own fears until they get there. He doesn’t seem very scared, though. In fact, he even looks annoyed. They pass through a clearing full of Demobats, some snarl at the trapped teen, but most either stay back or plainly fly away.

“They remember you,” he realizes, as he feels the anger and fear of the flock.

“Ozzy, right?” answers Harrington, with no amusement in his voice. There’s a few seconds of tension before he speaks again. “We came back for you. Just three days later, you weren’t there.”

Some deep part of him melts at the confession, overjoyed to know that he hadn’t been forgotten about. His friends had come back for him. But Kas quickly shoves that feeling as far as he can, instead, choosing to turn the knife in the wound. “You were too late, again.”

Harrington quickly shoots him a dirty look. “When did you get so mean? Dustin would be really sad to see you like this.”

He doesn’t like how guilty that remark makes him feel. An echo of Eddie and Dustin’s last conversation echoes through his mind.

“I love you, man,” Eddie chokes through blood and tears.

Dustin’s voice trembles. “I love you too.”

Kas snarls as he chases the memory away. He’s tired of the mind games Harrington is trying to pull on him. “That little shit abandoned me just like the rest of you did.” He shoves his prisoner forward, delighting in the way that he stumbles, even if it looks forced. “Keep annoying me like that, and I’m gagging you.”

“Geez, sensitive much?” counters the teen, but there’s a noticeable triumph in his voice.

They keep walking, in silence this time, and Kas can’t help the feeling that he’s playing right into Harrington’s hand.

***

Harrington still isn’t scared when the imposing house gradually appears on the horizon. He keeps his cool and walks straight ahead. It almost feels like the teen is leading Kas to the house. Suddenly overcome with anger, he grabs the brunette’s shoulder, keeping a tight hold on his shirt.

“I lead the way,” he hisses.

Harrington doesn’t answer, but he does roll his eyes. They walk up the stairs that lead to the attic, and he can see the teen trying to avoid the vines that slowly extend towards him, curious at the new visitor. His helplessness gives him great satisfaction. When they finally reach Lord Creel, the creature is already waiting for him.

And he’s angry.

“Kas,” he says, his voice dripping with venom. “Why did you bring that thing here?”

Creel’s disgust toward humans is something he’s well aware of, but never had he referred to them as ‘things’ before. As he approaches his master, he knows he’s done something wrong. In a last ditch effort to save himself, he kicks Harrington behind the knees to make him kneel. The impact of his bone on wood resonates loudly around them, and Kas is relieved when the brunette doesn’t try to get up. An unruly prisoner is the last thing he needs right now.

“I found him close to the East gate.”

“Your orders were clear,” growls Creel. “So why is he not dead?

That’s a good question actually. He should’ve gotten rid of the team's protector. So why didn’t he? “I… I thought he’d make a good hostage.”

“I do not need a hostage; I need Eleven’s head on a stick.”

Kas’ stomach drops when Harrington speaks up, a chuckle in his voice. “You’ll never have her.”

Creel's head snaps down, his face slowly turning into an expression of annoyance. “Oh? And why is that?”

“Because we made a deal,” smugly answers the teen. He quickly explains the terms they’ve agreed to, and Creel’s face darkens.

“I did not agree to this deal, it is not valid.”

He may be kneeling, but Steve speaks with the confidence of someone who’s already won. “No, but your right-hand man did. And he, like everything else linked through the hive mind, is an extension of you. Therefore, the deal is valid.”

Creel’s burning rage is suddenly on him, and his dead heart jumps in his chest. “M— Master, it’s just a deal, why is it so important?” he continues to try to justify himself, barely registering when Harrington slowly gets to his feet. Kas does notice how quickly Creel is losing whatever cool he has left.

“It matters because he’s a fae!” His master explodes. 

A deep part of him demands attention at the mention of fae. It whispers of how dangerous they are, that he needs to be careful with his words because faes are tricksters. But most importantly, it warns him to never make a deal with them because the price will always be higher than expected. And Kas just made a deal with Harrington. He looks at the teen, he’s staring right back at him. He’s got that twisted face again, except it’s so much worse than before because now he knows that he’s not hallucinating. His teeth look even pointier, and his eyes glint with what seems to be malice. One of his long nails slices right through the vines keeping his wrists bound and he exaggeratingly rolls his shoulders. 

“Cat’s out of the bag.” His face morphs back to the more human-looking one, but Kas can still see the small details that don’t quite add up. “Let’s get this over with. The kids are waiting for me.” Steve turns to him and winks, but all Kas can see are the not-quite-round pupils. “Ready, champion?”

Uh. So, Harrington knew about him. No big deal he’s still stronger than him… Right?

Creel doesn’t say anything, but Kas can still feel his threat linger in the air. Win, or die. He swipes first, trying to catch the teen off guard, but he simply moves out of the way. Kas tries again, and again, but Harrington dodges him every time. It looks all too easy for him, almost like he’s playing a game. It’s at that moment that he remembers his earlier words.

“I’m not worried about appearances anymore.”

Was this what he meant? Was this the shift he felt?

Suddenly a long nail slices his cheek open, making thick, black blood drip down his face. Kas looks at Harrington, whose face hides in no way his satisfaction at his victory. “I win.”

The house shakes with Creel's anger. He towers over Harrington, who doesn’t even seem worried. “You may have won this fight, but who says I’ll let you leave? Maybe the deal is broken if you die.”

Anger flashes across Steve’s features and the illusion of humanity breaks for a split second. “Would you really risk breaking a deal with a fae? He spits out his tone firm and unwavering. “Not even you would be that stupid.”

Kas is surprised to see actual fear in Creel's eyes. It lasts barely a second, but it’s enough to know that everyone has seen it. His master tries to hold onto his powerful façade and stares down Harrington in an attempt to intimidate him. But if Kas remembered one thing from when he was alive, it’s that Steve Harrington doesn’t get intimidated easily.

As expected, Creel loses the battle and lets out a deep sigh. “Go,” he orders.

Steve smiles and starts to head out, Kas following behind him. He’s not sure why he’s doing it, it’s just something he feels like he’s supposed to do.

“Not you, Kas,” Creel sneers, and he knows he’s fucked. Because he didn’t just lose a fight, he’d also inadvertently foiled all of his master’s plans for revenge. And now he’s going to pay for his mistake. Kas is sure that he’s not going to kill him, but he’s going to make him wish he did. He walks to his master with his head down, he’s terrified, but he knows there’s nothing he can do.

“Kas will be coming with me,” interrupts Harrington. He places himself between him and Creel and the creature stares at him with eyes full of fury.

“And why would he do that? I made him who he is, he belongs to me.”

The teen is not deterred. “Does he?” He challenges. “Reach into the hive mind, he may be a part of you, but is he still yours?”

Lord Creel doesn’t say anything and Kas fears that he might call Harrington’s bluff. He has to be bluffing, right? His master eventually closes his eyes and concentrates. It takes barely 10 seconds before he reopens them with burning anger.

“What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing,” dismisses the brunette before gesturing towards Kas. “But your loyal soldier gave me his name. Willingly. That means you no longer have any claims to him.”

Creel roars in anger and lunges at Harrington. Vines goes to grab at him, but Steve doesn’t even flinch. However, his face darkens, and the temperature around them drops colder than Kas has ever felt it to be in this place.

“Attack me and see what happens,” hisses Harrington, his voice sharp and cutting. “This place has existed longer than you have, and it will exist long after you’re gone. Don’t make me speed up the process.”

Everything stills around them, and Creel seems to ponder on the words. He’s never seen him this powerless before. He’s not sure he likes it.

“You wouldn’t dare,” taunts Creel.

“Try me.” Harrington doesn’t move. “You have hurt people I love; you have killed innocents by the dozen. I am giving you the chance to walk away and leave us alone. Do not waste it.”

“I will spend the rest of my life, trying to find loopholes,” threatens the creature, his former master.

Steve simply smiles at him but there’s no amusement in his face. “I’ll be waiting.” He then turns to him and nods his head to the side. “Come on, time to go home.”

Harrington starts walking and that familiar feeling, that one that made him follow in the first place is back, except this time he knows what it is: ownership. He is not Creel’s anymore, but he is not free, because he gave his name to Harrington. 

And Harrington kills monsters.

[oistak]

do you write alphabets?? if yes then valentino nsfw alphabet maybee????🙏🙏🙏 please and thank you

Valentino nsfw alphabet

about a third of the way through i realized that my brain cannot do this much in a sitting and have it be something im happy with, so i've specified in pinned post that you can only request up to five letters at a time, sry yall <3

a = aftercare (what they're like after sex)

cold and distant. val doesn't believe in aftercare. since he works in the porn industry, anything after cut is a money waster for him. val is more of a hit it and quit it rather than a romantic, he hates being intimate and it shows. he’ll probably stay for a few minutes- smoking, before getting dressed and leaving

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

his arms. he loves watching you writhe as he holds you down and thrusts into you, he loves watching his nails dig into your thighs, he wants any feeling of power over you and he feels the utmost amount of control and advantage while he does this. he loves your legs, he’ll watch them tremble as he realeases into you, he'll will hold them over your head, or hang one of them off his shoulder

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

watching you covered in his cum was a turn on. he loved the thought of marking you as his and only his. his jizz is prob very thin and miky and it covers you face like a mask, is he finishes inside your throat he will absolutely make you swallow-no exceptions, he makes you clean his cock after for sure

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

none of his dirty secrets are secrets

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

crazy experienced. i mean have you seen the films he makes? he knows this industry better than the back of his hands. anything you wanna do he’s open to it cause hes already done everything. he knows every position, every trick, every toy, this is his field of study and he’ll be sure not to disappoint

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

oyster, so he can hold you down, again, he loves to feel in control. also this gives him full access to you and hes able to thrust as deep as he can reach, it makes him feel connected with you, like you're both bonding on a deeper level because there is nothing that says “strong relationship” like rawdogging into them

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

sex is his job, theres nothing funny about it and if you laugh or make jokes, he’ll definitely make it so you can’t walk tomorrow

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

completely shaven the carpet does match the drapes because there's nothing up there either. he keeps it smooth and probably has a few piercings, gold of course to match his chain. he still has white armpit hair tho he shaves his legs and pubes daily and also bathes himself in some musky cologne

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

omg thats funny, val? intimacy?

j= jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn't need to, he has whores at his disposal, so if you’re not here he won’t mind taking his mind off things with a few of his top-earners sucking him off, he’s not that needy anyways that he can wait for you to get back or he’ll normalizes jerking off and does it in his studio

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

val has all the kinks but i think he’d be most into fucking you in public, something about the thrill and showing everyone else that you're his, and he is the only one who could make you cum so much and that he own you: soul and body

l= location (favorite places to do the deal)

evreyday, everywhere, anytime, at the studio, in his office, in the lobby, reception, conference room, restroom, elevator, stairwell, cafeteria, kitchen, mailroom, storage room, break room, janitor's closet, mechanical room, server room, boardroom, office, cubicle, waiting area, lounge, pantry, library, gym, in costco, training room, utility room, copy room, it room, security office, loading dock, garage, rooftop, terrace, basement, locker room, in ikea, printing room, call center, lab, observation deck, till your screaming and crying

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he loves when you wear skimpy clothes for him and matching lingerie especially with the vees logo, also i think watching you be ruthless to others would get him raging hard. val would also love when you whisper what you want him to do to you in public, it’d get him hard rlly quickly. he’ll probably like it more when you tell him in private tho, he’ll make you strip and give him a private “show”

n = no (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

nothing

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

val likes to receive orals more, but he’d give them too. he has a crazy long tounge and he uses it to make you moan and squeak as he holds down your thighs and watches you tremble

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he can do either, val is very versatile though he prefers fast and rough in general.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

val doesn’t really care where you have sex as long as he gets off he’s good but for how often it's probably not as much as you'd think, val would rather pound into you long and hard. if he were to do quickies you’re always the one sucking him off.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

val lives risks, experiments, anything really

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

it doesn't matter cause he'll definitely outlast you, he could go forever if you're bratty - just to teach you a lesson

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

val uses toys a lot on you or on him,and he certainly owns a ton, vibrators, dildos, whips, anal beads, gags, anal plugs. he definitely loves the clear ones the most

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

he loves to watch you struggle and he loves to feel power over you, so of course he's going to be unfair, he'll leaved you straped to a vibrator for hours to sit in the corner and watch you struggle

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

hes not that loud but he groans a lot, and hes crazy with the dirty talk and the teasing

w= wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

val likes to chase someone, he likes to brat tame and absolutely break your spirit. he’ll degrade you when you cum and everything, he wants to watch you sob

x = x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

val has a 9 inch cock not as thick but definitely girthy, the length is the same color as his body but the tip is a light pink color and he has a few piercings along it

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

very high. he’d legit have sex anywhere i keep saying this but its val, hes bound to want to have sex as much as possible

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

val might smoke a bit, then leave, you're usually the one to pass out first, and me the writer is gonna pass out from writing all that in an hour and a half

[heartfullofleeches]

Rubik Dice

Yandere Entity (Entities?) Blurb

An: In a vent of frustration with a rubix cube - I present this. [Brief mentions of death]

-

Six people to a room.

It's too many.

Between damped sobs and their own; and the feud in their head, they couldn't think let alone say their piece. How did this happen? How could they make such a careless mistake? It was just supposed to be an evening stroll. It had been a week since they'd been out. The longest they'd ever been put away. Being cramped under so long they had to get some fresh air or risk clawing out their throat for a clean breath. It's so cramped in their head, in this room. Six people is far too many to be alone with unless the last person is....

"Nice job, idiot. We're in enough trouble as it is - now what are we going to do?."

It was an accident.

"Don't be so mean! We all have our lapses in judgement sometimes.... Even if they are kidnapping not-so-random strangers off the street."

Didn't you tell me to do it?

"Haha- You really fucked up tonight, didn't you?.. He saw your face. No choice, but to kill him less you never want to be seen in public again? All I'm sayin' is my blades should still be in the bag."

We can't kill any more people. Why are you always like this? Please, can't we just -

"Leave this to a roll of the dice?"

Indecisive on topics ranging from daily meals to torture methods; the trio concluded their shared consciousness to one, unified:

"No."

"Take out that dice and I'm breaking your fingers. Why do we always have to be responsible for your fuck ups?"

"Such a coward. You can crack a brick over someone's skull to shut them up, but you can't stab a knife through their neck to silence them?"

"You know, someone has been reeeeeally quiet since we got back home. We all know what that means."

Ragged breathing stills in the face of its captor. The rambling maniac themselves has quieted to nothing more than a stagnant shell. They both know what's to happen next. There's only one way out of this now. He can beg all he wants, but he'll tell. Even if they believe him the others won't. Neighbors. The police. You. Everything always came back to you. Mistakes, failures, hopes. You'd hate them - all of them - if you knew what took place in this basement. You'd never want to see any of them again.

"Maybe we should let him go... They're pretty hot when they're mad. I'm sure they'd forgive us eventually."

"Quiet."

It's quiet now. How soon the commotion ends when that side of them says their part. Their voice doesn't like nails on a chalkboard. So sweet it makes teeth rot. It isn't authoritative enough to make those who heard Trimble in their wake nor is it meek and pathetic enough for a second listen. It was the amalgam of those voices - the best pairs.

"Now, Blu. You know we can't do things alone that we haven't discussed with everyone else before hand. Would you please let me out so I can take care of our little problem?"

"...ok."

Trembling hands retrieve the fist-sized cube from its pocket; chipped nails slid into the crevice separating the second and third row of squares. Why were they the one that had to solve it? These puzzles were always so hard despite the countless times they've done it - teary eyes aiding little to their cause. It becomes easier once they slide the third white cube into row. Their eyesight and mental slate become clear, cheeks dry and devoid of the faded acne scars that plagued them. They step towards their captive who was busy squirming away from the figure now five inches taller and missing the hunch in their posture that left them wondering how they had managed to drag them here in the beginning. Gaze piercing and laser focus as opposed to cowering from each sniffle. With those pure white eyes it's impossible to tell where they're looking, but the threat of being the target of their glance was petrifying alone. They were blue not even a minute ago. It was like they were a different person entirely - body and soul.

A dice falls to their victim's feet.

"Six.... You were fortune this time."

Another object grabbed from their robes. A single line drawn across their neck - and it's back to five.

"I knew you had that on you...."

"Awww, what the hell - over already? Should've made them beg or at least give us their address."

"May they have a peace rest.... Is what I would say if it were someone else, haha!"

"I think I'm gonna be sick..."

The figure pockets their weapon and stands with a stretch, stepping away from the growing pool of blood. "That was messier than expected. What should we do now?"

"Clean up this mess."

"Check Y/n's page."

"Send them flowers!"

"And this guy's heart in a chocolate box."

"All good ideas. Why don't we do them all?... Besides that last one."

Five people to a room.

As it always should be - until you come home.