#someone tells him they love him and they haven't been violent with him in the past? jason IS going to cry

[mikakuna]

to each their own but to see jason as anything other than someone who breaks down crying when someone is tender and loving with him is illegal

[tbaluver]

HIIIIII! first of all I wanna thank you for your service to the entirety of the LADS fandom omg😭🫶🫶🫶 local treasure for real. Uhhhh now for my request- If it’s alright with you, is it okie to write HCs for the boys if they were vampires? LMK IF IT ISN’T ALR W YOU😭😭😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t okie TT…..

The Love And DeepSpace Men As Vampires

warnings/ context: a lot of mention of blood, fluff and a lot of intimacy, maybe ooc

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie <3 !! omg you're so sweet your message literally made my day!! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ thank you for requesting and i hope you like this !! i might make a second part of this headcanon bc i honestly liked writing this au!!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier's swordsmanship reached new heights. His speed, strength, and reflexes were enhanced beyond human capabilities, allowing him to execute complex maneuvers with ease and precision. Over the centuries, he continued to practice and perfect his craft, adapting his techniques to the evolving eras and styles of combat. In the present day, Xavier is a highly respected Deepspace Hunter. He is known for his remarkable physical abilities and his combat skills, honed over centuries have proven invaluable in dangerous situations, especially involving violent Wanderers or high-risk scenario's.

You first met at the abandoned warehouse, where your mission brought you together. As you worked side by side, investigating cases and solving crimes, your professional partnership and friendship gradually deepened into a close, intimate relationship.

During a high stake mission, he was gravely injured, and you rushed to his side, eager to tend his wounds. Despite your urgent efforts, he gently pushed you away, his eyes filled with a mixture and resolve. He had been preparing for this moment for a long time, searching for the right words and the right timing. This man has even looked it up on the internet on how to tell you but found no help whatsoever. When he explained it all, it all made sense.

Your boyfriend who would sleep a lot during the day, you haven't seen your boyfriend eat much whenever you went on dates let alone cook. But usually when he cooks he would burn it. And a lot of his missions are usually at night.

He consistently turned down your offers to feed him. However, it became increasingly evident that his strength was waning. Over the past few weeks, his supply of blood bags had dwindled to almost nothing, leaving him visibly weakened and frail. One evening, as he struggled to maintain his composure, you could no longer just stand by and watch. You confronted him insisting that he accepts your offer despite his protests.

He preferred to bite you on the neck, from behind, pressing you close to his chest. He slipped his arm around your waist, his touch light and comforting. His breath, warm and steady, grazes the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver slightly with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

He lowered his head, his fangs emerging with a practiced grace. The initial contact was tender, a gentle brush of his lips against your skin, followed by a delicate lick. His fangs, sharp yet controlled, made a brief precise puncture. The sting was momentary, quickly overshadowed by the soothing warmth that followed. The richness of your blood filled him with a profound sense of satisfaction. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, anchoring him as he savored the precious essence flowing between the them. When he pulls his fangs out, his tongue reacquaints itself with the flavor of your skin as his palm cradles the back of your head affectionately.

You've also become more accustomed to sleeping at the same time with him. You found out from him that vampires find comfort sleeping close to someone they trust and love.

His protective nature for you is also heightened. He's always vigilant about your safety and goes to great lengths to shield you from harm.

Zayne:

Zayne has adapted to his new existence. He carefully crafted a persona as a surgeon. As the world evolved, so did Zayne. He embraced modern advancements in medical technology and his practice is renowned for it's extraordinary success rates, often performing miracles that seemed beyond the reach of contemporary medicine.

Despite his vampire nature, he sticks to a strict ethical code. He uses his immortality to help those in need, driven by a belief that his eternal life should be used to alleviate suffering and advance medical knowledge. To the public, he is a genius who performs miracles, but no one knows the truth until you came along in his life.

I think he would also love arts. As a vampire that's been alive for centuries, he would love to talk to you about art, literature, or show you around the museums that interest him. His extended lifespans gives him the opportunity to witness and absorb various cultural movements over the centuries so he'd gladly talk to you about it all.

He was alive centuries ago so his manners and chivalry are always timeless with you. He holds the door open, pulls out chairs, and showers you with tradional gestures of affection.

Truth is, he is terrified of hurting you and will genuinely avoid you if it means to keep you safe. However, his bloodlust continues to get worst with his tender feelings towards you as you continue coming back for a patient checkup or anytime you two would be together. His mind racing with a jumble of anxious thoughts, 'What if you feared him after telling you?', 'What if he becomes addicted and sucks you dry?' The idea of losing you absolutely drove him mad.

When it came to eventually telling you, you weren't afraid of him, which made him relax. You both talked about your boundaries and your safety.

You wouldn't be able to tell from his stoic expression but he would actually be nervous. He usually drank blood from blood bags and poured into a cup. It was always bland, something to just fill his hunger. But when you offered your own, he was terrified of what your blood would to him.

When you finally convinced him, he would make sure you were okay as he pushed your hair out of the way. He preferred to bite you on the neck from the front, pressing you close to his chest. Your hand would clench around his shirt, tensing up due to the idea of it hurting.

He would be slow, gentle, and place soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he runs his hands along your waist. As his nose brushed against your neck, he drew in your irresistible scent with a deep, lingering breath. He positions his fangs at your throat and pressed down.

You gasp at the sudden, sharp sting of pain, and he immediately begins to comfort you, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on your hip to ease the discomfort. Eventually, you would become relaxed in his embrace as you wait for him to finish feeding. His entire body would protest, but he'd resist the urge to pull away, relishing each drop of your blood with a palpable hunger. He'd worry he'd taken too much.

When he finally drew back he would lick the wound and press soft kisses on it. He saw how drained you looked, but your reassurance puts his fears to rest. Gently, he'd help you settle into a seat, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder before he went to fetch some snacks to help you regain your strength back.

After weeks of feeding, his hunger was finally full. He no longer needed to feed with any regularity; he could comfortably go a week or even a month without feeding. He doesn't drink from you unless it's absolutely necessary, sometimes to the point where he's so weak he couldn't even hold his pen anymore.

However if the time came again and you let him feed on you, he would have everything prepared. He'd have bandages and wraps nearby in case of any mishaps, along with snacks and drinks to help you recover afterward. The feeding would take place in your shared resting chamber, ensuring you could relax afterwards.

Rafayel:

As a vampire, Rafayel's artistic abilities were magnified to extraordinary levels. His senses became heightened, allowing him to perceive the subtlest nuances of color, texture, and lighting. His immortality provides him with endless time to refine his craft, and explore new techniques and styles that pushes the boundaries of traditional painting. His paintings are considered a masterpiece that capture interest of many people all over the world.

You met him at his house studio to investigate a painting. Eventually you're both attacked by a Wanderer in his home and defeat it. In the aftermath, he extends an offer to hire you as his bodyguard, recognizing the value of your talents. You accepted, and as your roles shifted from professional to personal, a deeper connection blossomed between you. It wasn't long before your relationship grew into something more intimate. Eventually he would confess that he was a vampire. At first, his mischievous demeanor made it hard to take his claim seriously.

Rafayel tries so hard to hold himself back whenever he's near you. He would go to any lengths, even staking himself, to ensure he would never cause you harm. He struggles to keep his bloodlust at bay, especially when your scent is so intoxicating. Each time you wear something that exposes your neck, wrists, or ankles, his throat becomes unbearably dry. To mask his struggle, he distracts himself with conversation and avoids eye contact, desperately trying to remain composed. When you're near, he can barely focus on anything but the overwhelming urge to taste your blood, a constant battle between his desires and his determination to keep you safe.

Whenever he shows affection, whether it's a hug or a kiss, he holds you just a bit too tightly, his breath trembling against your neck, making you shiver. Though he's always tender with you, in these moments you can sense the raw edge of his desire, barely contained beneath his gentle exterior. It's a thrilling reminder of the thin line he walks between his love for you and his almost overpowering urge to taste your blood. And at times like this, you truly wonder if your boyfriend was telling you the truth.

However, your skepticism grew when you witnessed his pallor and weakness, the result of without proper nourishment. He explained that blood donors he relied on were bland and left a lingering, unpleasant aftertaste so he had neglected his feeding.

Out of your generosity you would ask him to drink you blood and obviously he'll be shocked and refused. But you know him to well and it takes barely any persuading to let him feed on you.

He prefers to bite your wrist, finding it the most practical and less intrusive spot for feeding. He insists that you sit beside him during the process, believing it to be the safest arrangement. This way if he ever loses control or if you start to feel faint or unwell you can easily pull away and protect yourself from any unintended harm. His primary concern is your safety, and he values this precautionary measure to ensure that your well-being is always safeguarded.

He would lean in, his breath warm against your skin, and with the gentlest pressure, his fangs would pierce the surface of your wrist. A brief, tingling sting that quickly faded into a soothing warmth. He fed slowly savoring the rich, warm taste, each tip tender and measured. His hold on your wrist would be firm but careful, ensuring that you felt secure and not overwhelmed.

As he drank, he would look up a couple times, his gaze fixed on you, watching for any signs of discomfort. When he finally finished, he eased his fangs from your skin and gently licked the small punctures, soothing them with a tender touch. He placed soft kisses over the marks.

Even as a vampire, he'll still mess around with you. He occasionally teases you by extending his fangs just enough to graze your skin. He would let his teeth lightly brush against your arm, just enough to startle you without breaking the surface layer. His laughter rings our softly as you squirm or swat at him, your playful annoyance would be evident. He does this with kisses too. Sometimes you'll feel a sharp fang gently biting your tongue and you'll pull away to flick his forehead for being mischievous

Although he can't see himself in the mirror you would always remind him he's always so handsome. You may not be the artist like he is but you'll try to draw him sometimes and even though it might not be perfect or he might make fun of you, he appreciates the gesture.

Sylus:

You first met Sylus when an unknown man fires a bullet at you, but Sylus stops the bullet mid-air and disintegrates the man. Despite your minor injuries, with blood seeping from the wounds, your scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating to him. Sylus had been quietly monitoring you, with Mephisto discreetly shadowing your every move. The raw, alluring aroma of your blood ignited a fierce, almost uncontrollable craving within him. Yet, he fought to maintain his composure, striving to resonate with while concealing the fierce hunger that roared within him. Although not a lot of talking has happened when you passed out.

You woke up to find out you've been staying at his home for three days. He's tried to force you to resonate with him after you woke up only to find out the reason why it didn't work was because you were subconsciously rejecting him, scared of him, or disgusted by him. Eventually you agreed to work with him, on the terms of helping you out with your investigation to make you not so disgusted by him.

As you both diligently worked together in the N109 Zone, trust between you gradually deepened. Through countless shared experiences and mutual reliance, you discovered more about each other, and your relationship evolved from professional to deeply personal. Eventually, Sylus reveals to you that he was a vampire. Which was not surprising to you at all. Pale Skin and crimson red eyes? That's def a vampire. The information did not change your relationship but rather you've become more curious.

You found out he usually gets blood from blood bags from the hospital because he has no time to hunt. He hates having to feed on the blood bags as they were too bland and unsatisfying. To compensate, he sometimes indulges in red wine, using it as a substitute to mimic the richness he craves. so sometimes he'll drink a lot of red wine as a filler for blood.

Dates with him are also super thoughtful just like how he would give you gifts. He'll gift you with more antique or vintage things from his past that remind him of you. He loves taking you out on moonlit dates or walks under the stars. He obviously cannot be in the sun but he also hates the sun so this was perfect for him.

He also has a ton of secret hideaways in the world. He created many for anytime you both want to travel so these hidden spots offer a blend of comfort and safety for the two of you.

Out of your kindness and curiosity, you offer him your own blood, hoping it might provide a more fulfilling experience. He would be hesitant about it, mainly worried that he might become addicted once he's consumed your blood. But with reassurance and the communication between you two you decided to try it out.

He preferred to bite you on your inner thigh. You would lay on the body, your body relaxed and supported by the plush of the pillows. Your legs would be slightly bent and spread, giving him easy access as he settled between you. He brushed his lips lightly against your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and soothing. His breath was warm against your skin as his one of his hands rested gently on your hips, offering reassurance and stability. His other hand would be intertwined with yours.

With a deliberate slowness, he allowed his fangs to emerge, their presence barely noticeable at first. As he leaned in, he places a soft kiss on the inner curve of your thigh, his fangs grazing lightly against your skin. The feeling of anticipation and tenderness, would make you tingle with both excitement and nervousness.

When he finally bit down, it was a controlled precision. The initial sting was quick but fleeting, and quickly replaced by a soothing, warm sensation as he began to feed. He couldn't help but groan at your taste. He kept his touch light, his hands continuously caressing your thigh to ensure you were secured and cared for. He'll occasionally look up, to see if you were showing any signs of discomfort.

Once he was done feeding, he would lick the wound clean and caress your thigh as he would praise you. "You taste so good for me sweetie." The gesture you have given him has open a new chapter in your complex relationship.

[yan-randomfandom]

HIIIIIIII I love your writing alot!!!! Soo, I wanna request something:3

Maybe a Yandere Stanford Pines x GN reader who only saw him as a close friend? They became friends when they were still in high-school up to this day! (Yes, reader did sort of wait 30 years for Ford and never forgot about him)

Maybe just Stanford obsessing over Reader romantically, and Reader just think him as the greatest best-friend ever!!

I LOVE ONE SIDED PINNING OKAY????

Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

UM UH,,, IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON— and it's something I'm not even proud of 😭😭

context btw; reader doesn't know about weirdmaggedon or fake death or entire lore, they dont tell them anything uhhh idk anymore

You took the bus to Gravity Falls! Stanley reached out to you after decades of not having contact. It was a bit sudden, but there's no way you're going to ignore his call.

Stanley Pines was the first man you saw when the Mystery Shack's door opened. Wrinkly, exhausted widened eyes looked at you in silence. He looked unprepared... kind of crusty musty... and very unhygienic.

"You look disgusting! I'm gonna hug you anyway!" you beamed, pulling him in for a big hug. Unwillingly, a strong whiff of his scent hits your nose. "You stink too! You haven't changed a bit, Stanley."

"Glad to know ya missed me," he laughed, giving you an affectionate noogie.

When Stan finally let you go, you looked up to see Ford. He stood in front of you, speechless as he stared into your eyes.

"...Ford," you grinned, walking towards him. In curiosity, you placed your palms on both his cheeks. He seemed to relax with your touch. "You changed a lot."

Your eyes, while they've wrinkled, are as warm as the day he last saw them. He smiled back, his large hand covering one of yours. Your smile widened when you saw his fingers. "And you aged beautifully."

Poetic as always! A laugh bubbled up your throat as you wrapped your arms around him.

He quickly returned the gesture, burying his face into your neck. He missed this. He missed you.

Your warmth didn't change. Fascinating.

"I missed you, man! How come you're such a silver fox now? Good for you!"

"I still have no idea what a silver fox is," he chuckled, already longing for you the second you pulled away from him.

Ford merely stood there for a few moments before he grimaced. Damn it. He still likes you, doesn't he?

It's been more than thirty years already. He thought he would have moved on, especially after the whole weirdmaggedon thing. Why would Stanley ever get the idea of calling you back here??

All of you now sat at the table with you in between the Pines twins. Mabel wore an apron, sophisticatedly offering you tea. The sweetheart made the recipe herself!

"So, how have you been doing these days?" Ford asked, resting his cheek on his palm. Every passing second with you, he gets reminded more and more of why he used to like you.

You are, after all, the first and only person to not call him any sort of names because of his hands.

"Oh, I mean, I've been financially doing well, and it's been a bit difficult to settle down with a partner... but," you blushed. "I think I finally found the one."

Ford coughed out violently, pounding a fist against his chest. He really shouldn't be surprised. He really shouldn't! You're bound to have found someone!

Get a grip. Fourty. Years.

...He truly had missed out on this dimension for such a long time.

...

The sky is dark. Dipper told you about the roof spot at the shack, and now you're here, thinking about life.

"Dipper said you'd be here," a voice murmured. You looked up and saw Ford walking up to you. Chuckling, you offered him a non-alcoholic drink.

"How many days will you be staying here again?" Ford asked as he sat next to you, sparing a small space between.

"A week at most," you shrugged, kicking your legs at the edge. Ford simply stared at you.

"I guess it'll be forever before we see you again, huh?" he mumbled.

You turned to him with a smile. "Of course not. You guys are invited to my wedding."

... Wedding.

A small huff left your lips. "We're so old now. I still remember being in high school and grouping up with you and Stan when a trio was needed. Good times."

Ford continued staring at you.

"You guys were my best friends. Probably not now, I mean, been decades since we last talked. That reminds me, what made you call—"

Ford suddenly interrupted you with a hug.

"Woah, Fordsy, you miss me that much?" you laughed, hugging him back.

Don't call him that. His arms around you tightened.

You simply let him hug you.

It was such a long one.

And it only grew tighter by the second.

Like he never wanted to let you go again.

but his aim is getting better 🗣️

i love your idea so much btw, i too am a fan of one-sided pining.... the desperation yk.. I THINK I JUST SUCK AT WRITING FOR THAT WHAT 😟 (says the yandere blog)

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm glad i get forever to see where you end

check all tags on and read if you prefer on ao3

rated e, minors dni

happy birthday to my wife in all but law, @messessentialist. this whole idea came out of nowhere and then just kept growing and growing, much like my love for you. anytime you're ready to live our rv life dreams, i'm ready.

i'm not gonna post any links here, but just know i had 8 tabs open of different fish and birds that can be seen in and around indiana lakes. i didn't have a particular lake in mind, but there are plenty to choose from so if it matters to you, i mostly looked at lakes in the northeast and northwest area of indiana.

title is lyrics from forever by noah kahan, which is a song you should absolutely listen to if you haven't before.

this work is for sadie. if she is the only one who reads this, then that's all that matters to me.

//////////////////////////////////////////

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.

But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.

“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”

Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.

For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.

For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.

He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.

And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.

He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.

He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.

It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.

Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.

But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.

Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.

“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”

Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.

“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”

“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”

Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”

He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.

Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”

This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.

“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”

Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.

“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.

“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”

And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.

“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”

“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.

“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”

Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.

Hearing it changes something in Wayne.

“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.

“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”

“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”

They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.

A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.

“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.

“Sure is.”

“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.

“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.

“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”

Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.

“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”

Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.

“I’m an orphan!”

Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.

“Sorry, what?”

“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”

“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”

“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”

Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.

He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.

“Let’s eat.”

- - -

Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.

Wayne’s been waiting.

Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.

“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.

“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.

“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”

He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.

Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.

It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.

It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.

“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”

“Could Steve come?”

“Sure.”

He agrees without a second thought.

This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.

Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.

“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”

Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.

- - -

Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.

But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.

“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.

“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”

“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”

Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.

“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”

“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.

“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”

Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.

He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.

He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.

“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.

“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.

“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”

“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”

“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.

But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.

“Steve, I feel like-“

“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”

Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”

“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”

“Not surprising.”

“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”

Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”

Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.

- - -

The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.

Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.

It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.

They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.

Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…

“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.

“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”

“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”

He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.

His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.

Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.

But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.

He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.

Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.

“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.

“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”

“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”

Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.

Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.

As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.

Steve doesn’t notice him.

- - -

The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.

When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.

Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.

It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.

“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”

“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“That’s stupid.”

Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”

“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”

Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.

He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”

Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.

“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”

“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.

“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.

Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.

He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.

They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.

“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”

“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”

Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.

“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”

“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”

Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.

“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.

“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.

“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”

Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.

He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.

“You mean everything to me.”

Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.

Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.

He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.

He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.

Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.

He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.

This wasn’t a dream, though.

They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.

He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.

Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.

Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.

“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.

“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”

Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”

This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.

In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.

A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.

Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.

That’s just who Steve is.

Eddie loves him for it.

“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”

Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.

He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.

“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”

“That sounds boring.”

Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.

It’s easy.

A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.

“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.

“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.

Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.

He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.

“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.

Steve relaxes and sighs.

“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”

“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”

Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”

“A kiss.”

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”

Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.

“One kiss.”

“Only one?” Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”

“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.

Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.

He gets to look now.

After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.

He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.

“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Like you wanna eat me.”

“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”

Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.

“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.

Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.

When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.

“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”

Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.

Steve wordlessly points it out to him.

“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.

“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”

“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.

“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”

Wayne nods. “And the bait.”

“I thought we used plastic stuff.”

“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”

Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”

“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”

They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.

Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.

Or tomorrow.

“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.

Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.

“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.

“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”

Eddie nods and leaves the room.

He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.

He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.

But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.

Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Being on the boat is different as an adult.

The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.

This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.

Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.

“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”

Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.

Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.

It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.

They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.

Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.

He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.

Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.

Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.

When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”

Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.

Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.

“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.

The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.

“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”

Steve nods and turns back.

Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.

Eddie watches Wayne curiously.

Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.

Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”

“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.

Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.

“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.

“It won’t. Keep going.”

When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.

“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”

Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.

“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.

“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”

Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”

Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.

Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.

He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.

“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”

Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.

They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.

Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.

So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.

He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.

He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.

He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.

He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.

📼📼📼📼📼

Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.

He’s never been happier.

He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.

Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.

Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.

After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.

Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.

Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.

“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”

Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.

As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.

“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.

“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”

“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.

“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”

“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.

“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”

“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”

“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.

“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.

Steve shakes his head, watching closely.

“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”

Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.

“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”

Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.

“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”

Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.

“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”

Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.

“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”

Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.

“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”

Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.

“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”

Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.

All he really has is Wayne.

“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”

Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.

But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.

“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”

“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”

Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.

“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.

“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”

Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.

Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.

As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.

“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.

“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”

“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.

“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.

“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”

“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.

“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”

Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.

It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.

He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.

Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.

And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.

Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”

Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.

“Sounds good.”

Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.

“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.

“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”

Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.

They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.

Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.

He doesn’t care to hide it.

Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.

“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.

“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.

“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”

Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.

Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.

He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.

“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.

Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”

They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.

It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.

“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”

Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.

To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.

“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”

Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”

“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”

“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”

Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”

Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.

“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.

“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.

Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.

When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.

He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.

But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.

“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.

“Now.”

“It’s dark.”

“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.

“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.

Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.

“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.

“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”

Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.

Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.

“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.

Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.

When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.

“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”

“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”

Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.

Being here with Eddie is perfect.

Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.

“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.

“Just a little more.”

Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.

When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.

Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.

“Okay?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”

Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.

“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”

Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.

“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”

Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.

“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”

Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.

“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”

Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.

“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”

Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.

“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”

Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.

“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”

Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.

But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.

“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”

Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”

Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”

Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.

Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.

“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”

Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.

“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.

“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”

“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”

Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.

“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.

“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”

Steve nods. That’s all he can do.

Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.

Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.

Eddie shivers in his arms.

“Cold?” Steve whispers.

Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”

So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.

When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.

They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.

Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.

The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.

“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”

Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.

“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.

Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.

“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.

“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.

Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.

Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.

“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.

Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.

“New record for me, too, baby.”

“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.

“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.

“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”

“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.

“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”

“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.

“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.

Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.

“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”

Steve smiles shyly back at him.

“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”

Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”

“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.

“I really do.”

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.

Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.

He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.

Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.

The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.

He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.

His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.

Eddie is close enough now.

It’s definitely a heart.

“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”

“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”

“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”

“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.

“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”

“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”

“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”

“So do I.”

Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.

“Fine.”

As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.

“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.

“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”

Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”

“Touché.”

Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.

“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”

“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”

“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.

Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.

“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.

“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.

“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”

Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.

Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”

Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.

“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”

“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”

Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.

“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.

“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“

Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.

“Jesus, the mouth on you.”

“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”

“I’ll make the rest.”

Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.

He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.

He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.

This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

five years later

Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.

When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.

“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.

“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”

Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned.

Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.

Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.

“I hate the outdoors.”

“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.

Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.

He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.

Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.

They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.

“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”

“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”

Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.

“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.

“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”

“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”

As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.

He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.

Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.

“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.

“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.

“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.

“Ha!” Steve yells.

Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Solomon and Simeon (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Main Masterlist

CW: spoilers for Simeon's character development in the OG game (I haven't played NB yet).

A/N: brace yourselves for Simeon's part because I still can't write him.

.

Solomon – He will inevitably lose you

From all the things he thought he would miss when he reached immortality, being able to remember his exact age wasn’t one of them; and yet, there was the regret.

He tells himself is not that deep; that reaching the thousands is already an impressive achievement, but lying to himself has its limits.

Maybe, if he hadn’t been so occupied tracking demons of interest and travelling the realms in search of knowledge, he would’ve had the time to keep score and be aware of just how long he had been roaming amongst the rest of his kind.

Maybe, if those who cared for him stayed longer than their perishable bodies allowed, someone would’ve been there to remind him.

And there were only so many burials he could attend before finally throwing the towel and accepting the emotional safety of solely seeking the company of immortals like him.

But then, centuries later, the human exchange program happens and you make him feel like reuniting with an old friend, even if you’ve never met before.

So he listens to experience.

So he remembers all those funerals he’d attended in the past; all those faces lost to time and inevitable death.

You’re way too enticing to ignore and of course, there’s the need to protect the fellow human surrounded by demons (never mind he acts like one too), but he knows how to stay occupied and at a distance, keeping his feelings at bay.

Casual friendship is the limit he willingly stops at.

He knows that if he allows himself to accept and reciprocate your love, the only important number in his life wouldn’t be his age anymore, but the day he’d inevitably lose you forever.

Tears pooled in his eyes as a violent coughing fit made him bend over, lungs pushing themselves up his throat in an attempt to escape from the stench and the toxic effects of the room’s atmosphere.

Ventilation.

He needed to open the windows.

It was like a cloud had entered his laboratory; a dense, humid fog that barely covered the furniture and crushed against the walls like a rot-smelling milky tide.

Still, Solomon wasn’t sure whether his tears were caused by the abnormal air around him or that unpleasant nightmare he just had.

Although he tried not to think about it, especially the heartbroken expression on your face, the scene did nothing more but repeat in his mind. His words and reasoning carried some logic, yet he couldn’t imagine a universe where that would’ve ever happened.

He enjoyed risks and danger but had never been masochist enough to deny himself of your company; on the contrary, the sole idea of spending time with you was usually a strong motivation to finish his work quickly and make some free time in his schedule, so rejecting being your lover was the strangest and unlikeliest idea he could’ve ever had.

Making that damn potion sure was another one.

Ironically, it was supposed to be a gift for you to use with him as a bonding couple activity, a concoction he had been experimenting on for days to use as introspection into your relationship. His original intention was to glimpse into your possible futures and even your alternative pasts, to see which other ways you had fallen in love with each other; not to witness a rejection.

Had that happened, then? In another timeline? Or had that nightmare been a fragment of his sad imagination?

Thankfully, the air inside the laboratory started to purify the moment he opened the window. He felt his thoughts return to rational and realistic as the fresh breeze of the Devildom night hit him right in his face. The fog, icy and moist, slithered around him and past the window into the darkness, dissipating and completely disappearing from his line of sight. However, behind him, the potion was still bubbling and rattling the cauldron, threatening to throw it to the ground.

Was it the measurements? The temperature of the fire? The direction of the stirring?

Trial and error; success didn’t come one’s way by dumb luck.

With a flick of the wrist and a sour scowl, he magically extinguished the overworked flames and threw the dangerous mixture down the drain.

It would be better to leave his experiment alone for a few more days, though. Perhaps even a week. That would be enough time for him to forget the dreadful nightmare, or at least try to do so. Until then, he’d leave the windows open, hoping the scattered fog didn’t affect any unsuspecting creature on the street, and close the laboratory under lock and key.

Solomon would buy you flowers and sweets and each good thing you deserved in life until the day came when he could give you something better.

Trial and error.

Simeon – The consequences could be fatal

You see.

He lived through the cautionary tale, a horrific incident that affected everyone involved, so he is painfully aware of how any potential intimacy between you two could end.

It doesn’t necessarily have to be like that, of course, but he knows that if he gets to love you, he’ll take risks and chances. Everything you could ever need, Simeon would give you, and not even the pearly gates of the Celestial Realm would be enough to stop him.

Lillith’s treason against their home in favour of her human lover would repeat in his hands if the situation required it.

His love runs deep and he knows so from the very first moment he sees you.

Although, at first, there isn’t anything extraordinary about your friendship.

He still appreciates it. It’s a carefree arrangement, for lack of a better word, light and kind in nature, and it helps him ease into the Devildom in a way he didn’t think existed.

You hang out sometimes, mostly because of Luke and his strong angelic need to protect your pure human soul, and you study together every once in a while, but your shared time isn’t enough to spark the flames of romantic attraction.

It’s easier to let you go when you have seven demanding demons trailing behind you like lost puppies; an amusing sight and a welcomed one.

And still, you choose him.

Why?

Is it his gentle demeanour? Or the determination shining underneath? Is it because he’s so different from the brothers, who show no remorse in admitting their darkest desires regarding their love for you?

He feels forced to reject you and he does as such, basking in the reassurance that you’ll both keep your friendship intact.

Don’t be mistaken; he loves you as well, but he doesn’t feel like that love belongs to the angel he used to be.

It was a melodic sound what woke him up, a tune he recognized as a warning coming from his new laptop.

Frowning and groaning in discomfort, Simeon brushed his hair away from his forehead and tried to rub off the imprints left on his skin by the keyboard. The document in front of him was full of random letters and numbers, no wonder a product of his unconsciously moving head, and a message on the screen asked for his authorization to carry out some type of order.

He didn’t quite fully understand what it asked, so, as per your usual requests, he closed the laptop and kept it inside his backpack.

Now at least he had a reason to visit you.

Not like he needed one, but the brothers, especially Lucifer, tended to leave you both alone more frequently if there was.

Thinking about them made the nightmare reappear and remain fresh in his mind, but somehow, surprisingly, it didn’t bother him as much as It should’ve. While the aspect of rejecting you hurt his heart in a special way, he knew he ultimately didn’t do it and chose the better option; but it was everything else what was stopping him from forgetting about it before leaving to see you.

He was changing, wasn’t he? It wasn’t your fault, you were merely an adding factor, but the truth was undeniable.

No longer the angel he used to be and neither a human, there were parts of himself he couldn’t keep ignoring. The darkness within that could compete with a demon’s, Lord Diavolo’s inability to read him as fast as he would anyone else and his willingness to bend the rules he had been taught should you ever need him to.

Lillith’s presence is blurry in his memories after so many years, but he would never be able to fully forget her; how could he ever do that? She fell in love and risked what she had and what she was to preserve it, although it ended in tragedy.

And still, he understood her.

Solomon’s and Luke’s voices reached him from the living room, bringing him back to reality. Besides his slow breathing and an unclosed faucet, the bathroom was otherwise silent. Droplets of water ran down his face like tears, but his eyes were dry and hardened by his thoughts. His reflection in the mirror seemed tired and he dreaded how his actual appearance might look. You would ask about it, no doubt, but what would he answer? He didn’t even know the full truth himself.

Glimpses of self-reflection and fragments of a realistic nightmare weren’t enough to dissipate your worries, so it’d be better for everyone if he kept hiding, at least for the moment.

Sweet actions and sweet words shielded by the honest love he felt for you.

The truth would come out eventually, but, until then, let the nightmares remain a mere fragment of his world-renowned imagination.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @books-and-catears

[sashaforthewin]

The mosh pit was intense. 

Steve had never been to a concert with moshing, but after a few moments of assessing the situation while trying to protect Dustin, he got the hang of it. There seemed to be one main focused clump of violence and then the edges where people were taking hits but not giving them. Steve instinctively knew this was where he was meant to go, so he positioned himself between the moshers and his charge. Dustin, unfortunately, seemed completely clueless and kept trying to get around Steve to get in on the fun. 

Upon closer observation, Steve noticed that the pit, while chaotic, wasn't actually as violent as he first thought. If someone went down, everyone around them pulled the person up. No fists were colliding. It was wild and bodies were slamming into each other, but it didn't seem life-threatening. So Steve looked at Dustin and said, "once around and then back here," before stepping aside and letting Dustin into the chaos.

Steve's eyes tracked Dustin's progress around the pit while he continued to take the hits the people behind him clearly didn't want to take. Bodies slammed against him, but there was something about it that was starting to be fun. There was a sort of camaraderie to the whole thing.

The moshing was moving in a sort of slow clockwise rotation, seemingly without anyone consciously choosing to do so. But then a guy slammed into Steve from the opposite direction, swimming against the stream, as it were, laughing and smiling. He looked at Steve and then did a double take.

"Hi," the guy said, now standing still within the mosh pit, unphased by the bodies slamming into him from all angles as he took Steve's hand in a slow shake, staring at him with huge dark eyes and a wide smile. 

"Hi," Steve responded. 

"I love your hair!" The guy said, still holding onto Steve's hand.

"Thanks, I love your vest!"

"Thanks, do you-" he started to ask but was cut off when the pit started to speed up and everyone started slam-dancing in a faster rotation. The guy was swept away into the circle and Steve lost sight of him.

Steve blinked. Then he saw Dustin, whose loud shirt was much easier to spot at a distance, and yanked him out of the circle pit. He could sort of see the guy every once in a while but the pit had him now so Steve continued his barrier duties of protecting the general crowd from the moshing and Dustin continued enjoying the raucous music.

As soon as the song ended, the guy popped back up next to Steve. 

"I love your energy, by the way. I haven't seen you at any shows around. I'm Eddie," he said, flirty, taking Steve's hand again, not really shaking it but more formal than the typical holding hands. 

"I'm Steve. Ow, and this is Dustin who I babysit because he is an immature little child," Steve said, rubbing the back of his leg where Dustin had kicked him.

Dustin was glaring.

"Dude, you don't have to call it babysitting, I'm fifteen."

"Don't worry, little fella, maybe your hot babysitter will invite me over some night he's watching you so we can hang out without you after your bed time."

"Ew. Also, he makes out with women, he likes women," Dustin proclaimed. 

"And more," Steve shrugged, still staring and smiling at Eddie. 

"More, huh? Well I am most definitely more."

Steve had never gone after a guy before, but he couldn't deny the appeal of someone so obviously really attracted to him. His inability to tell if he liked someone or if he liked that they liked him had caused him issues in the past and it sure wasn't showing signs of stopping any time soon, so he just embraced it. He was always willing to give it a shot and see what happened. 

So, with that in mind they exchanged numbers and then got to chatting. Dustin got bored and snuck off back to the mosh pit and Steve decided he could deal with whatever consequences he ended up with, which later turned out to be a bunch of bruises and a bloody, but unbroken, nose. 

But in the meantime, Steve and Eddie discovered they were both in Chicago for the concert and were actually both from the same town, though about as far away from each other as they could possibly live while still being in the town limits. They made plans to hang out at the Hideout the following weekend just in case they lost each other's numbers, and then they were rudely interrupted by Dustin turning up with blood pouring out of his nose. Eddie grabbed them some bar napkins and Steve decided they'd better call it a night. 

"Here, little man, we can trade shirts so you don't have to jumpscare your parents with gore. I like Weird AL and I don't mind being covered in blood. That sounded weird, don't take that the wrong way, Steve."

After some grumbling, Dustin and Eddie swapped shirts. Steve thanked him for being so considerate and kind by pulling him in by the hand and placing a small kiss on his lips, which Eddie eagerly reciprocated and the two made out hot and heavy for a moment until Dustin yelled at them and dragged Steve away.

Eddie just stood there smiling and watching his future husband get pulled out of the club by a disgruntled teen now rocking a Corroded Coffin shirt. After they were out of sight, he sighed wistfully and then headed back into the new circle pit that was just forming. 

[kierahn]

yandere police officer x wanted criminal male reader :D?

A GAME OF TAG. [ y ! police officer x m ! criminal reader ]

yandere ! police officer x criminal ! male reader

warnings:

suggestive content (16+)

agressive handling from yan! officer

request/ask here.

a rushed update since i haven't posted in a while :] i have a long weekend ahead, i might be able to catch up with writing some of the piled up requests in my inbox.

× silas cromwell. it was a known fact to everyone in town that he and you were long-term rivals; like the two opposing sides of a coin. you were his favorite criminal. but you ? you didn't really like him that much; all snugged and smug in his police uniform. you were not one to get along with his kind too well.

× this game of cat and mouse between you and silas had been going on for about 2 years now. the young officer would always find himself facing a dead end everytime he tried to uncover your real identity. it was a pain in the ass for silas to chase someone he didn't know much about around.

× it was a frustratingly long chase, but silas would always find himself grinning at the thought of emerging as the victor of this game of chase you had started. little by little, his obssession with you grew.

× and, finally, he claimed sweet victory. what was more sweeter than having the most notorious mastermind himself in his grasp ? after 2 years of restlessly pursuing you, he finally had you on the tip of his fingers.

× "so what do you intend to do now, dear officer ?" the criminal asks smugly, his hands cuffed behind him and a blindfold taking away his vision as he sat on his knees before the officer. a delicious sight for silas to take in. "hand me over to the 'authorities' ? let their so-called justice deal with me ? tell me," you continued to prod him for answers, your smug smile never fading. oh, how he would love to break through that confident facade of yours.

× "i believe you don't fully understand, y/n." silas draws out after snapping out of his thoughts, standing before your kneeled form. a cold hand placed itself under your chin, sending a shiver up your spine. "i'm the authority. i'll be the one delivering justice." his voice dropped to a hauntingly low tone, holding a hint of threat that made something inside of you click.

× all this time, you've been the one in charge of leading the chase between you two; the one who was always on top of the game you yourself started. but now silas had taken the control out of your hands.

× "it seems like you're finally starting to realize," silas' voice started to move around you, your lack of sight heightening your sense of hearing. "GH–!" a harsh blow to your stomach causes you to slouch over in pain, a pained groan escaping your lips.

× you violently coughed, the harsh kick causing your breath to stop for a second. you pant heavily, drool spilling from your lips. for a flimsy officer like him, silas really knew how to use his feet to make it hurt. "that was very foul move, officer–" a cough, then a mocking laugh. "kicking down a defenseless opponent is completely unnecessary."

× a tug to your hair and a large hand encasing your cheeks tightly into a bruising grip. your laid-back attitude was starting to get on his nerves. why weren't you cowering in fear before him like he had expected ? you weren't taking him seriously at all.

× "y/n l/n, you have some nerve." you could sense that silas was very, very close to you with how his hot breath kissed the tip of your nose. however, you remained unfazed. you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you all vulnerable.

× but he would get his satisfaction either way. he always gets his way. "maybe we can find a better use for that pretty mouth of yours." his grip on your cheeks slightly loosened, his thumb glazing over your lower lip.

× "consider this my reward for winning this childish game of tag."

[antiquarianfics]

Dark and Bloody Ground

So you violently murdered a man? So what? You did it in the name of love.

a/n: This is super loosely inspired by the song "Dark and Bloody Ground" by Ruston Kelly. Great song if you haven't heard it. Anyway, this is super gory and violent, but it's still a little fluffy... Hope you like it.

warning(s): Profanity, gore, extreme violence, sort of a hostage type situation, only kind of proofed.

note: I do not own Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliate characters.

You do not have permission to steal or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

Blood. Blood everywhere. It’s on the ground, on the body, on your hands, on your face. The scene looks as if a toddler was given a box of crayons—all shades of red—and a coloring sheet. It’s horrific. Blood splattered, crayon scribbled—however you look at it.

Your breathing is erratic, heavy breaths shake your body as your lungs struggle to take in air. You’ve over exerted yourself, but you can’t find even a smidgen of a fuck to give.

There’s a dull ache in your knees where you’re sat on them; you lean back to distribute some weight onto your heels. Once your knees are slightly alleviated, you become more aware of the constant ringing in your ears, the ringing that has been constant since the moment you pulled your weapon. Then, you notice the soreness in your fingers and glance down to where your hands are clenched in fists, your knuckles busted and bruised. Looking around, you see a bloodied knife a few feet away: your gun is still in its holster.

You look up at the bloodbath in front of you—the dead men in front of you.

Did I even pull my gun?

The ringing in your ears is deafening, and you can’t focus on anything other than the carnage. Or, you can’t until you hear Bucky call for you. Wait. Bucky.

The moment your brain processes Bucky’s voice, it’s as if someone hits the fast forward button until your brain catches up with what is actively happening around you. The ringing squeals until it doesn’t; your head swivels until your eyes lock on their target.

“Y/N,” Bucky repeats. “Doll.” He slides next to you on his knees slowly, grimacing slightly as he moves.

Bucky’s eyes are filled with worry, his every movement cautious. He takes in your current state, but he saw the whole thing. He saw you kill the man who lay dead before you. He watched as the deceased attempted to fight back, how he got a few minor licks in, and how it was for naught. Still, though, Bucky is cautious as he looks at you--as he tries to make sure you're okay.

"Oh, baby," you say, voice low and hoarse. You smile softly and raise a hand to cup Bucky's cheek. "Oh, how I've missed you."

Bucky smiles sadly, his own hand reaching up to cup your cheek. "I've missed you, too."

"Are you okay?" You ask, concern palpable.

"I am now. You've got me, Doll."

You nod. "Yeah, I've got you."

Bucky looks around the facility he'd been held prisoner in for weeks. The drab appearance had changed quickly in your fury; he'd never seen you like that before.

—

Bucky coughed as the HYDRA operative kicked him in the gut. In most cases, Bucky would have already killed the guy, but he'd been starved and neglected for days, pumped full of a chemical that lessened the effectiveness of the super soldier serum, and his body thus has been struggling to fight off a nasty infection from a three day old stab wound.

"I'll ask again, Winter Soldier. Where is it?" The man in charge, an unassuming man in a pressed gray suit, asks in an even tone.

"I'll tell 'ya again," Bucky spits, "fuck. you."

"Very well. Again." The man waves his hand carelessly in a 'go ahead' motion.

The HYDRA operative kicks Bucky again. That's when the door to the torture chamber opens, and there you stand with a stolen keycard held to the door.

Your eyes land on Bucky on the ground, then they shift to the operative carrying out the torture, and then they settle on the man in the suit. Bucky knows you see red.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward and hit the button to shut the door behind you, stopping an escape. Then, in a flash, you've thrown your knife into the HYDRA operative's head. The operative drops, his body twitching slightly before stilling, and blood slowly begins to pool from his cracked skull.

The moment the knife leaves your hand, you step forward and swing at the man in the suit. The man side steps, lets out a 'Who do you think you are?' before being silenced by your fist to his jaw. You punch the man again and he stumbles backward; he quickly manages to get his footing and takes a swing at you. He lands a punch to your gut and one to your face, but neither deters you. You pivot around him as he lunges forward and then kick him in the back. The man falls to the ground, manages to turn over onto his back, and he is immediately met by another right hook to the face as you jump on him. You straddle the guy as you repeatedly hit him: you feel as the man's jaw cracks, as his cheekbone splinters. You're vaguely aware when each hit feels less solid, when the man beneath you finally stills. You feel weightless, a bit gone, as you slide off of the man onto your knees, sitting back on your heels.

—

"We gotta get out of here," Bucky says, shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts of you murdering for him.

You nod and stand up with a light groan, grasping Bucky's hand and pulling him up with you. You let him wrap his arm around your shoulders, helping him walk as you make your escape.

—

Hours later, you and Bucky have not said much to one another. When you made it back to the jet, you were more worried about patching Bucky up and getting him something to eat than talking. Then, when he tried to say something, you shushed him and told him to get some rest. Now, though, as you're sitting next to his hospital bed in the med bay, and now that you know he's alright, you finally choose to talk about what happened.

"Bucky?" You say quietly, trying not to disturb him if he's asleep. You're hoping, selfishly, that he is.

"Hmm?" He hums, turning his head slightly and opening his tired eyes to look at you.

"I'm sorry. About today. I, uh. I know that was a lot..."

"Sweetheart, it's okay. You saved me. I should be thanking you; you shouldn't be apologizing."

You give him a tense smile.

"It's just. When I saw what they were doing to you... I saw red, Buck. I was so angry at them for hurting you, and I was scared. I just... I didn't think. But they didn't have to do all those awful things to you."

"I know."

"It makes me sick to think about."

"I know."

"You deserve so much better."

"I know."

You raise an eyebrow, disbelievingly.

"You do?"

"Well, I better. My girl violently killed two men because she thinks so."

You giggle. Despite everything, you giggle. Bucky smiles.

"Anyway," Bucky says, a light tone enveloping his words, "you know what they say."

"What's that?"

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," he teases.

"Especially when she has on her killing shoes," you laugh lightly.

"Mhmm. C'mere, Lizzie Borden." He holds out an arm for you as he scoots over to make room. You climb into the small bed with him, tucking yourself away into his embrace.

"I love you," you whisper.

"I love you, too," he replies, pressing a kiss into your hair.

[badaziraphaletakes]

Making jokes and laughing about a frightening experience does NOT mean someone does not appreciate the gravity of a situation. Quite the contrary, in fact - it is a very, very common way of processing trauma.

In fact, I can't offhand think of any traumatized people I know who haven't make a joke about their traumatic experience/s. It's a deeply normal, human thing to do.

(And please don't try to tell me Aziraphale seeing Crowley be kidnapped and then being hit over the head with a crowbar (?), violently kidnapped himself, and dragged to hell, and then seeing the awful people and place Crowley had been stuck with for the past 100k+ years, witnessing the usher being murdered in cold blood before his eyes, and wondering if the same thing might happen to him, and/or if he hell was going to discover his and Crowley's secret, not to mention seeing for probably the first time what exactly the thermos of holy water would have done to Crowley if he'd used it, wasn't traumatic. First of all, that just is. Second of all, look at his irises. He was probably having a bit of fun - not surprising considering how relieved he was that the holy water didn't work on him and hell appeared not to have caught onto the deception; of course you'd be a bit giddy - but he was also terrified and scarred and angry and disgusted and I don't even know what else.)

There's a reason the rates of depression found among comedians are off-the-charts. And it's not because humor causes depression (we know it actually alleviates it). It's because traumatized people and people with mental illness (I mean, the Venn diagram between those groups is basically a circle, but y'know) gravitate to humor. It is one of the most powerful weapons we have to ward off despair. Humor can save us when nothing else can.

It can also stop you from wanting to punch someone when you're really, really angry. I propose that we can see smoldering contempt and fury and outrage and disgust on Aziraphale's face at the end of the scene, hidden just under that cheeky grin. It's some masterful acting work by Tennant, so many emotions going on at the same time.

Also - may I point out that Crowley loved Aziraphale's jokes about the whole thing. Aziraphale knows how to cheer Crowley up. A big part of the reason he was so sarcastic in hell was for Crowley, to score some points against the people who have been oppressing him for millennia without him ever being able to answer back. (And also he was acting that way because he figured it was how Crowley would act and he had to be convincing. If he'd gone in there and hadn't been 100% confidence and swagger, hell would have noticed something was off. They're paranoid, and Beelzebub, at least, is smart. No flies on that one. Heh, heh. Did Aziraphale overplay it a bit? Maybe. But the deception worked, so clearly his approach was correct overall.)

And finally: Don't tell me Crowley wasn't having a little fun with all this, too. His laugh on the bench was sincere:

He could arguably also be accused of overplaying it a bit with the neck cracking (which I don't blame him for; I would have done the same - but I don't see anyone getting mad at him for having a little fun the way they did with Azi):

And he LOVED getting to breathe fire at Gabriel & Co.

Which is exactly as it should be. :)

[leclerc-s]

snow angel - track six

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maia_bennett and we don't talk shit about you on the internet...

tagged: landonorris, carlossainz55

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user1 oh my god is she for real?

landonorris pretty girl 🧡

↳ maia_bennett pretty boy 🧡

user2 this has got to be some sort of joke, right?

lilymhe lol.

↳ user3 this is the most threatening lol i've ever see. period and everything.

alex_albon LMFAOOOOOO

↳ user4 most unserious driver on the grid.

↳ user5 we don't talk about alex's chaos enough

francesca.cgomes see this caption would work if we didn't all know what carlos and lando did in the spanish media.

↳ user6 SPEAK THE TRUTH KIKA!!

user7 you've got to be fucking kidding me...

user8 oh no. honey this isn't the flex you think it is.

luisinhaoliveira99 oh sweetie...

user9 i pray you're ready for the shit storm that is about to hit you.

alex_albon LMFAOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

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liked by luisinhaoliveira99, maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 and others

rheareynolds "but for what it's worth, he's her problem now."

tagged: luisinhaoliveira99, maia_bennett, landonorris

user10 MOTHER!! MOTHER IS MOTHERING Y'ALL!!

user11 oh, she's so cunty and i love that.

lilymhe everyday i am grateful i live on the same earth as rhea reynolds.

↳ rheareynolds oh lily, you sure know how to make a girl blush.

luisinhaoliveira99 oh girl, i fucking love you.

↳ rheareynolds baby, i fucking love you 😘. no one show this to mick!

↳ mickschumacher this is a public instagram comment section...

↳ rheareynolds LOVE YOU TOO BABE 💙!

maxverstappen1 see, i can't tell if those are lyrics or someone told you that but either way, YOU ATE THAT SHIT UP!!

↳ rheareynolds why thank you maximilian.

↳ maxverstappen1 i'll let it slide, just this once.

georgerussell63 SHE CAME TO SERVE!!

↳ rheareynolds CHANNELED MY INNER RUSSELL GEORGE FOR THIS PHOTOSHOOT!!

francesca.cgomes ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS!

↳ rheareynolds I HAD THE BEST TEACHER!

user12 oh she's so unhinged and i fucking love that shit.

oscarpiastri i just heard the most unholy screech come from the dining hall. target has been reached.

↳ rheareynolds good. he deserves this and much worse.

logansargeant YES QUEEN!! SERVING CUNT!!

↳ rheareynolds LOGIE! THANK YOU! ❤️

yukitsunoda0511 my offer still stands.

↳ rheareynolds no yuki, you are not biting his ankles while pierre holds him down.

↳ pierregasly BOO!! LET US TAKE HIM DOWN!!!

maia_bennett real mature rhea. real mature.

↳ rheareynolds oh honey, we haven't even scratched the surface.

charles_leclerc THAT'S MY BESTIE!!

↳ rheareynolds what an iconic duo, regina george and lightning mcqueen.

alex_albon REGINA GEORGE CAME TO GAG LANDO NO WINS!

↳ rheareynolds albono, i think you gagged him even more with the no wins.

maxfretwell let be known that i had no idea what was going on. i just thought she was your best friend.

↳ rheareynolds no it's okay maxie, i don't blame you for having a shitty best friend.

pierre gasly added one person

kika gomes i can't believe i'm saying this but what the hell guys? why wasn't i added sooner??

rhea reynolds you're the only sane one.

lily muni he if the loser shows up with her can i fight him??

yuki tsunoda i'll help! daniel ricciardo you two are so violent.

esteban ocon when mick said lando had cheated on you with your childhood best friend, i didn't think he meant maia, who knew you two were together. and constantly hung out together with you two.

mick schumacher i told you guys it was bad!

oscar piastri ...

alex albon WHAT DO YOU KNOW PIASTRI?? oscar piastri she's been to every single race this year... the girl he showed up with in bahrain was a fake girlfriend. he's been dating her for months. oscar piastri and i learned that every time lando said he was hanging out with carlos, he was with her. don't ask how i learned.

rhea reynolds THAT MOTHER FUCKER!!

rhea reynolds oh he's fucking lucky i could go to jail for murder.

rhea reynolds i had a different song planned to be the next single but i changed my fucking mind. fuck lando norris, fuck carlos sainz, and fuck maia bennett. i hope they enjoy their little corner in hell.

lily muni he oh regina george has not come to play.

george russell i think you mean leighton murray did not come to play.

lewis hamilton i have you all muted for a reason but please, make him miserable. it's the least he deserves.

rhea reynolds oh my manager is about to be so pissed at me but what lewis hamilton says goes.

pierre gasly BURN THE BITCH RHEA!

yuki tsunoda I'M GOING TO HIS FUCKING ANKLES!

daniel ricciardo GET HIS FUCKING ASS!!

kika gomes YOU DESTROY THAT MAN RHEA!

logan sargeant WE WILL DESTROY HIS FUCKING PEACE!

lance stroll to quote yuki, "we ride at dawn fuckers"

logan sargeant SHE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE JUGULAR!

alex albon i am in awe of you rhea reynolds.

lewis hamilton i think you've outdone yourself rhea.

lily muni he marry me. forget alex and mick. marry me.

kika gomes no! marry me! rhea reynolds fuck it, we'll marry each other. throuple all the way.

mick schumacher trust me. it gets worse.

charles leclerc HOW MUCH MORE WORSE COULD IT POSSIBLY GET?

mick schumacher think like dear john by taylor

lily muni he oh shit. it's that bad?

max verstappen WHATEVER I GET TO MAKE HIM FUCKING MISERABLE!

yuki tsunoda FUCK YEAH! I'M BITING ANKLES BITCHES

oscar piastri OSCAR PIASTRI REPORTING FOR DUTY!!

kika gomes that man will never know peace as long as we live

pierre gasly he hasn't known peace since december 2021

kika gomes good, then we're doing our job as her friends.

oscar piastri there is nothing i enjoy more than slowly torturing my teammate

daniel ricciardo chaotic aussies and mclaren. something they can never get away from.

logan sargeant listen, if we host a listening party, at the same time, in different garages. he can't really shit on any of us.

max verstappen so what you mean is, all of us play tummy hurts, on a loop to annoy him?

charles leclerc SIGN ME THE FUCK UP! ANYTHING TO ANNOY HIM AND HIS PARTNERS IN CRIME!

lance stroll I'M IN! FERNANDO'S IN TOO!!

rhea reynolds i seriously love you guys.

lily muni he rhea, baby, we love you too.

oscar piastri i enjoy chaos. we aren't quite at the love phase rhea.

rhea reynolds oh fuck you swimp.

logan sargeant SWIMP!!

oscar piastri OH FUCK OFF!

taglist: @emilyval @ihateyougunthersteiner @lesliiieeeee @33-81 @landonorizzz @yoremins @nikfigueiredo @badassturtle13 @cataf1 @silentreader128 @taylorsatl @alessioayla @greeneyesandsunshine @mrscharlesleclerc @sesamepancakes @localwhoore @vettelsebastianvettel @yourbane @nichmeddar @landossainz @cha-hot @ssararuffoni @cherry-piee @vroomvroommuppett @shineforever19 @kissesandmartinis @luckyladycreator2 @blushmimi @namgification @moonyzsworld @casperlikej @lilsiz @seesaw-it @aandreea2005 @asparklysoul @scarletwidow3000 @reader-22s-blog @cowboylikemets1989

not taggable: @wisteriafence @Pinksstrawberry

click here to be added to the taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! no cause if there was no more drama there this story would end so much sooner and we don't want that yet.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[swampstew]

Ok so I am basing this ask off this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/stuckinthewrongworld/754204449503870976?source=share

Could you do this with Law, Kid, and/ or Zoro please? You guys have some fun, but have to go your separate ways for a little bit, but end up in the same place again just a few months later. You've been so busy, you haven't noticed the changes to your body, only that you're more tired, but you think it's just because of everything you've had to accomplish. But he notices right away, because he remembered every little detail about you. Maybe your shirt lifts up and he notices? Or you have a tight fitting shirt on? Idk I'm so in love with this concept I NEED to read it!

-🐍

Hebi the way I had to be on life support for this....the way my uterus was like ok time to be a problem since my womb is empty from this...I could only knock out (HAHAHAHAHA) one for Kid but I plan to repost it along with Law and Zoro's POVs at a later time. Brain only light up for Punk tonight.

Summary: You have a casual relationship with Eustass Kid, a here and there type of thing. At least that's how it felt on your end. You didn't know he felt about you, the way he sees you, the way he wants you. No matter what. No bumps in the road can sway him. CW: Eustass Kid x F Reader, accidental pregnancy scenario - something short and sweet based off this post | no actual smut, all fluff and tenderness from someone so brash and violent

Kid clocks it right away. He’s so eager when he sees you, finding you on the dock instantly, and the first thing he notices are the dark circles under your eyes and your breasts look particularly perky in your top. He makes himself known, to your surprise, pulling you into a giant hug and asks you if you’re ok.

You tell him you’re just tired from work and your social battery was pretty much drained all the time, but you are happy to see him again. His hand traces your sallow cheeks as you tell him what you’ve been up to before he decides he’s going to carry you to the nearest food stall to get you both something to eat. He holds you while you hold the bags of food, cradled against his muscular chest as he takes long, impatient strides to your home. He’s going to get to the bottom of this and he wants to do it without his crew hovering.

He tells you about his adventures while you eat, if it can be called eating since you a few bites before you looked queasy, abandoning your plate and drinking ginger ale instead. Kid pushes his plate away and brings you to your feet, bringing you to his chest as he his hands gently caress your hips.

“I’ve been gone for a while now. Has anything happened?”

“Hm? Aside from taking on more work to pass the time, not really.”

“Nothing at all? Its been three months since we saw each other.”

“What are you getting at?” you ask irately, not liking the implication of his question.

Kid turns your body so your back is resting against his torso, metal hand holding you in place while his flesh fingers spread across your lower belly. The slow strokes made goosebumps erupt along your soft skin.

“You definitely didn’t have this last time…”

“ARE YOU CALLING ME F—?!” your yell is cut off as he covered your mouth.

“Y/N! Do the math!”

When your body starts trembling, he knows you made the connection and swiftly picks you up and takes you to your bed. Waiting to see if you would start the conversation.

“We never talked about an accident like this,” you whisper.

“No, so what are we going to do?”

“We?”

“Well…yeah. Unless you don’t want me involved…”

“I-I think I want too…but…sigh…I wouldn’t expect you to stay,” you whisper.

“You’re right I wouldn’t” he snorts, “Cause I’m taking you with me, idiot. No way in hell I’m letting you do this alone.”

[loveandmurders]

In love with a dangerous wild cat II

Hi everyone, it's been a hot minute I was supposed to make a part 2 of this request :"Can you pls do a chucky x fem reader x tiffany where you reject them ...like hard ...bcs they are obsessive little fucks but you are the love of theire lifes so they try to kidnap you but you beat their ass"

You can find part 1 here.

Hope you'll enjoy ! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, dangerous!reader, paranoid!reader, a few strong words, mentions of killing people, of blood, of violence, of sexual activities (minors DNI),

You knew the darkest place to hide in, in every city you were staying at. You were a shadow, always lurking around, always finding a safe haven because “you never know what could happen”. You were paranoid, but for once, you were right to be.

You couldn’t believe that those two crazy bitches found your home so easily. They almost got you! You were so annoyed at them and at yourself. You didn’t really know what to do. You could hide, you could run away all you wanted, it seemed like they would always find you again.

Plus, you hated to run away. You were a smart and dangerous killer; you despised more than anything to be some sort of prey.

The more you thought about the situation, and the more obvious the solution was appearing to you: you had to kill them before they could kidnap you.

However a little voice reminded you that you had the opportunity to kill them twice or three times already, and yet, you never deadly hurt them. It made you wonder why.

You never hesitated before and it was clearly not the first time some people tried to capture you. And you always killed them and threw their bodies away. So why haven't you killed the other two already?

There was no way you were seeing something in them like they were seeing something in you. No way. You were a lone wolf, a wild cat. You never stayed around people, except to find new prey. You never loved anyone. You only killed and enjoyed yourself in the darkness.

You decided it was time to turn the game around. You were going to hunt them down and to kill them. Yes, it was the most logical thing to do and then you would be able to get back to your usual lonely life.

When you found Charles and Tiffany, they were arguing in a crappy motel room. They were arguing about you. They disagreed on what to do next. Charles thought they needed to capture you a little more violently. He wasn’t too happy to have to hurt you, but if it was the only way to overpower you, he was willing to try that. Tiffany wanted to try and seduce you. She wanted to give you a new knife for instance and to offer you someone to kill, someone you could lash all your anger on, so you would be more eager to speak to them.

You were about to enter the room by the window - and murdered the two of them - but someone knocked at the door, so you stayed hidden, ready to strike.

Charles opened the door and a very nice looking couple entered the room. Tiffany and Charles instantly changed their behaviour, to be their most charming and trusting looking selves.

You watched them with great interest as you saw them playing with their new toys. You had no idea who those people were, but it didn’t matter. You were enjoying the way Tiffany and Charles were hurting them, torturing them, killing them.

You hadn’t thought they could have been that interesting. That they could have been so hot and desirable. Maybe you have been wrong to want to kill him so quickly. Maybe you could have fun with them first.

You shook your head. No, it was a terrible idea. 

You were about to leave, when Charles and Tiffany started to kiss. They were covered in their victims blood, they were magnificent. Charles undressed Tiffany as her hands roamed his body in want.

But they suddenly stopped, both feeling eyes on them. They had been too busy before, but now they could tell someone was watching them. You moved just in time, so they didn’t see you, but they were worried someone saw them.

This game lasted for a few days: you would find them, observe them and find them very arousing before disappearing. They would try to find you, but always missing you. They weren’t very patient, so you were better at this in the long run than them.

It was getting very frustrating for them, because you were their mate, you were their missing piece, you were needed. Why couldn’t you understand how wanted you were? They would take such good care of you…

One evening, Charles needed some alone time so he left the motel room. Tiffany decided to take a bath and relax, with some soft music playing in the background. She closed her eyes, taking in the warmth surrounding her.

She heard a noise, but thought Charles forgot something. She jumped when she saw you sat down on a chair, in a corner of the bathroom. She wanted to get up but you aimed your gun at her, and you shook your head.

“How about you stay where you are?” you hummed and she nodded, biting her bottom lip in desire. Why were you so perfect?

“Of course, sweetface, anything you wanna from me” she purred “I was hoping you’d come to us” she added

“I’ve found you several times. I’ve seen your way” you admitted and she hummed. She was quite reassured you had been their stalker. It was very hot too.

“What do you want from us? From me?” she asked, hoping you would want her

“I dislike being hunted down. But I enjoyed watching you. I usually just seduce and kill. You have skills, the two of you, I can’t deny that. But I’m no prey.”

“Of course not. We don’t want to hurt you and even less to kill you. We want to have fun with you, to make you one of us, that’s all” she explained “Our love is obsessive, I’m sorry if we have been a little bit too… violent in our way to show it to you” she added with her doe eyes

“I don’t like people usually and I don’t give a fuck about their ‘love’. And yet I haven’t killed the two of you. This is… bothering me” you added, staring into her eyes

“Maybe because you find us interesting” she replied “Let me show you how interesting I can be” she winked

You didn't know how this happened, but you ended naked in her bath, making her scream in pleasure. You were so busy with her that you didn’t hear Charles coming back. He leaned against the bathroom frame, quite enjoying the view that was greeting him. He believed that the sacrifices he made to the devil finally worked.

You unwillingly stopped playing with her just before she could come, as you stilled when you noticed Charles, who was covered in blood. She whimpered.

“Oh don’t stop for me, I quite like this” he smirked.

“How about you finish her and I watch” you replied as you moved to sit down at the opposite of where Tiffany was. She pouted and pleaded with Charles with her eyes.

“Only if we can show you how good we are after” he replied and you nodded. So he entered the bath, fully clothed.

They did take care of you. But you refused to stay. They didn’t want to fight with you anymore, so they let you go, quite hopeful you would come back to them for more.

Which you did. And quite often, for pleasure at first, and then also when you wanted people to hunt with. 

They understood it was useless to force you to stay or to come back, because it always ended in you disappearing for weeks. They understood that you were willing to come back only if you were free to do so. And the fact you kept finding them meant you always knew where they were, and that you did love them, in your own way.

Even if Tiffany was impatient and even if Charles was frustrated, the best thing they could do was to wait for you to come back. And to do whatever you had in mind.

You were loyal to them in a way, because you didn’t let anyone else touch you and you always make sure that they were unharmed before going to bed - even if you weren’t planning on spending the night with them (they didn’t know about that).

Before travelling away, Tiffany and Charles always waited for you, so they could let you know where they were going. And you always followed them, even if you never promised them you would. They knew they better not ask anyways.

You were their wild girl, their wild cat. And like every cats, you always came back home on you own.

[1000sunnygo]

One piece 1098

Oda.. What do you mean you've created a girl who escaped slavery then thrown her back to the hell and worse, for TWO years, being kidnapped right before the day that she eagerly looked forward to. This chapter is going to haunt me for days

Regardless of her small screentime, Ginny is not a nobody. She's essentially the mastermind of God Valley incident. She saved lives including Kuma's and never left his side - wishing to be his 'big sis' after Iva left. She had always been there to protect him. But thinking about it, Kuma couldn't reciprocate it the same way did he.

Ginny was Kuma's opposite - he'd hesitate, she'd jump into action. She knew she loved kuma and proposed him. She saw him being imprisoned and went to fight the King. She was bringing a balance to Kuma's life, which fell apart after she left. Ginny came to save Kuma time and time again, but in the two years of her kidnap, Kuma gave up on her.

"we raised hell to free you, Kumachi", opposing "I thought I'd never see you again." There's a clear difference between their mindsets.

Kuma became violent yes. But so far we haven't seen any hint that he teleported to Mariejeoise. There's already a record set by Fisher Tiger so it wasn't beyond the realm of possibilities, but Kuma was probably trapped by his trauma and abusive upbringing. He didn't think Ginny would be alive because his mother died.

But Ginny never gave up, she had remained firm with her convictions till the end. She loved a person and the child had genes of her abuser, but she carried the baby and gave birth to her, named her. Ginny was not a person who'd abandons someone.

She realized that sunlight would kill her, but she set sail alone and correctly navigated back to the church. Back to the home they once used to live in before they joined the revolutionaries. The place and its happy memories that probably never left her mind in the two years. The church is the place where she found her solace after her childhood slavery. She wanted her daughter to grow there, she wanted it to be her own grave.

What Ginny gave up on was Kuma's love. She knew he'd worry, she looked hideous and felt that she has no right to face him. "Don't you dare come here" - How prude of her to bloat about wanting to marry him, make him happy, to protect him - and then leave for two years and return with a baby? She knew he'd still love her, but she had no right to expect anything from him, for herself or her child.

"Tell the kind Kumachi, that I've always always loved him."

Kuma had always saved civilians from their miseries. She appreciated Kuma's benevolence.

But it doesn't make Ginny any less kind. For she had something Kuma lacked in his younger days. To fight tooth and nail for the ones that are important, and to never give up.

[disasterbuck]

impossible never has stopped you before

a 9-1-1 tsunami poem by luna

There's a moment of silence before it all breaks; he's standing beside you, his hand on your face. "You're gonna be okay," he promises you, and then calls you kid, and what can you do? But smile and love him and think he's divine and let the dark clouds be dispersed by his shine?

But all of that ends when you turn and you see a nightmare is coming – there's no time to flee.

"Where did all the water go?"

Impossible never has stopped you before so you pick up the boy and your feet hit the floor and "Get off the pier!" tears itself from your mouth as you run for your life and you pray for a drought.

Then the moment of impact rips you off your feet and you find yourself thrashing in darkness complete and you can't tell which way is the way to the sun and you're choking on water, it's filling your lungs. But your life is not at the top of your list and you'd happily die if it meant saving Chris so you kick through the water until you find air and scream 'til your lungs bleed when suddenly there–

"Christopher!" 

With him back in your arms cold but alive, you make sure he's safe and place him up high.

You both take a moment to get back your breath, glad you're alive; unbelievably blessed.

It doesn't occur to you, you could say no, when you hear cries for help you don't think – you just go. You allow all your training to take full control and adrenaline spurs you, it makes you feel bold.

One after another you help them all up until there's no room left on top of the truck. But that doesn't stop you, there's still more to save, and you reach for their hands as you're rocked by a wave.

And suddenly, though you don't even know how, you know Chris has fallen, you know that he's down

you know Chris has fallen you know that he's down

you know Chris has fallen you know that he'll…

drown

drown

drown

You jump in the water, forgetting to breathe, and you don't even feel getting hit by debris. The ocean is violent, it's spinning you round, and you know that you're screaming but can't hear a sound. You're desperate and careless, ignoring the risks; the more time that passes the more you feel sick. You search and you search as the wave goes back out and you've never in your whole life been more devout.

Then caught on some junk, you notice his glasses and as you retrieve them time no longer passes.

Your vision is blurred, you can't catch your breath. It feels like a knife cutting right through your chest.

"It's a good thing you're missing it. Hope you guys are having fun."

You gather your bearings and get back to work, resisting the urge to sink down to the earth.

Then someone has seen him and hope stirs anew which is good cause you need it to carry you through. The hours drag by and the day turns to night and you want to lie down but you're stubborn – you fight. So for now you keep moving and block out the dread cause you'll never forgive yourself if he is –

Not at the bakery south of the Strand and you've checked the emergency refugee camps. There's only one place that you haven't yet been but you don't want to go there, you don't want to see.

You're weary and aching, your heart is still racing, your breaths come out shaking– the phone's to your ear.

"I had him," you're saying, while silently praying, eyes constantly straying–

Heart stops.

"Eddie's here."

He sees you – and oh how you wish you could hide. You don't want to see the despair in his eyes. But there's no one else here, it's all up to you, so you open your mouth cause you know what to do.

You see realisation appear on his face and you wish you could take it back, somehow erase the pain that you're causing by telling him this but the only thing that could help now would be Chris.

"Christopher?" Yes that's right, you lost his son, but he's not looking at you – he's starting to run.

He's running; you turn and the world starts to spin, that boy over there, could that really be him?

"Dad!" he calls out and your legs start to shake and you watch as the two of them firmly embrace and relief washes over you – Chris is okay. At long last you can finally call it a day.

"He was looking for–"

"Buck,

what

happened

to you?"

[wannab-urs]

Ouroboros

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: You and Dave are two people with nothing left in the world but each other. You find each other starving, desperate, violent. WC: ~1200

Content/Warnings: Love as consumption, but it’s not quite love; oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV (do better!), blood, biting, really violent metaphors and similes, scratching, pinning, choking, marking, idk rough sex in general, everyone involved is emotionally unavailable and sad.

A/N: This is inspired by a blurb I wrote on violent expressions of love/love as consumption. I haven't written anything quite like this before so I guess lmk if you'd like a part two! Thanks to @atinylittlepain, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @gasolinerainbowpuddles, @amanitacowboy, @beskarandblasters, and @theywhowriteandknowthings for listening to me yell about it for two days and helping me along <3

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

I want to tell you a story / of snakes eating / their own tails, Swallowing themselves whole. I hope / you can guess that this story Is about love / and what people will do / to get a taste of it --@twinnedpeaks

Dave has lost everything. You can tell just by looking at him. There’s a desolation in his eyes like none you’ve ever seen before save looking in the mirror. You are so empty. There is something you both lack and the absence of it has left you starving. Something not quite right with you. Born without it maybe, or maybe it was taken by force. 

You’re both so empty that when you’re together it’s like you take turns trying to fill yourselves up with each other, but you’re only ever left hungrier than you were before. Desperate for the taste of each other. You bleed when he touches you, pour it into his mouth and down his throat, but it never makes him less ravenous. 

You let him dig teeth and claws into your chest, tear into the cavern where your heart should be. Someone said if you get hungry enough you’ll eat your own heart, and maybe that’s why there’s not enough of you for him to get his fill. 

He says you belong here, never with him, but here, in the wasteland of his arms. He says you tear the flesh from his bones. He asks how he could love you when he has no love to give even as he buries himself inside you, settles under your skin. 

You’re both too afraid to hang on to each other, though you leave claw marks in the letting go. Part of you wants to love him, but in loving him you would undoubtedly lose yourself. 

You yearn for a love that doesn’t exist. Where claws sinking into flesh, sharp and scathing, ripping organs from your body, tearing you apart at the seams so you can be remade into something new doesn’t result in the utter destruction of self. A love that’s all consuming and desperate and violent but that still feels like a home you can settle into. 

And the yearning is another type of hunger. Just another thing you lack. All the things you lack enough to form a hill you will probably die on someday. How can the absence of something be such a heavy weight to carry? You want to settle some of it on his broad shoulders, but you don’t know how to give away what you don’t have. You give him yourself instead. 

He wraps your thighs around his head and settles in to feast on you, tongue delving deep inside and curved nose grinding into your clit. He eats you as if he’s trying to find a way in. You gouge his shoulders, raking up his neck and into his hair. You revel in his flesh caught under your nails, something of him you can take with you. He groans and it vibrates your bones. 

You pull him closer, something like pleasure coursing through your veins, you think. It’s been so long since something felt good you aren’t sure this is what it feels like. But it feels like something and you crave something. The something settles low in your belly, coils like a snake, and strikes. Dave drinks you down, consuming everything you give him, and when he peers up at you from between your legs his eyes are still full of a dark hunger. 

He drags his mouth up your body as though he can’t bear the thought of your taste leaving his mouth. Sinks teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and you swear you hear them clack through your skin. You yank his head away from you by the hair he has let curl at the nape of his neck, and he snarls, his mouth tinged red with you. 

You surge up into him, crash your mouths together hard enough to split lips and you swallow, taking blood and spit and slick on your tongue and he sucks it back onto his. He settles fully between your legs, not breaking his mouth away from yours as he pushes your thighs into your chest. You let him fold you in half, his hands settling into the mattress and keeping you spread wide for him.

He buries his face in your neck, bites down, and snaps his hips into you, both of you grunting at the force. He splits you open at your core, soothes that hollow ache of emptiness, filling you to the brim. All you think or feel or see is Dave. The planes of his back shifting and sheened with sweat as he ruts into you, the shining red streaks on his shoulders a beautiful contrast to golden skin. You dig the nails of your left hand into his asscheek, pulling him into you even harder. Settle your right hand in a fist in his hair and twist and he growls in your ear. 

He sits back on his heels, grabs your hands and pins them to the bed. The bones in your wrists shift pleasantly painfully (what’s the difference?) as he settles his weight forward. You wrap your legs around his torso and pull him back to you, emptiness for even a moment too much to bear. You latch your teeth into the muscle of Dave’s forearm and he lets go of your wrist only to wrap your throat in his long fingers and squeeze. 

There’s something so intimate about your life being held in the palm of someone’s hand. There’s something so violent about him, burrowed deep, always lingering beneath the surface. There’s something so reassuring knowing he is entirely capable of snuffing your life out right here, but he won’t. Not because you are some precious thing, but because he needs you as badly as you need him. 

You are near silent, coming with a desperate gasp for air you aren’t able to pull in and he follows you. He too is a vessel with a crack somewhere near the middle, unable to hold anything inside for long, and he is pouring himself into you, hoping you will hold what he gives you. You shudder around him, grasping at his fingers around your throat not to pull him away, but to push him in harder. 

He tears his hand away first, then the rest of himself, landing on the mattress next to you and no longer touching you. The after always sending him reeling from you as though your skin burns him. Maybe it does. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up while he berates himself for coming back here. 

In the mirror you’re a vision of blooming purple and searing red. Throat, shoulder, wrists, thighs, cunt, all marked and aching. You’ll feel him for the days it will take him to fall back into your bed and just as he fades from your skin he will knock on your door. 

When you return to the bed, Dave is on his back, hands folded on his chest like a corpse at his visitation service. You lie beside him, upper arms pressed together as you mirror his pose. 

“Are you staying?”

He makes a noncommittal noise, a yes and a no, but grabs your arm and pulls you into him anyway. You wrap around him, an arm and a leg thrown across his body. You press your lips to a mark on his chest you don’t remember making. He traces patterns on your naked back and sighs. 

“I want to, I think.”

---------

Thanks for reading!! I have a general idea for a part two if it would interest anyone :) And sorry to the people I was supposed to write requests for... this wouldn't get out of my head.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Matt x Fem!Reader she’s an ex-black widow, they’re on their first date after admitting they have feelings for each other and she’s freaking out because she’s never been on a date or in a relationship and has never been in love until she met Matt. He can tell she’s nervous and scared so he keeps reassuring her and they have their first kiss at end.🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻

hii!! I love this sm omg, so cute ugh! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

worth the wait

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 897

kinda imagined the location for matt and karens date, now just realised after writing that ^^ i unintentionally kinda copied a bit of the storyline (fuck?!😀)

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

As an ex-black widow, you've never had many opportunities to be human. Since the destruction of the Red Room all those years ago, you've been on a personal quest for happiness. And happiness's name just so happened to be called Matthew Murdock.

You haven't long professed your shared feelings, so things were still very new and terrifying. 

Matt's a great guy; that's not the issue. It was you. 

Since you've been a widow your whole life, you never got to experience things you should have. You've never been on an actual date or even dated someone, for that matter. 

You've never received spontaneous flowers or an 'I miss you' text that wakes you in the middle of the night. You've never had one of those cutesy dates you've always dreamed of- the kind you see in the movies, where you walk hand in hand down the beach at night. You've had no more than a few unrequited encounters, so things with Matt were a big deal to you. 

It was daunting to date someone as special as him, and you were scared of blowing it.

"Where'd you go?" Matt asks from opposite you, slipping his hand into yours above the table.

"Nowhere," you smile, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.

"Mhm, okay," he grins, his eyes playfully squinting. He could tell something was bothering you and playing on your mind, but he didn't want to press the matter- not yet, anyway. "You're doing great," Matt reassures, squeezing your hand as if to comfort you.

He knew you were new to the dating game, so he didn't want to rush or overwhelm you. He wanted to take his time with you. To allow time for you to adjust, to get used to it. He wanted to show you your worth and how you're supposed to be treated by someone, despite your troubled past. 

You knew all about Matt's upbringing, as he did yours. You knew these somewhat violent and graphic details about each other, and in some weird miracle, it didn't make the other want to run for hills. 

"I feel like I'm messing this up," you chuckle, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"No," he shakes his head. "Absolutely not. You're doing great."

"I dunno,"

"You are sweetheart, trust me," he nods assuringly, playing with your fingers clasped around his.

As this was your first date with Matt, you were a big bundle of nerves and butterflies. It wasn't the company that scared you. It was because you were in such a fancy restaurant and constantly worried about saying the wrong thing.

"Hey, here's an idea," he starts, a soft smile lining his lips. "Let's go somewhere else."

"Why? What do you mean?" you ask, head cocking to the side.

He picks up your hand and brings it to his lips, pecking a kiss on the back of it. "I can tell this place is making you uneasy— and I don't want that," Matt shakes his head as if he's emphasising his point. "We can go someplace else, anywhere else."

"But we just got here— and you got the reservation and everything. I don't wanna be—"

"Not at all," he interrupts, smiling sweetly. "I think I'd prefer Thai food anyway."

You knew he only said that to avoid hurting your feelings, but it's a special gesture and one that didn't go unnoticed.

On the way back, you and Matt stopped by his favourite local Thai restaurant. As it was a much more casual setting, you felt like you could finally relax and enjoy your date with him. And you did.

...

After an hour or two of chatting and sharing dishes, Matt walked you back to yours. Your arm wrapped around his as you continue your juvenile conversation from earlier, heartily laughing as you make your way down the late-night street.

"This is me— that was stupid," you chuckle, shaking your head. "That's what they say in movies— it's— it's dumb."

"No, I thought it was cute," he smiles, slowly spinning you around to face him. "It was cute," he says again, reassuring you of self-deprecation.

Matt takes a small step towards you, slipping one hand to cup your cheek. "I had a good night," he grins, speaking inches away from you.

"I did, too," you smile, placing your hand over his, holding him to your face.

"I want to take you out again sometime, maybe friday?"

"I'd like that," you murmur, your eyes darting down at his lips. 

He says something incoherent before guiding your face to his, brushing over your lips. He kisses you soft and tender, sweet and loving. A grace of compassion you've never had before. He snakes his spare hand to your waist, holding you to him as he lightly works over your lips. 

He breaks the kiss first and rests his forehead against yours, soaking in the memory as he embraces your comforting aura. He kisses your cheek one last time before stepping back, opening your front door. 

"I'll stop by tomorrow during my lunch break," he grins, taking your hand and guiding you into your house. 

"I'll make us sandwiches," you smile back.

He slips his hand from yours, kissing it one last time. 

"Text me when you get home?" 

"I will, sweetheart. Goodnight,"

"Goodnight." You beam, locking the door with an excited squeal.

Maybe Matt was worth the wait. 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

matt taglist: @hailey-murdock @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @redecoratestan @kpopgirlbtssvt @scarletsloveletter @princess-pebbles-things @messymissy @schneeflocky @readerhead @thegreengoop @charmedkim @queerponcho @selfryed