#Let’s Panic Magazine

[edithshead]

Malgosia Bela by Greg Kadel styled by Paul Cavaco for Let’s Panic Magazine, 2018

[karmiculture]

chloe & sean in let's panic no.3 magazine photographed by william strobeck 

[theinfinitedivides]

DAZED Korea dropped the reel for the BTS preview of Namgoong and Eun Jin's photoshoot. my day just keeps getting better

[zephyrchama]

Do you think demons crack their joints?

It was a lazy, rainy evening in the Devildom. An oddly calm one. The residents of the House of Lamentation were gathered in the living room, mainly because that's where you were.

Beelzebub and Mammon were snacking and watching Leviathan play his handheld game. Asmodeus was browsing a magazine, Satan was browsing a book, and Lucifer was texting with Barbatos.

Belphegor had been dozing off on your shoulder for a while. It was hard to move under the demon's weight. You had been stuck in the same pose browsing your D.D.D. until he finally shifted, leaning back into the couch. You seized the opportunity to roll your shoulders and take a much needed stretch.

You lifted your arms. It felt great. Crack.

"What was that?" Satan asked, glancing up from his book.

"Beel probably sat on a chip," Mammon said. Levi snorted, too busy to take his eyes off the game but in agreement with Mammon for once.

"It wasn't me." Beelzebub stood up to prove his innocence, revealing no food under him.

"It was me," you said. "Just my back."

"Hon, what?" "Your what?" Asmodeus and Lucifer spoke at the same time, and both gave you a concerned look.

"My back? I just cracked it."

The demons sprung out of their seats like you had just cursed them. Levi's game system fell to the carpet. Since he was already standing, Beelzebub strode over and pulled the back of your shirt up, asking "does it hurt?"

Startled, you pulled the front of your shirt down for modesty. "Woah, hello? Excuse me? Uh, what?"

While everyone gathered to stare at your back, Belphegor was stirred awake. "What's going on?"

He went to lean on your shoulder again, but Mammon swatted him away. "Hey! Can't ya see they're injured?" he growled. Belphegor huffed at him, deciding instead to help hold your shirt up.

"Poor thing!" Asmo cooed. With one hand he grabbed your wrist, and with the other he made a peace sign. "Look at me, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"I'm fine. Everybody just chill." Despite your insistence, the panic had already set in and nobody was listening to you.

Leviathan was shaking. "T-that's not good, right? Humans aren't supposed to make those kind of sounds." He was covering his eyes with his hands squeamishly but peeking through his fingers to stare anyway. "A doctor! Are there any human doctors? Should we call Solomon?"

"Yes, somebody call Solomon," Lucifer commanded. "Where did the crack occur?" He started gently prodding around your spine, making you squirm.

Satan tried to bump Lucifer's hand away from you while placing himself in Lucifer's spot. "Can't you see they don't like that? You're making it worse."

"Deep breaths," Mammon instructed you, breathing deeply in and out. He seemed on the brink of hyperventilation himself.

Lucifer refused to budge, but Satan persisted. He was now also poking you. "The damage isn't visible yet, but there could be internal bleeding. You have to lay down."

Belphegor scooted over to make more room, despite your protest of "I'm not going to move, nothing is wrong."

Asmodeus managed to already get Solomon on the phone. You couldn't hear him over Asmo's worried shrieks but knew he had to be laughing. Solomon was not going to let you forget this incident.

Beel, Lucifer, and Satan moved to try and pick you up but enough was enough. "I said I'm fine!! Everybody stay!"

The seven went crashing to the floor, finally allowing you to cover up. "I am fine! I'm fine! See!" You stood up dramatically and grabbed Asmo's D.D.D. to apologize to a snickering Solomon.

The demons were annoyed and concerned as they tried to pick themselves up. "If you're so fine, then explain that noise," Satan said.

"Humans just do that from time to time."

[cal-flakes]

You should do one where rafe is trying out different pet names on reader and reader is confused on who he’s talking to

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— humming along to the earworm that’s plagued your mind all day, you lay flat on the fluffy rug of your shared bedroom, skimming through jewellery magazines, mindlessly making notes of what you’d consider asking rafe for later— tannyhill was fairly quiet for a rainy day, with rafe in the other room taking phone call after phone call from investors.

“sweetheart” you’d thought you’d heard him call, yet carried on with your mental shopping, thinking nothing of it— much too focused on the beautiful silver bracelet under your eyes.

soon enough you could hear heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom, followed by a booming voice, laced with frustration. “y/n!” he’d yelled, causing you to jump in fright as he swung the door open.

the irritation washed away the second he met your now tearful eyes, regretting his impulsive reaction. “shit— baby, i’m sorry i didn’t mean to scare you” rafe cooed, rushing forwards to crouch down beside you. “why did you shout?” you whispered, bewildered by his shout— something particularly you, were not used to at all.

“i’m sorry doll, i called for you— and you didn’t answer, and works been hell today, and i just— i shouldn’t have shouted at you kid, im sorry, alright?” he sighed, carefully reaching out a gentle hand as though you would a hostile cat. instead, you rested your head in his open hand, allowing him to caress your cheek as the panic dissipated.

“you never call me sweetheart, i didn’t think you were talking to me— m’sorry rafe” you smiled sheepishly, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his palm.

“s’not your fault doll, i shouldn’t have shouted— let me make it up to you?”

[anterebic]

been sitting in front of my computer for 8 hours without doing anything bc the only thought in my head is "need to get floor tickets for the 127 concert"

[ddejavvu]

i imagine eddie working out in his room like doing push-ups, pulls ups, AND he’s shirtless😭😭but he’s doing it secretly and reader walk into his room and he gets all flustered and embarrassed but reader thinks it’s the hottest things she’s ever seen GOD

this post is 18+, minors dni.

If you had to guess, you'd say that Eddie is a little bit insecure. Not that he should be, you like him just the way he is, but you're friends with some of Hawkins' athletes, and at times Lucas seems to have bigger arms than your boyfriend does.

It doesn't bother you, but you think it might bother him a little. He starts wearing longer sleeves instead of his worn out muscle tanks, and you miss being able to stick your greedy fingers through the gaped sleeves to grab at his stomach. He's also started dissuading you from looking under his bed, which you think is suspicious because you already know about the porn magazines under there. Whatever he's hiding must be worse, and you're a little nervous to tell the truth. You have half a mind to ask Wayne if he's noticed anything odd lately, but you don't get the chance to because he's already gone for work by the time you get to Eddie's trailer for the day.

Eddie had said he was busy with work, so you assume he's halfway across town with sixteen pizzas in the back of his van to deliver. You decide to check beneath his bed, at the risk of ruining a possible birthday surprise, and you trek towards his bedroom with worry set low in your stomach.

His door is closed; that's an even worse sign. He doesn't have anything to hide from you or Wayne, you both know about his less-than-conventional 'side job'. When you twist the knob it opens, but slams into something hard, and you hear a familiar voice hiss 'ouch!'.

You rush into the small gap that you'd made with the door, finding Eddie on his hands and knees on the carpet. He's wearing a tank and his gym shorts, showing off his slightly trembling arms as he stumbles to his feet.

"What-" He grunts, eyes blown wide in panic, cheeks colored from exhaustion, "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" You counter, eyeing him up and piecing clues together, "Were you working out?"

"No!" He snaps, chest heaving with both adrenaline from being caught, and fatigue from his exercise, "I'm- I was just cleaning my room."

There's something undeniably attractive about his look right now. Frizzy hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, red cheeks, shaky limbs, and chest heaving.

"On the floor," You narrow your eyes, "Sweaty and shaking?"

"I- That's not... yes." He doubles down with a huff, "I'm trying to get gum off of my carpet. It's hard work."

"Gum," You repeat, and he nods stiffly, "Oh, shut up."

He rears his head backwards in slight shock at your tone, but you don't give him the chance to process it before you're lunging for him. You feel like jumping him, and maybe that's what you're doing as you push him back towards his bed, your mouth firmly over his own. He lets out a muffled cry into the kiss as he falls backwards, bouncing on the mattress while you kick a foot beneath the bed.

The arch of your foot hits weights, and everything makes sense.

"Fuck," You hiss, crawling over top of him on the bed. He's looking half bewildered and half aroused, already chubbing up in his workout gear, "You've been working out?"

"Yeah," He finally admits, voice and breath shaky together, "I- I just thought that it might be nice to get a little bigger. Like- my arms, my- my muscles."

He seems mortified admitting it, but your thumb is already slipping beneath the hem of his tank top, brushing along his bare stomach. He shivers at the contact, and you dip down to kiss him again.

"That's hot," You decide, both thumbs now stroking at his waistline. His hips stutter, jerking up into your grip when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, and his breath hitches into the kiss that you press to his lips.

"Really?" He asks, lips already spit-slicked.

You nod, kissing his jaw, "Totally. Can I watch?"

He laughs, a sharp, breathy sound, "Babe- mm, fuck," You nip lightly at his neck, kissing the mark after, "You can watch me work out every day if you're gonna maul me like this."

[steddiealltheway]

It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

[nomnomnoona]

ATEEZ: The Morning After (aka Round 2 from the night before) HYUNG LINE

Adult OT8 imagine drabbles. Minors, please do not interact. You can read the maknae line of this theme here.

.

The warmth of the daylight slipping between the split of the curtains hits your cheek as you lay beneath the softest duvet. You toss, attempting to dodge the daylight, but instead the movement wakes you. You stretch, allowing your eyes to gently flutter open when you kick off the covers. The cool breeze kisses your skin and you lightly shiver, not yet fully aware.

As your eyes open, you notice a silhouette sitting against the light of the sheer layer of the curtain. The silhouette was seated quite close to the bed, the duvet spilling out to their feet.

Then the smell of coffee steals away that last moment of slumber as you are jolted by the realization that the relaxed, seated silhouette had chuckled. You remembered who he was.

You look down with a hyper awareness that you're fully nude. In a panic, you reach for the duvet with your legs, but he kicks it aside.

"Hongjoong," you scolded, grabbing the pillow beneath your head to cover yourself up. The bed was now bare. He had completely kicked off the duvet while you sat up, hugging the pillow with your arms and legs.

"Good morning to you too," he chuckled. As your eyes adjusted, you noticed more details. He was in the bath robe of the hotel, one leg crossed over the other, his cup of coffee in one hand, while he held open a magazine in the other.

"Don't you have work?" you asked, trying to scoot to the edge of the bed with the pillow in place.

He wasn't paying attention to the conversation, "Where's the modesty coming from? You had no problem letting me watch you squirm while you were sprawled out beneath me last night."

"I'm sober now," you tried to defend yourself, hoping he didn't notice you blush.

He smirked, "Silly," a scoff followed, "You didn't touch any of the alcohol I ordered."

Hongjoong put the coffee down and stood to walk passed you to the bathroom. He entered and you heard the shower running.

"Can I go first?" you called.

Hongjoong didn't respond.

You walked up to the bathroom, but before you could even reach for the door, Hongjoong opened it and stood in the doorway. His eyes travelled to the pillow you were hugging for dear life.

He reached over to you and your knee-jerk reaction was to flinch, thinking he was going to yank the pillow from you. Instead, he gently placed the end of his bathrobe's tie into your palm, closing your fingers in to hold onto it.

"Get in," he gestured to the bathtub, "Since you can't remember last night, I'll remind you."

Hongjoong turned around and walked towards the tub while you held onto the tie, his robe unraveling in his wake.

.

It came as a complete surprise to you that someone as obsessively clean as Seonghwa made you feel so dirty--but not in the filthy way.

"Come here," Seonghwa had snaked his arms around your waste to pull your body against his. You didn't flinch. You liked it--heck--you loved it. Seonghwa was slender but strong, gentle yet firm. He was the type who made every effort to be in the same rhythm and heartbeat as you were.

If you weren't done, he wouldn't be. If you were at your climax, he would be right there with you. The man's seduction technique was pure synchronicity. He never left you alone. He was always right there with you.

So even if it took him a long time to wake up, you waited for him and stayed by his side to let him know you'd be right there with him too.

"I'm glad you waited for me," he said, his voice now muffled because he had buried his nose in your hair. "I love your smell. This is how I want to wake up."

"What do I smell like?" you asked.

"Sex," he drawled. But before you could reply, his hand was between your legs, "Breakfast?"

"Do we order in or--" never mind. He didn't mean coffee.

.

You stretched and then woke when Yunho's side of the bed was empty. Feeling a bit lonely, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, trying to gain a little more awareness so you could figure out where he was.

You stood up, not bothering to cover up, following the sound of the faucet in the bathroom. It was your first time sleeping over at Yunho's and he had been a bit nervous about you staying over. He had been going above and beyond recently to be hospitable, so you weren't surprised when you found him drawing you a bath.

"You're up," he jumped up, putting the bath bomb on the counter as he all but rushed over and let you sit on the edge of the tub. Before you could even speak, he pulled up a small basin with warm water and a towel, dipping in the towel and wringing it before he reached over between your legs.

"What are you doing?" you said with a laugh, tickled by the way he cleaned your thighs.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep right away," okay. Yunho must have looked up after care. This guy was really going the extra mile. You placed your hand on his.

"I feel comfortable," you assured him. "Come on," you stood, he looked confused as you guided him to stand. He towered over you.

"Take it off," you said with a smile as you tugged the hem of his shirt. "That's an expensive bath bomb," you laughed a little, "We should make the most of it."

With no less than stars in his eyes, he hurried to yank his shirt over his head, toss the bath bomb in, and pull you into an eager, delicious kiss, guiding you into the tub with him.

.

Yeosang was probably the most confusing person you have ever slept with. It was a good kind of confusion, because you were nothing short of satisfied, but confusing nonetheless.

When you had met Yeosang, he was almost the textbook definition of "baby girl". He was sweet, gentle, and he even had a delicate laugh.

A few drinks down the line, he was beginning to flop onto your couch like a stuffed animal. You had offered him your couch for the night because he was much too drunk to drive. On top of that, you were also absolutely enamored with him. He was so beautiful, so fascinating to watch. You could have watched him sleep.

And then he pulled off his long-sleeved sweater.

His forearms were practically carved as his veins moved with every motion of his fingers. His arms were solid as rocks and your inebriated memory reminded you that your eyes tried to follow his veins from his forearm to his bicep to his neck.

You were seated next to him on the couch, stunned silent as he threw his head back, irritated that he chose to wear such fitted jeans tonight. Yeosang began to roughly yank his belt off, but failed.

Your last memory was the moment he grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on his buckle, his almost baritone voice demanding, "Take it off."

"What happened?" was his next question, 11:00 in the morning, clutching his temple as he sat across you at your dining table.

You poured him a tall glass of water and shrugged. You were intoxicated, sure, but not so much that you would forget the way he flat out fucked you senseless. You could still feel his iron grip on your hips. It was as though they were about to bruise.

Of course, it was wonderful. You would do it again in a heartbeat. You knew that he was someone who could get it from you anytime he asked.

You turned around and brought over toast, eggs, and a few sausages when your eyes locked with his. Your heart skipped a beat because he just had the most knowing smirk on his face.

He remembered.

"I'll have one egg," he said. "But if you're not yet sore," he pushed his empty plate forward, "I'll have two so I have enough energy to make sure you bruise this time."

Without a second thought, you straight up poured all four eggs you made onto his plate.

.

Maknae line here

[joonipertree]

Pro-racer Mikey that needs to do photoshoots and commercials every once in a while because he's famous and has a pretty face

He's put into his tracksuit or into lavish clothes to pose for the masses and a lot of people realise that Mikey has a presence on the camera that's unshakeable

And so....they decide to have him model for a photoshoot with one of the biggest models of the industry. Which works!! It's fine

They're just pictures.

But then the model posts a selfie of Mikey and her. and she says nothing but puts a heart in the caption.

And the speculations run WILD

Comments upon comments of shipping them together, calling them a power couple.

And you sit there, stuck in a doom scroll as you see one tweet after the other. You stare at your boyfriend, black hair neatly kept and smile wide like it always was, and you see the pretty girl.

And within seconds, you feel stupid for feeling insecure because Mikey had literally spent all morning peppering you in kisses, it was IMPOSSIBLE to pry him off even though he had a shoot and Draken had to come haul his ass up and out the door.

The man had texted you complaining how the food was blegh and how he missed your face.

There's no reason to be jealous.

So you turned off your phone and when Mikey came home, exhausted but very happy to see you....you let him smother you in kisses.

And it's forgotten

Until an unofficial bonus picture was released, on the magazine's Instagram page.

Him and the model, her leaning down as he sits on a chair...his hand wrapped around her wrist while their faces are inches close to each other.

It took three seconds to switch your phone off, throw it away and break down sobbing with whatever rational thought you had leaving your head.

You didn't need to read the comments to know what they were saying. You didn't need to wait until your friend's message you to ask if you're okay, out of pity. You didn't need his friends to call you in defense of him. You didn't need him to realise what had happened.

It was all a PR stunt so why would he even need to apologize. It was just a picture. Two people who were attractive being in close proximity to each other, being ogled by millions...being perceived as perfect for each other. As 'pleasing to the eye'

Now, Mikey was filming a commercial when this happened. He'd been chatting with the co-star while the cameras rolled when he noticed Ken-chin whisper into his phone.

The man looked annoyed, ready to argue but going rigid before sighing.

With a whisper to the director, everything paused as Ken waved his phone and said it was for Mikey. That it was Emma.

There was immediate panic because there's no way it wouldn't be an emergency. And he was right, his eyes widened and body grew stiff in seconds hearing his sister berate him.

For being a bastard, for breaking your heart like that.

She demanded he fixed it and when he was about to ask what was going on.....Draken shoved another phone into Mikeys hand...the instagram page of the magazine opened.

Oh. Fuck no

"I'm leaving." Mikey yelled out, startling everyone in the room, his years of being a gang leader coming out.

"What do you mean---"

Draken blocked the director's view, hands behind his back as he went back into the position of the second in command.

"You heard him."

"He has a contract--"

"He doesn't give a fuck."

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 6

summary ;; This is the reality of Jake Sully: the father and Olo'eyktan of the People cannot coexist, Eywa teaches her lessons in the toughest ways. PART 5 | NEXT (wip) pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; well this took a hot minute. am back on my bs WARNING for violence and t0rture, reader discretion is advised. Please excuse my mistakes if you see any!

Jake moved on pure primitive instinct, unbridled arctic rage honing all his senses into one laser point of focus. It wasn’t survival, and it surely wasn’t prey running from predator, there was nothing noble about what he was trying to achieve. 

That avatar was going to die today, and Jake was going to make it hurt. No fair game. No warrior’s death. No respect. 

Devoid of the shape of humanity or the ties that bound him to it, he was the embodiment of a creature’s killer intent, body taking over and consciousness disappearing to the backseat as he catapulted his tomahawk at the avatar, taking advantage of the miniscule opening provided by a magazine change needed after emptying all of his bullets to a Jake luring him into wasting his resources away. 

The dull squelch of the hand-carved ax’s head plunging into flesh couldn’t be dampened by the avatar’s choked and short shout, and Jake was jumping out of cover in no time, a bull to red, advancing towards the man, footsteps not hidden out of having no concern for it at all, let him panic or try to struggle for all Jake cared. 

Opposite of what he expected, the rifle wasn’t picked up or fumbled to aim at him. The avatar, pale in the face and pupils having devoured the yellow, fear trumping the pain of his arm almost sliced off from shoulder, crawled away on his back from Jake in full speed, getting up before Jake could reach him, and started staggering into the forest, dropping the tomahawk in the process. 

Jake stopped in his tracks for a moment and picked his weapon up, the dark liquid glistening purple in the light of the Tree of Souls, droplets of blood making the moss light up as they hit the ground. His chest heaved in controlled, loud breaths, mouth pulled back in a snarl, watching the pathetic son of a bitch trying to get away. 

He was one of the lot who’d shot you, hurt you, tortured you — simply to get a reaction out of Jake. 

He was the one who pulled Jake away before he could fix his mistakes, undo the damage they had done, and get you back. 

Jake was so close. So close. 

You were there. You were right there. He could still feel you in his arms, his shoulder imprinted with your tears, shiest of smiles at a better future he could build with you from the burnt soil of your relationship. 

If it hadn’t been for him… 

That man was your murderer. 

He deserved the hell of a father’s making.

This avatar was a marine — and the fucking idiot was running into the oblivion blind worse than a normal civilian would in this situation, had all those years of training evaporated in one second? Jake’s steps were determined, yet lax following after the guy, nose picking up the trail of blood left behind, eyes watching the red splatters. This was all Hansel and Gretel for him, playing follow the breadcrumbs.

The sound of thumping, frantic running, bumping into obstacles, crashing into flora, all was distinguishable from the natural song of the forest Jake had gotten so familiar with in these fifteen years. No response came from the avatar, but Jake wasn’t hurrying. He would have him. Let the bastard tire himself out first — but he wouldn’t let him die. No. He could smell the fear, the blood, anger at bay, all ice, knowing the trees would carry all the sounds he needed to Jake. He could hear exactly where the avatar was. and If he was hoping he’d bleed himself out faster than Jake could reach him to save himself from what was going to happen, well… 

He’d better start praying for mercy to whatever deity held his worthless faith, because Jake had none of it. They had no mercy for you, his sinless, innocent child, all but wails and yelps and blood, and apologies for it. 

Every time Jake thought of you in that tremendous pain to the brink of delirium, he burned in his heart’s ice until he was black and purple all over. Your smile was so real, your embrace was tiny and warm in his arms and he had a chance, the only chance no parent could ever get in this life. Jake had dissolved together with that mirage.   

The part of him engulfed in flames wanted to end this quickly and painfully—to burn it all, break that man in, scream his lungs out, the other part of him, frozen fury that scalded over in the loss of you, wanted to draw it out, wanted to inflict never-ending pain, to bring the avatar back from the brink of death over and over again just to repeat it in a cycle. 

His child. His baby. 

The ties that held Jake together were getting pulled tight, the pressure building like deep water currents, thinner threads snapping and crackling, body being pulled to all five directions from all five limbs. Awareness went out and barged its way back in hot flashes, he couldn’t comprehend the passing of time and how long he let your murderer catch the delusion of shaking Jake off his tail — but, his instincts knew to reveal himself before the avatar could be claimed by blood loss. 

Dangling hope right in front of his face just to snatch it away wasn’t enough. It could never be enough compared to you who had dragged your own corpse back home, muted to your own pain cocooned between those who should have meant nothing but home and safety to you. Torture. You had lived torture in your last hours with help just one step, one word away. 

Nothing would ever be enough.  

Jake emerged from the thick flora like the grim reaper himself who would always be waiting right at the spot of the reaping wherever the soul ran away to, detached and unimpressed, blank face not reflecting the scorched soul inside. The almost passed out avatar jolted awake when he smelled the smoke from Jake’s shadow falling on him, and could only press his back further to the body of the cluster of big rocks he had taken shelter against as if somehow becoming one with it could shield him away from Jake’s wrath.  

The man’s breathing was getting louder and shakier the more Jake stood there motionless. “C’mon then,” he said between clenched teeth, spasming hand dropping from his mutilated shoulder, squaring up the last drops of his courage. “Get on with it.”

Jake’s whitened fingers were making noise against the handle of his tomahawk, but his voice was hauntingly hollow, unfeeling now that he had the man right in his palm. “Thought I should let you live what you did to my daughter first.”

The avatar began to scream. “Fuck you, man, we didn’t do none of this shit to that kid—”

Jake’s tone didn’t change, but it cut worse than a knife. “You killed my kid.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching, the reality of what was coming to him finally sinking in and Jake witnessed every panicked second of it. “Fuck…” His gaze wildly alternated between Jake and the tomahawk, raising his better, trembling hand up for feeble defense. “Look, look, listen, we didn’t kill her, alright? We patched her up, okay, she was going to be a prisoner, what happened happened because you engaged in battle, we wouldn’t do that to a—AGH!”

He was interrupted by Jake sharply shoving the head of the tomahawk into his injury, just putting it in there, not moving it further down. “Do you have children, marine?”

The man palmed at the weapon, fingernails digging into the wood, but no matter how much he pushed, it didn’t budge one bit. “Stop, stop! Fuck—”

Jake repeated again, firmer. “I asked you a question, do you have children?”

“No!— No, god, argh!” 

He spaced out for a while, watching him squirm and trash to get away with defeated, half-assed attempts, also unable to because of how much of an immovable object Jake was making the weapon buried in the open wound be. It would hit the bone if he used more strength. 

With a fixed, stony stare, Jake removed the tomahawk, waiting for the man’s deplorable whimpers to recede before breaking him the news like reading it off a doctor’s report. “You won’t get to have any.”

He didn’t look like he cared about something like that, but the man knew his fate insinuated by the words. Nevertheless,it didn’t mean he could be free from the survivor’s instinct’s mood swings his body was putting him through. Denial to bargaining within minutes. “Just kill me already, you deserter piece of—”

“Oh, no, no no,” Jake reassured, the only flicker of emotion he had shown since he’d cornered the avatar. “You won’t get to die for a long time, either.” 

The avatar grunted, head falling down before he started to shake it. “Please just let it end—man, just let it end, I’m sorry, okay, please!” A whole body-trembling begging shifted to anger the more Jake remained non-responsive. Watching. Just watching. The hole in his chest getting wider the more he fed this man’s suffering to it — it wasn’t enough. “Just fucking do it! Pussy ass bitch! Come on you blue motherfucker, kill me! Kill m—”

“Are you the one who shot my daughter?” 

“What?”

“Are you. The one. Who shot my daughter?”

The avatar’s face twisted. “It wasn’t me—it wasn’t—asshole, you already killed the guy, I didn’t fucking do anything!—”

“You... didn’t do anything?”

A beat. The forest fell silent in Jake’s ears. Just like how the noises you made had abruptly died down as he was putting pressure on your wound.

And like that, the thick haze that had Jake desensitized blew over, unadulterated anger rushed to his body, acidic and nauseating, soul stitching back to his limbs by a million needles and he began to shake, face contorting, teeth showing itself, the hiss that lacerated his throat was the most terrifying one of his life yet, it didn’t sound like it belonged to a sentient being, twisted by a grieving, demented animalistic horror. The avatar’s breath hitched, whatever protest and voice he had escaping deep inside his body, ears pinned back to his head. 

“Of course,” Jake glowered, swallowing the scorching stones blocking his throat. He closed his burning eyes, and was greeted by the image of you, opening them back again, and shaking the ax as if it was an accusing finger. 

And without a word of warning, his hand shot down and grabbed the avatar from the neck of his tactical vest, hurling him over the chest-level array of big rocks forming a pointy bed above, ignoring the cries of pain as the abused, torn open flesh of the wound dragged through the sharp teeth of the gravel, dousing them in blood. “Please, please, stop!—I’m sorry, I was wrong, that wasn’t right, shit, shit!”

Jake snatched the man’s dominant arm that was coincidentally the same one dangling by fractured bone and tendons from the shoulder. His soul had known what he wanted right from the start before his brain had processed it. “This hand,” he spat, holding it from the wrist, gnashing his teeth. “that pulled the trigger at me…” 

Murdered his daughter for a second time. 

All a soldier’s worth for. One hand to hold the stock tight against the body and one to fire. All that to take a single life.

Leaning the hand down against the rock in a sudden move, Jake slammed on the blunt, pointy end of the tomahawk on it like he was hammering a nail, the sickening crack of the bones breaking got followed by the avatar’s fractured scream. 

Jake saw you hunched, cheekily laughing in the blue and purple of the creek, freckles glowing because of the eclipse, silhouette illuminated by the floating bioluminescent bugs.  

Spinning the tomahawk in his clammy hand in a full 360 turn, he smashed it down once more, stronger. The metal broke skin and sank into spongy muscle. His ears were buzzing, ringing from how the shrill yells. 

Jake was hugging you after what seemed to be years, and your little arms were clinging to him for life — you were sand slipping from his fingers. 

Jake hammered again. 

You were telling him how mean he was to you, your voice suppressing the avatar’s. 

He brought it down one more time and felt the tomahawk recoil from hitting rock. 

You were bashful as you repeated how Jake would always love you. 

Guttural breaths getting louder with effort each hit, he kept slamming it down until everything was his beautiful little sweet girl. 

Again. 

Again. 

Again. 

Again and again and again and again and again until there was no resistance from the limb anymore and the man had gone silent and it was all mashed meat he was pounding— 

And then he almost plunged it to your bleeding, battered corpse, your stomach covered in reddish brown from the dried brown, body ashen blue, and Jake cried out in terror, jumping back and losing strength in his legs as the tomahawk flew from his hand and he fell over. 

His lungs constricted, refusing to take any breaths in and his heart ricocheted around in his ribcage, he was gaping at the wall of rock now washed red as if it was some white rose painted red in Alice in Wonderland. 

Jake sat there for the longest time, dissociated.

In those moments, he wasn’t Toruk Makto, he wasn’t Olo’eyktan, he wasn’t the pillar of a family of seven. He was simply Jake Sully. 

However, he wasn’t allowed to be stripped down to the bone until all that’s left was a mourning father. That was Jake’s reality. 

He had to cast the crippled man aside, the tragedy of his child away, and bring the leader of the People out right as your ghost rippled in his vision, watching spitefully within the forest — because all you wanted was for him to be your father, and he couldn’t even fucking do that after your death. 

This avatar was a valuable asset, a hostage to question. For the sake of his people. 

He wasn’t allowed revenge. 

A single drop of tear rolled down expressionless face. When he looked down, Jake’s hands were still stained with your blood. 

The only instance a child should be covered in blood is when they come out of their mother’s womb, little lungs being burned with existence for the first time, crying from the pain of being separated from Eywa’s arms, birth mother a complete stranger to them. 

The gore of you barely clinging to life, unmoving, drenched in your own blood, wiped and wiped to the point Neytiri had to change buckets of water until it turned light pink was overlapping with the joyful image of your newborn self she had lovingly and gently cleaned of the remains of labor with wetted mothsilk, skin too sensitive for water for the moment, the blue coming alive as the blood and other clotted bodily fluids were cleansed. 

It wasn’t the broken, ice-cold, lithe body of a young girl Neytiri had cleaned in the torment of her excoriated, unraveling mind, it was her baby’s. Her baby, her poor baby with a gaping hole in the middle of your body, memories marauding Neytiri’s lucidity. 

She lived the moment of your first cleansing over and over again. 

You were a particularly indomitable cryer, Neytiri had known you would be infamous for your battle cries right as she was brought back from the blackout of post-birth by your overly-healthy wailing — or perhaps you would best Ninat as a singer when you’d unapologetically blossom, but one thing was ascertained: her first daughter was a fierce, fiery blue ball of ardor compared to Neteyam, who was almost shy and reluctant in disturbing people around him in his weeping that a collective worry for his health had plagued the whole clan. 

As you squirmed, smeared in chunks of her flesh and blood, as if you wanted to jump off from her arms and start walking already, Neytiri had smiled up at her Jake, your father, unable to take his eyes off you, stuck between awe and laughs that came and went. “She has your heart,” she’d told him, spent and hurting, but wonderfully alive. “Strong.”

He’d traced his thumb through her drenched hairline. “Lungs, you mean?” His scent, wind and hearthfire, had enveloped Neytiri when Jake had leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I think they’re yours.” The teasing about how you had made Neytiri scream in labor wouldn’t have gone unpunished if she wasn’t on the edge of sleep held up only by your crying, so, he’d gotten a light hit on the side of his face instead. But Jake knew how to apologize, he’d always been spectacular at it. “I’d say she takes after me in appearance, look at her little ugly face.”

To Neytiri, you were beautiful, face dark purple from how strong you were screaming, and a mini-village elder with the wrinkles, swinging those little fists — things that made you lovely in her eyes. Her first daughter. 

She had learned motherhood from Neteyam, but she would learn to understand her mother and her choices through you, someone she thought couldn’t be more different from her — Neytiri, all Mo’at could have been, and Mo’at, all Neytiri might have become, once. She prayed you would love her as much as she’d begun to love you the second you were in her arms. 

To think the enormity of her love hadn’t reached you — it was one of the greatest failures of Neytiri’s life. If it had, you’d be wounded, but perfectly conscious and well in her mother’s tent. If it had, you would have been beyond comfortable telling those demons had hurt you. 

In that all-consuming devastation, the woven towel she was using to wipe the thin sheet of sweat that formed on your body slipped from her uncoordinated hands and fell on your chest, and Neytiri had to hold back the breath that spiked to become a hiccup by covering her mouth, and immediately, her curled hand was engulfed in a smaller, five-fingered one. She came eye-to-eye with Kiri after raising her head, putting her other hand on hers at the girl’s more disheveled and messy self, heart dropping to her stomach at the fatigue varnishing an extra layer of moisture in her daughter’s drooping eyes. 

“Oh Kiri,” Neytiri mumbled, caressing her cheek and brushing the tangled hair away from her face. 

“Why don’t you go get some rest, mom, hm?” 

“Even if I somehow agreed to that, I could never agree to leaving my daughter alone in this.”

“I’m fine.” Stopping to take a breath, she sighed, collecting the towel and starting to fold it. “Well, not really fine, but don't worry about me. We’re all miserable here. And that’s natural.” Fiddling with the corners of the cloth, she leaned in a bit and lowered her voice, light reflecting from the yellow of her irises making it look like they shone from within. “I… I know she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Eywa has bestowed us a gift she has never given to anyone before and it’s for a reason. I feel that everything will be set right.” She shook her head up and down, determined. “Dad will do it. I know he will.”

Neytiri trusted Kiri with her intuition and understanding when it came to the inscrutable intentions of Eywa, she was closer to the Great Mother than any Tsahik was — so close that she would drift away too much from her family. And deep down, Neytiri was heartsick by this invisible line that separated her from her daughter, any parent in her place would be unsettled like this.

She was also hog-tied to close the distance growing between them because of the human boy Spider and how she would find camaraderie in him in their ‘orphan’ status as she called it. Kiri was already faraway in her obscure existence and unwittingly separated herself as if she didn’t see herself as a real part of the family some days, and Neytiri hated that the ‘kinship’ she’d formed with Spider was planting these ideas into her head when she was her and Jake’s daughter, no more, no less. To overwrite those feelings, she tried so hard to reach Kiri, but was unsettled by the feeling of being hated sometimes, again, more or less for her stance in placing Spider at the outskirts of their family. 

But oftentimes Kiri would express her affection through small, otherwise unnoticeable actions, just like this one, a caring touch and reassurance that could melt an ice cube — and Neytiri basked in the babiest of steps between them. And maybe this was how Jake had it with you, too, she had never thought about it like this before. 

Taking in Neytiri’s solemn silence, Kiri grumbled, suddenly agitated about something. “I just… I just wish I had isirka resin and xhikul seeds for this paste and cover her wound with it. Grandmother’s extract isn’t enough to stimulate the bone marrow and ugh—” The girl groaned with the obvious guilt at groaning in the first place, as well. “I’m sorry, mom, I don’t know what—”

“It’s alright, Kiri,” Neytiri said, weariness blending with tenderness, knowing you’d agree too. You would have probably told her to not waste her energy and wait around when there wasn’t anything left to do anyway. “Maybe it’s you who needs some rest. You’ve worked hard. Harder than any of us. You do need rest, too.”

Kiri was quick to refuse. “I’m trying something new, I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sure one of your brothers—”

Her earpiece buzzed alive. “Neytiri, do you read me?”

The unexpected timing of it caught her off guard, her hand flying up to the device, drums of alarm going off in her head by the croaky, despondent note to his voice. The impact of their previous argument evaporated from existence just by hearing his distress. “Jake?” She focused on you, not observing any difference, and frowned in worry, her pulse picking up pace as Kiri also locked her attention to her the moment she heard her father was on the line. “What happened?”

“I have here one of Quaritch’s dreamwalkers—whatever they are.” Neytiri’s mouth opened and closed at the reveal, forehead creasing. “Alive. Somehow survived to get to the Tree of Souls.”

Her hand instinctively descended to touch your cool and clammy arm closest to her. “Tree of Souls…? But you were—”

“Yeah. Yeah, he… I couldn’t. I couldn’t…” 

She stared at your face, all thoughts draining from her mind. “What are you saying, Jake?”

Silence.

“Jake,” Neytiri implored, her voice snuffed out towards the end. She tried again. “Jake, I don’t understand. What does this mean..?”

“Son of a bitch pulled me out before I could… before I could finish talking to her.” Kiri reached for her when she let out an incoherent, disbelieving voice, getting more panicked as Neytiri clawed at her tightening chest with his next words. “I failed, Neytiri. I couldn’t… She…” 

Neytiri was physically helpless to respond, and Kiri couldn’t hold back from inquiring seeing the state she was in. “Mom? Mom! What’s wrong?”

“This man, if it wasn’t for this man, I had it.” Jake kept talking at an increasing speed the longer Neytiri didn’t say anything. “I had her right in my arms, making future plans, smiling, everything was perfect, and then he—” His breath quivered. “He fucking—” And he stopped the sentence abruptly to get some semblance of control back because Eywa knew Neytiri was losing it ever so slowly. “I need you here with me right now, please. Please, I…” 

Neytiri refused to acknowledge what Jake couldn’t say out loud. You were still breathing, she felt your chest rise and fall even if the pattern was weak. You had life left in you. Jake saying he failed made no sense to her, she didn’t believe it. 

“Neytiri, I need to question this… this filth, need to learn all I can about what’s going on, but I can’t do it on my own. I’ll kill him. In a heartbeat. I want to squeeze the life out of him with my hands right this moment and I— I can’t… We have to know how they could have gotten this far, what they’re planning—and now right to the Tree of Souls too, and…” The rambling that got chaotic and disconnected faded off eventually, as if he’d lost his voice. “Shit.”

And throughout all that, Neytiri had gone from confused, in denial, at the threshold of grief but not nearly in there anchored by your pulse, and lusting for blood within minutes. Kiri was taken aback by the anger radiating from her. “Bring him here!”

“I can’t. He could have a tracker on him—they could have put it in his body. I can’t risk that.”

Neytiri stood up with only one thing in her mind, and it didn’t match Jake’s. “Where are you?”

“You gotta let me pass, buddy, come on! You wanna take my head off or something? Why are you being like this!” 

Hands up and quick on his feet, Lo’ak was trying to negotiate. 

With an ikran of all things. Not even his.

Yours. 

Mom storming out like a wronged, vengeful spirit had been the perfect chance for him to do a quick supply run sneak off, but your overgrown big bird with the exact same attitude as you was getting in his way and blocking Lo’ak off by snapping its jaw at his head and opening its sunset fire tinged wings every time he attempted to cross over to his own ikran. They were basically at a standstill and he had no idea why. 

Lo’ak just wanted to help. Help you. 

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Shit. 

Neteyam. Making his way to him with such speed that got his braids swinging and of course he’d sniffed Lo’ak out like a nantang. Followed the odd silence, probably. Eywa, he should have thought this out better. 

“Skxawng, do you not remember what dad said?”

“I do,” Lo’ak hummed and hawed, and that was the problem. He’d never felt this guilty about disobeying dad’s orders before, it was making him squirm. “But look, Kiri said she needed isirka resin and xhikul seeds or whatever to treat her, I’m going—”

Neteyam’s jaw had flexed when he said whatever, but there was no visible agitation after he gave a sharp breath through his nose.  “So let’s call mother or—”

“They’re busy with some sky person dad caught—”

“I know. The same ones who did this to our sister. I know, Lo’ak.” Neteyam aggressively gestured to the exit of the cave system, shaking his arm while speaking. “What do you think will happen if you go off on your own and land yourself in bigger trouble than she did? Huh?”

Lo’ak threw resentful looks at your ikran. “I can’t stay put like this. I have to do something.”

“This again? There is nothing we can do.” He hadn’t said that in his normal drilling of dad’s orders — Neteyam had the same pain of acceptance that were Lo’ak’s bruises etched onto his face.

And that made Lo’ak want to throw up all over the place. He’d experienced countless sicknesses his siblings had fallen to over the years, none of those were as fatal as this and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. What was he supposed to do when his sister was dying? What did one do when a family member was in this situation anyway? Nothing seemed right to him. 

And something was finally, finally within his power — and Lo’ak would of course rise up to the challenge without hesitation. He wasn’t just going to sit down and let that possibility of your salvation slip by. “But there is. Kiri said—”

“Lo’ak if you leave right now and somehow get caught dad will never trust you again. He was the most open he’s ever been, don’t betray him like that.” 

He was getting annoyed that Neteyam was ignoring the whole point, though it wasn’t as if Lo’ak didn’t know. He was fully aware, and that’s why this was supposed to be a secret. Dad couldn’t be hurt by what he didn’t know now, could he? Not only were you getting Kiri’s remedy, which he was sure as his name was Lo’ak that would end up most effective, but he also wasn’t breaking his promise to dad when the tiniest thread of trust in his son was knotted by the man just recently.  

Neteyam grabbed him by the top of his head in a brotherly manner but his hold was of steel, the boy tried to grumpily push him off but he didn’t budge, staring right into his soul. “Use what’s in this for once and just tell dad or mother, they’re down in the forest already anyway.” When he let go, Lo’ak stumbled back, rubbing the sting off, and the semi-playful older brother was back. “And one of them will actually know what to look for.”

His immediate response was refusal. “I know what I’m looking for—”

“What does isirka look like?”

The sounds your ikran was making was eerily close to laughter and Lo’ak felt heat rush up to the tips of his ears. “It’s a tree.”

Neteyam didn’t have brow hair like Lo’ak did, but the way he raised the lines was always more expressive than how he did it. “Xhikul, then?”

“Flower, skxawng.”

“Wrong.” Lo’ak’s tail started beating the air at the condescending tone. “Kiri is talking about the fruit. Xhika is its flower.”

He rolled his eyes, turning away. “Whatever—”

“Is it whatever?” Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak by the shoulder and spun him around so rough that he got dizzy. “Are you calling my sister’s life whatever?”

Lo’ak was going to explode from how wrong this was going and how insistent Neteyam was to twist his words. “That’s not what I meant bro!” 

“You are so careless.” Neteyam’s tail had shot up ramrod straight, the little bush of hair at the end of it all puffed up, ears perking in all directions. He wasn’t necessarily yelling but was tense all over, something he did whenever they were playing back in the day and he was about to pounce after staying still enough to implant a false seed of safety. “You don’t even think about what can happen if you were to bring a completely different ingredient! You don’t think!”

“Sorry that I’m trying to help! What are you doing?”

“Keeping us safe. Keeping you safe.” He pressed his lips together on a thin line, but couldn’t hold back whatever was bubbling inside. “I’m not losing another sibling, Lo’ak!”

Only a small gasp escaped Lo’ak when he opened his mouth in retaliation. He couldn’t have found his voice even if he found something to say to that rawness in return, anyway. 

The gut-churning guilt doubled. 

“Hey… I—”

“Go,” Neteyam whispered, tilting his head together with the lone word. “Since you’re dying to help, help Kiri. She’s exhausted. I don’t think grandmother will refuse.”

“What about you?” And there he goes again. Wrong words. Neteyam was looking more closed-off than before. “I’m not accusing or anything—”

“I can’t go in there.”

“What?”

“I can’t,” Neteyam took a deep breath and loudly let it go, tail deflating, the arch of it depressing as hell for some reason. “I can’t look at her.”

Neteyam just gave a forlorn smile in return to Lo’ak’s heavily concerned looks demanding he continue but not knowing how to word it, his back looked weirdly lonely as he was tending to your significantly calmer ikran to join back the horde. 

Buried in negative thoughts all the way back and ignoring the pitiful looks from the rest of the clan, he met Kiri outside of the healing tent talking to Spider, and he could see Tuk’s back covering the view to you in his peripheral.

They were whispering about something and it was obvious even from a distance where they were nothing but stick figures. At least try to look less suspicious, Lo’ak thought. 

The only part he caught from the conversation was Spider saying, “Just describe them to me,” — Kiri was really leaning in towards him. 

“What’s going on?” 

The two looked like they were caught in the middle of scheming, and it clicked almost immediately. 

If Lo’ak had thought of going off on his own, so had they. 

“You aren’t going anywhere, bro,” he said, draping his arm across the human boy’s shoulders. “Neteyam’s literally patrolling.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Spider groaned, visibly disappointed. It warmed Lo’ak’s heart to see he was totally down for sneaking off the camp for you. “You said your dad told him to rest.”

“Yeah, he did. Except Neteyam never rests. He has a dancing glow worm up his ass.”

The conversation couldn’t continue because Kiri did a double take at something. 

“Tuk!” Kiri took a few steps aside, squinting as if she didn’t think she was seeing it right. Then her expression burst into panic, her hands flying forward as she ran to the tent, Spider and Lo’ak could only stare, baffled. “Tuk, oh Eywa, what are you doing!—” 

“I’m giving her water, she’s thirsty.”

“What?”

He actually rushed to the entrance of the tent, nearly falling headfirst in, having stumbled on some rock. Your mouth was actually open. And Tuk was really trying to get you to drink from the bowl she was holding against your mouth.

You choked at one point, still unconscious, but it was a sign of life. Lo’ak didn’t know if the shocked screech came from him or Kiri.  

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul

@eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[thealtoduck]

Well, fuck me… on a magic altar

Garfield Logan x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut, bottom!Reader, top!Gar, anal sex, virgininty loss, missionary position, magic sex ritual, unprotected sex, friends with benefits (… kinda)…

Part 1 & Part 2…

Summary: Rachel needs your and Gar’s help to seal away a demon but the process of doing it is rather heated…

——

You were working your regular shift in Madame Xanadu’s parlor, it was only 2 hours left until closing. There wasn’t a lot of business that day so you sat behind the reception reading a magazine. The bell over the door rang making you look up as Rachel and Gar came over towards you.

”Hey guys, what’s up?” you said casually, closing your magazine. Rachel looked awkwardly towards Gar for help but Gar looked just as lost on what to do. ”Y/n, uhm- there is no way to make this easy so i’m just gonna say it” Rachel warned.

”Y/n, i need you to have sex with Gar” Rachel blurted out.

”Get out of my parlor! What kind of establishment do you think we’re running here?” you stated shocked.

”Y/n, you don’t understand, i need you and Gar to have sex on a magic altar to seal away a demon” Rachel tried.

”I’m sorry, what did you just say…?” you asked still just as confused.

”Okay, Y/n, listen! There is this magic evil demon who was sealed away in a magic prison 5000 years ago in a magic temple. Every 100 years you need to do a ritual to keep him locked in, the ritual includes having virgin get their virginty taken on the altar inside the magic temple, that’s why we need you” Rachel explained fully.

You turned to Gar and said seriously ”Bro… you told her i’m a virgin… not cool”. ”Sorry, it was urgent” Gar apologised. ”Y/n focus! Are you in or not?” Rachel questioned in a panic, banging her fist down on the counter. ”Will you at least buy me dinner first?” you asked. Rachel looked like she was about to kill you before Gar cut in saying ”Of course we will”.

”Okay sick, let’s go” you said and picked up your jacket. You then walked in to Madame Xanadu’s fortune telling room, where she was shuffling a deck of cards with magic and said ”Hey, Madame Xanadu?”. ”Yes, dear?” she said looking up from her cards.

”I’m gonna have to leave early, Rachel and Gar are taking me to somekind of temple so Gar can can take my virginity to keep a demon imprisoned” you explained. Madame Xanadu didn’t flinch at the statement, only uttering a small ”Has it already been a hundered years, huh? Wow, time flies”. Before saying a quick ”Alright have fun”.

The three of you left stopping at a fast food place to get you and Gar some food. You three then made your way in to an alley where Rachel opened a portal that you all went through. On the other side you stepped out to a magnificent stone temple.

Intricate carvings were all along the walls and pillars. Torches were spread along the walls, tons of candles had been lit around the big stone altar table which was waiting for you and Gar. ”There’s the altar, when you’re ready just get up on it and do your thing” Rachel explained drawing a chalk circle around it.

”I guess i’ll just leave you to it then, good luck” Rachel said and re-opened the portal and went through, once it closed you and Gar were left alone. It didn’t hit you how awkward the whole thing was until now, when Rachel was there it had felt like you were doing your part in saving the world.

Now that it was just you and Gar the whole thing felt a lot more personal. Sure, you and Gar had been flirty and had cuddled a little in the past but you weren’t boyfriends or even dating. The two of you sat down on the temple floor in silence and ate your food.

”How are you feeling?” Gar asked caringly nudging your leg. You took a sip from your soda and answered ”Just trying to absorb the whole thing, i’m gonna be completely honest this is not how i imagined losing my virginity”.

Gar let out a small chuckle. ”Are you fine with you know… it being with me?” he asked. ”Yeah, i’d rather it be with someone i know and trust” you answered making Gar smile and say ”I promise i’ll try to make it special for you”. The two of you finished your fast food dinner and stood up.

”So… where do we begin…?” you asked awkwardly. ”How about…” Gar started and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, the action made your cheeks heat up. Gar then led you in to the chalk circle Rachel had drawn out and you sat down on the edge of the stone altar.

You took of your jacket and threw it aside, Gar stood himself between your spead legs and you and Gar started shyly making out, Gar letting you get a feel for it. His lips were delicate to yours making a quiet moan escape your mouth. Gar ran his hands on your thighs massaging them lightly.

You put your arms around his neck as your make out grew more heated. Once you pulled your lips apart, Gar looked at you with loving eyes. He wanted to make you feel good so you could remember it with joy despite the circumstances.

”Can you help me undress?” you asked him he nodded and got down on one knee. He started by taking off your shoes and socks, he then took of his own, he then stood up again. You unbuttoned your pants and Gar helped you pull them down your legs.

Gar then removed his hoodie and t-shirt revealing his slim athletic physique. You put your fingers against his chest trailing them lightly over his skin. You moved further up on the altar as Gar took of his own pants leaving him in his boxers.

The two of you sat on the altar making out, Gar lifted your shirt and helped you remove it. You had expected the big temple room to feel cold and drafty to your skin, but the many lit candles around the altar and spread through the room made it warm and cozy almost like being next to a fire place.

Gar helped you lay down on the altar which felt chilly at first touch to your back making you let out a small gasp, Gar noticed and picked up his shirt laying it down under you as a small blanket. ”Is that better?” he asked. ”Yeah” you said.

Gar positioned himself on top of you as you made out in your underwear, your bulges rubbing softly against each other for the first time. Both your cocks had grown hard in anticipation what was about to happen between the two of you.

You broke your lips from Gar and whispered ”I’m ready”. Gar nodded and uttered a small ”Okay”. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your boxers and Gar gently pulled them down, revealing your untouched manhood to him. Once your boxers were fully of he threw them aside.

He then tugged of his own underwear revealing his hung dick. Gar climbed off the altar and rumaged through his bag eventually picking up a bottle of lube. He then came back, he sat on his knees and spread your legs revealing your virgin ass for him, your face heated up as he did.

Gar noticed you had grown a bit nervous and he looked you in the eyes. ”You’re so beautiful” he said genuinely he then leaned down placing a kiss on your upper chest. He trailed kisses down your body until he eventually placed one on your dick making it twitch in excitement.

”I gonna stretch you out now, okay?” he let you know. You gave him an approving nodd and he poured some lube in his hand spreading it on his finger. He lifted your legs revealing your tight virgin hole to him, then his first finger made contact making you let out a light gasp as his lube slicked finger penetrated you.

The new feeling made you let out quiet moan. Gar studied your face for signs of discomfort but you were taking it so well. ”You’re doing so good, Y/n” he praised lightly as his finger was all the way inside you. He slowly moved his finger in and out of you until he felt he could add another finger.

He kept stretching you out until he had added a third finger and worked you open. He then removed his fingers from your ass making sure to pull out slowly. ”Are you ready?” Gar asked softly. ”Yeah” you confirmed taking his hand yours and placing a kiss on it.

Gar then spread lube over his cock and aligned himself with your hole and slowly started pushing in to your virgin heat. You gripped Gar’s arm, squeezing it as Gar slowly filled your ass with his cock. ”Your taking me so well Y/n” Gar whispered encouragingly.

Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he gave you time to adjust to him as he placed kisses on your cheek and whispered praises in your ear. After a while you told him ”You can start moving”. ”Okay” Gar nodded and slowly started pulling out before softly pushing back in.

Gar was completely stuffed inside but the previous pain had turned to pleasure as Gar rhythmically moved in and out of your tightness. You and Gar started hungrily making out once more, both your moans in pleasure echoing through the temple room

Your shared body heat created beads of sweat on your foreheads and gave your naked bodies a light sheen in the candle light. The carvings along the walls had started glowing white, probably a sign that the magic ritual had begun.

You wondered if the demon could see you get deflowered for the purpose of sealing him away. ”Gar, fuck your big” you moaned as his gentle thrusts filled you up. ”That’s right baby” Gar said with a cocky smile.

You hands pressed against Gar’s pecs, this action made Gar release a loud moan. He was in ecstasy as your tight virgin hole was squeezed around his large cock. ”Such a perfect ass” Gar praised, he wanted to bring you to the same kind of pleasure he felt.

He did his best to thrust deeper in to you without going to hard wanting to stay gentle for your first time. It worked as his length grazed against your prostate making you let out a sudden moan.

His sudden action made your orgasm quickly approach making you brain go foggy from . ”Gar, I’m gonna- I’m gonn-!” you moaned but couldn’t finish as you shot ropes of cum over yourself and Gar’s abs. The sight of your cum covered self made Gar wanna go wild.

He did is best to contain the beast from erupting from within him and taking you like a common bitch. You and Gar kissed and he said gently ”I’m close”. As he plowed himself in to you the feeling of your walls clenching around him drove him over the edge.

With one last pump in your now loose virgin hole, Gar groaned loudly as his cock erupted filling you with his warm load, his seed staining your innocence forever. Both of you panted heavily as your hot and sweaty bodies tangeled together letting you both catch your breath.

The glowing white walls created a large flash of white signifying the rituals completion. Your body felt shaky as you tried to move, Gar let you sit on the edge of the altar as he helped you get dressed again. ”Did it feel good?” he wondered.

”Yeah” you answered dreamily not having fully snapped back to reality yet, this made Gar smile. ”Was- Was i good?” you found yourself asking. Gar cupped your cheeks and said ”You were perfect” and he placed a loving kiss on your lips.

Once you both were fully dressed Rachel soon emerged through a portal to pick you up. She understandingly didn’t ask a lot more questions than ”Did it go well?” and a ”Feeling okay?” directed towards you. She opened a portal that led to right outside your apartment building and you all walked through.

Gar then turned to Rachel saying ”Can we have a moment?”. Rachel nodded understandingly and gave the two of you some privacy. ”Look i know this whole thing wasn’t ideal so i wanted to ask you out on real date to you know make up for it” Gar said.

You smirked and said jokingly ”Really? This was all i could have possibly wanted” making Gar chuckle. You continued ”I will however take you up on that date offer, how about sometime next week?”. Gar nodded and said ”Sure, i’ll text you later with a date”. ”Okay” you nodded and you pulled each other in to a hug. Gar gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before letting go.

You waved him and Rachel goodbye as they entered another portal taking them home. You then on shaky legs made your way in to your apartment building, dreaming about you future date with Gar.

[audisive]

♪ MILLION DOLLAR MAN. (💌)

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: you need a bodyguard, and simon's the only one you can trust. for now.

tags: fluff, angst (ish), hurt/comfort, romance, soft!simon, bodyguard!ghost, model!reader, trust issues, hints to a panic attack, you have a bad dad (and family)

        There's an ugly yellow folder on your vanity, sticking out like a sore thumb.

That's the first thing you see.

There's a hitch in your breath before you speak. "Vel," you walk over to your desk and call out to the lovely girl with your coat over her arm, your favorite maid. "What's this?" With manicured nails, you pick up the folder cautiously with the feeling of familiarity and déjà vu.

Veliana tilts her head to the side, the clueless little bird she is. "A folder, miss." You huff a smile out at her simple response, the pretty little thing never knowing better. "Please give Noah a call." You tell her and she nods her head automatically, still smiling at you.

When she carefully places your coat on the rack, she scurries off to who knows where. You're left in the comforts of your too-large room, a delicate piece of work that you'd paid thousands of dollars for after your face had snatched the interests of magazines, reporters, and such. You find that there are even uglier men inside when you open the flimsy thing in your hand.

Veliana is breathless when she comes back to you like the obedient girl she is, handing over the phone with your manager's name on it.

"What's wrong, darling girl?" Noah asks, annoyance seeping into his tone despite the usual pet name. "What's with the profiles?" you question right back, flipping through the folders, carefully scanning each gruesome man with horrifying detail. You already know the answer, but you dread it.

"About time you actually considered my suggestion," he voices out. "You need a new bodyguard."

  You find that your new bodyguard is just as noticeable as the folder you threw away without much thought. There's people staring at him when they would be gawking at you. 

Simon Riley is a trusted man; at least that's what you try to tell your manager. A remarkable 6'4 military man who should be off in a bar with beer – he drinks whiskey, imbecile – or resting in a broke-down apartment, not babysitting his model of a friend. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded it if he acted just a little annoyed at you, but he doesn't even spare you so much as a glare. You're not sure if you should be glad or not.

You have to admit that you do feel a little smug when your manager avoids yelling at you with Simon glaring daggers at him. Then again, there's this anxious feeling pooling at your stomach when he gets a little too close. He's certainly scarier than the last one.

His large hand calms you down when it lands on your lower back and sneaks his warmth through your thin clothing. You let out a breath, as if he'd just commanded you to do so without a word.

  Simon should be in his awfully empty apartment, sleeping the day off or making a small trip to the groceries for necessities fresh out of deployment. But when he opened the door to you, who's clearly so troubled and almost begging to help you out with.. whatever it was you asked, how could he say no? 

"It's just temporary, I swear. I just need some time to do a proper background check on the other bodyguards."

Given that your shitty father's in jail with unfinished as well as illegal business, it wouldn't be proper of him to let a civilian walk around with danger right at her back. That's what he says to himself, anyway.

He's just not so sure he signed up for the right job as a bodyguard. Truth be told, he would've preferred to be your boyfriend.. but as long as he has rights to protect you, then he won't complain.

He's well aware of the men coming for your neck for a variety of reasons. Some out of jealousy – Simon thinks that the fashion industry might as well be a warzone. Maybe that's why he accepted this in the first place – and some because of your problematic family.

He's also heard about your past cowardly bodyguards, if you can even call them that after they'd left you in the face of death. It's a wonder how you're still alive, but he wouldn't dare question it.

It doesn't help, not really, when there's an ear-deafeaning explosion and a panicked angel in his arms, clutching onto him for dear life. "Simon," you all but whimper, labored breaths and uncontrollable tears slipping out of you.

He hushes you, coos at you as sweet as he possibly can. He soothes you and cradles you against his chest as he shoots back at death and carries you to safety when the storm of chaos calms. And he never leaves. Not once.

Not even when you're well and sitting on the cold bed of an even colder hospital room. You'd begged him to stay and lay with you, and when he does, you insist that you owe him your life, and he tells you he's just doing his job.

Still, you can't help that you push yourself closer to him. "Thank you," you whisper, "for staying."

"'M yours to keep." Simon gruffs out, "my loyalty and life belongs to you. All of it." And so does his heart.

(bodyguard!ghost is just modern knight!ghost to me :3c)

        divider by @cafekitsune !

[lady-ashfade]

Strawberry Bunny

Day 4 of celebration marathon

Yandere class 1A x bunny!hybrid!fem!reader

-£ ask: “Yandere mha reaction with Strawberry Bunny reader in their bunny form” I was telling them about this so they requested it for this marathon @serxinns

-£words: 1k

-£ warning: yandere behavior, readers fur color being pink and white, bunny from coral island, short fic.

no one knew were you hid yourself at random parts of the day, one minute you’re there and the next you’ve disappeared.

the class was overbearing in your normal form, constantly picked at your cheeks and touching your fluffy ears. no one cared how flustered you got, they’d just coo and continue to baby you. the girls found it comforting to have you on their laps and play with your ears, even enjoying to watch you eat with your nose twitching.

however, todoroki was part of that train. you were his source of comfort when he was angry or needed a break.

Mina liked to dress you up in pink clothes, Tsu would be there taking pictures with Ochako.

deku knew about your quirk front to back like everyone else in his notebook. which foods refilled your energy, how often you took naps, were to scratch your ears. he knew everything about you, good and bad.

however none of them had ever seen you as a bunny. the small animal you turned into made you shy and skittish, and you wanted to rest without your friends petting you. even your teacher, aizawa had never seen you like that before.

“guys,” denki put down the switch in his hands while his friends payed attention to different things. Bakugo and kiri fighting over the game on the tv, Jiuro looking through a magazine while Mina watched tiktoks with her feet rested over kiri.

“do you guys here that?” the only one to turn their heads was jiuro. She looked around and tried to listen but the boys yelling blocked her from hearing anything.

“No, no,” denki got up from the bed , “it’s whimpering, and it sounds like a animal.” Mina looked up to the boy jumping over her. this caught her attention at the word animal. she placed her phone down and lifted herself up to follow him.

“What animal would be in the dorms? Do you think koji has one?” it wasn’t a bad guess really, the boy did it often.

“Where the hell are you guys going?” The angry blonde shouts while still staring at the tv and smashing the controllers in his hands. “Bring me a coke if you’re going to the kitchen.” Kirishima asked while doing the same as his friend.

they hummed and exited the room and they heard the sound get louder, just outside their door was a vent at the top of the wall. They heard squeaky. Their eyes fell on a small fluffy animal with pink and white fur, the legs kicking around to try and stay in the vent but was close to falling.

“That’s weird,” denki titled his head when he noticed something familiar. You had the same patterns on your ears, he knew them like the back of his hands.

“Don’t just stand there!” Mina elbowed him and jumped forward to help the animal stuck, she tried to reach for it but was to high. “It’s okay little buddy, Mina’s got you!” She tried to soothe the thing but it just got more intense with it’s kicking.

but it didn’t help them, when they started to panic their body started to fall back and the small feet started to kick them off the walls.

you started to squeal and pray you could get back up but you weren’t ever that lucky. so you feel down and Mina was quick to catch you and hold you close. you tried to get away but she didn’t let you go.

“it seems so scared,” she coo’d and looked over your bunny form, “what do you think spooked it?”

She didn’t get a response as denki just looked at you. The gears in his head spinning and it only took a moment before his eyes went wide while looking into your eyes.

“It’s y/n!” he shouted excitedly and tried to reach for you but mina turned and held you close.

“No! I got her first! She came to me.” She started to pet your fur. The mention of you made her protective and clingy. and now that you were a hopeless little bunny, she couldn’t let you go!

“Not fair,” he pouted, “I heard her cries! It was me, so give her to me.”

the whole class heard them argue, and you whining to be let go. soon the students exited their our rooms and find them in the hallway, even the students below. they found you in her arms as a bunny. now everyone started to fight at who got to hold you since they have never seen you like this before.

some tried to steal you away. So you were going from classmate to classmate. You hated it. This was the reason you didn’t want to show them!

as they all fought they didn’t notice their teacher approached and readying his quirk. sero got to you and made a run for it but he was met with Aizawa standing their with his scarf and his eyes glowing red. He looked deadly and ready to fight a villain.

“Give her.” He demanded and sero was quick to obey. Once aizawa had you he walked off to his room leaving them disappointed and upset. iida and Tsu tried to calm everyone down but missed your presence.

once you were back in his room he placed you down, “you okay kid?” within seconds you transformed back into your human form. you sighed.

“No, I just wanted some peace and quiet. I took a wrong vent and got caught.” he hummed and patted your head.

“all you have to do is ask and I’ll tell them to back off, or you can come here and rest.” He threw a blanket over himself and yawned.

“I off all people know how much naps help.”

you nodded your head, “can you lift me into the vent again?” he groaned but complied to your request.

once you were back into your bunny form he lifted you into the vent and you ran off, your little footsteps echoed off the metal. you went back to your dorm and locked your door, then went under your bed to the nest you made for yourself.

but the underlying problem was that when you went to class the next morning they would all be all over you.

[watsittoyah]

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, sex dreams, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, breeding kink and slight blood play. Some obsessive behavior..

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate to help…)

Chapter 3- Tinted Windows…

Your eyes opened and you were stretching. When you look around your room you instantly feel a panic.

Was last night a dream?

It couldn’t have been right?

You throw the sheets off of the bed and your legs felt a bit wobbly. As you run to the door you stop as a very well built Miguel O’Hara stood there with breakfast for you.

“Buen día, mi amor. How did you sleep?” He asks as he looks down at you with a smile. It wasn’t a dream, he actually is here. “I slept like a baby. How about you?” He places your breakfast down and he cups your face between his hands.

“I slept great, at least until you started snoring.” You look at him mortified. “I don’t snore!” You move away from him but he pulls you back. “I’m only teasing you. You don’t snore. But speaking of things while you were sleep, your roommate wants to talk to you.”

Your eyes shoot right to the door. “Shit, shit, shit. I need my pants. Where are my pants?” You grab a pair of sweatpants and you roll those on, tossing your ripped shorts into the trash. “I’ll be right back.” You tell Miguel as you leave the room and close the door behind you.

In the living room your see your roommate, reading a magazine. “Good morning.” You say as you stand there. “Morning.” She says as she flips the page.

Ooh she’s in a mood.

“Erica I can explain-“ She raises a hand. “You know I woke up this morning and I smelled breakfast. I was thinking, T is out of her depression funk, good for her. But then I remembered that we didn’t go grocery shopping just yet. So I left my bedroom and I see a big back in our kitchen. And that big back didn’t belong to you-”

“I can expl-”

“Let me finish. This man spoke to me, he was polite. He made me a plate, he made Milo some food. And he cleaned up after himself. Shit I’m thinking about letting him move in with us. Now is that the man who had you in a mood for the past two weeks?” You just nod and she looks up at you.

“You better had forgave him, or so help me, T I will body slam you across this apartment. Because that’s a good man you got. Hell does he have a brother?” You feel a small smile on your face and shrug.

“I don’t know we were a bit too busy last night for me to ask.” Her eyes get big. “Was it good?” She whispers. “My legs are still wobbly but girl, it was more than good.”

“You lucky bitch.” You both laugh and she gets up and pulls you into a hug. “Go, we can have that walk later. I need to go visit my mom. And make sure you two keep that in your bed room. I don’t want to come home and I see ass and tiddies where Milo eats his snacks.” You suck your teeth at your roommate but smile.

“See you later E.” She waves over her shoulder and leaves the apartment. As you walk back into your room your see Miguel getting dressed. “Where are you going?” You ask in a panic.

“I have some important business to attend to, amor. Trust me if it wasn’t important I wouldn’t be leaving your side right now.” He kisses your lips several times before walking to your door. “Oh, okay. Well will you be back later?”

“No, I’m going to be busy for the next few days, but I will text and call you every chance I get.” You give a sad smile and Miguel pulls you into a hug. “Don’t give me that look. It’s already hard enough I have to leave a beautiful woman like you alone for a while. If it were up to me I’d kidnap you.” You laugh at that but in his eyes he looked serious.

“Go, you have business and I have a breakfast that my loving hus…” You stop your words right there.

Were you about to say loving husband?

“You enjoy your day, Miguel.” You smile at him and he stands there for a moment. “You too, Tommie.”

“Here let me walk you out.” As you two walk to the front door, Miguel turns to you and he lifts your chin up so you’re staring up at him. “When I’m all done, I want to take you to dinner. Would that be okay with you?”

“Yes, I’m sure it would….are you sure you can’t stay? It’s my day off and I’m going to be all alone in this apartment for a few hours.” Just then you hear a small meow and you both look to see Milo stretching out by the window. “Don’t tempt me. You hold down the fort, Milo. And I’ll call you, amor.” Miguel pins you against the wall and he kisses you passionately, leaving you feeling light headed. “Until we see each other again.” Miguel gives you one more peck and he leaves out the door. You close it behind him and you press your back against the door, sliding down it like some love sick puppy.

“Milo don’t look at me like that.” You say as Milo watches you from across the room…

•••

It’s been a few days and you haven’t heard from Miguel. “What’s wrong baby cakes?” Your grandmother asks as you help her in her garden. “Hmm? Nothing. The strawberries look good.”

“Those are cherry tomatoes. Now I know something is wrong. Look at me.” You try to avoid her eyes but you know you can’t. “What’s wrong?” You sigh and sit down in the dirt.

“There’s this guy, and well we haven’t been talking long but…it feels like I’ve known him for a long time. Anyways he said that he would keep in contact with me and I haven’t heard from him…in the past few days.”

Your grandmother gives you a side hug. “You like this boy?”

“I do, he…just seems so familiar to me. Am I being clingy?” You ask as she helps you up off of the ground. You clean off your butt and she shakes her head. “Baby cakes, that’s the thing about you young ones. Don’t even say you’re old you’re only thirty-three, that’s young. There is no such thing as clingy when it comes to someone you care about. Call him if you want to. Leave him a message and let him know he’s on your mind. Don’t neglect your feeling. Be honest. That is what your grandfather and I do. That’s what your father and mother use to do. Be honest.”

You nod at her advice and as you go to speak you hear the back door and your grandfather comes out with a tray of drinks.

“Boy it is hot out here. How would you ladies like to take a break and have some ice cold lemonade?” You accept the glasses and hand one to your grandmother.

“Charles, you didn’t make this too sweet did you? You know your sugar levels can’t handle that.”

“Barbra, just drink the lemonade and stop worrying about my sugar levels.” As your grandparents bicker, you smile at the two. They were the best parents that anyone could have asked for.

When your parents had passed when you were thirteen, you had moved in with them. Their relationship was the blueprint for you. And maybe one day you could have what they had.

“The garden looks wonderful, Barbra. Now can I take my granddaughter to the junk yard so we can build something?” Your grandmother kisses his cheek and pats his face. “Come back to me, Charles. And bring our baby back safe.” He smiles and nods. “I will. Now come on brains. I know where we can find a mini jet engine.”

You place your empty glass down and kiss your grandmother on her cheek. “I’ll keep him safe.” You and your grandfather gets to the front of the house and you get into his pick up truck.

“What do you want to built today, brains?” Your grandfather asks as he starts driving down the street. “I’m thinking maybe a gene splicer? Or another alarm clock.” You say as you look at your phone and see a message from Miguel.

Thinking about you, amor.

You smile and text back.

I’m thinking about you too…I miss you.

You press send before you regret it and hear your grandfather cough. “You okay?” You ask concerned. “I’m alright, I’m just gonna stop by the store and grab some cough drops.”

He turns down the road and stops by a mini bodega. “I got it.” You tell him as you get out of the truck.

You walk inside and go directly to where the cough drops were. As you look for the sugar free brand you feel someone watching you. You glance around and see no one except the cashier. But he was watching the tv.

You go back to looking and you find a brand with at least 3 grams of sugar in it. “Better than nothing I guess.” You mumble as you walk to the register. You grab a bottle of water on your way up and place them both on the counter.

The cashier looks over at you and straightens. “Hello there.” He says in a friendly tone. “Hello..” You balance on the balls of your feet as he rings you out and you catch him staring.

“I hope you found everything you needed today, and if so could I take you out for a coff…” You wonder why he stops talking and when you look at him he was staring past you in horror.

You look back only to see no one was there. “Okay, well you have a good day.” You give him exact change and you go back out to the truck.

“How much do I owe you?” Your grandfather asks. You shrug. “The cashier gave it to me cause I was cute. So it’s free.” You joke. “You’re as stubborn as your father, I swear. The man wouldn’t let me pay him back for anything.” You smile and as you two pull out of the parking lot you see a large man leaving the bodega.

That looks like, nah. It couldn’t be…could it?

••••

Your hands were filthy but it was worth it for all the parts you two had salvaged. “Make sure you don’t go building something illegal. I’d hate to have to put my granddaughter in jail for the reward money.” Your grandfather says as he helps you with your parts and puts them in the back.

“I was going to say it was you and get the reward money.” You both laugh and he pats your curly hair. “You know you remind me of CJ everyday. Down to the curly hair…” Your grandfather grows silent and he takes his handkerchief out and wipes his eyes.

“I miss dad too. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I’ll look in the mirror and see his eyes.” You two stand in silence and from the corner of your eye you see movement. You try to strain your eyes but your grandfather clears his throat.

“I know you are your fathers daughter, but promise me you won’t go into that line of work.” Here we go again. “Grandpa I know you don’t want me working as a tech engineer but I know I have what it takes. Alchemax would pro-”

“Don’t you ever say that company’s name in my presence, brains. Not after what they did to this family. After what they did my your parents.” You suck in your bottom lip and nod. “Yes sir.”

As the two of you got in the car you sit in silence. “Can we stop for some ice cream? I’ll pay.” You tell him. “We can stop and I’ll be paying. I won’t have my granddaughter spoiling me. I’m suppose to spoil you. And maybe some great-grand children if you decide to have some.”

“Here we go. Grandpa I will have babies one day but not today or tomorrow.”

“I know, I just want you to have someone. Like I have your grandmother. I want you happy. Even if it’s with a gold fish.” Your grandfather drives and you look out the window. In the rear view mirror you see a black sleek sports car following the truck. The windows to the car were tinted black so you couldn’t see who it was behind the wheel.

You have light conversation with your grandfather and keep an eye on the car. So far it’s been following you for the past ten minutes.

“…I’ll be sure to stay over for dinner tonight.” You answer as he takes a left turn and sure enough the car takes a left turn as well.

Who is following us?

When your grandfather finally gets to the ice cream parlor, the car just drives past and you feel yourself finally relax.

Maybe it was just a coincidence?

You and your grandfather head inside of the ice cream parlor and were greeted by Mary-Anne. The owner of the parlor. “Hey guys, what can I get for you two today?”

“I’ll take the cherry cone with butter crunch cream.” You give your grandfather a look. “Mary-Anne he’ll have the vanilla sugar free cone.”

He huffs. “Back in my day a man could eat a honey bun and have a bottle of coke and no one would bat an eye.”

“Well I want my grandfather to see me in my wedding dress so no complaints. Alright I’ll have the toffee special, but in a waffle bowl.” Mary-Anne gets your orders ready and your grandfather pats his pockets.

“Drat, I left it-I’ll go get it. Don’t you dare pay.” He goes to leave but you stop him. “I’ll grab your wallet. It’s in your special spot right?” You go to open the door but the handle was moved away from you and you’re staring into a pair of pretty hazel eyes.

Before he could speak you push him back out. “Miguel, what are you doing?” You ask him in a hushed tone. “What do you mean? I was just in the neighborhood.” You blink serval times because clearly this man thinks you’re stupid.

“Miguel, don’t you lie to me, why have you been following me?” He goes to lie but you raise your brow at him. “Don’t you lie! That was you leaving the bodega. That was you in the junk yard. And that was you in the car following us. Before you say no, there are hundred of ice cream parlors in Nueva York. But this one, is special because I’ve been coming here since I was a little girl. That? That is too much of a coincidence. Now tell me the truth.” You tap your foot and cross your arms waiting for his answer. He sighs.

“I was only following you because I had happened to spot you while I was out. I was going to text you but I thought that was a bit creepy. I’m sorry mi corazón. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Miguel pulls you in as he moves your arms so he can embrace you.

You wish you could stay mad at him but you can’t help but melt from his touch. Your body missed him. “I missed you.” You tell him as you look up at him. “And I missed you too.” Miguel leans down to kiss you but you two jump apart when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

“Grandpa! I was just-”

“About to introduce me to your friend?” He asks as he eyes Miguel. Miguel goes to shake his hand. “Hello sir. My name is Miguel O’Hara, it’s so nice to meet you.” He shakes his hand back and you can tell he’s sizing him up.

“I wish I could say the same.”

“Grandpa!” You scold him. “Tell me what are your intentions with my granddaughter?” If you could have the ground open up and swallow you, you would.

“I want nothing more than to keep her safe, sir.” Your grandfather looks over at you. “Is this man someone who you like?” You feel put on the spot but you nod and feel your face warm up. “Yes.”

He huffs. “I already knew it. When I came out here the boys paws were all over your behind I thought I was going to get some grandkids tonight.”

Miguel tries to hide his laugh and you cover your face. “Grandpa I’m paying for your ice cream. I’ll even let you get the one you really want just go back inside please.” He purses his lips but goes back inside.

“I like him. He’s funny.” Miguel says as he stands there watching your grandfather. “He’s a real riot. So are you still handling your business?”

“Nope, I am officially done for the rest of the day.”

“Good, then I’m inviting you over for dinner at my grandparents.” Miguel looks a bit surprised. “So soon? Are you sure?” You lean in close. “Miguel we literally had sex and I know you have fangs.” You whisper to him.

“Right…right. Do you think your grandparents will like me? Should I bring something? Maybe I should go get a haircut.”

“Don’t you dare cut those locks of yours. You’ll be fine and you can bring my grandmother flowers. She has a garden so she’d love that. Now let me go back inside before this grumpy old man starts to tell me about condoms and other forms of birth control. And Miguel?”

“Sí amor?” You pat his cheek. “You’ll be fine. I’ll send your address. Dinner is at seven o clock sharp. Don’t be late.” You kiss his lips and walk back inside of the parlor. Your grandfather narrowing his eyes at Miguel.

“Grandpa stop that. He’s a nice guy. How much do I owe you, Mary-Anne?”

“He better be nice. He’s as big as a bear and he stares a little too hard at you. I don’t like it.”

“Mr. Valentine you should be open minded. My son, Maverick. He brought home a handsome boy the other day and I have to say he makes him happy. Tommie does your man friend make you happy?”

“Yes he does. And he is coming over for dinner tonight. Grandpa don’t even try to argue, or I’ll tell grandma about the ice cream.” He shuts his mouth as you pay and you two leave out of parlor.

You shoot Miguel a text and you cross your fingers hoping tonight goes perfect.

••••

Good thing you had a few cute clothes in your old bedroom.

You were freshly showered and you were trying to get your curls to listen. But they wanted to defy gravity and stick up. “Where is my butterfly clip?” You say as you search your dresser. You find the clip and secure it in your hair.

You then give yourself a nice look over. You were wearing a pretty flower dress that came down to your calf’s. A pair of yellow wedges and you had on a thin chain with your initials on it.

“Is this too much?” You ask as you turn and look at your plump butt in the mirror. “No, this is cute. And sexy at the same time.” You comment as you grab your phone and check the time.

Miguel had sent a text that he was outside and you ran out of your old room to go meet him. “No running.” Your grandmother calls out from the kitchen. “Sorry!” You call over your shoulder. Just before you open the door you take a calm breath and put a smile on your face.

When you open it you see Miguel standing there with two bouquets of flowers. “These Spider Lillie’s are for you, amor. And these baby breathe flowers are for your grandmother.” You smell the flowers and they smelled amazing. “Thank you, please come in. I’ll introduce you.” You lead him into the kitchen and there you look for a vase.

“Grandma, this is Miguel. Miguel this is my grandma.” Your grandmother wipes her hands dry on a dish towel and she opens her arms to him.

“Come here and let me look at you.” She touches his face and she then smiles at the both of you. “My you are handsome. Now I see why my granddaughter is taken by you.”

“Grandma, please.” You whine. Miguel smiles at her and she pats his chest. “Miguel I hope you like chicken stew with vegetables from my garden.”

“That sounds delicious, Señora. May I help you set the table?” She nods in approval and you show her the flowers Miguel had gotten you.

“Oh these will look so lovely in my garden, Miguel. Thank you.” She sniffs them and he looks over at you and mouths that he likes her. You mouth back what’s not to like?

After the table is set and the food is out, the four of you sit down and get ready to eat. You help serve Miguel and he pours you a drink. Your grandparents watches you two and feel a smile on your face as Miguel’s hand finds yours under the table.

“So Miguel, what do you do for work?” Your grandmother asks as she passes a roll to your grandfather. “I am a scientist. I work in the field that involves evolution to mammals as well as insects.”

“Ah, you're a brain just like Tommie here. I’m happy, the bloodline has hope yet.” You see your grandmother shoot a glare at your grandfather and then she smiles at Miguel.

“I apologize for my husband, his sugar is just low. Anyways, how did you and Tommie meet?” You go to speak but Miguel talks.

“It’s actually quite embarrassing. I had moved into the building about four months ago and I had first saw your granddaughter when I was bringing boxes to my apartment. I have to say I was smitten the very moment I seen her. But I was too shy to approach her first so I just stood back and waited for the perfect opportunity. So it was in the parking lot, she had dropped her water bottle and it was really flying down the walk way so I picked it up and from that very moment, we’ve been talking ever since.” Miguel says as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb.

“Oh my goodness look at you two. So cute, you know it’s as if you two have been together for years. Doesn’t it seem like that, Charles?”

“Mhm, yeah.” Your grandfather says as he eats another forkful. You eat your food and feel that dinner was going to be perfect for sure.

After a plate and a half, some dessert and coffee, it was time to go home.

“Are you two sure you had enough?” Your grandmother asks as she sees you two out. “Grandma, if we have anymore food, we will have to be rolled back to the apartment.” You says as you give her a hug and a kiss.

“Dinner was amazing, Miss Barbra. Next time I come over I’ll have to share my abuela’s cookies recipe with you.” He gives her a hug as well and she rubs his back. “You two don’t be a stranger, and Tommie make sure you call me when you two get home.”

“I will!” Miguel leads you to his car and he opens the door for you. After he makes sure you’re inside safely he closes it and walks around. You open the door and he slides in. “I like your grandparents. They’re sweet.”

“They are. And even though my grandpa was acting grumpy he likes you. Did you see his face light up when you mentioned that you liked football. I think he’s going to take you away from me.”

“Nah, he’s not my type. I like pretty women named Tommie Valentine.” Miguel starts up his car and he drives out of the driveway. As he drives you sit there in silence for a while.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks as he holds your hand. You sigh. “I was just thinking how much I don’t know about you. Like was what you said about meeting me true?”

“Of course. I seen you wearing this pretty pink dress and you were talking to Erica about watching a robotics documentary. Your hair was out and you looked happy. I wanted to talk to you but well you know.” You look at his profile and study it.

“I’m still sad you didn’t come up to me sooner. I would’ve liked to have known I had a secret admirer.”

“Well, mi princesa. The whole thing about a secret admirer is that it is a secret. And besides I’m sure I would’ve startled you with my demeanor.” He says as he glances at you.

“I guess, you are a bit intimidating. But I still don’t know much about you. Like do you have a brother? Are your parents still around? Where do you work? Why do you have fangs?” He laughs out loud and kisses your knuckles.

“Alguien tiene muchas preguntas. So many questions. Well I have a half brother named Gabriel. It’s a bit of a touchy subject with my parents but they are still around. I work at Columbia Tech. And about the fangs that’s going to have to wait until later, only because it’s a lot to explain.”

You pout at the last answer. “Okay, I guess but when you finally tell me I’m going to have notes ready.” He chuckles at your answer and shakes his head. “I know you will. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“Have you saved any people?” That question causes him to freeze and he looks at you as he stops at the stop sign. “What did you say?”

“Have you saved any people? I know being a scientist can bring on new discoveries to help further modern medicine. If that’s a touchy subject for you I can-”

He interrupts you by kissing you. Which’s causes the wind to be sucked out of your lungs. When he moves back his eyes were gentle and you can tell he wants to say something but instead he continues driving.

You sit back in your seat and you soon hear rain hit his windshield. “I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight. This rain is going to be so good. Maybe I’ll sleep with my window open.” You say as you look out the window.

“Is that so?” Miguel asks as he lets go of your hand and squeezes your upper thigh under your dress. He gets to the inside parking lot and you watch as his hand squeezes again. “Yes. Should I not sleep with my window open?”

You watch a smirk crawl across his lips. “I’m not saying no, but if you’re not careful you might let the boogeyman in that way.” Miguel backs into a parking spot and that move right there made a moan escape your lips. “Did you say something, amor?”

“No! Nope! I didn’t. But I’m a big girl, Mr. O’Hara. I don’t believe in the boogeyman.” You say as you move your hips a little so he can go further up your dress. “Oh that’s a shame. Because if you did believe in him, I’d have to come over and check to make sure he doesn’t come into your room tonight.” Miguel says as he moves his hand and runs this thumb across your bottom lip.

“Well I know the boogeyman won’t be coming into my room. But I know who I want to come.” You say as you hold his hand still and suck his middle and ring finger. Miguel’s eyes instantly turn ruby red and he presses a button to make his seat lean back.

“My my, you are a big girl. Well why don’t you show me what else big girls can do, espléndida.” You lick his fingers and bring his hand under your dress and under your panties.

He slides his wet fingers inside of you and you grip his wrist as you moan. “Miguel…” You moan out, knowing no one can hear you over the rain.

“Your pretty little pussy is sucking in my fingers so well. I wonder how many more fingers you can take.” He whispers against your ear as he uses his palm to rub your clit. You feel him insert another finger and you lean your head back, letting your throat be exposed to him. He licks and sucks your neck as he does a come here motion inside of you.

“Oh god…” You groan out as you move your hips. “You feel that? Your greedy little pussy keeps squeezing around my fingers. But I have something else it can squeeze.” He takes your hand and places it over his crotch and you moan because you want to taste him.

You move him back and you unzip his pants. “Can I?” You ask as you look at him and moan. “It’s all yours, amor. Do whatever you want to me.” He leans back and you lean over the seat as you pull his dick out and suck him. He continues to rub your pussy as you suck the head. You choke a little which turns you on because he throbs in your mouth.

“This mouth, this fucking mouth is heaven. Fuck.” Miguel moans as he grips the back of your neck. He slowly fucks your mouth as he rubs you and your eyes roll back as you moan and gag. “Fuck, don’t stop. Just keep sucking. You don’t need air right? No you don’t. You don’t need air. Seré tu aire.” You feel tears running down your face but you feel yourself getting extremely wet.

You wanted this man to fuck your throat, till he came. He bucked up faster hitting the back of your throat and your legs started to clench as you were close to coming on his seat. His head falls back as he groans that he’s coming. You tighten your throat and in just that simple movement Miguel’s whole body went still and he let out a whimpering groan as he came down your throat. You swallow deeply and you shiver as you come soon after.

The both of you were breathing heavy when you had leaned back. Miguel was staring at you, his eyes were roaming your body. You were staring at him. Already taking off your panties and climbing over the seat, straddling him.

You guide him inside of you and you both let out a moan as he stretches you out. As the base meets your pelvis you still and Miguel placed his hands on your ass and he grips you tight.

“Rock your hips for me. I’m going to show you how I like to be ridden.” You start to move your hips but Miguel guides you and he bites his lip drawing blood from his fangs.

You lean over and flick your tongue against his blooded lip and he captures your lips with his. He kisses you and slaps your ass causing you to rock your hips harder. “Just like that. Princesa, fuck me. Fuck me just like that. You’re to good. Eres tan buena conmigo. Just like that. Keep that up and I’ll get you pregnant.”

You tighten around him and you fuck him harder as you rock your hips. “You like that? The thought of me fucking coming inside of you? Oh Princesa, I’ll fuck the come inside of you. Come here.” He grabs a hold of you and you feel him scrape his fangs against your shoulder as he fucks up deeper inside of you. You let out a strangled moan and you bite into his shoulder instead.

He groans out your name and moans out he’s coming. Your body shakes with climax and you both come hard, causing a mess on his driver seat. You rest your hand on his window and he rests his head against your chest.

You look down at him and he looks up at you. “Aren’t you glad I have tinted windows?” He says causing the two of you to laugh. He gently pats your butt as you slide off of him. You wince and you fix your dress.

“Sorry about your seats.” You say feeling embarrassed. “Don’t be sorry, I was going to get my car detailed anyway. And Tommie?”

“Hmm?” You ask feeling very lust drunk. “Anything you want to ask, just ask me. I would never hide anything from you.” He then leans over and gives a peck to your lips. “Mmm, thank you, Miguel.”

“No need for a thanks. I just want to be honest with you…Oh! Make sure you tell your grandmother you’re home.”

You pick up your phone and text her then put the phone back in your bag. “Do you want to come inside and spend the night?” You ask hoping he’ll say yes. “Y…I can’t. I have something to do. But I can walk you inside.” You frown at that.

Because for some reason you feel as if Miguel is hiding more than why he has fangs.

The more you get to know him the less you actually know who Miguel O’Hara really is…

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