#and instead it's THIS. I'm playing through a game expecting nothing

[ehlnofay]

still thinking about the upsetting npc I had the displeasure of meeting yesterday. fuck the shivering isles

[doctorweebmd]

coming out of my baldurs gate 3 delirium (aka i am working a night shift and can't physically play it. at work.) to say that horikoshi. horikoshi when i GET YOU. you are NOT leaving izuku with no quirk and no arms. i am in your walls

[goldsbitch]

can I request a Lando x reader where the reader’s weakness is when people stroke her hair? Her mind goes completely blank and she falls silent immediately when people stroke her hair and Lando uses it at his advantage.

Fluffy pls and ty🫶🏻

omg, i love this prompt so much - thank you and hope you like it!!

This is one is dripping with sweetness a little too much, don't say I did not warn you. No other warning.

Lando was born a tease, oscillating between clueless and shy, to unapologetic and bordeline dickish. It all depended on the setting, his relationship to the person and how much sleep he got the night before. Sometimes your boyfriend was the sweetest little thing, giggling shyly about everything instead of coming up with an actual response, and the other times he was a walking menace actively seeking every opportunity how to get you into a flustered state.

You and Lando were full on deep in the beginning of your relationship, the sweetest part of the honeymoon phase. To put it bluntly - fucking almost non stop. And the desire was never-ending. Blinding sunshine kissed good morning to every day you two got to wake up next to each other. Problems seem to be non existent. Bliss.

It was the way his hair curled when he got a little bit sweaty, his toned body what you were desperate to explore from every angle and the need to know every little secret trick that worked on him. It became some sort of a game, who would get better at knowing the other. Which one of you found all the buttons to push.

Lando rose up that morning and chose violence. Metaphorical one, of course. Snuggling up to you in order to wake you up as well for some morning work out, as he like to call it. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear and touching you all over your body. But you were just incredibly sore from the past few days, physically unable to keep up.

"Why don't you love me anymore," he pleaded jokingly as you murmured another weak appeal for your sleep.

"Lando, you know I love you more than anything," you replied, still half asleep. But it was hard to distinguish as reality resembled a sweet dream everyday lately.

"I remember when you used to want me, physically," he kept going.

"We literally had sex few hours ago, stop whining," you kissed him between your words. He looked at you with his incredible eyes, little devil dancing in each one of them.

"Exactly, too long ago. Wish I could go back in time when you were not sore and get inside you all over again."

You simply laughed, absolutely smitten with this lovey dovey side of him. His words made you melt like butter sitting under direct sun. You brushed your noses together and then he kissed you.

The best part of romantic relationships is the one that you cannot absolutely share with other people, the almost embarrassing pleas, desire and gross goofiness, simping at each other all the time.

"Fine, if you play by these rules, I'll come back with my own revenge," he said finally as you inevitably had to start getting ready to go to the paddock with him.

Today was the big day. You'd been spotted in public countless of times, the "girlfriend" title officially sitting on your head for weeks now. But this was the first time you were to join him in the paddock as a wag. You were trying to hide your nervousness, but he saw right through you. Before you exited the apartment, he made you stop and took your face in his hands. "I'm happy I get to do this with you. I love parading you around, for everyone to see that we're a team." You smiled, his words hitting like first snowflakes of the year. "Poor Oscar, I can't wait to finally trauma dump the shared misery you bring to our lives," you jokes and locked lips with him once again. "God, it's terrifying how much I like you," you said automatically, without having to think about it.

//

It actually wasn't as bad as you'd expected. It was definitely weird and strange, but not necessarily bad. Having Lando by your side as you passed the gates definitely helped. The photographers were lined up as people at a shooting range would and it did feel like that at first. But as quickly as you were initially overwhelmed, fatigue took over you and you blocked their ever-presence out. Trying to chat up those Lando introduce you to and memorizing the names. You knew how much some of these people meant to Lando, so you were trying to be at your best behavior. The thought that his friends would hate you in the same way as some of his fans haunted you.

In the middle of all the rush, you parted for a moment. To be honest, little peace of quiet and chill was something you appreciated. But remember, Lando woke up and chose violence this morning. And his plan was quite simple, yet bulletproof.

"Y/N! There you are, my love," you heard from coming from behind you. "I have someone to introduce to you! I'm very much sure you'll appreciate meeting him." As you turned, you saw Daniel Ricciardo walking your way with your Lando. You were a little perplexed as to why Lando was so cheerful about that. You clearly remembered him getting very upset when you admitted to him that at some point in the past, when formula 1 was a world far away from you, that you had a minor crush on Daniel. Which obviously went out of the window once you met Lando. That did not mean that Lando was 100% ok with it.

"Y/N, as I'm sure you know, this is Daniel, hell of a driver and good friend of mine," Lando continued and you knew him well enough to know he had ulterior motives. Not sure what to do, you smiles shyly and shook Daniel's hand.

"Hi, Daniel," you said, eyes flinching between him and Lando. You were full on preparing for anything. Lando's smirk almost had a life of his own at that point.

"Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I've heard quite a lot things about you!" Daniel opened, life of the party as per usual.

You chuckled. "All good things, I hope!" And with that, Lando stepped behind you and put his arm around you.

"Only the best," he said, leaned closed and inconspicuously started to stroke you hair gently. Oh, he did not just go this low.

It was slow, yet like tidal wave. You stopped breathing for a moment. Your body relaxing, as if you'd just taken the world's best sedatives. The way his hands made you feel was etherial. It was the same sensation the luckier ones experienced when listening to ASMR and the less fortunate ones sometimes called an orgasm. Shivers slowly traveling around your whole body, every part becoming sensitive out of nowhere. You weren't able to look at Daniel, let alone continue speaking. Lando was more than aware of what touching your hair did to you. He'd discovered this trick quite early on. And it was his favorite one.

"So, where are you from?" Daniel attempted at small talk. But how could you possibly give a fuck at that moment. Not that your body would even allowed you to respond. The only thing you were able to take in from the outside world were the soft slow movements Lando's fingers were doing, blocking everything out instanteniously.

Daniel stared at you, waiting. From his perspective, this was a very awkward meeting.

Lando answered for you, with a smirk you did not see, but could feel from the tone of his voice. "You have to excuse her, she is bit shy in front of new people."

You could not give less of a fuck at that moment of what these two were saying. Your lips were starting to shiver from getting so sensitive. You took a short breath and someone who would be standing close and knew you well would know, that what escaped your mouth was not a nervous laugh, but something very close to a moan.

Lando and Daniel were saying words, but none of that was important, while Lando's fingers were working his magic. He would only leave your hair alone once he saw Daniel leaving.

You wanted to be mad at him. But you were still sort of high from all the sensation bomb Lando dropped on you. You slowly turned around to face him, coming down from your own personal nirvana.

You took a deep breath while he watched you without a blink and biting hims smile away.

"You promised," you let out air that got stuck in your lungs somewhere along the way. "You promised you would not do this in public." Your brain was slowly wiring up to normal again.

"I told you I'd punish you for the morning," he said as if it was the most amusing thing ever. "Also, if Daniel is my competition, I'm going to use all the advantage I have."

Lando had a way of looking at you that made you unravel instantaneously and there was no way of stopping it. There was just something about his smile that did it for you. As anyone who is properly in love, you could not imagine somebody being able tor resist that. In your love soaked mind, he was irresistible. To a normal mind, he was probably just a regular guy, but that idea was unfathomable to you.

"I'm pretty sure that after what I just pulled, you will not have to worry about Daniel liking me," you chuckled, having to accept that Lando won this one.

"I would never let my guard down...But yeah, I think this one is pretty safe," he chuckled once more. You kissed his overly proud face and promised to yourself to get back at him later, in the privacy of his bedroom.

[mistiell]

Ok so, maybe you knew this already or maybe not, but... In the game, if you hover over Astarion's original outfit it says that it looks rather old and mended over several times. The running theory is that he's been reparing his own clothes (explains the cheeky embroidery in his underwear) , since we damn well know that Cazador would not give two hoots about it, and that poor baby has been running around in a 200 year old shirt and probably doesn't have much clothes with him. I just want something fluffy... maybe the reader always let's him have first dibs on whatever they find or even gets him new clothes. I just imagine him finding a brand new shirt on his tent that is soft and comfortable and I just want to weep in a corner 🥺

Can you help a sister out?

Here you are <33 (also, I'm so sorry this took so long lol) WC: 1.3k Also CW for potential spoilers

---

Astarion is slow to wake this morning, fully intending to lay with you in his tent as long as you’ll allow. Rolling over with his eyes still closed, he reaches to hook his arm around your waist only to grasp at nothing but air.

He’s certainly awake now.

It’s unusual to find you missing given he’s usually the first to wake between the two of you; two hundred years of living in The Underdark and only ever surfacing at night having apparently made him a little sensitive to light.

Sitting up and shifting onto his knees, he reaches to pull the tent flap back and peer out at the campfire. A small gust of the cool morning air sweeps over his bare torso, raising goosebumps over the skin of his arms despite the fact that he’s not really bothered by the cold. That little spike of anxiety dulls when he finds you haven’t strayed far; standing maybe fifteen feet away in conversation with Karlach.

As if you can sense him, you glance over and light up when you spot him peeking out of the tent, excusing yourself from the tiefling. He expects you to come straight over, but instead, you turn to grab a basket he hadn’t seen first.

He shuffles back to let you come inside, flushing a bit when you brush a few rogue curls from his face and bend to peck his hairline, “Good morning, handsome.”

“I- Good morning.” Is all he manages, still tired and a little stunned. Shifting off of his knees to sit cross-legged, he peers into the basket as you set it down in front of him and cocks a brow, “What’s this?”

“Clothes.”

“Well yes, I can see that, darling.” He sasses and you chortle, “But why have you brought me a basket of clothes?”

“I found it the last time we left camp.” He remembers that. You’d gone out with Karlach, Gale and Lae’zel and came back bloodied and bruised. He’d been so focused on getting you patched up that he hadn’t even thought of asking about what you might have found.

You clear your throat and glance away, smiling sheepishly, “I picked out some things I thought you’d like, but then I thought you might prefer to have a look through yourself, so,” You shrug and jerk your nose at the basket, “I brought you all of it.”

His heart would be stuttering in his chest if it could. Reaching into the pile, he thumbs over a few of the garments, feeling the different fabrics and looking over all the different colours. It’s been centuries since he’s had a choice in what to wear. Sure, he’s picked up some things throughout your travels but never so much all at once. It’s a little overwhelming, having all this to pick through after so long.

Taking hold of the basket, he pushes it closer to you, “Show me what you picked out first.”

“Oh,” Your heart rate spikes, and he smiles as you stutter out, “Are- Are you sure? I’m not sure you’d actually like what I picked out. That’s one of the reasons I brought you the whole basket.”

He scoffs and waves off the thought, “Nonsense. You could hand me the most distasteful outfit in all of Faerûn and I’d at least try it on for you.”

“Really?” “Of course I would.” He realises the implications of what he’s just said and tries to play off the sentiment with a puckish grin, gesturing towards himself, “It’s hard to not look good in something when you’re this beautiful.”

You laugh, eyes squinting shut with the force of your smile. “Yes, you truly are dashing, my love.”

“Stating the obvious, but I can’t complain,” You roll your eyes at him as he taps the sides of the basket, “Now, are you going to show me what you picked out? Or are you just going to sit here sing my praises? Personally, I’d be fine either way.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get on with it,” Reaching into the clothes, your laughter tapers off as you glance back up at him timidly one last time, “But if you don’t like something, tell me, okay?”

He lays his palm flat against his sternum, all dramatics as he grins, “Cross my heart and hope to,” He pauses, before chuckling, “Well, die again, I suppose.”

He laughs when you shoot him a glare with no real malice behind it and tut disapprovingly.

He watches in quiet curiosity as you pull out a few items, explaining why you thought he’d like them as you go. Your reasons range from colours and patterns to embroidery and necklines, all of which are shockingly on par with his tastes. It appears you know him better than he thought you did.

“That’s about it, I think.” Your brows furrow in a way that is entirely too cute – especially for someone he’s watched eviscerate hoards of goblins – before you perk up with an excited gasp, “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Turning to look this way and that, you make a little sound of satisfaction when your gaze lands on your pack. Your shirt rides up a bit when you twist onto your knees to reach for it, and he stifles the urge to run his hand over the sliver skin it exposes. You rummage through a few pockets before finding what you’re looking for, returning to kneel in front of him with something hidden in your hand.

“Close your eyes.” You urge, and he does as you’ve asked.

“Ooh, saved the best for last, have you?” He grins, holding out his hands before you even ask.

You chuckle, sounding a little nervous, “Hopefully.”

He hears the tinkling of metal and nearly jumps when your hand makes contact with his, one cradling the backs of his while the other presses something small and rough into his palm.

“Open.” He can hear the smile in your voice as you say it.

On your command, he opens his eyes to find you’ve given him a necklace. The pendent is a little piece of a raw, orange crystal encircled by dainty gold rods that are bent to resemble branches.

“This is... beautiful.” He breathes, turning it over in his hand to admire the jagged edges, “What kind of crystal is it?”

“Sunstone.” He looks up at you then, finding a shy smile hung on your lips, “I know it’s a little on the nose but...,” You worry your bottom lip for a moment, clearly a little hesitant to continue, “I know you’re worried about... what’ll happen once the tadpoles are removed. So, I wanted to get you something just in case. It’s not the same thing, obviously, but I thought this way you can still figuratively have a little piece of the sun if,” Cutting yourself off, you glance away for a moment, “Well, if things don’t go the way we hope.”

He stares at you for a long moment, entirely unsure of what to say. He doesn’t think there’s anything he could say to convey just how much the gesture means to him.

Setting the necklace on his pillow, he draws you into his arms and weaves them tight around your waist. He pulls you to him so suddenly that your knees bump his shins, but you don’t seem to mind as you hook your arms around the back of his neck. His eyes burn as he murmurs against the side of your neck, “I love you.”

You card your fingers through his hair and he shudders, leaning further into you as you dot a few sweet kisses along the length of his shoulder.

“I love you too.” Your words are muddled as they’re mumbled into his skin, “More than you know.”

Maybe he didn’t before, but he thinks he has an idea now. You love him enough that you gave him his own little chunk of the sun. Even if things don’t pan out they way he hopes they will, he doesn’t think he’ll need the necklace – however pretty it may be.

He’s already got his bit of the sun wrapped up tight in his arms.

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 2. the journal

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Your memories still remain out of reach, so you ask Joel to tell you a bit about yourself, and with the help of a journal you kept, you begin to learn more about the person you became in the past ten years, leaving you with more questions than answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, eating, alcohol use, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia

WC: 6.3K

Series Masterlist

"Did'ya get any sleep?"

You glanced up at Joel as you walked side by side towards the dining hall.

"No," you admitted, looking straight ahead again.

After Joel left you in his - your - bedroom, instructing you to rest on his way out, you found you could do anything but. Your mind was spinning with all of the information you had just learned, and you weren't sure which topic consumed you more: the end of the world or the supposed love of your life.

The longer his words set in, the more you were finding it difficult to look at him. It was such a strange feeling, having this large, burly, gruff man proclaim his love for you, to say he would stop at nothing to make you feel the same way, to insist you were meant for each other. It seemed so out of character, though you hardly felt like you knew him. But even now as you walked down the street, you noticed how some of the people in town glanced at him. Moving quickly out of his way.

It wasn't just you who found him intimidating.

You were distracted as you walked, curiously peering into storefronts and repurposed buildings when a group of children playing a game of tag nearly ran into you. At the last moment, Joel tugged your arm, pulling you into his side just in time. The children seemed to realize their mistake because their laughter quickly stopped and the smiles fell from their faces as they looked up at him.

"We're sorry, Mr. Miller," a young boy no more than eight years old said.

Miller. You never even bothered to ask his last name.

Joel just grunted and they scurried away, no doubt eager to escape his glare. You chanced a look at him, studying his stern expression when you realized he was still holding you against him. He was warm. Warmer than you expected. And solid. You cleared your throat and stepped away from his grasp, muttering your thanks and glancing around the busy street to avoid the disappointed look in his eye when it became clear you weren't comfortable with him touching you.

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans and continued to walk in silence down the main road. A few people shot you curious looks or did double takes as they walked by, and you had to assume if Ellie heard the news about your accident, then others had, as well.

The Tipsy Bison came into view at the corner of the street, made obvious by the large crowds of people gathered outside.

"Does everyone have to eat here or are you allowed to have food in your homes?" you asked him, and he looked down at you, surprised by the question.

"We got food. It's not like a prison or somethin'," he said with a chuckle. "Most folks like to come here to socialize, but sometimes we cook dinner at home," he stopped short when he realized he never asked you what you preferred. "Did'ya wanna stay home instead?"

"No, this is fine," you told him over your shoulder.

"You sure? Maybe it's too much right now," he replied, jogging a bit to keep up.

"I'm sure. You won't leave me, right?" you asked, looking at him nervously.

"'Course not," he said, trying to hide his grin. He liked that you wanted him around, even if it was only because you didn't know anybody else. It was a start.

When Joel swung the door open, holding it wide so you could enter first, it might have been your imagination but you thought the loud chatter simultaneously died down for a split second. Then Joel stepped in beside you and the volume rose once again.

You wanted to look around and take in the rustic atmosphere but you could feel the eyes on you as Joel led you through the crowd, the scrutiny making you feel extremely out of place, so you kept your gaze pinned straight ahead. Following dutifully behind, you watched as people automatically moved out of his way, like he was Moses parting the Red Sea, until he reached a table in a somewhat quiet corner of the dining hall. He pulled out a chair and stood behind it, his hand still resting on the back, and it took you a second to realize he was waiting for you to sit so he could push it in. You quietly thanked him then finally looked around the room.

The dining room had tables scattered around, and as far as you could see, they all appeared to be taken. People were standing in groups, drinking and laughing and eating and you wondered how in the world your table wasn't taken. You were about to turn and ask when an older man approached your table.

"Hey guys," he said, pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket. "What'll it be?"

You went wide eyed for a moment, looking around trying to figure out what your choices were when, much to your relief, Joel spoke for you both.

"Still got any of that stew left?"

"Sure do. Few guys got lucky earlier today, too. Got two deer, so we'll be havin' more soon," he replied, jotting something down on his paper. "Two whiskies?"

Joel was about to nod when you spoke up for the first time.

"Just water for me, thanks," you said, and the man nodded his head.

"Thanks, Seth," Joel said as he walked away.

You glanced at Joel quickly, awkwardly catching his eye. It felt too much like a date. Dropping your gaze to the table, you tried to think of something to say.

"Probably a good idea, skippin' alcohol," he said. "Didn't even think about it, what with your head and all."

"Yeah," you said, your hand coming up to gently touch the stitches. "Besides, I don't like whiskey, anyway," you added. Joel laughed softly as he watched you shift nervously in your chair.

"What?" you asked with a frown.

"Nothin'," he replied, still staring at you in disbelief. "Just ever since you got here you've been tossin' back whiskey better than most of the men. You must've gotten a taste for it at some point."

"There's no way," you said, scrunching your nose when Seth put down Joel's glass in front of him. He stared down at it wistfully, swirling the amber liquid in the glass, lost in thought.

"Whiskey's how we first met," he said softly, still staring at the glass. You tilted your head towards him, waiting for him to continue. "When you first arrived, you were like a caged animal. You came here lookin' to blow off steam," he said with a distant smile. "It was a slow night. Just you and me and a handful of others. You were tossin' that shit back like it was nothin'."

You watched him as he reminisced. His eyes shone brightly and a small smile played on his lips, it almost felt like you were intruding on something special.

"When me and Ellie first arrived, no one really went outta their way to talk to me. I preferred it that way. Was used to bein' on my own," he continued, looking up at you now. "But that night, you sat down next to me at the bar like you had been waitin' for me or somethin'. You asked me if I was drinkin' for fun or drinkin' to forget. Those were the very first words you said to me."

You were completely silent as he spoke. The way he told it, it felt like you could see the scene playing out right before you, the way he remembered every detail left you in awe.

"What did you say?" you asked a little breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked down at the table.

"Drinkin' to forget."

You waited for him to elaborate, but when it became apparent he wasn't going to, you asked him another question.

"Then what happened?"

He raised his eyebrows and hummed, a slow smile stretching across his face before he answered.

"You told me you could help me have fun and help me forget," he said, and you could feel the heat instantly flush your cheeks.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, covering your mouth, utterly mortified. "Please tell me you're joking."

He shook his head, still smiling at the memory. You glanced around the room, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"So then, did we...?" you trailed off, gaze still fixed on a spot on the wall.

"Oh, yeah. 'Course we did. I'm no saint," he chuckled.

"Jesus Christ," you said, burying your face in your hands. "That doesn't sound like me at all."

"It's not. Well, not anymore. You had an edge to you when you first arrived. Most do. Survivin' out there does that to you," he said, taking his first sip of whiskey.

You sat in silence for another minute, contemplating asking him what he knew about your life before you met him, but ultimately deciding against it. Maybe another time.

"Where's the bathroom?" you asked him, and he pointed down a small hallway near the bar. You thanked him, his eyes trailing after you as you made your way through the crowds, only dropping his gaze once you were no longer in view. It was a strange thing, recounting stories for you like that. At first, the memories made him smile, but once he saw the lost look on your face he felt the sadness creep back up, settling deep in his chest, and he wondered if he would ever get you back.

You knew you were in the bathroom too long. You knew he would likely be worried, but you just couldn't stop staring at your reflection in the mirror after you washed your hands. Who was this person staring back at you? She looked older and weathered and tired. Your fingertip gently prodded at the bags under your eyes and then a small scar on your chin. What happened to you out there to make you the person Joel was describing? What did you have to do to survive? And did you really want to know the answer?

The door swung open, startling you as three girls around your age entered the bathroom. Their giggles stopped when they saw you and you watched them exchange glances in the mirror before a pretty girl with long, blonde hair greeted you by name. Turning around, you gave her a smile, hoping they would go about their business so you could slip out of there, but of course the pretty girl wanted to talk.

"We heard you had an accident, are you okay?" she asked, and she sounded sincere, but something about her smile made you think twice.

"Yeah, got a few stitches but it should be fine," you said, your eyes flicking to the other two girls, giving them each a smile. They looked at each other and smirked before heading towards the bathroom stalls, leaving you with just the blonde.

"So, is it true? Did you really lose your memory?" she asked, her voice low as if it were a secret, and finally you were able to pick up the vibe. You had been to high school before the outbreak. You had encounters with these types of girls before. Friendly to your face, vicious behind your back.

"Uh, yeah," you admitted, and she gasped as if she felt bad, but you saw the way her eyes lit up.

"So you don't remember, like, anything?"

"Well, I remember before everything went to hell," you told her, "but I don't remember this place, no."

"Oh, wow," she said, and you heard the toilets flush before the other two girls exited the stalls, grinning conspiratorially at the blonde. "So you don't know anybody here?"

You shook your head, feeling uncomfortable with the line of questioning at this point. What was she really getting at?

"That must mean you don't remember Joel, right?" one of the girls at the sink piped up. You looked at her briefly over your shoulder and shook your head, turning back to the blonde but not before you caught the look in her eye.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said, giving you a pout. "Does that mean you aren't together anymore, or-"

Suddenly, the door swung open and Ellie stormed in. Her hard gaze drifted around to the three girls and she gave them a look of disgust.

"Scram, vultures," she told them, and the blonde made a face at her before flipping her hair over her shoulder and heading to one of the stalls. Ellie called your name and you scurried over, allowing her to lead you back out into the dining room but not before she gave the other two girls a few choice words.

"Don't talk to them, they're nasty," she told you as you weaved your way through the crowd. Joel's eyes instantly found you once you were in view and you saw him straighten up in his chair.

"You okay?" he asked, and you could see the genuine concern in his face as you sat down. You were about to answer when Ellie plopped down on the other side of him and spoke first.

"Angie and her little sidekicks cornered her in there," she explained, rolling her eyes. "Already sniffing around for scraps."

"What do you mean?" you asked her, but just then Seth arrived with your meals and you never got an answer.

"Stew again?" Ellie asked, scrunching up her nose.

"It's good," Joel told her before taking a bite. You looked down at the bowl and you were inclined to agree with Ellie, but you swallowed the food down anyway, just grateful for something to eat after such a long day.

"Aren't you going to eat?" you asked her, noticing she hadn't ordered anything and instead was busy sketching in a journal.

"Nah, I'm going to Dina's later, I'll eat there," she explained without looking up.

"Who's Dina?"

"Oh, my girlfriend," Ellie explained, glancing up at you briefly. "Sorry. I still can't get used to this. It's so weird you don't remember."

"Don't be out too late. You got school tomorrow," Joel reminded her. Even though he wasn't Ellie's father, he seemed to have quite the knack for being a dad.

"Yes, sir," she said sarcastically, giving him a weak, two-fingered salute before hunching back over her journal. You heard some familiar giggles coming from somewhere behind you, and when you turned to look, you locked eyes with the blonde girl from the bathroom - Angie - who was holding some drink in her hand, her two friends flanking her sides as she strolled past your table. Her eyes drifted briefly to Joel before she passed by, then turned her attention to her friends, disappearing into the crowd.

"Who is that?" you asked, realizing you never really got much of an explanation. Joel and Ellie responded at the same time.

"Nobody."

"Joel's ex."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as Joel glared at Ellie.

"What? She woulda found out eventually," Ellie protested.

"She ain't even an ex," he said, turning to you now. "Just a mistake I made one time before you even got here," he insisted. The tone in his voice made it sound like he was trying to reassure you there was nothing to worry about, but of course, the information didn't phase you.

"Okay," you replied with a shrug. He examined your blank stare for a moment, searching for a glimmer of recognition. The disappointment in his expression every time something like this happened was becoming too much to bear, so you dragged your eyes off him to glance around the crowded room once again. You found Tommy leaning against the bar and you stood up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"I need to ask Tommy something," you said. "I'll be right back."

His eyes followed you as you pushed your way towards the bar, his heart feeling like it was going to break. He wasn't exactly looking for you to have an overly jealous reaction to hearing about another woman from his past, but your casual indifference hurt more than he expected. When you first found out about Angie, you insisted you weren't jealous but the way you sneered at her going forward, combined with giving him the best sex of his life later that night told him a different story.

"You think she'll ever get her memory back?" Ellie asked, still focusing on her drawing. Joel sighed and dragged his hands down his face.

"I don't know, kid."

"What'd you need to talk to Tommy for?" Joel asked once you both arrived back to his - your - home. You had wandered into the kitchen, Joel hot on your trail.

"Oh, I just had a question about something I saw when we were out there today," you explained, and he raised an eyebrow for you to continue. "There were dead bodies when I came to. They looked all decayed and... subhuman. Now that you told me about the infection, I wanted to ask."

Joel watched you open and close cupboards until you found the glasses, then picked one out to fill with water.

"So you ran into some runners," he said, and you nodded. "Did he happen to mention how you hit your head?"

Your hand froze, your glass halfway to your lips as you considered his question.

"Actually, no, he didn't," you said, setting down the glass and looking up at him.

"Yeah, he didn't really tell me, either," he replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When he told me you hit your head and you were havin' trouble remeberin' things, I just came runnin'."

Guilt washed over you yet again as you thought about Joel being told the news and how panicked he must have been. He practically ripped all the exam room doors off their hinges to find you, only to be met with a stranger when he finally did.

"Well, I can ask him tomorrow," you finally said, putting your glass in the sink to avoid looking at him.

"Yeah," he replied, trailing off a bit. He was still lost in thought, trying to remember Tommy's exact words when you walked past him towards the stairs.

"You're tired?"

"Well, it's been a long day," you told him, pausing on a stair to look back down at him.

"Right, 'course," he said, shaking his head and following you up. When you got to the doorway of his bedroom you paused, looking up at him. It seemed like he was struggling to say something, his mind working hard to find the words, but instead he just gazed down at you, brown eyes all wide and soft.

"Don't suppose anythin's comin' back to you yet?" he finally asked, and you hated seeing that look. That same hopeful look you kept seeing right before you opened your mouth and crushed him. This was hard for him, you knew that, but the way he kept looking at you was making things so much worse. The pressure you felt to become this person he was expecting you to be was overwhelming. You opted to drop your gaze to the floor and slowly shake your head.

"That's okay," he said, and you dragged your eyes back up to him. "Maybe tomorrow."

You gave him a small smile. "Yeah, maybe."

He sighed and glanced at the door to the spare room.

"You need anythin', I'm right next door," he said, hitching his thumb to the side and giving you a lopsided grin, but you could still see it in his eyes. The disappointment. The sadness. The yearning. And it was making you feel sick.

Just as he turned to head towards the spare room, you spoke. "Joel?"

And he eagerly swiveled back around.

"I'm gonna try really hard to remember," you said earnestly, looking deep into his eyes.

"I know," he replied with a sad smile. He gave you one more look before heading into the spare room and softly closing the door behind him.

Joel slept like shit.

No surprise there, really. He hadn't slept without you in years. He had hoped the whiskey would have helped, but he was wrong. His mind was racing as he tossed and turned, and by morning he had foolishly convinced himself that you would be back to normal after a good night's rest. He got up early and made coffee for the two of you, like he always did, then tended to the fire in the living room. The nights and early mornings were frigid, but the days were warm. The first sign that fall was approaching fast. He was just putting the poker back when he heard the bedroom door creak open upstairs and his heart jumped into his throat excitedly, but when you descended the stairs and locked eyes with him, he knew nothing had changed. He didn't even bother to ask. You didn't look at him the same way you used to. You used to smile and gravitate towards him, your hands always seeking out his, your eyes playful and loving, but now you looked at him like he was a complete stranger. Devoid of all affection, the only thing that remained was a forced politeness.

You said good morning and headed into the kitchen and Joel wondered how long it would take for you to come around. Less than a day ago, you looked at him in fear, but now you seemed at least comfortable in his presence. That had to count for something.

He must have looked like shit because when he joined you in the kitchen, you eyed him up and down curiously.

"Have you been up for a while?"

He shook his head and picked up his mug, taking a sip and hoping the caffeine would bring him back to life.

"How's your head?" he asked.

"Not great," you admitted, pouring your own cup of coffee. "It really hurts. I think whatever meds the doctor gave me yesterday wore off."

Without even thinking, Joel quickly closed the distance between you to examine your injury. You startled a bit when he came up behind you and lifted your hair, but for his benefit, you tamped down your reaction. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he gripped the nape of your neck to angle your head downwards in order to get a better look. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you focused on his fingertips pressing tenderly into your skin. You heard him murmur to himself, the sound coming from deep within his chest, and you realized just how close he really was. Aside from pulling you out of the way so the kids playing tag wouldn't knock you down, it was the first time he had really touched you, and he was so much softer than you expected.

"Don't think it's infected but let's go see the doc, just to be sure," he said, his hand still on your neck, his other hand pushing your hair away.

"Okay," you said quietly, finally allowing yourself to take in a shaky breath as you waited for him to release you.

As if he realized what he was doing, he let your hair fall back into place and let go of your neck, his fingertips lightly trailing down your spine before falling to his side, making you shiver and step away.

"Sorry," he said. "Should've asked to look first."

"It's fine," you told him, absentmindedly rubbing the spot on your neck his fingers just touched.

As you walked side by side to the infirmary, his stony expression slid back into place. Gone was the softness you witnessed in his home. His hardened gaze drifted around the street, then to the watch towers, taking everything in. Studying. Calculating. And that was when you realized there were two Joel Millers: the one who the rest of the town viewed as gruff and callous, and the one you saw in the kitchen that morning, soft and gentle.

You wondered how many people got to see the latter version.

Nick examined you again in the same room as before, but this time, Joel was there watching his every move like a hawk. You could practically see the tension radiating off Nick's shoulders as he moved around the room. He examined your cut carefully, Joel's eyes never once leaving his hands, confirming that it was not infected before parceling out ten little white tablets of extra strength Tylenol into a small baggie and advising you to use them sparingly as inventory was low.

"That's it?" Joel asked incredulously.

"You know how it is, Joel," Nick said, but you heard his voice waver when Joel stood up from his chair. "Meds are hard to come by, we gotta be smart-"

"She hit her goddamn head so fuckin' hard she's lucky she remembers her own name and you're givin' her Tylenol?" he seethed, and you could see his neck growing flush with anger again.

"Joel, calm down, it's fine," you said, sliding off the table. Turning to Nick, you were about to voice your thanks when Joel cut you off.

"It ain't fine. What's it gotta take to get somethin' that actually works?" he huffed, taking a step forward and making Nick shift his weight nervously. "She gotta be missin' an arm? Maybe if she hit her head hard enough to forget what fuckin' planet she's on?"

"Joel, that's enough!" you snapped with a frown, and much to Nick's relief, Joel instantly backed off. He turned and paced around the small room, his hand rubbing over his mouth as he tried to calm down.

"What about my memory? Is it a bad sign I haven't remembered anything yet?" you asked Nick, and Joel paused somewhere behind you to listen to his answer.

"Well, the brain is a tricky thing," he began, his eyes darting over your shoulder briefly. "It could be weeks, could be months. Without any imaging, I wouldn't be able to tell you much more than that." You nodded and swallowed nervously before asking your next question.

"Or never, right?"

Nick took a deep breath and looked at Joel over your shoulder again before responding.

"It's possible."

You heard Joel's boots squeak against the linoleum floor and without even looking, you knew he was anxiously pacing around again.

"Alright, thank you. We'll get out of your hair now," you said, turning to corral Joel towards the door.

"Regardless, I'd like to see you again in a few days so I can take a look at those stitches," Nick said, and you agreed while pushing a muttering Joel back out into the hallway.

"I'll get you better meds," he said as you both walked out of the infirmary. "I got patrol tomorrow mornin', but I can go out after. There's a small cluster of houses we never did a full sweep on. Maybe-"

"The Tylenol is fine, don't go through the trouble. You could get hurt," you said, shoving the baggie of pills into your pocket.

"Tylenol ain't gonna do shit. I don't want you bein' in pain if there's somethin' we can do about it."

You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to temporarily relieve the ache in your head until you could get home and take one of the pills. You gave Joel a sideways glance, studying him as you walked together. He was brash and rude and aggressive, but you were learning that side of him came out when he was being protective over the ones he loved.

Or when he was trying to hide who he really was.

"So, everyone pitches in around here, right?" you asked, trying to change the subject. "You do patrol. What do I do?"

You paused at a crossroads, trying to remember which way to go, when Joel's hand on your elbow guided you in the right direction.

"You work patrol, too, but you ain't doin' that anymore," he said, letting go of your elbow after holding on for a moment too long.

"Well, obviously. I don't even know how to ride a horse," you said with a snort. "So I guess I need to find a new job, right? Who do I talk to?"

"Why don't you slow down a minute?" Joel said with a chuckle. "Let that pretty little head of yours heal up before you go lookin' for work."

You weren't going to say anything about his comment. Although it took you off guard, you realized he had habits that were going to be hard to ignore and you didn't expect that to happen overnight, but he seemed to realize what he said on his own and awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"It's okay. I know this is difficult for you," you said, shooting him a sympathetic glance as you climbed his porch steps. He swung open the door and followed you inside, where you made a beeline for a glass of water so you could take one of the pills.

"We got a lotta history, you and me. It's hard to start over," he said as he watched you toss back the Tylenol with a wince. You examined his face closely and pulled out one of the stools to sit down. You leaned forward, forearms resting on the cool countertop before replying.

"Tell me a story."

He raised an eyebrow at you but couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up a bit.

"What kinda story?"

"A story about us. You just said we have a lot of history together. Let's hear some of it," you replied with an encouraging smile.

"You sure? Thought you'd wanna go lay down," he said, but he eagerly pulled up a stool across from you.

"I think I can handle one little story," you told him, then watched as he stared down at his hands on top of the counter, deep in thought. When he thought of one, a slow smile spread across his face and his dark brown eyes flicked up to meet yours and you saw that softer side of him again.

"Alright," he said, settling back a bit. "So I told'ya last night how we met."

You cringed, remembering the story of a much bolder and seductive version of yourself, and nodded.

"Well, after that night we started seein' each other for a few weeks. It was just casual, nothin' serious," he said, looking down at his hands again. "I convinced you to sneak around so no one would catch on, and you grew tired of that. Rightfully so. I was bein' an asshole."

You watched him pull at a loose thread on the cuff of his flannel shirt, his eyes still cast down and you were beginning to realize it was due to shame.

"So anyway. One day you came over to, y'know..." he said, and you felt the heat in your cheeks again. "And you confronted me about it head on. Demanded to know why I wanted to keep you a secret. Thought I was ashamed of you - which I wasn't," he said quickly, his eyes finally meeting yours again. "But I had been through a lot of shit and I just didn't think I could give myself to someone like that again."

"What kind of shit?" you asked quietly, but he just lightly shook his head.

"One story at a time," he told you with a sad smile. You chewed on your lower lip as you waited for him to continue, his focus back on the loose string while he collected his thoughts.

"So I explained I had a hard time lettin' people in, that I wasn't capable of carin' 'bout anyone like that anymore, and you said to me, 'I know who you are, Joel Miller. Don't give me that bullshit, you're just scared.'"

He stared into your eyes, letting what he said land and hoping to see a flicker of the woman who spoke those words, but you just continued to look at him, waiting for him to finish the story like it was about somebody else entirely.

"Well, you were right, obviously. You always are," he continued with a smirk. "It knocked me on my ass. And I didn't know what was more difficult to believe: that you knew me better than I knew myself, or someone like you wanted anythin' to do with me in the first place."

You smiled and dropped your gaze to the counter, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, but so far, these stories don't sound like me at all," you admitted.

He took a deep breath and finally stopped fidgeting with his sleeve.

"A lot's happened in ten years. Stuff that changes people. But I don't care what version of you's here, I love all of you."

You kept your eyes glued to his hands. You wished you could say it back. You knew he wanted to hear it. Maybe one day.

He tapped his finger on the counter, pulling your attention up so you were forced to look him in the eye.

"You fought for me that night, now I'm gonna fight for you, okay?" he said, eyebrows raised as he waited for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded sheepishly, his shoulders relaxed.

"So you're saying I fell in love with you because you were an asshole?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked. Joel laughed heartily and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nah, you didn't love me then," he said, still smiling.

"So how did I fall in love with you?" you asked, and his tongue clicked against his teeth.

"You're gonna have to wait to find out," he replied with a wink.

It wasn't his fault, but the rest of the day you could feel Joel looking at you. He was examining you, waiting to see the woman he fell in love with, and the pressure was beginning to be too much, so you made up an excuse to go lay down in his bedroom. He had mentioned he had patrol in the morning. Maybe some time away from him would help you relax.

You stared up at the white ceiling. The distant sound of children laughing outside through the closed window and then the door to the garage swinging open and shut acted as a soundtrack to your overactive thoughts. You almost had to laugh. It felt like your mind was constantly working, churning up information and digesting it only to always come up empty.

Absolutely nothing seemed familiar. Nothing about this place or these people felt like home.

You wished so badly you could remember something. Anything to make you feel like you belonged there. One little shred of hope was all you were looking for.

And then you remembered the journal.

Sitting up in bed, you tucked your legs underneath you and reached over for the black book. You fingers hesitated for a moment on the cover. It felt like an invasion of privacy, but how could that be when it was your own?

Taking a deep breath, you flipped open the journal and began at the beginning.

Right away, you could tell you wrote the entries. There was no doubt in your mind. Aside from your handwriting, your typical disorganization shone through like a beacon on every page. You occasionally remembered to notate in the margin the date, or your best guess at the date, but more often than not you were left with very little context for each small paragraph you read.

You were disappointed to realize the journal seemed to begin after you had met Joel. A big part of you was very eager to learn more about the person you were before finding Jackson, but it seemed as though you would have to depend on others to tell you stories you hopefully had relayed to them in the past.

The first page looked to be a list of items you had jotted down that didn't make much sense, but maybe when you first found the notebook, you hadn't intended to use it as a journal.

Socks, colored pencils, sunflower seeds, cards.

Flipping the page, you skimmed a short paragraph about a cabin you stumbled upon when on patrol. Again, it was more notes than anything of any substance. A description of approximately where it was in relation to Jackson along with a note to 'mention it at the next town hall meeting'.

Finally something interesting on the next page, you read a short paragraph about someone named Maria having a baby girl, and you frowned when you read the line Joel handled it better than I expected.

Continuing on, you read an entry about Christmas: Joel found me the softest sweater, it almost felt brand new. I really don't know how he managed to find it and I described the house I grew up in to Ellie and she drew it perfectly, I can't believe how talented she is.

One paragraph in particular grabbed your attention. It was about two people, and based on the context, it sounded like you were close friends. For the first time since we got here, I had the same day off as Ben and Lisa. We went fishing together and brought a lunch. It felt just like old times. As weird as it sounds, sometimes I miss being out there with them. We made a good team.

Maybe this Ben and Lisa would be able to answer some questions you had about yourself. Based on what you just read, it sounded like they knew you before Jackson.

There was a lot more to read, but the next page stopped you dead in your tracks. Your heart began to beat faster as you stared at the four words. Just one sentence, no explanation. A shiver slowly trickled down your spine as you sat there, unmoving, as your vision narrowed on the page: Joel lied to me.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[thefantasyden]

Stray Kids as Doms + their favourite Sub types with bonus fake texts (Hyung Line)

SHAMEFULLY SELF INDULGENT! High raunch, bdsm themes. Some of the terms for the subs are not official terminology, just accurately descriptive. It's a slut fest over here!

Chris: Daddy/Brat Tamer + The Obedient Service Brat

Chris is a Caregiver first and foremost. He is the soft and strict kind of Daddy who gives in to your every wish if you ask him nicely but still expects you to follow his rules. BOY does he love a Brat, though! More specifically, he loves that you know exactly when he needs you to be a Brat. Chris is someone who struggles with letting go of his tension, so you have learnt very quickly that some snippy remarks and tantrums are an easy way to push him into Tamer mode so that he can get the sweet release of roughing you up. He's not a sadist necessarily, but he loves gripping you hard and pushing you around, manhandling you into submission. The two of you have such delicious chemistry, and he trusts you so much that he's free to let go when he's with you. His favourite scenario is when he's had a week that was out of control and he's greeted by you calling him things like Dude, Bro or Mate when he walks through the door instead of his usual pet names, you actively choosing to roll your eyes when he asks you for something and egging him on with phrases like "Yeah? Why should I?" and the classic "Make me." You're a Service Brat, pushing exactly how he needs and wants and being rewarded with his hands bruising your hips as he fucks you dumb. He gets to feel in control and have the satisfaction of "breaking" you down into his usual obedient sub, and you get to be completely free of any thought unless he gives you a command. It's truly a win-win scenario in his eyes.

Lee Know: Brat Enabler + The Sadomasochistic Kitten

Minho is a Brat Enabler THROUGH AND THROUGH. He wants you to get yourself in trouble. He WANTS you to break his rules and give him reasons to torture you with funishments. Nothing makes his eyes sparkle quite like you telling him no when he tells you to do something. He always gives you a warning before he goes into funishment mode, usually along the lines of "Are you sure you wanna play this game?" You're his favourite pest and he loves the ridiculous things you do like knocking things out of his hand and swatting at him. Minho also loves a sadomasochist because, well, he loves pain. Giving, receiving, he loves it all. He's the kind of Dom who would demand that you bite him harder or dig your nails deeper into his back and he also wouldn't shy away from a little struggle if you'd both pre negotiated it. He's someone who has specific phrases he will use to gauge what you're feeling like and will adjust the way he ruins you depending on your answer. The one thing I will say is Minho doesn't take disrespect. Be bratty all you want but the second you cross in to being disrespectful, it's gone from fun pleasure filled spankings to him making you write "I will not be rude to my Owner" 200 times. He knows you never intend to be disrespectful, but he is quick to ensure you learn your lesson. He always holds you close afterwards, though! He knows being punished makes you feel really fragile, and he will shower you with love and praise to make sure you know he could never stay upset with you.

Changbin: Service Dominant + The Spoilt Bunny

Changbin is a soft Daddy/Service Dom, argue with the wall! I don't mean soft in action, though. I mean soft as in, he gives you everything you could ever want. You so much as mention something in passing, he's buying it for you. Changbin loves with acts of service, and his favourite act of service is spoiling you rotten. I don't know where my Bunny x Binnie agenda started, but I'm committed to it now. I genuinely think he'd adore having a sub that was always rearing to go. After recording, after a workout, first thing in the morning. He loves intimacy so he loves that his spoilt fuck bunny is always climbing in has lap and begging for his cock. He's a beautiful mix of slow deep fucking and hands pinned to your back in doggy fucking and he probably doesn't care when or where, he just wants to be touching you. Binnie LIVES to be the reason people feel good. God, he just wants to have you writhing in pleasure for him and he will do anything his baby wants if it's gonna get them there. He does know how to be strict when he has to, but he just loves to let you get away with being a little tease because you're so cute to him and he loves your little pout when you want something.

Hyunjin: Rigger/Sir + Rope Bunny

Hyunjin is a Rigger for sure, and outside of rigging, I could see him as a Sir. He's not quite for being called Daddy, but he still likes having a title. He may also be stiffling groans every time you playfully say "Yes, Sir" in front of other people. He has probably always had an interest in Shibari, but meeting his Rope Bunny was life changing for him. He'd drag you to classes and spend hours practising what he learned through his Shibari Study subscription. It's not even sexual at first. Not until he hears the dreamiest moan leave your lips when he's tying your arms in a diamond weave binder. That's the first time he fucks you when you're tied, your faced pressing awkwardly against the floor. You're so beautifully lost in bliss, and you're so easy for him to manouver and manipulate to his wishes when you're all floaty. He has so many albums full of artsy pictures from rope scenes, and he has a stunning array of different colours and types of rope. He loves to pick the material of the rope based on the vibe he wants to capture (he has a soft spot for the aesthetic cotton ropes, but he knows you love the scratchy bite of jute) He's always incredible with the aftercare too, running you a warm bath and rubbing lotion all over your body once you're out. You're his Bunny, but above all, you're his Angel, and he will always treat you accordingly.

[thegnomelord]

Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.

I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.

Once again good soup!

Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Hug from behind

CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.

Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.

Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.

You're not even sure when or why it had started.

It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.

None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.

Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.

Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.

You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.

Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.

You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"

You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.

"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.

Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.

It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.

Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.

It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).

Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.

"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.

"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.

"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.

Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.

You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.

He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.

You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.

"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.

And, Hell, Graves gets it now.

He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.

And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.

"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.

"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.

"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"

You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.

"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.

"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."

"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."

He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.

"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.

The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"

[strangersteddierthings]

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Alright y'all. We had the hurt, let's get some comfort started.

-

Steve leans against his door, expecting Eddie to follow him upstairs to continue their argument because Eddie's never been one to back down from an argument as far as Steve can tell, so he's using his weight to keep the door shut. It takes about five minutes of just leaning against the door before he hears a few light knocks on the door. He pretends he didn't hear them and soon starts to hear Eddie monologue-ing on the other side. He thinks he hears a 'sorry' and an 'I fucked up' but he doesn't really tune in until Eddie says something about cancelling Hellfire.

Spinning quickly, he yanks the door open and says, "You better not fucking cancel!"

"What? Don't you, like, want me out of your house?" Eddie looks startled and sounds confused.

"What I want is for the kids to get to play Dungeons and Dorks for an afternoon, just getting to be kids and fight against monsters that can't actually kill them," Steve says as he goes to put his hands on his hips (a move that Robin calls his Bitch Stance) but realizes he can't while still holding a book, so instead he folds his arms across his chest, cradling the book to his body.

He waits for Eddie to call him out for saying dorks instead of dragons, but Eddie just blinks at him, quiet for a moment before he says, "Oh. Uh, okay then. I'll just, uhh, I'll be back closer to noon, then. For the game."

"Don't you have prep to do?" Steve knows he's trying to pick a fight now but he's angry, and sad, and hurt underneath it all. Also, he doesn't understand the change in Eddie suddenly. Ten-ish minutes ago Eddie had shouted back I wasn’t exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even! Where is that anger now?

"No. Not, uh, not really," Eddie says, avoiding meeting Steve's gaze, face turning a very light pink. "I was- I mean, yes, there was prep, but I did a majority of that already and what's left will take maybe three minutes so..."

Steve's confused now, still trying to cling to his anger. "But you called and asked if it was okay to come early specifically for that reason."

Eddie doesn't respond right away. He turns around to walk to the wall opposite Steve's door and thump his forehead against it. Steve is perplexed by the behavior (but he's been perplexed by Eddie since finding him at Reefer Rick's) so he just watches in silence as Eddie heaves a sigh and turns around to slump against the wall, facing Steve once again. He runs a hand through his hair, then drags that hand back forward and down his face. "Yeah. I did do that."

"So, what, you lied? Why?"

"I just wanted to hang out," Eddie whispers, like it almost hurts him to say out loud, which is such a weird thing to hear because it makes Eddie seem small in a way Steve's never seen him. Even during spring break Eddie was never small or quiet; his fear manifested as shouting, for fuck's sake. It chips away at the last of Steve's anger. He's long past the days of kicking someone when they're down.

"You... wanted to hang out," Steve repeats before heaving a sigh of his own, long-suffering man that he is. Maybe it is time to bury the hatchet and actual deal with this. If nothing else, it'll result in Steve being less defensive around Eddie when everyone hangs out, like for movie night or BBQs. Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to so he says, "Listen, I think we've got some shit to hash out, or whatever, so that should probably be done or, like, things are going to be weird when we all hang out, but I can't do that right now, man. So, stay or go, just make that game happen at noon. I'm going to stay up here."

Eddie nods, weirdly sullen and quiet again, as he says, "Yeah. Umm, maybe after the game? If you're feeling up to it."

"Sure. After."

Eddie raps his knuckles against the wall behind him twice before pushing off and heading back towards the stairs. He pauses to look over his shoulder and say, "If you wanna watch, or listen in, or something, I don't think anyone will mind." And then he's heading down the stairs.

Retreating back to his room, Steve tosses the book onto his bed before flopping face first next to it. He groans into his comforter before reaching for the book. He props himself up on his elbows and stares down at the cover before opening it to see Christopher's handwriting on the inside cover.

It's been years since he thought about Christopher and even longer since he's laid eyes on the books. He was so sure his mom had just gotten rid of them. All this time, they'd been right where he left them, shoved just far enough back to be out of sight on the shelf. His last link to Christopher.

That's not true, Steve scolds himself. His cousins, Amber and Robert, are still alive and in Washington. His grandparents still live on that farm in Michigan. Steve just hasn't seen them since the funeral.

He hadn't gone back to the farm the summer after freshman year, or any year since. His parents thought he was old enough to stay home for a whole month in the summer alone now, instead of paying to ship him off to his grandparents. Steve's old enough now to know that was why he'd spent a month every year out on the farm; so his parents could go off on longer work trips. Once they'd decided Steve was old enough to stay alone for the summer, that quickly reached other seasons and by the time Steve was a junior, the were gone more than they were home.

He doesn't even remember when he last spoke to them in person. He thinks the last phone call was right after Starcourt. It was just to make sure Steve got to job hunting, since his place of employment had burned down and the bills wouldn't pay themselves. Which is true. He doesn't have to pay rent, but all the utilities are in his name now.

Jesus, he doesn't want to be thinking about them.

He goes back to the book, flipping through the pages absently. Halfway through the book he finds a couple folded pieces of paper tucked close to the spine. He doesn't have to open them to know exactly what they are.

It's the character sheets he'd made.

He closes the book back atop them and rolls over to face his ceiling. He wants to call Robin, but the phones are downstairs and he doesn't want to go down there just yet. He also kinda wants to cry. To get rid of all these emotions about Christopher, and Freshman First Day, and Eddie.

Fucking Eddie. Who haunts Steve's thoughts more than he'd like because despite the grudge Steve has been holding, Eddie has been fun to be around and so good with the kids, especially Dustin. Fuck, after having watched Dustin break down when they thought he was dead- but he'd had a pulse. It was weak but it was there.

After Eddie'd been cleared of the charges and the months rolled on into summer, they'd spent lots of time together as a group. Steve will admit he tried to avoid Eddie as best he could (he knows he's petty, okay) but could still see how he blended smoothly into their group.

If this Eddie had been the one he met on Freshman First Day, instead of the dick that mocked him, they might very well be friends now.

That's the crux of it all, Steve thinks. That he wouldn't mind being friends with Eddie if not for that bottled up grudge he'd been holding onto. He can't bring himself to let it go and Steve's not even sure why. Thoughts and feelings aren't something Steve processes quickly, and it usually helps to talk it out with Robin. She lets him stumble through his thoughts, and doesn't mock him for messing up, or mixing up, words.

Goddammit, if he's really going to try talking this out with Eddie, he's going to have be open and honest and maybe a little vulnerable and he doesn't know if he can do that.

But he'll have to. For better or worse, he can't just keep Eddie at arms length. They need to either come to the conclusion that they can be friends, or not, and then go from there. (Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to.)

In the end, Steve's not sure how long he just stares up at the ceiling but a sudden shout breaks him from his trance. It sounded like Dustin. Hellfire must have started.

Steve leaves his room to go lean against the half wall of the hallway, so he could look down to the dining table where everyone has gathered to play. No one notices him, so Steve sinks to the floor and turns, so he can lean against the wall, closes his eyes, and listens in.

The room below is filled with noise. Shouts of excitement, and groans of pain, and sighs of relief. Dustin yells at his dice when it rolls a Nat 1. Mike curses up a storm over a barely missed perception check that makes the party fall into a surprise round. He hears Lucas whoop happily and then what sounds like him taking several victory laps around the table.

He used to be an imaginative kid, able to easily conjure castle, and knights, and dragons in his mind's eye. Listening to Eddie describe a new location, or NPC, or monster makes it easy to bring that part of himself back. Eddie is descriptive and uses so many voices that Steve would be embarrassed to even attempt. But because Eddie is being descriptive, so is everyone else at the table. Erica has adopted an accent of some sort for her character. Dustin and Will go into great detail describing what they want their character to do. The older members of Hellfire do the same, and one of them is using an Irish accent that if he used while talking to Steve, he'd would think it was his first language.

Steve's not sure how long he sat there, long enough that they've taken a snack break and are back at it again, before he decides he might as well watch, too. He gets up and goes downstairs. There's a pause at the table when he wonders in and plops down on the couch. He makes eye contact with Eddie and offers a small half smile. Eddie grins back, and starts back into the game, pulling everyone's focus.

Watching is interesting. He gets to see the Party jab at each other, or lean over and whisper about something. It's nice, to see them being kids. Having fun.

They end around five and Steve is surprised at how quickly five hours had passed.

"So, Steve, how was watching your first DnD game?" Dustin asks, pausing on his way to the door to do so.

Steve considers teasing him, but he goes for honesty instead. "Pretty interesting. It might not be my last time observing. I gotta see you get killed sometime, right?"

"Rude, Steve. Rude," Dustin is grinning though.

"Tell your mom hi for me, and let me know when she's making pork chops again. I'd like to crash that dinner."

Dustin rolls his eyes and shakes his head but he hugs Steve before leaving. Between all the older Hellfire members, they all have rides home that aren't Steve or Eddie.

Speaking of the latter, he's slowly packing things away at the table. Clearly killing time so it won't look like he's intentionally staying after everyone's gone.

Soon, the house is empty again.

"So, I'm not sure... how to start this conversation," Eddie admits to the silence. He's still at the table, standing behind where he was previously sitting, fiddling with a die. "But, I'm sorry. For that day. You were right, you know? When you said I was lashing out at you first."

"Thanks. For the apology," Steve stands from the couch and moves to the table, toying with the tablecloth instead of looking at Eddie. "I, uhh, I'm not sure where to go from here, either? I spent such a long time angry at you. For pointing out all the things I'm bad at in front of everyone there. For making me feel like an idiot."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Now Steve looks up at Eddie. "You say that, but like, why? Are you sorry because what you did was shitty, or because you want to be my friend now?"

Eddie blinks, apparently thrown by Steve's question.

"Because, like, you were pretty dismissive of Lucas before Spring Break and he helped save your life. So, it's like, are you okay with being shitty if the people you hurt aren't people you like? 'Cause I used to be that way, and I'm not going to be friends with someone who is."

"Yeah, no, you're right," Eddie nods. "For all that I scream about conformity, and how stupid it is, I've been rather quick to dismiss everyone outside my own... group. I held rather close to that nerds verses jocks crap for too long. Lucas is a jock, but he's also a nerd, and so very loyal to his friends. And you- you're really fucking awesome."

"I am," Steve interrupts with a cheeky grin.

"Ass. But yeah, you're pretty awesome, and I've been feeling all fucked up today because, we could have been friends, couldn't we? In high school. If I'd just let you take the damn flier and kept my mouth shut."

"Hey, that's not all on you," Steve says. "I would have still joined the basketball team, and the swim team. And, like, I was so desperate for any shred of attention from my parents that I would never have picked Hellfire over sports meetups. I could have joined and still ended up a bully by sophomore year."

"Well, I didn't help-"

"I made those choices, Eddie. And it doesn't matter because it's in the past. So, like, we can just move forward. Start over, or whatever."

Eddie looks him up and down before giving one sharp nod, then breaking out into a wide grin, sticking his hand out for a handshake. "Hi. Name's Eddie Munson."

Steve laughs, reaching out to shake Eddie's hand. "Steve Harrington."

"Great, pleasure to meet you. Do you wanna hang out? We can play 20 questions. Get to know each other."

"Sure," Steve chuckles, extracting his hand from Eddie's. "Let me order some pizza first."

First time hanging out with Eddie alone. Guess they'll find out if they can be friends after all.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Spooktober Prompts Masterlist 2023

"They are calling us…" "Don't listen to them. Do you hear me? Don't listen to a word they promise you!"

The cameras show five people enter an elevator, but only four of them leaving it. Those four never remembered a fifth passenger.

"Aww, are you so afraid of the dark that you need me to hold your hand?" "I'm not holding your hand." "Then whose..."

At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

The camera she bought at a flea market already has photos on it. Since the people are wearing clothes from centuries ago, they believe them to be from a play. But they soon realize that those photos and events were real.

A child actress turned cult leader feels her power slipping and she needs to gain control over her following again.

When they started building the new school, they had expected to maybe find unexploded WWII bombs, but what they found instead was nothing they could have expected.

She heard footsteps behind her coming closer, but when she turned around, holding her breath, she could only see the dark and empty alley.

"Why did you choose the cemetary as our meeting place for tonight?" "Because only the dead can keep our secrets."

Going to your own funeral and see who would cry - it sounded almost fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that they could hear and see everything, but could not make a sound to stop them from closing up the grave around them.

A medium without a voice of her own, can only speak when a ghost speaks through her.

They had always felt that shadows seemed to beckon to them. But this time, when the shadows beckoned, they wore a sinister grin. (Submitted by: tumblebumblebee-63)

"I'm not haunting a filthy public bathroom, I'm a ghost with class."

A fun survival game TV show on a remote island becomes a reality when one contestant after the other turns up brutally killed. Right in front of hundreds of cameras and millions of watchful eyes.

Waking up to a child that you've never seen before, but that everyone assures you is your own that you've raised for years, is terrifying.

"Did you see that?" "Did I see what?" "That man... he touched the leaves and they immediately blackened and fell off. Please, let us go back before he sees us!" "Too late." The man in the dark cloak suddenly stood right in front of them and slowly reached out his hands to them.

What started as a fun midnight activity suddenly turned into one of them missing and the others running for their lives, trying to escape freaking zombies.

He always dreamed about being in a kdrama. He didn't imagine it to have a horror side plotline that feels way too real.

They said that when you die, you return to earth as your one true self. Why then, when he opened his eyes after being killed, were his teeth long and he hungered for blood? (Submitted by: ouilah)

She didn't think it would come to this point. She felt the cold stone of the gravestone in her back and before her the red glowing eyes of the creature crept slowly closer.

There are perks of being a ghost. Walking through walls was fun. Or haunting annoying people. But nothing was quite as nice as being able to just fade out of a conversation that you didn’t want to be a part of.

"I dare you! Come on, stop being a coward. There is no such thing as ghosts."

Someone wakes up to a text saying 'It's your lucky day!' and it turns out to be the worst day ever.

A family of vampires that lives unidentified in human communities, becomes paranoid and starts to believe all their neighbors are also supernatural creatures.

There are stories and superstitions abound about the seaside bluffs, but that's to be expected in a town of fishermen. One night, from the bluffs' direction, you hear someone singing, softly. (Submitted by: someoneoffthestreet)

Astronauts coming back to earth keep talking about hearing songs from outside the space shuttle. What they don't say, is that those songs followed them home.

Someone stared at her through the window. She had always felt safe in her own home, shutting out the scary, real world. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

A plane disappears from the radar and then reappears multiple hours later at the exact same location in the middle of the ocean with no place to land and not enough fuel to just fly around for hours.

"We shouldn't enter! This place was abandoned for a reason!" "Come on, don't be a coward. We will be the only ones here!" "Okay, okay... I'll follow you. You don't have to push me!" "I... I didn't push you..."

A session of reading tea leaves ends in chaos when every single participant reveals a bad omen.

Something tells the home owner that the kids trick-or-treating in front of his house are not wearing costumes - and are not human at all.

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[catboyieejeno]

nct dream reaction ༊*·˚

"i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now,"

content: gn! reader (no pronouns mentioned, no other implications of gender), the dreamies being the cutest boyfies, tooth-rotting fluff

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mark lee

"are you not tired?"

you quickly shake your head, blinking at him with soft eyes, "no," you mumble contently, "i like watching you play,"

mark's cheeks glow a light shade of pink as he stares down at the guitar in his hands, nodding, "okay,"

he continues to strum, pretending that your gentle gaze doesn't make him nervous; quietly, he starts humming along to a random melody in an effort to soothe the hammering in his chest.

you watch, completely enamored by everything that is him: his hair that lacks any sense of direction, the glasses that hang low on his nose, waiting patiently to be pushed back. even the tiny pimple patch on his forehead invites a smile to your lips. the way his fingers strum the different chords on the guitar is mesmerizing, and you think, god, i could watch him for hours.

"i love you," you blurt out.

he stops playing and his gaze meets yours. when the three words leave your lips, mark stops breathing; his eyes glance between yours, greedily soaking in the fondness of your confession.

"and i love you, pretty," he finally breathes out, gawking at the expression on your face, "wow," he mutters. perhaps, it's the lack of sleep or the certain fogginess brought on by staying up until the earliest hours of the morning, but you have never looked more fascinating.

"what?"

"nothing, i just-" his eyes are dazed, deep in thought.

"what? tell me?" you insist.

"it's just... i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now,"

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ huang renjun

your eyes dart between the canvas on your lap, an abomination of colorful smudges and scribbles that look like a primary school student’s best work, and that of your boyfriend’s. his painting is carefully done, organized, clearly mirroring the vase of tulips you were using as reference.

“i’m never painting with you again!” you pout, arms crossing stubbornly against your front. renjun, more than amused at this, laughs loudly.

“why, honey? i love it.”

“liar! it looks like terrible, jun-“

“it looks beautiful,” he starts, placing both hands on your shoulders, “because you drew it. it’s... abstract, unconventional,” he encourages, “it’s freaking cool, just like you!”

initially, you roll your eyes but after a few seconds, you can’t help but give in, letting your arms fall to your side in defeat.

“you’re so corny,” you huff, feigning annoyance.

“maybe," he agrees, "or, maybe i’m just secretly convincing you to paint with me again because i love you and i love spending time with you like this.”

your eyes lose their sternness instantly. instead, they widen, looking up at renjun. at his words, you feel your heart swell up, the tips of your ears turning hot. that definitely wasn’t the response you expected.

you wrap your arms around his waist tightly, muttering a shy, “really?”

he bobs his head up and down, fascinated by the way you look at him.

“yes,” he mumbles, “and i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now. how's that for corny?"

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee jeno

jeno throws his controller onto the desk, cursing loudly.

your head shoots up from the crook of his neck where you were beginning to drift off, curled up in his lap.

"fuck, sorry," he apologizes, bringing a hand up to rub your back, "it's just that fucking haechan- i'm sorry, baby," he breathes out.

"it's okay," you run your fingers through his locks, slightly amused at the way he gets so worked up over a game.

"his girlfriend came into the room so he just left his controller there and kept the game running instead of telling me he was leaving," jeno rambles, "and now we lost two games in a row,"

unable to help the giggle that leaves your lips, you brush his hair away from his forehead, pressing your lips to it, then kissing each one of his cheeks after. he stops complaining, settling for letting you pamper him.

"you're so cute," you whisper. he only grumbles beneath you and holds you closer against him. you give him a peck on his lips, using your hands to smush his cheeks together.

"i'm sorry i woke you up," he whispers once you pull away. you shake your head.

with your fingers lazily tracing his features, you reassure him, "s'okay, i don't mind. i wasn't even asleep yet. just drifting off."

"well, how about i turn off the game and we can go lay down- why are you looking at me like that?"

"like what?" you ask, unaware of the way your tired eyes are glossed over with love as you stare at the prettiest boy ever.

"i don't know," he mumbles, leaning in so his lips are barely brushing yours, "i can't describe it but- all i know is-" his heart skips a beat as you subconsciously bat your eyes, "i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now," he presses his lips against yours and picks you up, carrying you to the bed.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ lee donghyuck

"mmm.. that feels good," hyuck purrs. his voice is muffled as a result of his lips pressing into your shoulder blade, lazy kisses leaving behind a trail of wet marks.

meanwhile, your nails rake up and down his back, tickling and scratching his warm, bare skin. haechan swears he could melt in your arms.

"you're so good to me," he admits, leaning up to take a peek at your face, already looking back at him with so much sentiment, "and you're so beautiful," his brow furrows, "i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now,"

"i know you had a long day," you start, smiling as you feel his hand squeeze your side, "it's the least i can do,"

"staying up past a reasonable hour so i can cling to you and complain about my day is the least you can do?"

"i do it because i want to," you reiterate, "and give yourself credit, bub, you do a lot for me, too,"

"i should be doing more," he sighs with discontent, leaning his chin on your chest, "if i wasn't always so busy-"

"you make me my favorite foods on the days you have practice so that i won't miss you too much while you're gone. you run me scented baths when i'm sick and rub menthol on my chest even when there's snot in my nose," he playfully grimaces, although he can't contain his quiet giggles, "and you always let me pick what movie we watch, even if we've already seen it a dozen times," you explain, "i would do this a hundred nights over, hyuck."

his cheeks burn red, and for a moment you think you may be hallucinating. it wasn't common for donghyuck to be flustered, nor was it an easy task to accomplish.

he puckers his lips as if to ask for a kiss, which you gladly give him.

"for the record," you mutter, "i never want you to stop looking at me this way either,"

hyuck shakes his head, "never, baby," before nuzzling his face back into your neck.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ na jaemin

"hold still," jaemin insists.

you shift around, trying to get comfortable where you sit up on the bathroom sink. your boyfriend stands in front of you, wearing a half-hearted scowl and a bright green face mask that made it impossible to take him seriously. he has one hand on your hip to keep you steady while the other applies the cleansing goo to your cheeks.

"babe," he tries when you wiggle again.

there’s no chance you can concentrate on keeping still with how ridiculous he looks. you snort and shake your head, "sorry, sorry."

"you're lucky you're cute," he grumbles, focusing on getting an even layer of product across your forehead.

having him so close, conveniently situated between your legs, made it so easy to stare at him. you found yourself glancing between his eyes and lips as you pucker up, leaning in.

“ah-ah” his finger comes up between your two faces, stopping you before you can come any closer, “what do you think you’re doing?”

your eyes roll as you move aside his hand, stealing a kiss any way.

“hey!”

“oh, come on, shrek, it’s not that deep,” you laugh, fisting the material of his shirt and pulling him in, pressing your lips against his. he clumsily puts down the green container on the edge of the sink when your kiss takes him by surprise. his hands blindly feel around for the towel, wiping off the excess product so that he can properly hold you and deepen your affection, so much so that the both of you only break apart when you’ve run out of air.

“even covered in green,” he pants breathlessly, “you’re still as hot as ever.”

“you have a way with words,” your thumb swipes at his lip to wipe away what you've smudged.

"i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now," he exhales.

"woah, where did that come from?"

"it's just been on my mind for a couple days... i've noticed how your pupils dilate when you look at me, there's so much adoration in your-" he whispers, "well, i just feel like i don't tell you enough that i love you, and that i appreciate the way you love me."

"jaemin..." you coo, but he interrupts you, capturing your lips in another kiss.

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ zhong chenle

every one of his features is perfectly shaped, but boy, are his lips are so deliciously plump and pink. it isn't the first time you find yourself drooling over them, and you certainly don't think it'll be the last.

chenle tears his eyes away from the tv when he catches sight of you out of the corner of his eye, "what's on your mind?"

"nothing," you sharply reply and shift your gaze back to the screen, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

but your answer's not enough for chenle, who sits up and pauses the movie, turning to face you with his brow furrowed in concern.

"hey, what's wrong?" he chimes, poking his finger into your cheek.

"no, nothing's wrong. i just don't want you to make fun of me." you warn.

"why would i make fun of you?"

"for staring at you."

chenle's lips break into a smile and he laughs loudly.

mortified, you gasp and yank the blanket up and over your head, "see! you're making fun of me!"

"no no," he takes your hands into his, moving the blanket out of the way so he can see you clearly, “i’m laughing because you think i'd make fun of you for that,”

“it’s just,” you brush your hair away from your face, “i just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable cause i was staring at you. i know you're not super affectionate, which is fine, but-.”

“you can stare at me all you want. as a matter of fact, i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now. the day you stop, i’ll just have to assume you don’t love me anymore.” he crosses his arms, huffing.

“yeah, you’re not affectionate," you laugh, "but you’re definitely dramatic.”

ੈ♡˳

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ park jisung

"i don't understand why i can't have another bite."

you savor the taste of your ice cream and then hold it far away, arm outstretched so that jisung can't reach it, "it's not my fault you ordered a flavor just because it was colorful,"

he whines, grabbing the end of your shirt to keep you close, "it was bright blue! i didn't know cotton candy would taste so bad! stop walking, lovey," his hand slips into yours and he spins you around until your chest presses against his. taking advantage of your proximity, he quickly kisses you. he pulls away with a pop, licking his lips.

"did you just-"

his eyes grow wide, as do yours. "well, you wouldn't give me another bite of yours so i-," even he can't believe how bold he was just a minute ago, "-i had to t-taste it on your lips."

my, that had to have been the cutest thing you've ever seen him do. you're pretty sure your eyes have turned into hearts with the way you're ogling him, "ji..." you start.

"mine tasted really bad," his tone is nervous, defensive even.

"ji," you beam again, but his eyes look anywhere but yours. that is, until your palm cradles his face, directing his attention back to you, "that was so cute,"

his teeth are pressed together, almost gritting as he speaks through them, "it-it was?"

"you should do that more often,"

"do what?"

"be bold like that..."

he slowly nods up and down in understanding, "okay, as long as you do that more often, too."

now, it's your turn to ask, "do what?"

"keep stop looking at me like that,"

"looking at you how, ji?" you shrug.

"i never want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now, and if it takes me kissing you by surprise more often, w-well, then-"

smooch!

and he's done it again!

ੈ♡˳

[24carathoney]

Let's Play A Little Game | H.JS | 18+

Pairing: Joshua x FemReader

Wc: 2.2k

Genre: Smut // Established Relationship

Warnings: minors do not interact // f. masterbation // m. masterbation // Joshua watches reader masterbate // unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) // f. fingering // squirting // creampie // multiple orgasms // overstimulation // use of pet names such as beautiful, love, baby //

Summary: Joshua and reader make a bet.

The rules were simple. The one who cracks first loses. If the both of you weren't so damn determined this game would've been over by now. But no. Neither of you could give up the title of winner. Here you are alone at home, soaking in the bathtub while Joshua was away at a photoshoot. Your mind was racing and the ache between your legs was beginning to be too much. And all of your me time wasn't helping one bit. 

You and Joshua were sitting on the couch in your shared home while he told you about the different bets Mingyu had lost during the tour. 

“He bet Seungcheol he could beat him in a fight?” You cackled, head leaning against the couch as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Yeah he did! It was so funny watching someone as tall as him run away from Seungcheol.”

“Seungcheol is a fucking power house. I'd run away too. I'm not getting hit by him.” Joshua let out another laugh as you scanned over his features, when an idea popped into your head.

“Speaking of bets. I have one in mind. For the two of us.” He arched an eyebrow but gave you his full attention, watching you fiddle with your fingers. “Let's see who can last the longest without sex.” 

“You honestly think you'd win that fight?” His eyebrow remained raised as his hands intertwined behind your back, pulling you closer to his body. You gave an excited nod, rubbing your hands over his clothed chest. 

“Yeah. I think I've grown used to your games. It shouldn't be a problem.”

“Have you? Okay then…..what does the winner get?”

“The loser has to do whatever they say for the next week.” You said and he looked up at the ceiling as if he was contemplating his choices.

“Alright. You got yourself a bet beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, sealing the deal. 

You let the memory fade as you dragged your hand down into the water, leaning back against the tub. A sigh left your lips as you imagined it to be his fingers instead of your own. You could feel the slick of your arousal between your thighs and that easily let you slip two fingers past your folds. Your head pulled back as you started thrusting your fingers in your entrance, a quiet moan leaving your lips. It felt good, but your fingers were not nearly as thick as his or as skilled. You curled your digits to that gummy spot that could push you over the edge but it wasn't enough. You groaned as you pulled your fingers out, starting to get more frustrated. The two of you made that stupid bet now you're struggling. Why? Because neither you or Josh plays fair. The past couple of days have been nothing but subtle glances, sly touches, and teasing. God the amount of teasing he's put you through. The night before he wanted nothing more than for you to cave. Telling you how beautiful you looked. How badly he wanted to bend you over the counter and take you then and there. 

“Don't you have that photoshoot tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Seungcheol and Jeonghan are gonna be there too.”

“Ah I see the 95 liners having a shoot together. How sweet.” You stated eating out of the cheeto bag in your hands. He nodded but wasn't fully listening as kept his eyes glued to your mouth when you licked the excess cheese dust from your fingers. You thought nothing of it until he grabbed your wrist, bringing a single digit to his lips. You shivered as his warm tongue ran over your finger and you swore you could die a happy woman tight in the kitchen. When he pulled away you stared up at him with wide eyes before he sent you a wink. 

“Come on beautiful, we should head to bed.”

“Hong Jisoo you can't do that to me and expect me to just fall asleep!” You shrieked as he walked away with his head thrown back.

“Trust me. I want nothing more than to fuck you right here in this kitchen. Bent over and on display for me. But I have a bet to win.” 

You sighed as you looked down at your hand, frustrated that you couldn't find the relief you dearly craved. Before Joshua you had no issue getting yourself off. But after Joshua? That man showed you many different ways to explore your body that you never knew existed. You decided to stop sulking and just watch a movie tonight. You grabbed your towel and stepped out, letting the bath drain out as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You scoffed as you went into the bedroom not even realizing Joshua was leaning against the doorframe. You moved to let go of the towel and a loud groan left his throat as it piled up onto the floor at your feet.

“Jesus babe you scared the shit outta me! Announce yourself!” You shouted as his dark gaze scanned you from head to toe. The man wasted no time closing the distance between you, taking your waist into his tight grip. “Shua….” 

“Did you cum?” You shuddered at his blunt question trying not to think about the way his hands are running up and down your sides.

“What?”

“In the bathroom…..you know you're not very quiet.” He smirked down at you and you took your bottom lip between your teeth. He grazed your cheek with one hand as he stepped forward, pushing you backwards till your legs hit the edge of the bed. There he was on his knees above you with dark hungry eyes and you felt yourself getting wetter than you were in the tub. 

“I think I thought of a way for both of us to get off, without losing the bet.” He took off his jacket and hooked a finger over his collar, slightly pulling to open up the top of his shirt. “We can't touch each other but we can touch ourselves. While the other watches.” Your chest grew tight with excitement. You've never had him watch you fuck yourself, be it with a toy or your own fingers. So this new side of your boyfriend definitely sparked something inside you. “Show me.”

“Show you?” You sat confused and he spread your legs apart gently.

“Show me how you were touching that pretty pussy love.” He said in a low voice and you lowered your hand between your legs. You laid back, getting comfortable to give him a better look. He let out a deep groan as your cunt glistened. Shining under the light beaming from the lamp beside the bed. “Look at that. So fucking wet for me.”

You whined when your finger grazed your clit wishing he'd do something. Anything. But he just continued to watch you. You decided to entertain him and arched off the bed when you slipped a finger inside with ease. You started to get hot under his intense gaze. In a sudden need for more, you added a second finger, using your other hand to rub soft circles around your throbbing bud. You couldn't get off before but now? It was something about the way he watched you that sent you to cloud nine. Your eyes fluttered closed as you drove yourself closer to the brink of an orgasm. You jolted in surprise when you felt his breath on your inner thigh, not even hearing him move down your body. 

“Joshua.” A shaky breath left you as he peppered soft kisses along your skin, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. But that's all he did. His lips never made it home causing you to whine in frustration. 

“Patience baby. *kiss* “Watch me.” *kiss* “Watch you.” *kiss* Every place his lips landed left a warm sensation as you plunged your fingers deeper into your pussy, your palm slapping against your clit. A familiar knot quickly formed in the pit of your stomach as your mouth fell open, the thumping in your ears slowly getting louder. “That's it. Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum for you.” You shook as he dragged his tongue along the skin of your inner thigh. Your body went stiff as your release crashed onto you leaving Joshua in awe. He could never get enough of watching you come undone. It would be a memory he stored for the rest of his life. He ran his hands over your thighs as you came down from you high, not even listening to what he was saying. 

“Did you hear me love?” 

“Hmm?” You had a content smile on your face, feeling his lips on your thighs again. 

“Think you can give me another?” His question finally reached your ears and you shook your head. 

“I can't…” But you could and you would for him. Anytime he asked. 

“Just one more. Let me savor it.” His voice was quiet but loud enough for you to look back up at him. His hand stroked his dick to give himself so relief as his eyes locked onto the way your mouth fell open. Your eyes drifted down to his hips and your tongue darted out to lick your lips as you watched him stroke himself. You wasted no more time to slip two fingers back into your slit. Your thrusts were quick as the sound of your drenched pussy filled the room keeping eye contact with Joshua who kept up with your pace. He could die a happy man watching the way your wetness dripped down your thighs each time your fingers slid back into your cunt. You twitched as he grabbed your wrist, positioning your fingers at a new angle while his hips quickly thrust in his hand.

“Oh” Your world was spinning as your fingers pushed against that sweet spot you tried earlier. But this time it was heavenly. Euphoric even. Your thrusts became erratic and you felt a familiar sensation build in your lower belly. “Joshua I'm gonna…….fuck.”

“Let go for me. Give me all of it.” Joshua had managed to strip out of his pants while you were concentrating on chasing your release for the second time. Joshua was too busy taking a mental screenshot as you bit your lip, eyes shut tight with your brows close together. You couldn't hold back any longer as your second orgasm had you seeing stars. You arched your back off the bed as the splash of liquid left your body, gushing all over the bed and Joshua. The sound of your pussy gushing bounced off of your loud moans as the sheets under you became soaked. You had squirted all over his thighs and lower belly. Your body went limp for a couple of seconds as you sat there to catch your breath. The wet and cold feeling on his skin was enough to make him go feral. 

“Fuck it.” He grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing your legs up as he slipped into you with ease. The sudden intrusion caused you to scream out and grab onto his arms. You swore your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his hips slammed into your ass, his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust. You're going to cum again. The drag of his cock along your walls was beginning to make you lightheaded. You were overstimulated but the pleasure was too good as his hips fucked into you at a rough pace. His hand came up to rest on the curve of your hips and you squealed as his thrusts became relentless, the man above you determined to have you trembling tomorrow. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” the word falls from your lips like a chant as your release hits you like a freight train. You arched into him as your body stilled, pushing out your cum like a fountain with enough force to have him slip from your pussy. He watches you drench his cock and thighs and within seconds he was back on you, fucking you through it as your nails dug into his back. The pressure in his stomach was ready to snap and he placed a soft kiss to the back of your ankle before pulling it over his shoulder, hips pistoning into you slow and hard. The fucked out look on your face paired with the way your pussy clamped down on him was enough to tip him over the edge as he gave one last hard thrust. His body stuttered and you felt him shoot his load deep into you. He gave a few more thrusts to ride out his high before grabbing himself by the base and slipping out of you with a squelch. You whined softly as the feeling of his warm cum leaked out of you. He scooped up some of the excess before pushing back into your hole causing you to jolt as he brushed your clit by mistake.

“I guess……” You took a deep breath.  “I win.” Your eyes locked onto his and he gave you a soft smile before taking your lips in a kiss. 

“I guess so.” He smiled as he kissed your shoulder. “What would you like me to do first?”

“Make me dinner?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“As you wish.”

[pinkyqil]

I'm sorry

Lucy bronze x ona batlle x r

Summary: childhood bestfriend to lovers to strangers

Warning: just toxic bestfriend, jealousy issues to many spelling mistakes for me too care for at this point in life

You and Lucy had always been together 24/7 has you both grew-up together like the childhood friends you're. Never letting go of one another. Always following each other, most people would think that you both were together.

"You've always felt attracted to lucy. Because of the way she treats you, always taking care of you getting the stuff she knows you'll need and most of all dealing with your massive sassy princess attitude.

Back in 2020 where she played for Manchester city around the covid out-break. You both decided to moving in together, always needing each other's company. After a while of living with lucy she finally confessed her feelings which you felt the same way.

Making you both finally official has most of your friends have been anticipating the moment.

You and lucy relationship had been going amazing. a little fights here and there but nothing to serious that would go way too far. Until she announced that she'll be leaving to play for Barcelona meaning you'll both have to do long distance until she comes for break or international duties.

Which you were okay with until now you've both been arguing way more recently all you ever wanted was for her to make more time on her busy schedule but she couldn't has they've been having game after game. Making you upset which would start random yelling match from the phone's.

"Another yelling match". said ona

lucy and ona had gotten really close for the past months. that she been playing for barca has she was found by her in the locker room crying from one of your arguments. Since then they've both gotten really close

"Yeah it just getting way worse and I don't think I know what to do".lucy said

"lucia I think we both know what you need to do" replied ona.

"but ona you know I can't I love her too much to do that she's been through everything with me all I want is to is too fix the holes in our relationship but nothing seems to work".

"I know but you can't keep pushing it like that do what best for both of you". ona told her while holding her hands.

That night you got a call from lucy which you weren't expecting.

cause it would have been really late for lucy which meant she was definitely up thinking about something but what she told you honestly couldn't comprehend.

She was breaking up with you over the phone from 1,137.96 kilometers away from each other that night you cried your heart out from the heavy feelings to now feeling empty.

You lost the love of your life the person that made you smile gave you whatever you needed that assisted you without asking you lost her.

And now feeling broken pices that no one could ever pick up again you hated this banging pain.

It been months since you're break up with lucy some people could've seen it from a distance but other's likewise.

it came shocking to both families who were sure that you both would have worked it out and get married in the future.

But they were wrong cause now she was with ona.

Ona is a pure soul nothing compare to you. you've tried hating her but couldn't the girl was way to nice for her own sake everyone around her loved her which you couldn't get that much what was so special about her but not you.

The last time you saw Lucy was around her vist back to england but instead of as lover you both we're now mere strangers who were once deeply inlove.

A/n : this has honestly sleeping in my drafts for the longest of time and I just got it done there's probably a lot of mistakes cause it wasn't proof read yet but other than that hope y'all enjoy this and don't forget that my request are open

[lalacliffthorne]

💜 starshine pt. III 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

notes: literally no summary possible without intense spoilers. you´ll probably be able to guess what this chapter entails by just like the first few sentences (btw, it's been ages since I read the books, so I'm working on a lot of creative freedom with this one lol). fair warning: this one's angsty. like I already mentioned, it's also insanely long. so. have fun? I guess?

______________________________________________________________

Slipping through the wards felt like a tingle of ice on my skin. My breath hitched, and for a second, I expected the mountain to cave in on me, squash me as it realized someone had breached the magic binding so many to its halls.

But nothing happened.

The servant fae's dress slipped up my thighs when I slid into the dark corridors. I had caught her when she had lingered too close to the wards, golden whisps of magic seeping through the bounds and engulfing her, catching her when she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. I had swapped our clothes before hiding her floating body behind a glamour and slipping into the dark mountain.

Something closed around my throat lightly as I moved through the shadows, stilling every time I heard a sound.

Fifty years.

Fifty years of chipping away at the wards guarding the mountain, little by little so no one would notice the small growing hole in the thickly woven magic. Fifty years of trying to be everywhere at once, moving through the courts, healing those in need before slipping away before anyone could notice. Fifty years of faeries slaughtered in numbers becoming bigger and bigger, causing rage to grow slowly in my chest.

Fifty years of dreaming of violet eyes like night skies.

I remembered the day Amarantha had caught them all like it was yesterday.

I had been staying in the Day Court, and from one second to the next, the warm summer night had turned ice cold. A darkness had placed itself over the world, the faeries in the garden had disappeared and the glow of the flowers had dimmed. An icy shiver had run down my spine, and like instinct, I had reached out for Rhys, for that familiar feeling that was always not far from the bounds of my mind, the sharp claws that tickled my soul before the deep, rich voice echoed through my head, even when their owner was on the other side of Prythian.

But there had been nothing. No presence, not even when I had called out to him. Instead, there was a harsh wall, like something, or someone, was blocking him.

I had started looking for him the day after.

☆

Following the halls deeper into the mountain, I simply listened to the tug in my chest that pulled me forward, guiding me towards the hum of power. My own responded, slithering angrily under my skin, and I pushed it down, barricading it behind walls as high as the sky.

I had learned to hide the thrum of power flooding through me a long time ago. It was what kept me hidden in the courts, allowed me to exist without anyone bothering me.

Strangely enough, it had never kept Rhys from finding me, like even the way my powers were hidden was distinct enough for him to track me down. When I had brought it up once, he had just grinned so widely, his cheeks had creased as he replied: “Starshine, I would be able to find you on nothing but instinct even if you were galaxies away.”

Back then, it had made something skip softly against my ribs as I had thrown a pillow at his head.

Now, just the memory of his voice caused a strange ache in my chest.

Amarantha had taken Rhys away from his family, his home. And I was sure that the only reason he was playing her game, bowing to her, was to protect them.

If there was one thing I had learned about him in the past century, it was that his friends, his family and his home were everything to him. And that he would do anything to keep them safe.

Even give himself up.

The tight feeling in my chest shifted, like for a second, something scratched the surface, a familiar presence growing closer, and I breathed out soundlessly.

There was no way I was going to let her break him.

Not him.

☆

The whispers from Under the Mountain had been vague, but with time, they had started to paint a picture, blurred and hazy, but clear enough to know that Amarantha had a fable for lavish nights with wine and entertainment.

I had expected that entertainment to be cruel. I had spent the last fifty years trying to protect the faeries, for Amarantha seemed to have developed a taste for keeping them like animals, all while hearing rumors about the Fae trapped Under the Mountain, forced to bow to her will.

But what was awaiting me when I slipped through the doors into the huge cavernous hall, the stench of spirits hitting me and the air pressed from my lungs – was so much worse.

There were Fae everywhere, dressed in a way that left little to the imagination. Their gazes ranged from empty to forcingly amused to petrified, but their bodies moved like they were in a trance, not their own will causing them to dance, grind on each other and do more, in plain sight for all to see.

It felt like a sick, twisted stage play, orchestrated for nothing but the embarassement and torture of the courts and one single person's amusement, one person who loomed on a dais at the back wall, sitting on a throne, dressed from head to toe in blood red.

My eyes zeroed in, and my powers surged against the walls caging them in.

Amarantha had tipped her head to the side, her golden crown glittering in the light of the torches as she watched the spectacle at the foot of the dais. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders, her long nails tapping against the armrests. There was a light amused curve to her lips, but her eyes were cold and calculating.

Somehow reigning in the magic raging under my skin, I pressed my lips together and followed her piercing gaze, down to the steps leading up to the dais -

The wind got knocked out of my lungs.

The noises, the hall around me faded as something pulsed slowly against my ribs, my heart beating like the wings of a butterfly caught in time, trying to escape from my chest as my gaze narrowed in until it was centered on the male at the foot of the dais, a picture of lazy feline confidence so familiar, I had to fight for air.

Rhys.

Suddenly, fifty years caught up with me. Fifty years of his face burned into my mind, his smile and the way his violet eyes twinkled like a glittering night sky.

Only it was gone now. The spark in his iris, the vibrancy of his eyes. His dark hair, though still impeccably styled, had lost its shine, his sunkissed skin was pale and sallow, and his smile –

Something tightened so harshly in my chest, I held my breath.

Gone was the cheeky curve of his lips, the mischievous turn of his grin and that stupidly beautiful smile. It had been replaced by a light smirk, one that was cold and cruel and –

Didn't reach his eyes.

His smile had always reached his eyes. Even when it promised violence and bloodshed and broken bones, it always translated to the way his eyes looked, to the spark in his iris, angry or furious.

Only it didn't anymore.

I tried to swallow, fight against the way something closed around my throat when I stared at Rhys and his eyes, dull and unmoving as he gazed down onto the heap at his feet, a heap -

My breath stilled, and the grip around my throat changed to vice.

It was a sprite boy. A moonwing, with feathery white hair caked with dirt, milky pale skin torn and bloody over too-thin limbs, and his wings –

His wings.

A sound built at the bottom of my throat, a strangled whimper that was swallowed by the harsh noises around me. Something clawed at my chest, a pain so heavy I almost went to my knees as I stared at what used to be thin-as-lace wings, their white membranes hanging in bloody shreds over a whipmarked back.

Quickly clamping a shaking hand over my mouth to smother the heaving sob breaking from my throat, I almost sank into the wall, my body beginning to shake. I felt something hot run over my cheek as I stared at the faerie, swaying as he tried to get to his feet without the support of his wings. His pain was mine, his despair gripping me like an iron fist, my breath trembling as my vision blurred and I whimpered.

No.

Rhysand stilled. I could see his shoulders shift. Then his head rose, eyes tearing away from the moonwing to swiftly move over the crowd, and for nothing more than a second, a fraction of a heartbeat, something flashed through his eyes, something that was buried so deep, it was nearly impossible to make out.

Like somehow, he felt my anguish, could sense a presence in the crowd that didn't belong -

The guards at the edge of the dais moved, and Rhys blinked. Then his eyes moved away from the crowd, and his back straightened when a male stepped forward, staring hungrily at the moonwing.

There was a bloody whip hanging from his hand.

My heart tightened, lips parting as nausea washed over me like a tidal wave.

But before the male could take another step, Rhys moved. His motions were quick and smooth as always when he took a step forward and picked the moonwing up by his neck, and I could see the fairie's iridescent eyes flaring with panic as he started to struggle.

Then Rhys' hand closed around his jaw.

My heart stopped and my breath stilled when the crack of bones snapping whipped through the hall.

The moonwing's body went limp, head rolling to the side.

A muscle in Rhys' cheek twitched, his face unmoving as he let the faerie slip to the ground and raised his head, turning around. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the moonwing's lifeless body as the other male moved towards him with a scowl, gripping one of the fairie's shredded wings before he turned to drag him away from the dais and into the shadows, leaving behind a pool of blood on the stone floor.

Something hot streamed over my cheeks as I fought to breathe, and magic started to push against my skin, slowly growing until I had to keep all my focus on keeping it subdued.

My eyes rose, and a cold fist closed around my heart when Rhys sat down next to Amarantha. Her hand drifted towards him, her fingernails dragging lightly over his skin, and I could see the second his eyes clouded over like he had dragged up walls, high, high, higher as Amarantha whispered something with a smile like a viper.

Rhysand nodded once, eyes trained onto the crowd like it could hide the way his shoulders shifted like his body fought to move away.

It was all I needed to straighten my spine and breathe, something beginning to burn under my skin.

☆

I had slinked into the shadows when Amarantha had risen from her throne, Rhys following suit, though there was something in the way his eyes seemed to dull even more when he moved after her.

I lost them in the maze of halls a few times, but something, like a small tug in my chest, kept pulling me back onto the right path, like the golden whisps of magic swirling under my skin had latched onto Rhys, guiding me.

Slipping around a corner, I just caught a glimpse at a door closing. Waiting for a few moments, just to make sure, I slowly started to move, avoiding lanterns and melting into the shadows as I soundlessly slid down the hall until I could disappear into the alcoven right next to the door.

Pressing my back against the cold stone walls, I leaned my temple against the wall and focused on the noises slipping from the room.

For a second, my mind was slow, struggling to place the muffled sounds that seemed to be a female's, harsh and strangely drawn –

My heart stilled.

I could feel my breath, ragged as I stared at the wall ahead, something suddenly filling my throat like the urge to be sick, to stagger away from that door and what was behind it.

I was already half pushing away from the wall when the wave of emotion hit me like a brick. Like someone inside that room had slipped up, had lost control of what kept their feelings locked deep, deep down, because what they were doing right now was a struggle in itself, a struggle like having a hand around your throat that kept you from breathing.

I didn't know how I knew it was him. I just knew that the way his emotions vibrated under my skin, causing my knees to give out and my body to silently slide down the wall to collapse to the ground as I fought for air, was uniquely his.

Rhys was drowning.

I could feel it, feel the way his sense of self and his will to fight dwindled like they were slowly dragged under water. Overrun and fought to their knees by pain.

Pain that felt like ghostly fingernails running over his skin, like actions that broke apart pieces of him and caused guilt to drown him without his limbs fighting.

It was humiliation, and repulsion, and numbness. And fear.

Fear, so overwhelming and all-consuming, it wrapped around my throat like a rope, pulling tighter and tighter as I crouched frozen at the wall, tears streaming down my cheeks and something in my chest shattering silently as I squeezed my eyes shut.

I didn't know how I long I was sitting in the shadows, nor could I place the moment when Rhys' emotions slipped away like he had found the gap in his armor and patched it back up. But the remnants of them still clung to my chest, joining into a heaviness when I could hear movements behind the door.

Quickly and with shaking hands, I pulled myself to my feet, slipping back down the hall and into the shadows at the corner to the next, tear tracks cool against my cheeks when I watched the door open.

My heart stilled as I watched Amarantha appear in the hall, slipping her dress over her legs with a satisfied smile.

Something started swirling under my skin, growing with every second. Power, golden light that raged like fire, roaring and threatening to break free, to unleash and make the mountain collapse into itself as golden light wrapped around Amarantha's throat –

Swallowing, I forced it down with trembling hands.

Not like this.

It had taken years to gather enough information, barely any whispers trickling out of the mountain. Years to figure out that she had the High Lords under her control, chained to the mountain, all while her guards wreaked havoc on the lands outside. Courts withering, faeries dying.

The children from Winter had been the last straw.

I had to find a way to free the High Lords, get back their powers. Attacking Amarantha would just risk something happening to those caught down here, or outside.

Sinking back into the shadows, I watched Amarantha disappear into the other direction. I waited until she was gone, waited some more, just to make sure. Then I slipped down the hall.

The door creaked a little when I pushed it open, and cringing lightly, I hastily slipped through, closing it behind me carefully before raising my head, and my heart skyrocketed.

Rhys was standing at the opposite wall, his bare back towards me and shoulders shifting as he tensed, going rigid. He didn't turn around when he mumbled: “Anything else?”

His deep voice took away my breath, something tightening harshly in my chest at it's roughness.

He sounded defeated.

His name tumbled from my lips before I could stop it, quiet and hoarse and a little shaky.

“Rhys.”

He froze.

I watched as his shoulders straightened. He looked like he was holding his breath, his hands closing so tightly around the shirt in his hands, his knuckles turned white as he stared at the wall ahead, and for a second, I thought I could see a tremble run over his spine.

I took a step forward, whispering: “Rhys?”

His head turned ever so slightly, like he was forcing himself not to turn around but couldn't fully control his body, and I saw the moment he caught onto my scent.

His nose flared, and his limbs went utterly and fully still, like for a second, he even stopped breathing. Then he looked over his shoulder, and I stared at him, felt something surge high in my chest when his gaze found mine.

Rhys blinked, and my bottom lip trembled when his eyes became glossy, one corner of his lips curving slowly. Then he whispered, rough voice broken: “You're not real.”

My heart clenched violently, and I swallowed, staring at him through the haze of pain. Then I moved towards him, slowly but steadily, and I could feel Rhys fight the closer I got, like the instinct to reach out and the fear of reaching right through me were battling in his chest.

Halting a few inches away, stopping to keep myself from moving even though every part of me screamed at me to get closer, I swallowed before carefully reaching out a hand.

When my fingers brushed over his arm, something rippled through Rhys' body. His eyes snapped up from where he had watched my hand almost fearfully, flying to meet mine as his glossed over ones grew wide and his lips parted.

I sniffled, nose crunching as I sent him a smile, wobbly and uneven.

“Not getting rid off me that easily, remember?”, I whispered, and Rhys' hand closed around my wrist to yank me forward, into his arms.

My heart stopped when my chest collided with his.

It felt like I was thrown into one of the dreams that had haunted me for fifty years, dreams in which he'd been there, had grinned at me and teased me and been his gloriously annoying self, dreams I had woken from with a weight on my chest pressing me down, because I could feel the memory of his presence slip through my fingers.

Only now, I didn't wake up, and there was no pressing knowledge somewhere buried in the depth of my mind that it was nothing but a dream.

No, Rhys was there, tall and solid as he wrapped himself around me, clinging to me like I could be ripped away from him any second, and my breath hitched when I could feel the way his body started to tremble.

Something small in my chest shattered silently, and barely suppressing a soft whimper as pressure rose in my throat, I hastily wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held onto him. Held onto him, his skin cool under my mine, muscles taut as a bowstring when my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders and I clung to him, and Rhys laughed, wet and desperate and causing my chest to tighten so harshly, I hiccuped. His hands grabbed at my back, my dress, one finding its way into my hair, and I fought the heavy weight on my chest and the way my voice thickened when I whispered: “Hello.”

Rhys whimpered, his trembling fingers tightening their hold like he tried to drag me closer, like I wasn't already pressed into his chest, his breath shaking like the rest of him when he buried his face in the crook of my neck, and I could feel the second his walls broke. His chest started heaving, and something warm and wet pooled on my skin.

“It's okay.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I held onto him, feeling tears roll over my cheek as the ache in my chest spread, and my voice broke a little when I whispered: “I'm real.”

A shaking sob broke from Rhys' throat, and his fingers dug into my skin when he breathed out with a shudder that shook his body. Then he pulled back, nose pressing into my hair for a second, and when I raised my head, his hand slipped up to curl around the back of my neck, and Rhys pressed his forehead against mine. His quick, unsteady breaths made my heart skip, and I forced open my eyes, staring at him and his scrunched eyebrows and the tears silently rolling over his cheeks as he fought for air.

Quickly, I slid my hands down to press them against his sides, feeling my voice crack a little when I whispered: “Breathe.”

Rhys' eyes flew open, and the world staggered when his violet iris met mine, shimmering with tears and everything shining through them, like a dam inside of him had broken. He stared at me like I was the night sky he hadn't seen for fifty years, his fingers curling into my hair.

His eyes tracked the dried tears on my cheeks, and then his body went awfully still.

For a second, Rhys gazed down at me, his throat working as he swallowed harshly and his grip slackened a little. His eyes flickered over mine, and his voice, rough and fragile, broke a little when he mumbled: “How long have you been outside?”

I tried to breathe against the heaviness in my chest as I stared up at him, losing the fight against the way my throat closed as my vision blurred and my bottom lip wobbled.

My silence was answer enough.

Rhys' fingers twitched, and I could feel him freeze, pulling back, but I dug my fingers into his bare skin and swallowed harshly, a tear running over my cheek when I whispered, voice shaking: “I'm going to kill her.”

Rhys' eyes followed the tear, widening slightly, and suddenly, he looked panicked.

“You have to leave.”

“Rhys –“

“You have to get out of here, if she finds you with me –“ His breath quickened, his wide eyes causing something to squeeze my heart harshly.

In over a hundred years, I had never seen him like this, so utterly and completely afraid; fear, sheer frantic panic rolling off him in waves, completely ungarded -

“Indeed.”

I could feel the way Rhys froze under my hands when my eyes flew over to the door.

Could feel the wave of his unbridled dread crash over me when the female in the door smiled, her eyes flashing and blood-red hair glimmering in the candle light.

“Now look at that…”

☆

My knees dragged over the stone floors as the guards hauled me into the great, cavernous hall, Amarantha sauntering after us, Rhys behind her as he struggled against the males containing him, his teeth bared even as I could feel, smell the panic rolling off of him.

I tried to reach him, but the powers raging under my skin were slowly slipping out of my control, roaring at the way I could feel him struggle.

“Drop her.” Amarantha waved her hand casually, raising her brows as the guards dumped me to the ground in the middle of the hall and turning towards Rhys.

“You know, I really thought you'd have better taste.” Her tone was mocking, her smile amused. “A servant… and a faerie no less.”

Rhys fought against the guards holding him, but I could see the way his movements were restrained, like she was containing him. He looked like he was vibrating with unbridled fury, but there was something burning under the surface as I forced myself to my feet, something that made my heart tighten harshly.

Amarantha tutted softly, smiling widely. Her eyes raked over Rhys' face, and they sharpened. Then she raised a brow.

“Oh.”

Something skipped high and harsh against my ribs, and one corner of her lips quirked.

“Now that's interesting. Is it possible…” She tipped her head to the side, and Rhys grew rigid.

“You care for her. Oh now, now.” Amarantha laughed, and it rung through the air. “How quaint.” She smiled widely, and it sent a shiver down my spine as her eyes danced.

“The mighty High Lord and the faerie. I wonder…” Sauntering towards me, she reached out, her nails lightly raking over my jaw to tip it up, and I hissed at her, causing her to chuckle.

“Well, she is feisty. Still.” Her head tipped to the side, considering me like prized piece of cattle, and Rhys' struggle grew as she slowly started to smile and raised her brows mildly as she turned to look at him.

“I think you need a reminder who you belong to.”

Moving back, she lightly dipped her head, and someone kicked the back of my legs, causing them to buckle.

Sharp pain shot through my knees when I crashed to the floor, and I could feel my dress shift. Then rough hands pushed me forward and the fabric was ripped open, slipping down my back.

My heart skipped high into my throat, and I tried to reach out on instinct to cover myself, but my wrists were seized, forced away from my body.

I could hear the sound of a struggle, and when my eyes rose, Rhys was trying to tear himself away from the guards holding him, a terrifying snarl on his face. But Amarantha just smiled and placed a finger on her lips.

Iron shackles closed around my wrists, dragging my arms apart until I was kneeling, and my fingers started shaking as I tried to contain the magic brimming under the surface, the golden light trying to break out to rage around me. I forced up my head, and Amarantha raised a brow.

There was movement at the corner of my eye. Then something struck my back with such force, my body was thrown forward.

Burning pain seared over my skin, and a scream forced its way from my throat.

My back arched, trying to twist away, pain pulsing through my body and leaving my muscles trembling, and Rhys roared.

With one mighty rip, he broke away from the guards trying to contain him, but before he could make it even a few feet, Amarantha struck, and Rhys crumbled to the ground.

“No!” I struggled against the iron chains, magic surging under my skin as pressure build behind my eyes and an angry sound ripped from my throat.

“How precious.” Amarantha sounded bored and a little disdainful, waving her hand as she turned away, and two guards grabbed Rhys' arms, dragging him up until he was kneeling, forcing his head up.

He was bleeding, his brow cut, but it was nothing compared to the anguish in his eyes as they found mine, wild and desperate.

Fighting against the tug in my chest, I squeezed my burning eyes shut for a second before opening them again, staring at him as my body trembled.

“I,”, my voice broke with strain, “can take it.”

Amarantha chuckled. “Oh dear.”

Another hit struck my back, the whip slashing the air and through my skin, and a low scream tore from my throat. Tears brimmed at the corner of my eyes, my breath trembling at the pain pulsing through my back and into my body, and from holding onto the whirling storm in my chest.

“I doubt it.” Amarantha's eyes were glimmering with wicked delight, and as the next lash hit my back, I forced my head up, my body shaking as I gritted my teeth and fought the tears pooling from my eyes as they found the male behind her.

My heart stilled.

Went silent in my chest at the way he stared at me, head pulled back by his hair as the guards forced him to watch, his eyes wide, body rigid like he was gripped in an iron fist. There was something swirling in his gaze, not just anguish; pure torment, and intertwined with it was something else, something that reached so deep, I lost my breath.

No more.

The words seemed to whisper through my mind, through the fog and the pain, growing stronger as the air around me started to flimmer.

No more.

My eyes pierced into Rhys', a tremble going through my body. Then something settled in my chest.

No more.

Golden light bloomed around me as I let go. Allowed the whispers of magic to swarm me, flittering over my back, their whispering touch gentle, and I could feel the wounds close, leaving nothing behind but even skin.

The hum seemed to grow still, until I could feel the power in every inch of my body, pulsing and whirling, and Amarantha's voice reached me, sharp as she called to her guards: “Stop her, now -“

A wave of golden light erupted from my body.

Amarantha and the guards holding me got ripped off their feet, flung through the air, the males crashing into the walls as Amarantha slammed into the steps of the dais.

And as the ground started to tremble, the mountain itself rumbling like thunder, the shackles fell of my wrists and I pushed myself to my feet, golden swirls of magic building around me like a hurricane as rage carried me.

The doors flew open as guards streamed in, dozens and dozens more, barking orders as they took position and advanced, and power surged through my body.

The ground shook, then thick vines bursted from the stone floors. They slithered through the air, wrapping themselves around the guards and flinging them through the room, wrapping them up tight and engulfing them, their screams drowned as they turned into giant trees. Weapons turned into slithering branches, closing around their owner's arms and throats, armor grew green moss like treebark as I dodged a sword blow in a swift movement. Arrows flying at me turned into bursts of petals as I dove and slipped the guard's sword out of his hand, slashing it over his throat in one precise movement, and another wave of magic pulsed through my body, sending a wave that tore the remaining guards off their feet, swords and armor clattering when they crashed into the walls and onto the floors.

Raising my head, I felt the light around me flimmer, illuminating the sword in my hand for another moment as I slowly straightened, power surging through my body as the golden whisps began to disperse and I felt my breath again, quick and heavy. Something flickered in my chest when my gaze darted over the throne room, trees growing from stone floors, their branches stretching high up the cavernous ceiling, petals drifting over the ground and unconcious guards strewn across the floor.

The rage in my chest slowly washed away, a deep exhale leaving me, and looking over my shoulder, I felt something rise in my chest.

Rhys was still kneeling on the ground, having caught himself as the guards holding him had been torn across the room. His eyes were wide as his gaze darted over the hall, then they found mine, and something skipped so harshly into my throat, I lost my breath.

Rhys was staring at me like I had ripped open the mountain to show him the stars.

Something rose in my chest, fluttering like a hurricane, and turning around, I quickly stepped over a guard's legs and held out a hand, pulling him to his feet.

Slowly straightening, Rhys stared down at me, and his eyes began to shine in a way that made my breath catch.

There was a light flash of silver from the corner of my eye. I turned my head, and for a moment, time slowed.

Without thinking, I moved, the sword slipping from my hand and clattering to the ground as my fingers closed around Rhys' elbows and dragged him with me as I turned, turned until he was facing the dais and I was in the way, the way of –

Sharp pain struck my back.

I could feel my eyes widen, how time staggered just like my heart when hot, all consuming pain slowly spread from a point somewhere right beneath my shoulder blades. Then my eyes found Rhys', and the way he stared at me, his eyes growing wide, made time fall back into place.

My knees toppled lightly when pain crashed over me like a tidal wave, and Rhys dove forward to catch me. His pupils were blown wide as a wave of panic washed over me that wasn't my own, terrifying and mindnumbing as his hands frantically moved over my body, gripping my hips, pushing up my chin.

The pulsing pain from my back seemed to slowly consume my body, and my heart stuttered.

“No.” Rhys' voice ripped its on wound through my chest, disbelieving, hollow and horrified. His eyes darted over my face, all the color draining from his features, but he looked a bit blurred, like he was drifting away from me. I tried to grab at his chest, my movements strangely slow.

“Go.” My voice sounded strained to my own ears, but I forced myself to focus on Rhys' face, trying to fight past the pain the look on his face caused in my chest. His brows twitched as his eyes, panicked and frantic, darted over my face, and I pressed: “Get. Her.”

Rhys stared at me. Then something shifted in his eyes, beginning to glow, and his head rose, a terrifying growl rumbling from his chest.

“You.”

His hands slipped away from my arms and I could feel him move past me, something skipping high in my chest as I staggered lightly, dropping to my knees.

Forcing myself to straighten, I tried to suppress a whimper when I reached my hand up my back, twisting and feeling a rough sound built in my throat at the pain the movement sent cursing through my body.

My fingers slipped over something cold, and with a pressed sound, I pulled the blade out of my body. It clattered onto the stone, and the floor swayed under my knees when for a second, all I could see were black spots dancing before my eyes as something hot ran over my pulsing back.

Behind me, I heard the sound of fighting, snarls that made the hairs at the back of my neck rise, and I forced my head up to look over my shoulder. My vision swam, and my breath stilled when I heard the sound of a body hitting the ground heavily, heart rising into my throat as my eyes focused.

Rhys was kneeling on the ground before Amarantha, a sword pressed against the back of his neck as she snarled at him, hands curled into his hair, forcing his head back. I could see the fight in the strain in his shoulders, like he was battling her in his mind, but his body was trembling.

“Oh, I do like you on your knees.” Amarantha bared her teeth, and something shifted in my chest, blooming into a soundless roar as I pushed myself to my feet.

My fingers closed around the hilt of the sword I had dropped, the heavy blade beginning to glow in my grip, and Amarantha raised her head and scoffed.

“Don't be ridiculous.” She snarled as she stepped away, Rhys caught frozen, limbs trembling in a vain effort to free himself. “I posses the powers of all the High Lords of Prythian. No iron, no steel can defeat me, not even your powers. I have killed Fae for centuries.” Her eyes flickered over me, her lips curling. “You're no match for me, little faerie.”

Golden whisps of magic began to rise around me, the branches of the trees growing out of the stone rustling with a harsh wind, the vines creaking as they slithered, bowing into my direction as I walked towards Amarantha, magic beginning to grow under my skin until I could feel it glow.

I deflected the first blow of Amarantha's sword as it came crashing down, the force making the mountain rumble. Then I swerved to the right, blade slashing through the air as the space around us started to vibrate with power and my sword began to shine brighter and brighter.

“Give up!” Amarantha's voice shook the hall like thunder. “You'll never defeat me, you're a faerie, you'll just -”

My heart rose, and the mountain sang.

When my next blow came crashing down, it splintered Amarantha's sword in two with a blast of golden power. She dropped the useless hilt, eyes growing wide as her head whipped up, and my sword sank into her chest, deeper and deeper until we were face to face.

"I'm not just any faerie,”, I whispered.

A surge of power rippled through the air when I pulled the sword from Amarantha's chest, and I could feel the wards trembling. Then they shattered, the whole mountain groaning as I whirled around and swung the sword, the blade whizzing through the air and cleanly cutting off Amarantha's head.

Blood spattered, and with a thud, the female's lifeless body dropped to the ground.

Breathing heavily, I straightened, and my sword clattered as it hit the floor. The golden shimmer around me pulled back into my body, and suddenly, the world tilted.

My knees gave out, and I would have crashed down the steps if I hadn't been caught, arms wrapping around me and a familiar scent washing over me, causing my heart to jump weakly against my ribs.

I thought I heard a voice, deep and familiar and utterly panicked, calling my name as a warm hand closed around the side of my face, shaking me. But my lids were suddenly heavy, blinking becoming harder with the second. My body felt a bit like it was beginning to float; no more pain, only a strange, calm feeling, my limbs too heavy to move.

Through the fog, I heard the voice, thick and trembling, words not quite reaching me. Then something warm pressed against my temple, nudging my cheek.

“Stay with me.”

☆

Stay with me.

My eyes opened with a flutter, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

My gaze was blurry at first, but I thought I saw a high ceiling, far above me, the branches of trees, and felt arms holding me, propping me up against a warm, solid body that suddenly grew rigid.

Blinking, I breathed out before letting my head slowly roll to the side, and my eyes met another pair.

My heart skipped softly against my ribs at the sight of violet, mixed with starlight in eyes gleaming with tears, widening when they found mine as their owner became completely still.

I blinked, feeling slowly seeping back into my body, and a small sound broke from the back of my throat.

“Ow,”, I mumbled softly.

Rhys stared at me. Stared from shimmering eyes that were blown wide, wet tear tracks on his cheeks. His hand cradling my jaw was trembling, and something shifted gently in my chest at the way he seemed to fight for air. Then he blinked, and the tears in his eyes welled as his lips curved and a sobbed laugh left him, deep and shaking my body as Rhys dropped his head, his arms slipping around me until he was clinging to me, holding me to his chest as he pressed his nose against my temple.

I could feel his shuddering exhale, and how tears began to soak my hair, and something rose in my chest, fluttering wildly as it surged and pressure built behind my eyes, my fingers trembling as I curled them into his arm holding me.

Rhys' grip tightened, then he lightly pulled back his head. His hand slipped to rest against the side of my neck, and my breath hitched, stumbling until it stilled when he slowly started to smile at me. Smiled brighter and brighter, wide and radiant until deep creases formed in his cheeks and his violet eyes twinkled like a sky full of stars, and his voice was quiet and a bit hoarse when Rhys whispered thickly: “Hello, starshine.”

☆

Stepping out into the cool morning air, I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes for a second.

My body was still aching a little, my head thrumming, but it was duller now, like it was slowly ebbing away. The magic under my skin was no longer raging and whirling, instead buzzing softly from the healing I had done in the past few hours, Fae and faeries alike.

The wards had come down, the second Amarantha had died. Shortly after, the doors to the hall had burst open, and Rhys had gripped me tighter when all the High Lords had stormed inside, their newly returned powers thrumming just like the one's of the male holding me.

He had reluctantly left me alone, only after several insurances that I was fine and some mild teasing threats, his swagger returning to him as his mask slipped into place as he had joined the High Lords standing over Amarantha's body, her severed head turned towards the ceiling, her eyes staring lifelessly into the air.

Dropping my shoulders and stretching them slowly, my skin tingled gently right under my shoulder blades, and like instinct, I reached back, twisting my arm until I could brush my fingers over the spot where only a few hours ago, a dagger had nearly, maybe taken my life.

The skin was soft there now, and unblemished, as Rhys had showed me with a quick glimpse into my head.

Like there had never been any wound in the first place.

Letting my arm fall back to my side, I breathed out again before turning, and my heart did a soft skip when my gaze landed on the familiar male a bit away, standing on a ledge, head tipped back as he stared up at the sky that was slowly turning from a pale blue into a soft pink.

My heart skipped, and I hesitated for a second, then I carefully stepped onto the big ledge and softly called: “Rhys?”

My quiet voice carried through the cool air, and when he looked over his shoulder, my chest tightened harshly.

Tears were streaming over his face, his eyes shimmering as they reflected the sky, and I moved, darting towards him and stretching to slip my arms around his shoulders.

Rhys breathed out with a shudder, and his hands closed around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest. Then he turned his head and buried his face in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears drip onto my skin as soundless sobs left his body trembling, and my heart tightened harshly as my eyes welled.

Quickly pressing my nose against his shoulder, I let his pain wash over me, my chest aching as tears trickled over my cheeks and I buried my fingers in his hair.

By the time Rhys' sobs had faded away and the tears on my shoulder had dried as he just held me, the sun had started to rise on the horizon.

Carefully pulling back a bit, I looked up at him, finding his eyes already on my face, raw with emotion I couldn´t quite decipher.

“Go home,”, I whispered softly, and a shudder went through Rhys' body, his hands tightening their grip around my waist for a moment.

His eyes searched mine, then he blinked.

“Come with me.”

I blinked, feeling my lips part in surprise as I stared up at him. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no doubt, nothing. Just something that looked a bit like a soft, feverish plea.

I blinked, and warmth slowly spread through my body, something closing gently around my throat.

“I can't,”, I mumbled, and Rhys' grip loosened, causing me to quickly curl my fingers into his shirt.

“No, I just,”, I huffed a little, frowning at him, "not yet." Breathing out, I tipped my head to the side and sent him a soft, helpless smile. “There are still so many in there who need my help. And in the courts. I can't just –“

Rhys exhaled, and my heart skipped into my throat when he dropped his head to rest his forehead against mine, his hands gently closing around my waist.

“You're awfully inconsistent, you know that?”, he whispered, and his rough voice sent a soft tingle over my skin. “You claim to not like the High Fae, and yet, you're still helping them.”

“I know.” I gently tapped my finger against his chest. “I mean, I constantly help you, what's that all about?"

Rhys huffed, and I grinned lightly before pulling back and mumbling: “They've suffered enough for a while.”

Rhys blinked, and his eyes moved over my face, something beginning to glow gently in his iris.

“Promise that when you're finished, you'll come to Velaris.”

Staring up at him, I felt my heart flutter genly against my ribs. Then I blinked and slowly smiled, soft and cheeky.

“I promise.”

Rhys' eyes flickered over mine, and something tightened in my chest, my heart skipping when I quickly said: “Promise you'll find me if you need me?”

The male's gaze moved over my face, and slowly, one corner of his lips rose, just the tiniest bit.

“Promise,”, he mumbled, his deep voice sending a soft tingle down my spine, and I breathed out, a weight slipping from my shoulders.

For a second, I stared up at him, then, before I could stop myself, I stretched to press my lips onto his cheek.

Rhys' grip around me tightened, and my heart rose into my throat when I allowed myself to linger for just a second. Then I let myself sink back to the ground, and my breath hitched when Rhys dropped his head like he was trying to follow me.

The male blinked and slowly straightened again, staring down at me, a look in his eyes that made my chest squeeze gently.

Slowly, I took a step backwards, sending him a soft, crooked smile as I lightly poked his ribs.

“Go.” Warmth spread through my chest as I raised my brows. “They've been waiting long enough.”

Rhys exhaled, a weight seeming to slip from his shoulders, and I turned around. I could feel his eyes track me as I made my way back towards the entrance in the mountain.

When I looked back before stepping through, he was gone like the night breeze.

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @stayinglow-exploringworlds @tcris2020

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

taedros twodros

part one: taedros taedros ☆ part three: taedros tresdros**NEW wc: 1.9k reader: femme afab (maybe just afab idk again lemme know if you think it needs/doesn't need a femme label and i didn't use any pronouns so?? but i'm playing it safe just in case) SPECIFIC WARNINGS BELOW CUT ~ MINORS DNI MATURE SMUT!! summary: after weeks of loserbestfriend!taerae eating you out and seemingly wanting nothing in return, you finally find out the reason and offer to repay his original favor... okay. i did it. don't say i never did anything for you. don't spend it all in one place. 💀 also yes i ai enhanced that pic but i had no choice. he's so lame i love him. y'all like the title? twodros. okay bye.

EXPLICIT SMUT BELOW CUT-- MINORS DNI!!

specific warnings: oral f & m receiving, p in v (riding), subbyyyyy taerae want to make that clear but also switch taerae, switch reader, cum play, virgin taerae oops, pet names, taerae's red sweatpants, calling taerae's pussy eating obsession an "addiction", literally no mention of condoms or bc idk you know that's not always a good idea in real life but also i'm not a safe sex authority do whatever you want babe just think about it first :)

~*...*~

pressing light, teasing kisses to your clit, taerae chuckles at the frustrated sounds you’re making for him. his being so annoyingly cute even when eating you out isn’t helping. god, you’re dying to get your hands on him.

you don’t know when you started feeling this way about your best friend, but in the last three weeks something had undoubtedly changed. what started out as a pitch for taerae to tame your curiosity had since seemingly turned into a game of how many times during your weekly “movie night” he could make you cum before you passed out.

spoiler alert: it was a lot. taerae ate you out so much, in fact, that you were actually starting to worry…

was taerae addicted to eating pussy? had you been unknowingly enabling his pussy addiction? were you going to have to stage an anti-pussy intervention?

help check him into pussy rehab?

“fuuuck,” you whine, fingers threading through taerae’s hair as the sudden feeling of his tongue fucking into you breaks your train of thought. you’d already cum twice but taerae has caused you to become so greedy.

even if taerae had some sort of problem… who were you to complain when you were reaping all the benefits of it?

a moan from taerae brings your attention back to him and you notice he’s already begun humping the bed just a few minutes in. the past two weeks, he’d become less and less able to hold himself back; rutting into his mattress while you came on his tongue for hours. 

you’d seen taerae like this last week and gently pulled him up to you by his shirt collar; salivating when you saw how hard he was in his joggers. your fingers hooked over his waistband as you looked up at him tentatively. you expected him to eagerly agree, but instead he’d just shook his head and returned his lips to your swollen cunt.

watching as taerae moans into you at both your sweetness and the friction on his clothed cock, you realize just how desperate you are to make him feel as good as he had been making you feel.

“taerae,” you say but he doesn’t hear you, eyes closed as his tongue laps at your folds. you tug his hair a bit harder to get his attention, repeating, “taerae?”

his eyes flutter open as he looks up at you--  pulling back from your pussy reluctantly. he runs the back of his hand across his chin, wiping some of your juices from his mouth. “what’s wrong, baby? everything okay?”

you shake your head. “tae...”

“what, baby?” he asks, pushing up on his hands and sitting up to dote on you. he places a hand on each of your knees, pressing kisses to the inside of each leg. “tapping out already? i know you can give me more.”

“tae, i--,” you whine at his words; sitting up a bit on your elbows. eyes falling to the crotch of taerae’s ugly red sweatpants he'd had since high school, the small wet spot you find sends a fresh wave of need to your core. “want you. want you so bad.”

“y--... you do?” he asks in utter disbelief. he blinks at you nervously; swallowing hard as he averts your gaze. “are you sure? ‘cause i can just keep doing this if you want--”

“do you really not want to fuck me or something?” you interrupt, pouting at your best friend. “you’re so hard you’re soaking through your pants, so i just thought that maybe you’d want to. but you absolutely don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“fuck, i want to,” he says softly, squeezing your knees as his eyes find yours again. “but...”

“tae,” you coo worriedly, finally closing your legs and climbing over to him. “is something wrong? is all of this too weird? maybe we shouldn’t have done any of this...”

“no, no, no! i like this,” taerae pleads, shaking his head quickly. he presses his lips together for a moment, clearly unsure of whether or not to say his next thought. “i--... i don’t wanna fuck this up.”

your brow furrows at the sentiment. “you’re not gonna fuck it up, tae.”

“i am,” he says, scrunching his nose up. “because... um. well. remember when i said i ‘wasn’t a virgin’?”

“OH MY GOD, I KNEW IT!” you shout; much to the horror of taerae. you take his face in your hands, squishing it up cutely. “why didn’t you tell me, you absolutely adorable little virgin loser?”

“i thought you’d make fun of me,” he huffs through the pout your hands are squishing his lips into. you unsquish his face; pushing his floppy hair back out of his eyes sweetly.

“you’re really fucking good at eating pussy, tae,” you compliment; his cheeks tinging red. “you had me fooled... is that the only thing you’ve done?”

he nods shyly. 

“well look at us,” you say with a laugh, poking at his dimples. “no guys would eat me out and all girls will let you do is eat them out.”

he sighs; blinking quickly through his embarrassment. 

“well i guess we can be done for tonight, if you want,” you say, starting to climb off of his bed when a hand around your wrist pulls you back. you look at him, the expression on his face telling you he’s as “curious” as you were a couple weeks ago.

“or i can help you out,” you suggest and from the way his cock twitches in his pants, you know he was hoping you’d say that. “if you wanna... see what it’s like?”

“mm. wanna see,” he evhoes softly and you’re surprised by how much cuteness is radiating off of him right now. you’re on top of him in seconds, finally kissing him for what you realize is the first time. his lips are so soft and responsive and when he whimpers into your mouth, you tug his shirt up and over his head and push him gently to the mattress; his head resting on his pillow as he looks up at you through lidded eyes.

situating yourself between taerae’s legs, you pull at the waistband of his stupid red sweatpants and he helps you remove them. his bulge is straining against his black boxer briefs and you begin to palm him through them to help relieve some tension. as soon as he feels the slight pressure, he bucks his hips into your hand-- whining for more.

“do you want something, baby?” you ask, squeezing a bit firmer. he nods frantically, placing his hand over yours to keep you there. you squeeze a bit too hard now and taerae seethes at the pain. “don’t get demanding. you’ll take what i give you.”

he nods again, eyes wide with understanding. “m’sorry. m’so--... oh my god.”

pulling taerae’s boxers off his hips and down his legs, you sink down onto your stomach-- both of your hands wrapping around the base of his cock as you lick a long stripe from the shaft to the tip.

his dick is pretty— even prettier in your hands and you’re dying to put it in your mouth. sticking out your tongue teasingly, you tap him against it and the whimpers that fall out of taerae make you feel a bit dizzy with power.

after playing around a bit more with the head of his cock, you take his length in your mouth— pressing down on taerae’s hips to keep him from bucking down your throat by accident. 

tapping the back of your throat lightly, the sound that he makes is both deliciously obscene and concerning. you really don’t want him to cum before you get to feel that pretty cock stretching your walls.

you pull off of him and the bratty whine from the loss of contact that escapes him only inflates your ego. “if you cum down my throat, you’re not gonna get to fuck me. is that what you want?”

taerae whines again, his hand finding the back of your head and gently trying to push you back down on him. you know he’s not actually being forceful— he just wants you to react.

as you smack his right thigh hard, the mesmerized look in taerae’s eyes is thrilling.

“let me take care of you, okay?” you soothe, sucking his cock sloppily in between words. “you’ve been so sweet to me, baby. wanna make you feel good.”

taerae nods with a whimper as you straddle him; grabbing the base of his cock to position under your entrance. as he feels you sink down onto him, all he can cry is, “oh my g— oh fuuuck."

“fuuuck,” you echo in aas your walls slowly mold to taerae’s size. 

“please, please,” he moans; clearly already out of his mind. “n-need you s-so bad.”

“you’ve got me, baby,” you soothe, a hand gripping at either side of his chest. “how does it feel?”

“pussy so warm,” he cries, a hand finding each of your hips and holding them tightly. “so wet, too. oh my god it’s amazing.”

you wish all the guys you’d been with had talked to you like this. the way taerae basically worshipped your pussy was intoxicating.

“baby,” you whine— starting to fuck yourself on his cock. you watch as taerae’s eyes roll back in absolute bliss.

it’s only a few minutes before his nails are digging into the skin at your hips as he warns, “fuck, i can’t. m’sorry i can’t— gonna cum, g'nna—.”

“you can cum, baby,” you allow, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips. he keeps you there for a moment, kissing you and moaning into your mouth until you pull back. “want you to cum.”

“fuck, i--. fuck, m’cumming,” he cries; hips bucking into you as he reaches his high. as he slowly comes down, he’s unintelligibly babbling, “pussy s’good, honey— wanna live in it oh my god s’perfect i could die…”

“ssssh, baby, it’s okay,” you coo, pressing kisses up his chest. “you did so good.”

“mmm,” he mewls, covering his face with his hands as his cheeks flush pink. 

“you’re gonna wanna see this, tae,” you reach up and remove his hands from over his eyes, letting one fall to his chest and pulling the other towards you. lifting up off of him, taerae hisses at the loss of warmth as his cock falls to his stomach-- still leaking slightly from the tip. 

“holy fuck,” he moans-- the sound turning to a light, disbelieving laugh as he watches both of your juices start to drip out of you and onto his balls. you bring his fingers to your core; coating his middle and ring fingers in the mixture and bringing them to your lips. you pop them in your mouth, sucking them clean as you see taerae’s cock twitch at the sight. “you’re so fucking hot-- i can’t take it.”

taerae sticks his fingers back in your entrance; this time bringing the liquid to his own lips. he pops his fingers in his mouth, exhaling with satisfaction at the taste. taking you by the waist suddenly and flipping you onto your back, he folds your legs to your chest-- granting himself full access to your pussy. he looks at you; the hungriest you’ve seen him yet as his focus returns to your messy, throbbing cunt. you whimper as taerae husks, “gonna clean you up.”

so what if he's addicted?, you think as he dives in again.

so are you.

[sehodreams]

riize MTL to make you get on the phone with your boyfriend while they're plowing into your uterus and making your vision blackout with stars

TW and tags: cheating, fingering, p in v, drunk sex, toxic!ex!Seunghan, toxic!Eunseok, idk what else.

Sorry I got a little carried away with Eunseok and Seunghan haha I love Eunseok too much, I hope you like it anon!

Also, I'll be honest, this is not a MTL of who would do it, this is a MTL of who would be the most evil while doing it, and sorry for not writing for all of them, I just couldn't imagine the others idk why.

Most

Eunseok

Seunghan

Wonbin

Anton

Least

Eunseok

He doesn't want to be your boyfriend, but he doesn't like sharing you neither. You've been with your boyfriend for months already, but you had met Eunseok before you started your relationship, being just fuck buddies, and since he told you he didn't like relationships, you accepted to date the new boy, who was sweet and kind, while Eunseok ghosted you whenever he wanted, making you exhausted of his game.

So, if he was the one leaving, why would he always bother you coming back? He did the same thing once every two or three weeks, and you hated yourself because every time you felt he was about to come and see you, instead of getting angry, your pussy would get wet, the memory of him pounding your insides enough to get you like that, and that night was no different.

Your boyfriend had gone to a work trip, talking to you every night at the same hour to tell you about his day. You watched the clock, Eunseok was between your legs, drinking you like the beer he had before knocking your door, and when you were about to cum you remembered the phone call that would sound in less than 10 minutes, I can't, you told yourself, not because you felt bad cheating on your boyfriend, but because you knew Eunseok would fuck you for a lot longer and you wouldn't be able to talk.

Your phone lighted, showing your boyfriend's name in the screen, and you wanted to hide it, but Eunseok was faster and grabbed your phone before you could, accepting the call.

"Hi babe" your boyfriend said, and Eunseok, instead of leaving you alone to talk with him, inserted two of his fingers in your pussy, making it squelch, a sound you wished no one could hear through the phone.

"Hi" you answered how you could, then biting your lip to not let the noises come out of your mouth.

"You have no idea what happened today" he started to tell you everything, how his team almost messed up, how he fixed the problem, expecting you to tell him how proud you were, but you couldn't talk, your eyes were rolling and your lip was almost bleeding from the force you were using to not let a single cry come out of you while Eunseok played with you, showing you the cheekiest smile you had ever seen, making you horny and angry at the same time.

You tried to tell him to stop, pushing his hand away and shaking your head. He said an I don't want to silently, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you, and when you were shaking, almost cumming, he pulled them away.

You denied, how could he do that? When you were so close? The voice of your boyfriend kept talking in the background and Eunseok got closer to your ear, moving both your hands over your head and maintaining them with one of his, "babe, such a lame way to call you, doesn't he know you prefer being called slut?" Your pussy got tighter around nothing when he talked, and you tried to say no, but you couldn't form a single sentence, "if you're someone else's babe, I shouldn't fuck you, don't you think so?" You cried, head back to the pillow, tears blurring your vision, "or what are you?" He asked, slapping your pussy with his dick, the sound undoubtedly heard by your boyfriend. You shouldn't answer, you told yourself, he would heard you, but did you care enough? What was more important, to mantain your relationship or to get pounded by Eunseok? Such an easy choice "I'm your slut" you said, and he, smiling proud of you, pushed his dick into your cunt, which welcomed it with such a satisfaction it clenched around it immediately, feeling so good that you, happy to finally be fucked like you should, couldn't contain your moans anymore.

Seunghan

He was the best boyfriend anyone could have, so he always asked you, why did you decide to break up with him? He just couldn't understand what you said, that he flirted too much? He was just friendly. He never answered your calls if he went out partying? He couldn't hear it with the loud music. He fucked your best friend? He was just drunk and thought it was you.

Everything he did had an explanation, including the fact that, even when you broke up months ago and you had moved on with a new boyfriend, he had to see you every weekend to help you get off, it wasn't his fault that you decided to start a relationship with a guy that couldn't fuck you like he did.

It was the typical friday night and he was already in your room when you arrived from your date, "did he fuck you?" He asked when you closed your door. "Yeah, why?" You answered, making him smile and poke his cheek with his tongue, laughing at you, "well, you don't see happy enough" he replied. You denied with your head, tired of his shit, "Shut up and do your job".

He laughed loudly and pulled down the waistband of his joggers and his underwear, his hard cock bouncing as a result. You didn't waste a second and walked to him, kissing with need and moaning into his mouth.

Something you had to admit, and hated, it was that Seunghan was the best fuck you've ever had, not finding anyone good enough to make you feel like he did.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was so shameless, he didn't hesitate to go down on you, eating your cunt until you cried and pulled his hair, moaning into it when you hurt him, he also fucked you really good, he knew how to move, when to stop and when to rut into your hole, not being afraid of shoving his thumb on your ass.

Still, it was exactly that shameless side of him what made your actual dynamic possible, he didn't mind that you fucked other guys, because he knew you would always go back to him at the end, and he loved the way he didn't have to prepare you before he slided inside you, you dripping with the thought of him using you after the boy you were currently seeing.

And you couldn't deny it, you had no sense of shame neither, because when Seunghan pulled out your phone and scrolled through it, you'd continue moaning, perfectly knowing who was on the other side of the line.

Wonbin

When you needed to feel loved, you would call your boyfriend, when you needed some extra cash, you'd call your boyfriend, and when you needed to get fucked, you'd call Wonbin.

He liked that, he liked having the benefits of a relationship without spending his money and energy on you, he loved that you even sent him gifts with your boyfriend's money, and he loved the way you would receive him with open arms without any question.

When you were together you always wanted more and more, but after much pain and understanding that the first, second and third place on his heart would always be himself, you decided to find someone who appreciated you, however, he's Wonbin, it was impossible to forget him.

And Wonbin's such a bitch, he knows he shouldn't bother him, he pays his expensive gifts after all, but he likes to see your scared expression all the time, you trying to keep his identity as a secret was his favorite amusement, hear you lying to the poor boy telling him you were staying at your friend's house instead of with him always made him laugh, when you sent him your location so he knew were you were but not with who he smiled, and when you sent him pictures of your shopping spring without him knowing half of those bags were for Wonbin, he felt fucking horny.

So, it's only natural that he likes you to maintain your boyfriend content, obliging you to always answer his calls, even when you were together, and he wouldn't stop doing his work, fingering you or eating your pussy, whatever he was doing, he wouldn't stop, Wonbin liked to think it was his way of saying thank you to that boy too, because if he made his girlfriend happy, he'd be happy too, right?

Anton

This crybaby, he keeps going back to you because he loves you too much, and it hurts his heart to know you have a boyfriend, but he would rather share you than not have you at all.

Your phone ringing with him inside you distracted him, that unique ringtone always sent a shiver through his back because he knew who was calling, and he felt ashamed, but he loved you so much he couldn't help it, "Answer, and tell him you prefer me, I know you do", he'd say, stopping his movements so you could grab your phone, and then, perfectly knowing you'd never make his wish come true, listening to you talk to your boyfriend pretending you were tired or busy, out of dissapointment with himself for being so pathetic, he'd rut his hips into you harder, making you suffer to contain your moans, because if he was suffering, you'd do it too.

[blushweddinggowns]

“I know I have something clean in here!”

Eddie watched him, half amused and half exhausted. He leaned his head back against Steve’s bed, crossing his legs on the floor. He was dripping wet and freezing, impatiently waiting for Steve as he dug through his closet. He didn't know what he expected to find when ninety-nine percent of his clothes were on the floor of Eddie's room.

See, shit like this is why they always hang out at Eddie and Wayne's new place, instead of this certifiable mansion. Besides the fact that Steve liked to be as far from his house as possible, it took away some options for them to do dumb, impulsive shit. Like dragging each other into his pool, fully clothed at 2 am. 

In November. 

If it wasn't for the stupid fumigation at his apartment, they would be dry and asleep by now, or at least dry and giggling throughout the night. He also wouldn't be trying to think of an excuse to sleep in Steve’s bed, with all of these stupid guest rooms. It was so easy at his place, with its uncomfortable couch and shitty heater. It took almost nothing to convince Steve to sleep with him every night.

He sighed, shamelessly staring at Steve from behind and thanking the powers that be he decided to wear white tonight. He could make out all of the muscles in his back through the transparent fabric, cold water still dripping from his hair. He was too beautiful for his own good, or Eddie was just obsessed. 

Probably both. 

Maybe Eddie should use this as an opportunity to get used to being without him. This little game he was playing could only last so long after all.

He knew he was monopolizing Steve's time, like an ass, and he’d been doing it for months. Ever since he was out of the hospital, the two had been inseparable. No one even called Steve's house anymore, half the time when Eddie answered the phone it was Robin or one of the kids asking for Steve. 

There's yet to be a time when he wasn't there. 

Hell, even before that. The little saint had been there for every step of his recovery, bringing him books, music, and his own adorable self. His little crush on Steve had grown into a full-blown infatuation. He was all he could think about anymore. 

Steve was just so…him. Self-sacrificing, hilarious, disturbingly attractive, Eddie had been doomed from the start. Eddie became the one who picked Steve up from work and dropped him off, deciding that he deserved to be chauffeured around for a change. 

Steve became the one waiting for him at home from his dealings, cooking food for him and his uncle, always reassuring him that he wasn't a bad person and it was temporary, just until he had enough cash to leave this hellhole. He wasn't sure how he was ever going to leave without Steve, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Or he would just stay in a town that loathed him until Steve moved on with his life. 

Whatever came first. 

They just fell into each other, like they had been best friends all along. And maybe he was tricking himself, just building up a mountain of false hope, but from his view, Steve loved their time together just as much as Eddie did.

Steve had been the one to press himself against Eddie's chest on that first night, sleepily putting Eddie’s arm around him with a soft, "I'm cold."

Steve was the one who would spend hours laughing with Wayne on the couch, giggling at elementary school photos of Eddie and swapping stories, never shutting up about how cute he used to be. 

Steve was the one who wiped his tears away if he had night terrors, reliving almost dying over and over again in his dreams.

And Eddie couldn't help but push. 

It felt like he had to touch him all the time or he'd combust. Steve was touch-starved to hell and back, and Eddie took full advantage. An arm around his shoulders when they walked, a hand on his thigh when they drove, pinkies linked when they went to sleep. Steve leaned into it all, he never tried to push Eddie away, he'd only ever pull him closer. 

He rationalized it. If Steve ever told him no or to back off he would immediately but…he just hasn't. 

Besides, Eddie almost fucking died to save the world, he could indulge in some self-destructive behavior a little bit here and there, even if it would lead to the worst heartbreak of his life. 

Eddie shifted, trying to get comfortable but there was something digging in his back. He reached behind, pulling at whatever was poking him under the mattress. It was some wadded-up denim, shoved right under the edge of Steve's bed. A question was already on his lips as he unwrapped it, dying when he realized what it was. 

It was the vest from the Upside Down. Steve had told him it was unsalvageable months ago and Eddie had believed him, even if it made him a little sad. He had loved that thing.

But here it was, washed and only partially stained with the remnants of Steve’s blood and the general muck of the Upside Down.  Why did he still have this? Why did he lie?

Steve turned as Eddie stared at it, a yellow sweatshirt in hand and a pleased smile on his face. Eddie doesn't think he's ever seen Steve’s smile drop so quickly. He was kneeling in front of him in an instant, snatching the vest from Eddie’s hands with trembling fingers. He clutched it against his chest, looking absolutely mortified. 

“I can explain.” 

“You kept it?”

“I-I’m not a creep, really! It just helped me sleep when you were in the hospital and it became this stupid habit and I should have told you- ” 

Steve’s face was on fire and he was talking a mile a minute, his voice shaking. Eddie just looked at him, stupified as Steve desperately tried to explain why he was cuddling with a ratty piece of Eddie’s clothing.

“I was gonna give it back," Steve held it tighter against him, like the thought of parting with it physically hurt, "I swear! but you just wouldn't wake up at first and I needed something-" 

Eddie’s eyes traveled down, landing on his lips, his self-control evaporating with every stuttered word out of Steve’s mouth. 

“A-and I shouldn't have lied, I can give it back, really, I didn-” 

“Steve, I’m going to kiss you now.”

“I-what?"

Eddie didn’t wait, couldn't wait, and Steve was so close, looking irresistibly embarrassed. Eddie grabbed behind his neck and pulled him down to his level, pressing their lips together before he could question himself. 

Steve was kissing him back before he could even think to regret it. He melted against him, letting the vest drop down in between them. Steve sighed against his lips, resting his hands on Eddie's shoulders to steady himself. Eddie pulled away first, half to double check that this was okay and half to try to will his erection away so Steve could sit in his lap.

Steve looked down at him with dazed eyes, his lips wet with Eddie’s spit. He watched with rapt attention when Steve licked at it, closing his eyes with a pleased hum, like he just loved the taste.

God, he was going to give him a heart attack. 

They grinned at each other like idiots, Steve finally breaking the comfortable silence with a shy smile, "Does this mean I get to keep it?"