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naffeclipse · 9 months

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I'm honored to reveal that I'm @darthsuki's secret Santa for the DCASS2023 event! When I saw that Howl's Moving Castle was one of the movies you love, I was immediately possessed by this AU for the DCA! I had so much fun crafting this fic along with Eclipse, Sun, and Moon reimagined in such a setting, and, of course, the reader! There is so much fluff and romance; I hope that's alright! Please enjoy!

Eclipse's Moving Daycare

Eclipse & Sun & Moon x Reader (SFW)

You can also read this fic on AO3!

Word Count: ~5,500 Warnings: N/A

In the heart of the castle-like structure, smoothly crawling over the snowy mountain peak with bending, robotic appendages that sink claws into the fresh, cold powder, is a room alight by a fire demon. The creaking and grumbling of the house have long since faded into a familiar drone in the background of your senses. A few candles burn and flicker, dripping hot, white wax. The main source of light, in the late hour on a blistering cold night, emits from Sun in golden radiance.

You stand over the fireplace. It holds a small cauldron upon its embers. Water bubbles and pops with gentle wisps of steam rising, rising up into the chimney. Behind you, the great light of the room begins to shift, shadows leaning away from the approaching presence.

“What is my darling brewing tonight?” The fire demon saunters close behind you. Sun’s voice brushes against your ear, flickering with life so powerful, it only leaves ash in its wake. The heat sinks into your back—a soothing reprise from the chill circling the moving daycare. “Could I be of assistance to your crafting?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind, Sunny,” you say softly.

You turn around to face him, almost squinting your eyes against his brilliance. The fire demon flickers with flames, set soft and low in a gentle yellow light. The energy burns over a body of deep, dark charcoal and embers. Red pulses in between the burnt aspects. His head, large and flat like a disk, flickers with a great grin. The very pale center of his eyes holds a blue tint not unlike the very tips of great flames. A crown of red fire circles his face, and you marvel how he has never once burned you—part of his magic, of course. He decides when and who shall be scorched.

“Oh, you haven’t answered me yet.” He looms over you, the fey-being easily entering your space in the way smoke fills the air. “Is it a special potion? Perhaps a liquid that would set itself on fire should someone sing a sour note? Or a drink for trees that allow them to become ready fuel, set to torch the mountainside for a bit of warmth on this dreary winter day?”

You smile. When does he not suggest you concoct some sort of fiery potion? You certainly don’t recall. The fire demon is what he is.

“Neither,” you answer and strip a thorny branch of herb, dried and well preserved, of its flat fronds. You turn away to toss them into the cauldron. “It’s soup.”

The light of the room dims in the briefest moment before flaring with fresh vigor. Dancing heat becomes almost sweltering at your back before a hot hand slips around your waist, wrapping you up in a cozy embrace. Your eyes flutter when Sun’s mouth presses to your shoulder, sharp teeth grazing your skin exposed by the stretched neckline of your tunic.

“We’ll save the pyromania for later, but soup! Yes, that would warm you and Moon and Eclipse.”

“And you.” You hold up the thin dry branch, as he likes it, to the fire demon’s mouth. “I’ll make it for all of us.”

“Oh, I don’t do well with soup. Too watery for my taste,” he says mournfully.

You watch a lick of flame wrap around the branch and pull it into his mouth, leaving your hand empty. His jaw bumps slightly against your shoulder as he chews, fire splitting and cracking the fuel over his tongue. He swallows and the light grows brighter around you. For a moment, you swear you understand what a candle wick feels like sitting in all that great light. He holds you tighter.

“I will make it so you can consume it, too,” you say, and pat his arm as it hugs your waist. The flames flatten underneath your palm, whipping and flaring at your presence, but never biting. A bit of soot smears across your hand. “Now let me get the rest of the ingredients. You’re holding me captive, love!”

He laughs with the boisterous gale of a bonfire. “How else am I supposed to keep you safe on a freezing night such as this!”

“I’m plenty safe with you here, and I’m in need of soup.” You turn your head to catch his twin flame eyes.

When he lets you go, he does so with a smoking sigh as if you intend to leave the moving daycare rather than simply his embrace. You keep your smile to yourself at his theatrics. He remains before the cauldron as you search a few cupboards, gathering several spices, herbs, and a few bits to toss into the soup. You turn to the kitchen counter, the wood rich brown and well worn with your work.

In a few moments, the great cold of the night has taken hold and your shoulders shiver. Setting the glass jars down, you breathe in a rattling breath. It’s getting worse outside. Over the quiet motions of the building shuffling along is the great howl of wind.

You must hurry with the soup. Eclipse will be home soon.

Taking a few ingredients, you turn back around only to be greeted with a fire in your face. Sun grins, the blue in his eyes dancing brightly. You almost drop the spices in your startle.

“Poor thing, you’re shivering! Allow me to warm you up.” The fire demon coos impishly before taking you by the hand. His warmth laces between your fingers. Your other arm is crooked, cradling the glass jars as Sun lays his hand on your waist, and in the fashion of a waltz, spins you the short distance back to the cauldron.

You gasp, pressed tight to his body with little but spice containers between your heart and the deep red pulsing in the fire demon’s chest. The small clinks of glass echo like notes to the movement of the song Sun carries you along to with his swift steps. His crown of flames waver in excitement, snapping and flickering. He sets you down for a moment.

“Oh, you’re already so pink!” He touches your cheek with hot fingertips before slipping away the spices with a small flick of his hand, magically tugging the jars from your grasp and setting them on the edge of the fireplace. You sputter, head spinning in his fiery whirlwind. “There! Aren’t you toasty?”

“Sun!” you laugh. You lay your hands on his chest as he gathers you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. His heat seeps deep into your body, chasing away the awful chill. “I am making us soup! Let me go, you fiery fiend!”

“Ah, but how can I? You’ve bewitched me.” He twists you around—much to your amusement and surprise, dipping you low as you cling to his shoulders. “My darling, I simply can’t let you grow cold for even a breath.”

You melt like mountaintop snow in spring, his pale, lovely gaze burning with intent so promising. You become warm—not of body, but of soul. Slowly, softly, you find his mouth hungrily reaching. You answer with a soft, chaste press of your lips upon his fire, closing your eyes. The light glows through your thin eyelids, sparking blue at the edges in the center of deep, passionate gold. He has never burned you. He never will.

The light increases until it becomes as bright as noon in summer—as bright as his name.

He brings you back to your feet in a careful rise though his hands have yet to unlock from your waist. The distant boiling of the cauldron sends you back to your senses before you lift your head. You gaze adoringly at the fire demon, tasting cedar-turned-ash on your tongue. Reaching with one hand, you run a few fingers through the brightness of his head flames, now tinged with blue at the very tips.

Oh, he’s satisfied.

“I am making soup, and you can’t seduce me away,” you say firmly, before pecking his fiery mouth once more. His teeth almost catch your bottom lip but you manage to slip away.

“But I’m already starving!” He half cries, placing one arm across his forehead in a swoon-worthy of the theater. “If you leave, I will vanish into smoke and soot!”

You reach up into a cupboard dusted with black powder and snatch up one lump of coal, small enough to eat in one bite, and turn around. You promptly set it into Sun’s mouth. His wail is muffled by the press of your fingertips until he begins chewing with a rather disgruntled look. The blue in his eyes pales slightly.

“I’m glad to see you have an appetite.” You smile. “Save the rest for soup.”

The heat lingering in your fingers is warm and tingly. You quickly snatch up a small wicker basket from the counter. The yellow light of the fire demon follows at your back as you make your way across the large living space, the cold quickly returning. Then, you enter a long hallway.

“Stay here,” you call over your shoulder, “I need to fetch a few things from Moon’s room and he doesn’t like you in there.”

A protest around a mouthful follows but you’ve already knocked and quietly opened the door, the room thick with darkness, before shutting it behind you. The fire demon is left in the heat of the living space.

You stand in Moon’s room. The clotting blackness hangs like a mist around your shoulders. You squint into the dark collection of shelves and small comforts, such as loveseats and chaise lounges and of course, several beds shoved up against the wall. You’re not certain if he sleeps in any one of the furnishings—if he sleeps at all.

“Moon?” you call out softly.

The nightly shade shifts in the slightest. Tendrils of shadow creep around you, waving like the petals of a flower before you feel a hand slip over your hip from behind and another hook under your jaw to take your chin.

“Hello, jewel,” he rasps low in your ear. A cool but pleasant shudder falls down your spine.

“Hello, scarecrow.” You allow him to tug you around to face his shadowy visage, his hand caressing your cheek as you gaze up at the fey-being. “Might I get into the food storage? I need beef and potatoes along with a few other vegetables.

His eyes, round as moons and pale red, drink you in. Underneath the brim of an old, sun-bleach straw hat that he stole from a scarecrow, the shadow demon tilts his head to an unnatural degree. A curve of silver light flashes across half of his face, like a coin winking under midnight light.

“Of course.” His body stretches slightly, thin and elongated, like darkness at sunset. A few inky colors of red flare out around his neck and waist, the cold energy wavering about him, before his hands hook into your hips. You gasp once when he effortlessly lifts you off your feet and carries you to a chaise lounge dyed a deep ocean blue.

Your eyes slowly adjust to the stark dimness when he sets you down. He kneels to sweep your ankles up and lay your legs across the couch.

“Moon, I need to get a few things,” you remind gently.

“I’m aware.” He, in a blink of darkness, has your basket in his hand where it swings slightly from side to side. His smile flashes with teeth reflecting a bony color. “Stay here.”

“If you insist,” you give with a chuckle. You lean back until you’re reclined on the cushy backrest, feeling much too elegant for someone who still has potion stains on their apron. “It’s dark now. You can come out. Sun is in the living space with me, helping me cook.”

“ Helping ,” the shadow demon echoes incredulously.

You snicker.

“Yes, he is, and I need your help as well.”

Moon slips into the darker corner that your weak human eyes can’t decipher. Soft rummaging echoes. The storage space is under a hatch in this room, and seeing as it was already so dark behind, Eclipse allows Moon to claim it as his own—provided that Moon allows you access to whatever ingredients you require when you are in need.

You can’t think about Sun’s room without wincing at the amount of ash, gold relics, half-burnt walls, and little fires no doubt still running rampant in there. Eclipse placed a clever spell to keep it from spreading to the rest of the rooms and daycare.

The darkness moves as if ripples in water. You try to peer at a few dolls nestled onto a top shelf above one of the beds, their visage adorned with bows and curls but the strange distortion carries across the room. They must be for when there are children in the daycare again. Moon does love to give gifts to the little ones.

Then, a quiet sound of a wicker basket touching the floor. You jump before registering the slow blink of pale red eyes before you. At the end of the chaise lounge, Moon begins to creep forward. One hand follows the other, sliding along your legs and up your hips before one grabs onto the top of the backrest and the other reaches for your face. He hovers above you like a vulture in the sky.

The shadow demon brushes his thumb over your lips. The cool caress causes you to shiver but not from the cold.

You stay motionless. He hums a low sound; the beginning of a lullaby. He lays a soft touch of a cool knuckle over your cheek.

“Did you get what I ask?” you murmur, distracted by how he strokes the shell of your ear with soothing motions.

“Yes,” he grumbles. You’re glad he can see much better in the dark than you.

“Thank you.” You grin up at him. “Help me make soup, won’t you?”

You slide out from under his shadow. Back onto your feet, you hook the handle of the basket, now heavy with ingredients. You straighten only to find Moon’s sharp teeth curved into a wicked smile before you. In a split second, he pecks your mouth with a rush of midnight cool air and syrup-sweet darkness. You blink.

“You’re welcome.”

You stop him before his form can melt into the darkness. Snatching his wrist as he attempts to slip between your fingers, you step closer. The shadow demon makes a low sound of surprise. You grin as you press forward on your tippy toes into the darkness to find what you hope is his mouth—it often disappears in his face when he’s not actively showing his teeth. You kiss a smooth, satin-soft cheek.

“There, a proper kiss,” you murmur, falling back onto the fall of your feet.

A low, husky breath disagrees. Shadowy coils slip over your arms and your waist, creeping higher and higher until one hangs around your throat like an onyx necklace. The familiar and comforting weight of his embrace encircles you completely.

“No,” the entire darkness seems to whisper in Moon’s rasp, “Let me show you a proper kiss.”

A dark finger tilts your chin up. You find his eyes as ghostly as red moons hanging above you, bathing you in unholy light. Moon hums softly. He lowers his mouth, teeth sharp but yearning, onto yours.

Cool and gentle, the shadow demon tastes your mouth. He presses to your lips in a silent declaration of fondness so sweet, it stains your tongue. His shadowy tendrils softly tightens around you in a tender crush of affection. A little nibble along your bottom lip teases his dangerous jaws, but you only gasp softly, pleased.

He releases you, unwinding from around you to slip behind your back. You, in a near daze, press towards the door and push it open. A soft hiss at the candlelight aggravates Moon for a moment before he adjusts and slithers into the living space. You catch your breath. Sun stands before the cauldron, feeding it logs but leaving it scorched with marks in the shape of his hands.

“Oh, Moon!” Sun turns around with a sharp clap of his hands. Moon hisses when his golden flames spread their light, eating away at the heavy pools of shadow at Moon’s feet. “You have been held up in that dreary room all day! Some company will do your shadows some good.”

“Ease your light,” Moon growls then slinks to a corner near the dark window overlooking the mountain peak. Pale red eyes glare before Sun inclines his head with a mischievous glint, but draws down his flames to a deep orange simmer over his charcoal body.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Sun asks with a much gentler tone.

“Yes,” Moon mutters but eases, the coils of shadows at his feet twisting with a relaxed aspect. “Are you going to sit with us while we dine?”

“Sit? I’m going to dine with you—I’m afraid I haven’t been given a choice!” Sun drops against your shoulder—a feat that would otherwise push you to the ground if he wasn’t holding himself back while maintaining the illusion of slumping over you. His hand immediately takes your own and squeezes it. “Our darling potion maker insists the only options are to starve or eat soup!”

“How can you eat soup?” Moon asks in a curious rasp. His straw hat swivels slightly to focus on you. Playfully, you roll your eyes and reach out to take a small stack of bowls from the cupboard.

There’s so little difference between cooking and the science of potion making, you’ve found.

“Are these doubts for my craft I hear?” you question.

Two sharp objections follow one loud and crackling, the other low and gravelly, causing you to laugh and break away from what was supposed to be a stern facade.

“Good. I won’t hear any more complaints then.” You pat Sun’s cheek though you weren’t certain what part of him you’d end up touching. He’s still hanging onto you with the clinginess of a burr. You fish within the basket to snatch up a paper-wrapped and chilled pound of beef.

“Sun?” You hold up the meat, “If you don’t mind?”

“It would be my pleasure, darling!” He snatches it up, his flames immediately eating away the paper concealing it. He cradles the meat in his palms. You feel his heat shift, concentrating to a steady and low red crackle in the black coals of his hands.

“Please remember to not burn it.” You turn away to search for a sharp knife in the drawers and withdraw one. Sun’s light sheds much-needed aid over the drawers.

“I would never! Well, maybe a little, to make sure it’s cooked and blackened as it crumbles to ash—”

“Sunny.”

“Yes. Not burnt. As you wish.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The light flares for a moment, brighter and brighter, before calming down for poor Moon’s sake. He hisses once. Sun flashes a cheeky grin.

You smile as you turn around, only to jump slightly when Moon is already standing before you, reaching out to take the knife. His half-silver face, reflecting even sharper in Sun’s light, winks. His pale red eyes stare into your own. You shiver in his presence, caught between a revolving world of hot and cold.

“Potatoes, celery, and carrots, Moon, if you don’t mind,” you ask softly.

“Of course,” he answers in a murmur and takes the basket away to work on the opposite end of the counter. You study the kitchen for a moment, pleased.

Moon and Sun both hum a low song they both seem to know. A lullaby of fey beings, you suppose.

Now, you’re missing someone.

A soft woosh sounds outside, right on time. You jump slightly when a metal clank follows as if you haven’t heard his arrival a hundred times.

“Please continue what you’re doing,” you say while dusting your hands on your apron. You rush for the stairs. “Eclipse and I will help when we return.”

“I hope the buzzard isn’t freezing to death,” Sun exclaims, “It’s a brutal night in the cold.”

“He shouldn’t have left,” Moon mutters in an ominous but concerned tone.

You don’t stop to answer them both as you take two steps at a time. He was gone all day. Your heart has been wrung like wet laundry before being hung out to dry. The fool—the wonderful fool.

The howl of the wind grows as you near the outside of the moving daycare. The top of the stairs leads into a long hallway, doors branching off to yours, Eclipse’s, and Sun’s rooms, but you continue forward until you reach the end. There, you push open two frosty glass doors to see who stands on the balcony but Eclipse himself.

The wizard of the moving daycare. The balcony is dusted in snow and the metal gate separating you and him from a severe drop down the mountain face is dark and wrought. You sweep your gaze over him from head to toe and wingtip to wingtip until you’re satisfied. He’s back in one piece.

His wings are intricate mechanisms of bronze and black iron that click softly as gears whirl within the joints and settle at his back. Deep and dark feathers cover the internal workings of the frame, but sometimes, you can catch a metallic glint when he shifts just slightly. A deep red hat, pointy and rumbled, sits upon his disk-like head with bursts of yellow in the fabric. His expression is carved into two—one bright and sunny, the other lunar and dark. His eyes flash, two-toned with yellow and red, upturn in relief. Tall, even taller than Moon and Sun, he bears a willowy aspect in his white shirt and dark trousers. Robotic arms softly click with his movement.

“Eclipse, you’re back,” you say softly. Your breath mists the cruel wind and fierce cold of the mountaintop. You immediately hug yourself, the thin sleeves of your tunic doing little against the blizzard.

“Hello, dearest. I’m terribly sorry for being away all day.” He opens his arms wide. His wings flutter, clicking and clunking with thick sweeps of dark feathers. The electric glow of his eyes softens. “I missed you.”

You run into his arms. Catching you as if you were falling, Eclipse spins you around once before spreading his wings. His plumage falls over you with a gentle breeze and all at once, the wind howls and the bitter cold dies. It is you and him, again.

“Did you find any children in need?” you ask against his chest. He’s terribly cold but you don’t mind as you rest your cheek on his wind-tugged shirt.

“I did. We should make it to the village in two days.” His fingertips stroke the back of your hair, softly scratching against your scalp in a way that lulls you into forgetting every dangerous and terrible thing that could take your loved ones away.

“That’s wonderful.” You press your smile against the metallic plates of his chest. “I’m so glad you came back safe and sound.”

“As I am. Oh! How’s our family?” he asks.

“Sun has missed playing with the children and Moon has more dolls to give away. They were worried about you. Both are helping me make soup.”

“ Helping ? Oh, I’m afraid to see what they’ve done!”

“All three of you are the same,” you snicker, “believing you can’t help me when that’s what all three of you do!”

“Hm, dearest, I don’t believe you understand.” Eclipse’s feathers ruffle when he leans low to press his forehead against your own—the frigid metal sends a great shiver down your back. His eyes glow as soft as starlight. “You are the one who keeps our heads on our shoulders. Without you, Sun would still be running away from angry villagers, Moon would still be trapped to that scarecrow pole, and I… well, I shouldn’t have to tell you how lost I’d be without you.”

His hand takes your own and gently lays it over his chest. Underneath your palm through the fabric of his shirt, a great thrum of a machine pulsates with timed clicks as quiet as a clock. His bronze and geared heart. You did put it back in his chest.

“Both can be true,” you whisper. You close your eyes. “You and Sun and Moon mean so much to me.”

The alternative is desolate. The vision behind your eyelids is sad and abandoned, a little rundown shack in the middle of dirt and rocks, and you, all alone, believing that’s what you deserved for so long. None of your potions would cure you of this wretched existence. You sunk into the numbness.

Until one day a wizard with wings swept by in his moving daycare, cruel and cursed until you found his bronze heart. Then along his adventures, you discovered a fire demon in need of fuel and comfort from running, and a poor shadow demon cursed to be blistered by the sun in his stationary pose, begging for aid and a kind hand.

You found your family, and you found you deserve their love, too.

“We know.” He draws back slightly. Squeezing your hand tenderly, Eclipse holds your gaze with the softness of a gentle night and the hope of rest. “We might not believe it, but we know.”

Despite the freezing temperatures, your heart melts inside your chest. A deep flush heats your cheeks. You wrap your arm around his waist and duck slightly to hide your face.

“Come in before your joints freeze,” you gently insist. Eclipse allows you to drag him inside before he flicks a metallic finger. The door shuts away the brutal winds and the screaming rush. You, at last, sigh, much more content to linger in the slightly warmer hallway and feel his feathers and arms become less frigid, easing your concern.

“Ah, that is immensely better,” Eclipse hums.

He shifts, allowing his wings to lift and tuck behind his back. The beautiful feathers catch on the bit of firelight cast up the stairs, no doubt from Sun’s determined will to cook the meat without burning it. Distant chops of a knife against wood echo in rhythmic knocks, sounding of Moon tending to the vegetables.

“Next time, wait until after the storm, won’t you?” You fix his shirt so that it doesn’t fall so low down his chest—not that you don’t mind the intricate design of his bronze and steel frame, but you do intend to feed him a civilized meal. “I had worried I would have to send Moon to fetch you then thaw you out in Sun’s fire.”

“I apologize again, my dearest heart.” He bends low to cup your cheeks in his cold hands. You shiver once, eyelids trembling. In gentle regret, he strokes your cheekbones. “You worry too much, but I do adore how much you think of me.”

You glance away, frowning. Of course, you think of him and Moon and Sun too much for your own sanity, but how could you not? They’ve captivated you wholly.

He leans closer, drawing your eyes back to his mournful expression. The brim of his deep red hat almost touches your hair.

“Forgive me?” he breathes.

You slowly reach up to cover his hands, rubbing your thumb over the delicate yet strong design of his metallic wrists. The sleeves of his loose shirt are beginning to warm, too.

“I forgive you, always.” You press under the intimate shade of his wizard hat, and Eclipse stills at your smile. “I missed you, too.”

Before he can answer in relief, you lay your lips upon his face plate, over the grin that mystically shifts about his expression as if he were human and not a machine. A taste of the sweet crispiness of apples and the chilly darkness of twilight slips into your mouth. The large hands that cradle your face softly spasm once. Eclipse then captures you, pulling you deeper against him as the teeth of gears and the tangy metal of his mouth give into your affections entirely. Feathers flap softly, and you are concealed in the eclipse of his wings.

He allows you to break briefly away to breathe—he once took your kiss for so long that you fainted in his arms (for which he never stopped apologizing)—and the living hum in his body harmonizes with the great pulse in your chest.

“There,” you murmur. You look up into the wizard’s gaze and how much he’s softened in your embrace. “Come downstairs and let’s eat.”

Eclipse taps your bottom lip once before straightening. A black feather slips from his back but you catch it beside his shoulder before it can slip to the ground. You carefully tuck it into your apron pocket. His eyes upturn into crescents.

“Lead the way, dearest.”

You take him down and into the warm, bright living space, cast in comfortable shadows. The scent of cooking meat causes your mouth to salivate. Eclipse’s wings relax when he views the sight. Moon and Sun lift their heads from their tasks and greet Eclipse with gladness and relief. Their family member is back safe.

“Did you find any children?” Moon rasps low but his eyes wink with piqued interest.

“Yes, several. They’ll need our help once the daycare arrives in a village in two day’s time,” Eclipse nods.

Moon and Sun exchange wide looks of excitement. The shadows below the dark demon stir and flicker. In contrast, the fire demon’s body burns brighter.

“Eclipse, won’t you gather my tiger’s chaudron jar?” you ask with a soft squeeze of your hand around his, “Be very careful. It’s temperament and might fizz and overflow if it's upset.”

“He’s helping with the food?” Sun mocks a great gasp of incredulousness. “I was under the impression you wanted to eat tonight!”

“Oh, stop it, you,” you chastise before leaning over the table to press a kiss to his hot cheek. Straightening, you release Eclipse’s hand to stand close behind Moon and slide your hand over his arm to gather a few chunks of potato he’s cut for you. “Thank you, dollface. Here, let me take these to the cauldron.”

“I will do my best,” Eclipse promises in amusement before flitting back upstairs with a soft breeze under his wings.

“Oh, he’s far too cold. I can feel how much heat he’s lacking,” Sun chitters in that rapid-fire concern of his. You silently direct him to add the meat to the cauldron.

“You’ll sit beside him while we eat, won’t you?” you plead softly. Nabbing a wooden spoon, you begin to stir the contents. Sun wraps an arm around your waist and presses his blissful warmth against your side.

“If he won’t mention anything about me setting his wings on fire—which was once, mind you!”

Moon snickers. You press a hand over your mouth to stop a chuckle.

“Yes, I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” you nod. “Moon, can you bring the rest of the vegetables?”

He slips behind you silently. When you turn your head to find him, you jump slightly at how little distance is between you and his dark form. Smiling wide, he reaches a hand over your shoulder and plops the remaining carrots and celery in.

“Oh. Thank you.” You quickly catch his chin and plant a kiss against his cool, smoky jawline. Moon becomes still as night. His eyes gleam with quiet delight before he slips his hand under your elbow and begins softly caressing his long, inky fingers along the sensitive underside of your arm while you stir.

A gentle ruffle of feathers glides in behind you. Before you can turn your hand and break away from the two demons, metallic arms slide over your shoulders and gingerly uncap one of your potion jars. A green clump of flowers falls into the cauldron. The concoction briefly throws small emerald flames about the surface—the key ingredient to allow Sun to consume it, as well as providing a slight spice to the dish. It will feed you all.

Eclipse’s hand withdraws only for a moment before reappearing to gently slide underneath your jaw and trace the bone tenderly. The familiar presence of the wizard with his chin resting on the crown of your head warms you, and you sigh softly.

Surrounded by fey beings and their great powers, they attach to your presence as if you were a great sorcerer and not a humble potion maker. Their hands warm and cool you. Their bodies softly press against your ribs and spine. They don’t mind sharing.

You have your family, and they have you.

You take out the spoon with one satisfied tap against the rim of the cauldron.

“Soup’s ready, my sweethearts.”

#DCASS23 #darthsuki #eclipse x reader #moon x reader #sun x reader #eclipse's moving daycare #Merry Christmas from an automaton angel #a scarecrow demon #and a fiery pyromaniac!#ao3 link

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holylulusworld · 9 months

Text

Peacock

Summary: It's your birthday and you end up eating alone.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: angst, trust issues, abandonment, Ransom being a douche, unrequited feelings, being lonely during birthday/Christmas, having the blues,

A/N: This is the alternative version of Dinner for one. I decided to turn it into a story too but with a different ending.

Written for: Winter Break Advent: Day 22 – Quote: "We click. There aren't that many people that you just 'click' with; and when you find those people, you don't just let them go."

“Anything else, sweetie,” the elderly waitress at your favorite café asks. Her name is Dolores, and she’s always kind. She knows it’s your birthday and brought you a cupcake with a burning candle for free. “Happy birthday.”

She watches you glance at the cupcake. You sniffle and try not to cry. This stranger showed more interest in you and your birthday than anyone else in your life.

“Thank you,” is all you get out. You blow the candle out, wishing for nothing but to not feel the aching in your chest any longer. “That’s so kind of you.”

“Don’t sweat it, sweetie. You’re my best and favorite customer,” she smiles and refills your cup. “Chamomile, your favorite.”

“Again, thank you,” you fake a smile. She’s so kind, and you don’t want to be ungrateful. “This made my day.”

“I’ll bring you your order later. Eat the cupcake and remember, not all days are bad. One day the sun will shine for all of us again.”

Damn her, she read you like a book. “I guess,” you drop your eyes and look at the cupcake again. “It just doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It will,” she insists and walks off, whistling a tune.

“Maybe—” you swallow thickly when the man you had hoped to never see again waltzes into the café, smirking like nothing has changed. He holds the door open for two girls, and two of his buddies. “Why?”

This can’t be. Today out of all days he had to come here. Your favorite café. Ransom always hated it and now he’s here, on your birthday after he broke your heart.

He straightens his hair and puffs his chest. Showing off his expensive coat and the scarf you bought him for his birthday. He looks like a peacock wanting to impress the ladies. You giggle as he looks stupidly handsome and like an idiot at the same time.

His eyes dart from the table the waitress orders toward your table. For a moment, it looks like he stiffens when his eyes meet yours. He clears his throat, and turns away, acting like he didn’t see you sitting alone at the table.

“Hey, Ransom,” one of his buddies punches his upper arm, “isn’t that the mouse you dated some months ago?” The guy points at your table. You try to ignore him, and the girls looking in your direction.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Ransom snaps at his friend, adding another crack to your fragile heart. He can’t even admit that he used to date you. “I don’t date girls like her.”

“Dude, it’s her,” the other man insists. “I remember the pout and her mousish behavior. I bet she must be a bomb in the bedroom, if not you wouldn’t keep a girl like her around.”

“Listen, I don’t know that woman. Can we eat now, or do you want to ask me if I dated half of the people at the café,” Ransom gets louder, making you flinch.

He seems to be embarrassed by his friend’s question. Of course, he’s ashamed of dating you. You’re not one of his wealthy buddies or the spoiled girls hanging on his every word.

You exhale sharply as he continues to explain that he would never date someone like you. He even makes fun of the sweater you’re wearing. Even though he told you he found it cute not so long ago.

Self-cautiously you look down on your body, regretting that you decided to wear your favorite blue sweater with snowflakes today. You try to look away, or not listen to their words, but it’s impossible to not see Ransom staring your way.

“Sweetie, I got you birthday cake,” right when you want to flee out of the café, the waitress returns with three of her colleagues. They start singing Happy Birthday, and the lump in your throat grows.

The guests at the café get up to join the waitresses. They sing Happy Birthday and clap their hands, making things worse for you.

Ransom and his friends get up too, laughing and joking as they pretend to sing with the other people. You’re close to running out of the café and leaving town to forget about this awful birthday.

A few weeks ago, you were in love and believed you’d spend your birthday with Ransom.

Now you are in the same room, but miles apart.

You’re living in different worlds, and this will never change. He’s got a huge trust fund, and you struggle to make ends meet sometimes. When you met Ransom he knew that you still got to pay back your study loan.

“That’s,” your voice cracks when they place a birthday cake in front of you. “Very nice. I-I’m overwhelmed.”

“I hope you enjoy your cake,” one of the waitresses sing-songs. She smiles, and hands you a fork. “It’s a red velvet cake. Your favorite.”

People sit back down and finally turn their attention toward their lives. You release a shuddery breath as the waitresses and some guests expectantly look at you. “That’s a beautiful cake,” you sniff. “But I already got the cupcake.”

“It’s a gift from one of the customers,” Dolores whispers. “We got instructions to serve you the cake when you come here today.”

“What? I don’t understand. Why would anyone buy a cake for me? I don’t know many people in town.”

“Well sweetie, he must be wealthy,” the waitress from earlier giggles. “This is the most expensive cake and he wanted extras. Just enjoy.”

“I rather not,” you doubt whoever bought the cake wanted to be nice. Gifts always come at a price. And you are not willing to be in anyone’s debt. “Can you take it back? Maybe tell the person who ordered the cake for me they can eat it.”

“Sorry, no returns,” she coos and points at the cake. “Dig in, miss. It’s free and very delicious. Look, the cook used leaf gold for the decoration. You don’t want us to throw it away, right?”

“No.” You hate this. All of it. Someone bought you a cake and expects you to eat it, just like the waitresses. “I’ll try it later.”

“She still got the cupcake. Maybe she can take the cake home,” Dolores jumps in. She offers to put the cake in a box for you to take the cake home. “Right, sweetie. You will take it home.”

Dolores tells the others to go back to work. She gives you a sympathetic look and walks away to get the box.

You shift in your seat and try to focus on the cupcake and your now cold tea. It’s not how you imagined spending your birthday but it’s better than to hide at your apartment and think about Ransom, and your breakup.

Ransom watches you eat the cupcake. He frowns as Dolores puts the cake in a box. You don’t look his way any longer. You finish your cupcake and drink your tea. When you get up to leave, you thank Dolores and reluctantly take the box with the cake.

It takes all of your strength, but you manage to pass Ransom’s table by and not look at him. You exhale sharply as one of his friends calls you mouse and cups his crotch.

“Y/N, open the door!” Ransom is fuming outside of your apartment. “Why did you refuse to eat the cake I ordered for you? I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Like bringing these people to our place? How could you, Ran? How?” You sniffle. “You walked around the café I showed to you like a peacock to impress these women. Why did you come to the café? And why did you buy the cake?”

“Babycakes,” he sighs deeply. “I’m…we…I let their words get to me. I was a fool to believe I could spend a day without you.”

“You laughed about me at the café!”

“Please let me in,” he pleads. “I came to the café to talk to you, knowing you’ll be there. Frankie and the others waited outside. I must’ve talked about this place, and they wanted to try it out. I’m sorry for their behavior.”

“Just go away, and take that cake with you,” you open the door to push the box with cake into his hands. “We are done, just like you said.”

“I said we should take a break to think about our relationship,” he looks at the box in his hands. “I got scared, Y/N. You know that I have commitment issues and trust issues. But…I wanna get better.”

“You want to hurt me even more to make fun of me with your friends,” you sniff. “I’m done with people walking all over me. I won’t have it.”

“Please don’t give up on me, Y/N. I’m not the best boyfriend and I got flaws but…” He shrugs. “We click. There aren't that many people that you just 'click' with; and when you find those people, you don't just let them go.”

“You let me go,” you tap your heart. “You broke my heart and now you stand on my doorstep asking me to take you back?”

“If you can forgive me, I promise to heal your heart…”

You take the cake out of his hands and jerk your head toward the door. “I’ll eat the cake, and maybe, I’ll call you. For now, I want you to leave me alone.”

Tags in reblog.

#ransom drysdale #winterbreakadvent2324 #winter break advent 2023 2024 #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #angst

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uzumaki-rebellion · 2 years

Text

“The Offering” Part 1 of 3 (A Namor of Talokan Fic)

My first Namor story! Masterlist HERE.

Summary:

A young Wakandan woman attends an annual Mama Wati celebration to honor the sea spirit and surf with friends. She encounters a strange man in the ocean who claims to be from a land as powerful as hers. A man who calls himself, Namor.

NSFW. Smut. 18+. (7,330 words) Namor x Black Female OC

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"You're ruling the way that I move And I breathe your air You only can rescue me This is my prayer"

Sade – "Cherish The Day"

It was the day of offerings for Mama Wati.

No time of the year ever made Lebadi happier than the first days of summer in Wakanda when the Border Tribe region celebrated the deities of the deep waters. Bast, Sekmet, and other higher powers were recognized inland, but on the sea, Mama Wati ruled everything. From the fishermen and fisherwomen to the military patrols on the ocean by the military, and everyday citizens, the big water was respected and revered. Mama Wati held sway there, and the annual offerings and celebration excited Lebadi beyond belief. Birnin S'Yan faced the sea and thousands of Wakandans made the trek across the mountains to the shorelands to dance, pay homage, and leave offerings to the mother of the sea.

Lebadi loved the trip because she loved to surf with her friends.

Every year T'limiwati—Revering the Mother of Waters—started the journey of packing up her father's Stealthmaster van with surfboards, firewood, and food. Lebadi drove around to pick up her four friends before they stopped at a temple to pay for blessed offerings to put into the sea. Mama Wati liked sugary treats, blue flowers, and small puff pastries shaped like seashells.

The drive would only take two hours, so her friends, N'ku, Pule, Ausi, and Benya would sing songs with her, eat snacks, and hope to find decent parking.

"We should've taken the monorail," Benya complained, as Lebadi tried her best to find a parking situation large enough for her father's van, but not too far away for them to trudge along with all of their gear.

"Not with all this stuff," N'Ku huffed.

"How about I drop you all off to find a suitable camping spot, and I'll catch up later," Lebadi offered.

Her friends agreed, and she pulled up near a sea wall where they offloaded their things. She happily drove away, knowing she wouldn't have to lug anything, not even her own stuff once she parked. Mama Wati must've known they had a great offering for her because Lebadi was able to snag a parking spot that was only a twenty-minute walk back to the beach.

The pilgrimage that year ran deep. The splendid weather, warm water, and balmy temperature brought out a dense wave of Wakandans for the celebration. Lebadi ran her fingers through her shoulder-length goddess braids she decorated with shells and blue flowers. It was the perfect style for swimming and surfing in seawater. Her skin was already turning a darker red-brown hue from the sun as she tapped her kimoyo beads against her father's car, sending up a protective shield that kept sand, sun, and seawater from damaging the paint.

Tugging on her short shorts that her plump ass cheeks tried to swallow, she checked her bikini top to make sure her plum-sized breasts weren't popping out like they were in the car. The top was a size too small on purpose, but it gave her the desired effect she wanted on N'Ku. He checked her out in the car despite his insistence that they stay friends after a not-so-successful try at a relationship. She thought that being out of college would make her love life easier, but the men around her were pitiful.

The walk to the beach thrilled her by seeing all the elaborate altars and gifts being brought to the beach for Mama Wati. She wished her grandmother was still alive. Their family used to show off by building a giant altar, but once Umi became an ancestor, her family didn't go to the ocean anymore. A pity. Umi taught Lebadi how to surf and she was going to keep up the tradition of surfing for Mama Wati until she was an old woman, too.

"Kgopo molemo!" Lebadi cried out when she caught up to her friend's campsite.

Wicked Good indeed.

They found the perfect location up against a sea bluff that protected them against any wind and was also far enough away from dense crowds hunkered down on the sand. There was a lot of dried and rotten seaweed separating them from folks that attracted flies and a subtle stench that was bearable to them, but unpleasant to others. She didn't care. They had room and privacy for their tents and boards. Gazing across the shore, families erected altars and there was a large old-fashioned blue and white boat decorated with blue flowers and filled with gifts for the sea, waiting to launch beyond the waves.

Wiggling out of her shorts, Lebadi made a show of jiggling her backside. N'Ku ignored her, his eyes fixated on the waves. They were big enough. Over six feet high. She held a hand above her eyes, shading them from the sun to see how far out the swells were, and how fast they were rushing in. Her board rested on her beach blanket, already waxed and ready to go. Checking her kimoyo, they had about ninety minutes to surf before the official ceremony began. They all stretched and put on rashguards, except for N'Ku and Ausi. He had on a full black wetsuit, and Ausi wore a short dark blue wetsuit that hugged her heavy curves.

"Last one in!" Lebadi shouted, kicking up sand.

The others chased after her with their boards and they spent a cracking good time snagging waves left and right until her kimoyo lit up. It was time for the offering ceremony. Lebadi twirled her finger in the air to let the others know it was time to stop. She paddled toward the shore fast when a wave lifted her. She popped up on her board like a rocket shot, balanced her arms, and took a quick glide along the lip of the wave, doing a three-sixty spin before dropping down. Her fingers skimmed the wall of bluish-green water that almost curled over into a nice liquid tunnel, but she overcompensated her balance and fell headfirst, knocking into Pule, whose husky voice shouted her name before he plummeted into the water too.

Soaking wet and full of laughter, the five friends scurried to their campsite to change into ocean-blue cotton tunics. Carrying the small offering basket they purchased at the temple, they delivered it to the large ceremonial boat. Several elders watched over the boat and accepted the gifts people brought. Seven djembe and talking drum leaders beat out a loud drum call and an old woman draped in an eggshell white dress with aquamarine flowers in her hair sang an ancient song to Mama Wati that Lebadi knew by heart. Two men and a woman paddled the offerings away and all the spectators onshore watched it sail far out to sea. The elder continued to sing and in the distance, they humbly observed all the offerings dropped in the water by the small boat crew.

When ululations ripped out from the throats of the onlookers, the drummers kicked up their pounding and Lebadi danced around her friends. They took time to admire the altar displays by families who decorated their own praise for Mama Wati. There were so many dotting the seawall.

They shared a fancy lunch together, and Lebadi relaxed into the fun for the rest of the day. By early evening, families left the beach for the inner-city entertainment. Soon, it was time to spark up a campfire and roast seasoned chicken kebabs and yams after a good surf day.

Lebadi reached into her open tent-flap door for the small paper napkin filled with sugar and special spices for Mama Wati that her grandmother used to make. She pulled off her tunic, revealing her bikini again.

"Be right back," she said.

"Hey, Lebadi. You're not surfing again, are you?" N'Ku asked as she lifted her board from the bluff wall.

"Just putting something out in the water for my Umi. Won't be long," she said.

N'Ku nodded and watched her carry her board back to the ocean. She felt self-conscious about her booty because she knew he was checking it out. Glancing back, she waved at him. He shook his dark locs threaded with shells, and she admired the lean muscular physique he showed off with his delicious sable skin. Bright white teeth gleamed at her. Her heart skipped a little. Maybe something could jump off later.

The far side of the beach was cleared of people, and the dull sound of music and carnival festivities echoed far behind her. Sunlight glinted off of the water with a final showy display of magenta and a sliver of blue for the sunset. She dropped her board on the water and skimmed over small waves, her strong arms paddling toward the orange sun. Straddling her board, she checked her leash, loosening it before she pulled out Umi's offering. She sprinkled the mixture gently into the water. The sugar dissolved, but the spices floated before being washed further out to sea.

"Mama Wati, I know this is your day, but my Umi, she was special to me. She taught me about you… she taught me how to love the ocean and ride the waves. Forgive me for honoring her with you. I don't know when I will be out to the sea again. Bast be blessed in your holy waters. Yibambe."

Lebadi dipped her fingers in the cooling water, cleansing her hands of sugar and spices. Reaching into her hair, she unfastened a flower and dropped it for a small wave to catch. It floated around her surfboard and a peace came over her. She sprawled out flat on her board and let her eyes gaze at the languid water, feeling lazy and free. Drifting off to a mini-sleep from a long day, her board rocked and lifted, gently pacifying her mind.

Minutes later, she opened her eyes and nearly fell off of her board. Two piercing dark brown eyes stared back at her from the water. They were attached to a handsome young man's tawny brown face. His ears were pointed and his dark wavy hair sat plastered around his forehead. A jade septum piercing captured her attention, and then her eyes drifted down to look at the most kissable lips that were parted slightly. His gaze had her transfixed. She held her breath, and he reached for her hand.

Lebadi sat up quickly, and a fresh wave rocked her, throwing her off the board. She splashed around, looking for the man, and glimpsed his feet diving below the surface. Were those tiny wings on his ankles?

She gagged on seawater because her mouth sat agape, and the shock of being spied on subsided. The man wasn't Wakandan. He didn't look like a citizen of their border country neighbors of Canaan or Azania. The man clearly wasn't African of any kind. He didn't look like the colonizers she learned about either, their pale flesh naked and strange like food without seasoning.

Something moved under her.

Lebadi scrambled onto her board and tried to catch the next wave back to shore, berating herself for not hitting her kimoyo quickly enough to film the man on a holo pic. She tapped it before she popped up on her board. A small wave rose and Lebadi rushed to snag it, but her leash stretched behind her and it dragged her off her board. She smacked hard into the water. A dorsal fin popped up, and terror hardened like cement in her stomach.

A great white shark.

Normally, they were confined to Southern Africa, but the shark circling her missed the memo. She struck the water to scare it away, and amazed herself by not screaming. Panic would overtake her if she did. She lunged for her board again and pulled herself out of the water, lying flat and still. The fin came around again and she could only guess at how big it was under the dark water.

"Mama Wati, help me," she whispered to the sea.

A thrashing in the water scared her shitless. She wanted to paddle away, but her arms would look like a tasty snack. Teeth chattering, Lebadi took a chance, sank her arms in, and stroked. A wave lifted her, and she jumped up quickly, focusing on getting to shore. She did no tricks or special moves, just rode the wave straight. Her board fins struck something, but she kept her balance, twisting her body to maintain control until she arrived on the wet sand that snaked between her toes.

"Holy Bast!" she shouted.

Running with her board back to her campsite, she kicked up a fuss. Her friends were tipsy from sharing a bottle of liquor.

"A great white attacked me!"

Her friends stared at her from around the fire. Benya held out the liquor to her.

"Well, shit!" N'Ku said.

Lebadi took a swig of plum liquor, and her friends followed her back to the water. They used lights from their kimoyos to illuminate the waves, but there was nothing out there.

"There was a strange man out there, too. I wonder if he was injured," Lebadi said.

"I don't see anything. Maybe it swam away," N'Ku said.

"I hope so. I'd hate to come all this way and can't surf because Jaws is swimming around," Ausi teased.

They searched the water with her for ten minutes until they grew bored.

"Maybe it was a dolphin, yeah?" N'Ku said.

"No. I know a dolphin fin when I see it. That was a shark out there," Lebadi said.

"And a little merman," Benya snickered.

Lebadi threw up her hands, and they returned to the fire.

More drinking commenced, with Lebadi partaking heavily, and after midnight, they were inside their tents asleep. Everyone turned in except for Lebadi. She let the fire burn down to the hot, glowing red coals before she took a walk along the shore away from their tents. Moonlight turned the peaks of the water into glowing white slashes of silvery light. Checking her kimoyo beads, they didn't do a great job of capturing anything because she didn't change the setting to get a wide 3D view of her surroundings.

Wait… there!

She froze the image. It floated in front of her, and she took her index finger and thumb to enlarge a section and cleared it up.

His eyes!

The static image seemed so strange. Water surrounded his face, with his hair swirling around. His body sat hunched forward like he was riding something…

She covered her mouth with her hand. The great white shark was underneath him. He straddled it like she did her own surfboard. There were no more images better than that one. Perplexed, Lebadi glanced at the water. Moonlight bathed her in tranquil blush-white light, and the soft sound of foamy water tickled her ears. He couldn't be human. Not with those ears. She could swear that she saw non-human feet, too.

She gasped.

He was there.

In the water.

Lebadi stepped forward until her toes were coated with foam and surging water, but she remembered the shark and kept the water at knee level.

"Hey!" she shouted, waving at him.

She didn't expect him to come to her, but he did, striding out of the sea in small tight trunks dripping wet. His hair was slicked back from his face, and it allowed her to observe him in the moonlight and the glow from her kimoyo beads. He was just under six feet, maybe three inches taller than her in comparison. His eyes made him seem larger than life, and their darkness penetrated every inch of her. His shorts hid nothing of the dick print bulge. He studied her too, taking peeks at her body and the lack of clothing she had on with her tiny bikini set. An elaborate choker necklace draped around his neck and she could make out gold cowrie shells, small beads, and strings of—

"Is that vibranium?" she said.

The shock of her tone startled him, and he looked at his jewelry.

Wakanda was the only nation that had vibranium.

"You're bleeding," she said, pointing to his side.

He turned around, and she saw the deep gash in his back.

"How did that happen?" she asked.

He pointed at her and his lips quirked up. Was he smirking?

"Me? How?" she asked.

He moved his hands to tell a story, and she made out that her surfboard had crossed over him and her board fins underneath cut him up.

"Can you understand me, or am I just thinking you can?" she said.

"Tene Tin na’atik … I understand," he said.

His voice scared her. It was forceful and slightly seductive. There was an accent, but she gawked at his ability to know her language. She eased back from him slowly.

"We are isolated from other places. How can you know Wakandan? Where did you get that vibranium? Did you steal that from us?"

Lebadi's voice grew haughty and protective of her country's secret resource.

"My people have our own."

"Rhino shit! It's native to our country. You stole—"

His hand went around her throat, preventing her from talking or yelling for help.

"My people don't have to steal," he said through gritted teeth.

"Take your hand off of me."

His head tilted and she swallowed as best she could.

"Watch what you say to me," he said.

The growl in his throat made her stomach jump. He released his hold on her and she rubbed her neck.

"The shark didn't attack you," she said.

"It knows better than to bite me. I raised it."

"Like a pet? Serious?"

He looked over her shoulder, and she glanced behind herself. N'Ku was up and about, kicking sand on the coals. Lebadi turned back to the man, and he was gone.

"Wait! Don't go!" she called out.

She ran toward the water. There was no splash. She would've heard that. Looking around, there was only the high bluff he couldn't climb up. He didn't run down the opposite side of the beach either.

"What are you doing way over there?" N'Ku cried out.

She ambled over to him on the cool sand.

"Walking around. Couldn't sleep."

"Stay close, yeah?" he said.

He rubbed her hair, flicked one of her decorative hair shells, and crawled back into his tent. She walked back to where she last saw the stranger.

"Where did you go? Am I drunk?"

The plum liquor had been strong. Maybe she had too much. She turned toward the bluff and—

"Fuck!" she shouted.

The man stood there, a sly smile on his face.

"How did you… do you have a camouflage shield or something…?"

"Bix a k’ a’aba’? What is your name?" he asked.

"Tell me yours first."

He stepped closer to Lebadi until his nose was an inch from her face.

"Eeen kaah-bah eh … K'uk'ulkan by my people. My enemies know me as Namor."

"So what am I to you?" Lebadi asked.

"I don't know yet. Who are you?"

"Lebadi."

He circled her, and the skin on her arms pricked with goosebumps. Not because it was cold, but because she found his behavior unnerving. He sniffed her hair, then stood in front of her again.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

He held a hand up to stop her from talking.

"I am looking for someone. A man was out in the water earlier. He dropped offerings into the sea with other people. I need to find him."

"I don't know anyone from earlier. I'm here with my friends to celebrate Mama Wati."

"Your God?"

"The mother of the waters," she said.

"Ixchel."

Lebadi shrugged, not understanding the new language he spoke.

"You are not afraid of me," he said.

"You rode a great white shark. If you wanted me dead, I would've been dead out there."

The intensity of his gaze became too much.

"I can't help you," she said.

She turned away.

"Would you like to ride him?"

Lebadi laughed in her mind at the nasty thought that ran through her brain about him when he said that. He had a solid body that would tempt any woman to climb on it. Fuck that shark.

"Me ride a shark?" she said.

Lebadi sucked her teeth.

"I'd rather know why you're here. What do you want from that man you're looking for? Are you a spy for the Americans?" she said.

King T'Chaka had begun a series of visits to the United States and the Wakandans worried about the west encroaching on their secrets. Lebadi pulled her hands in toward her chest. This was a national security situation. Liquor had her slipping up big time. She tapped her kimoyo to summon the authorities. Namor pulled on her beads and they fell apart, dropping onto the sand with soft plops. She dropped to her knees and gathered them back up onto her wrist. He held one away from her.

Lebadi ran back toward her camp, her hair shells jangling across her neck as she fled, and Namor's right arm encircled her waist. His left arm pointed above his head and they both lifted off the ground, racing upward fast, flying past the high bluff until they reached the top. Air breezed past her body and she closed her eyes from her fear of falling out of his grip. He dropped her on the soft tufts of grass at the edge. Too frightened to move, she stared at Namor's body floating in the air near the ledge. The small wings on his ankles fluttered like a hummingbird's wings. He glared down at her, daring Lebadi to move. She stayed on her rump.

"I must find this man soon. His name is Owiti Kiprono—"

"That is not a Wakandan name. I think you came to the wrong country," she said.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips became a tight line.

"I'm not lying. That name sounds Kenyan. You made a mistake coming here," she said.

She scooted backward slowly, and he crouched down to meet her eyes again.

"I cannot stay here long," he said.

"I don't know what to tell you."

He closed his eyes and sighed. Plopping down next to her, he plucked at the grass and threw it over the side of the bluff. That action alone made him seem so young. He looked her age, perhaps early to mid-twenties. There was peach-fuzz soft facial hair, and despite the maturity in his dark eyes, Namor acted as if he had a curfew, like he had to do something before his parents found out. How would an elder punish a flying fishman?

"You live out there?" she asked, her chin lifted toward the sea.

"I must leave," he said, raising up.

Lebadi grabbed his arm and held him. His skin felt cool and smooth, the muscle in his arm hard. He looked down at her hand gripping his flesh and jerked it away.

"Sorry," she said.

They sat together in silence, the crash of waves growing more frequent as a high tide rolled in. Far out in the sea, giant swells teased her eyes.

"You want to be on that?" he asked, nodding toward the large swells.

"Too far. I have a flying glider board that can take me out there, but it broke. We aren't allowed to go beyond five miles with our tech in the open."

"Because you hide yourselves?"

"Yes. If people outside knew about what we have…"

"My people are the same. It is forbidden… forbidden to be so far away… here."

"What do you call your home?" she asked.

"Talokan."

"Talokan… K'uk'ulkan… Ixchel …" she said, sounding out his language.

She looked at his ears and then gazed down at the wings on his feet.

"Do all your people—?"

"No. I am different."

She left the word mutant alone, not wanting to offend him. He flexed his fingers, stood up, and his body rose above her, those wings whirring fast.

"Wait, you can't leave me up here!"

Lebadi jumped up, and he flew past the ledge with a sly smile on his face.

"It'll take me forever to walk all the way down and back to my camp!" she whined.

"I need time to disappear before you tell the others."

"You haven't really done anything for me to tell them about."

He moved his hands in a wide arc while flying, and she put a hand on her hip.

"Okay, yeah… the flying thing is gossip-worthy. But you didn't hurt me, and nothing major happened… wait!"

He floated back six feet, and she stomped her feet.

"Come on!" she said.

"I like when you pout," he teased.

A smile lit up his face, and the moonlight gave his skin an eerie glow. She didn't want to grovel, but she also didn't want to make a long ass trek either.

"I'm scared," she said in a hushed tone.

"You faced a shark and didn't scream."

"I was in shock."

Namor held his hands palms up.

"Take my hands," he said.

Lebadi shook her head, but her feet had a mind of their own walking toward the ledge. Her hands ignored her brain signals too and reached for him. Clasping his hands, she curled her fingers in his and let out a nervous breath. Stepping out into the air with her right foot, she made the mistake of looking down.

"Namor!" she yelped.

Namor held her up and flew backward fast before tossing her in the air, her arms and legs flailing about before he caught her by the waist. He guided her down, not toward her camp, but across the dark waters dappled with moonlight and holding secrets of the deep.

"Easy, breathe easy, Lebadi," he cooed in her ear.

They dipped low and her stomach seemed to fall behind her as he whipped them across a giant wave that she saw minutes ago from so far away. He slid his hand from her waist up along her arms until she dangled below him, her legs swinging against wind and ocean spray. She whooped it up as he lowered her so that her feet skimmed across the top of a giant wave, cooling her feet and making her laugh hysterically. He swung her in another direction gently and her heels surfed the crest of another wave like she was water skiing. Dropping her into the ocean from twenty feet high, she splashed around frantically, terrified that his shark buddy would leap out and swallow her. Namor landed above the water, standing on top of it with his hands on his hips, looking down at her. He sank down into the water as her panic escalated and she threw her arms over his shoulders when the shark's fin appeared behind him.

"Take me out! Please, take me out!"

"He won't hurt you. See?"

The shark nestled close to Namor, and the man stroked the slippery cold skin.

Lebadi pressed her face into his neck and shivered in fear.

"Nothing will happen to you."

He stroked her hair and lifted her chin up.

"I promise," he said.

She wiped her eyes of water and nodded her head to him. Glancing to her side, Lebadi regarded the shark with trepidation, but she took a chance and stretched out her trembling arm toward the sea creature. Like dolphin skin, it was slippery, like wet rubber, and pliant when she pushed on it. She stroked the dorsal fin and nearly passed out when its head splashed toward her and she saw one of the cold black eyes staring back at her. Shoving her face back into his neck, Lebadi was done with the marine life show and tell.

Namor patted the shark near its gills, and the beastly animal went under the water and away from them. He lifted Lebadi in his arms, cradling her against him like a baby as he floated above the surface, flying them back to shore. She held onto his neck, watching the sand and bluff grow closer until they were back on land.

Face to face, they stared at one another.

"Good luck with your search," she said.

He touched her cheek, and the heat of her wet skin swallowed his damp coolness up. Those dark flashing eyes caused her insides to tumble and quake, making her feel a thick anticipation. Their attraction to one another was unquestionable. He slid the pad of his thumb across her top lip, following along its full shape before he leaned in and kissed her. The soft hairs of his light goatee tickled, and she smiled, opening her lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into her mouth where he explored every part. She gave back in return, sucking on his lower lip, fusing them together with slow succulent kissing. Her arousal triggered something in him as he pressed into her body. Firm muscles molded against her breasts, and the thin material of her bikini top revealed taut nipples. His right hand moved across her chest until it fondled a left breast, plucking at her nipple with gentle pinches. He slid the bikini bra cup aside, lowering his head to suckle. His tongue was incredibly warm dancing around her areola and her knees buckled when he lifted to kiss her again, his tongue snaking in and out of her mouth to taste every molecule, making her mouth water.

Her pussy already felt engorged, and every time he thrust his tongue between her lips, it throbbed with wanton need. His carnal desire for her curled her toes as his tongue and lips created a wet trail of gentle kisses along her neck. He moaned in her ear and her stomach became a swarm of butterflies trapped inside of her.

Their necks twisted from side to side, trying to find the best way to kiss more passionately, and she loved the failure of it. It seemed to irritate him, and he pulled back to stare at her with brooding arousal. She glanced down at his trunks and the thick erection protruding out toward her made her frantic to kiss him more. His dick pressed into her and Namor wanted Lebadi to feel it. He rubbed against her and she ground her vulva on it. When she looked down at his trunks again, he had his hand down there, tugging on the length. The tip peeked out and a heavy mushroom cap dripped pre-cum.

Lebadi moved his hand to her mound, and he took the invitation to heart by sliding his fingers down her scant bikini bottom. He stroked her clit first, his index and middle finger working tight gentle circles before touching her slippery wet folds. She was a frothy ocean down there and Namor pulled out his fingers to lick up all of her essence, making eye contact as he did it to show her how good she tasted to him. He smacked his lips and went back for more, tracing odd shapes along her folds and clit, teasing her with so much pleasure that she squealed out loud. He clamped a hand over her mouth and looked toward her campsite. No one was awake or searching for her. Moving his hand, he crashed his lips over her mouth, kissing the living breath out of her. Namor fondled her clit with expertise, and she thanked Mama Wati for the gift of her offering to the sea.

"Oh, my Bast!" she cried out.

Namor dropped to his knees and slid her bikini bottom to the side and feasted on her swollen clit, kissing and sucking to his heart's delight. His hands reached up to cup her ass cheeks to keep her in place. Lebadi stood and watched the ocean waves crash to shore as an orgasm surged. She grabbed for his hair and held his head against the clipped hairs of her vulva, panting and saying his name under her breath, willing herself not to scream. When his plush lips held her clit, and his tongue slurped all over it with warm saliva, Lebadi threw her head back and jammed her fingers in her throat to stifle the scream that she let out. She fell apart all over his mouth, the deep throbbing of her release reaching all the way to the back of her pussy. His seductive, penetrating eyes watched her cum all over his lips and tongue, extending her release, the orgasm rolling across her flesh in heated waves that made her scalp tingle and her eyes roll back.

His lips moved away from her pussy with a wet smacking sound, and they glistened with her sticky juices. He grinned and slid his tongue across his slips to swallow up every drop of her. Lebadi staggered back from him and Namor jumped up quickly to keep her from falling flat on her ass. Her entire body trembled with aftershocks, and the throbbing between her thighs wouldn't stop. She craved him.

Slamming her lips over his, she sucked her own taste from his mouth while he lowered his trunks and fisted himself. He coated his dick with all the pre-cum that dripped down from a deep slit and lifted Lebadi up by her hips, positioning her over the head of his erection. Sanity and thoughts of protection left her brain as she slid down his thick, brown dick. She wanted to be fucked good and proper by a man who laid her pussy out.

Namor's thrusts into her hot, gushy pussy had her mewling into his neck. He held her up easily, like she was a feather floating on the wind. His balls slapped against her ass cheeks, and she thanked all the Gods on land and sea for letting him stretch her pussy out on the beach. He grunted, the pleasure enveloping him too. He spoke to her in his own language, and she could only guess that he was telling her how good she felt on his heavy erection. His plundering of her pussy only made her more vocal, her yelps and wailing in his ear encouraging him to thrust with more conviction.

"Oh, Bast… Namor!" she shouted.

Weightlessness.

She clung to his shoulders as she gazed down at the sand he was not standing on anymore. Namor flew up along the bluff, still fucking her as he flew, and pressed her back against the hard wall of rock halfway from the top.

"You are too loud," he grunted, twisting his sinewy hips and pumping her full of Talokan dick.

Her pussy made squelching noises, and he slowed his strokes to tease her before flying them up again. He landed back on the soft tufts of grass at the top, but kept her on his dick. His breath was hot against her skin, and Lebadi's pussy clenched, making him shout her name from the pleasure of the tight grip. Laying her down on the grass, he pushed her thighs back and wiggled out of his trunks, giving her time to untie her bikini from top to bottom. She cast caution to the wind. Dick that good wouldn't come around that often.

He smiled at her as if he had read her thoughts. His beauty in smiling had her all soft and gooey on the inside, like she wanted to run home and tell her Mama that she finally met the one man to change her entire life forever. Lowering his face to hers again, Namor kissed her cheek and then her forehead. He turned his head as if he heard something.

"What is it?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Nothing."

He peppered tiny kisses across her clavicle and dragged his lips to her belly button, where he tongued it playfully, tickling her and making her giggle. Lebadi rubbed his head, letting her fingers caress his hair, and he looked at her again. She touched his nose piercing and the fire in his eyes reflected moonlight and a yearning for something beyond his grasp. Moving lower on her body, he kissed her thighs and the fold of skin near her vulva.

"I like the taste of saltwater on your skin," he said, licking her more.

He positioned himself between her legs and lined up his dick with her opening. Penetrating her gently, the bulbous tip parted her folds and her legs shot up straight to the moon.

"Ooohhhhh," she groaned.

He held her thighs with reverence, pumping in and out with delicate strokes. There was no fast fucking this time. He wanted to etch their lovemaking on the stars above them. It was so slow that it brought tears to her eyes. She whimpered his name, and he closed his eyes, his lower lip housed between his teeth, seawater dripping from his hair. He hunched over Lebadi and rocked into her body a little faster, the quicker pace forcing moans to fall from his lips.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he repositioned them so that she was on top, riding him with feverish intent. He palmed her breasts and stroked her nipples, watching her pussy slide up and down his length with vigor. She was so close to cumming again. Namor played with her clit, rubbing it softly and edging her closer to paradise.

"Fuck!" she yelled.

Flipping her over, Namor planted himself deep, stroking her at an angle that had her squeezing her eyes shut, thrashing under him. The beads from his choker dangled and scraped across her skin. He tossed her legs over his shoulders and tongued her down between giving her praises in his language. The man talked her pussy into letting go again and her walls clenched all around him, his strength and weight the only thing keeping her from shooting over the cliff.

"Namor… fuck me good… fuck me… oh, right there… stay right there… please… that's my spot!"

His name became a holy mantra on her lips. She felt his dick swell inside of her and he cried out her name, his cum warm and thick inside of her. He collapsed on her, and she stroked his back, feeling sweat pooling on his lower back. His mouth found hers again and his kisses were sweet all over her face and neck, bringing forth calming energy to her body and mind.

"That was incredible," she whispered into his ear.

His smile lit up his face again, and those sexy eyes drank in her naked charms under him. The smile faded when his eyes looked out toward the sea. His body grew stiff above her.

"What is it?"

He crawled off of her and pulled on his trunks. She rolled over and looked out to sea. The large leviathan body of a humpback whale floated in the distance; its long wide body visible from so far away in the moonlight. Fear shined in Namor's eyes.

"K’a’ak’ate," he said, stroking her cheek.

Lebadi scrambled to put on her bikini and Namor was already flying away from her, heading toward the sea and the whale waiting for him.

"Come back! You have to take me down!" she yelled.

He spun around to face her.

"I won't say anything. No one will see you," she pleaded, tying her top.

"Ma’taali’teeni’," he said, sounding regretful.

Namor shot away so fast that Lebadi took several seconds to blink. He vanished.

"Dammit! You bastard!" she said.

Storming away in the opposite direction, she made the long trek down the tricky bluff, cursing the man out, while also enjoying the tingles that ran up and down her body from their lovemaking. She took a long restroom break behind some bushes to urinate. By the time she made it to the bottom and found the trail that led back to the beach, her cheeks were warm and tight from smiling so much. No matter what she said, no one would believe her. She glanced at her kimoyo beads.

"Ah, shit!"

Namor still had one of her beads. The main one she needed to turn the kimoyo on. Oh, well.

Lebadi searched the water for signs of the whale or glimpses of her otherworldly lover. There were only waves and foamy water lapping on the shore. She trudged over the sand back to her tent. Unzipping it, she crawled inside and fell fast asleep.

The week in Birnin S'Yan went by so fast to Lebadi that she thought they had been there only three days instead of seven. She surfed so much that her skin flaked with sunburn and pruned feet. She felt gorgeous with her darkened, sun-kissed skin. But it was time to get home, remove shells, and unbraid her hair for a thorough washing and conditioning. She would rest her normal curls inside a satin bonnet.

Lebadi spent her last day on the beach surfing and scanning the water for signs of a great white shark, whales, or a set of pointy ears rising from the sea. She found nothing.

Her board skimmed across the warm waters, and she practiced neat footwork on it to impress her friends. A miscalculation sent her sailing over her board into a whitewash of liquid heaven. She laughed and shook her braids when she broke the surface. Another high wave towered over her and she duck-dived underneath, clutching her board with her hands as she held her breath. For a split second under the wave, she thought she saw Namor floating before her, and she broke the surface, startled and gasping for air. Releasing her board and letting her leash tether her close to it, Lebadi dove under again, searching for her lover. The sunlight that struck the water gave her enough light to see an expanse of the blue-green ocean and nothing else.

The next morning, she set about packing up her belongings before breaking down her tent. Her friends wanted to stop at a restaurant in town to eat a meal before the drive back to Birnin Zana. Rolling her sleeping bag, she found her missing kimoyo bead and a gold cowrie shell from Namor's necklace. There was no way for him to place it there while her friends were up, so he must've brought it to her in the middle of the night when she was fast asleep. Slipping the loose bead onto its rightful place on her wrist, Lebadi held up the cowrie shell. The craftsmanship rivaled her own people's artisan skills. Palming it, she stepped out of her tent to gaze at the horizon.

"All good?" N'Ku asked, staring at her as he buried their old coals.

"Yeah."

"We'll be ready soon. I can drive to give you a break," Benya offered, tying up her wet hair.

"Cool," Lebadi said, holding the cowrie shell close to her heart.

She later passed Benya a kimoyo bead to start up the van. Sitting on the sand with her legs pulled into her chest, Lebadi bid a silent farewell to the beach.

"Next year, I'm coming back, and you better show up again," she huffed, reminiscing over his touch all over her skin.

Just thinking about him aroused her, and she stood up, tugging on her shorts, trying to keep her bikini from sticking to her folds.

"What's that?" Ausi asked, looking at the gold cowrie shell she fingered in her hand.

"I found it in the water," Lebadi lied.

She pocketed the shell in her cut-offs and lifted her board and tent, following her crew to the seawall so they could wait for Benya to pull around. Lebadi glanced over her shoulder, and a shiver went through her.

"Mama Wati, when I give you a bigger offering next year, please send that man back to me," she whispered.

The sound of the waves crashing down loudly on the shore made her believe Mama Wati heard her request. No matter what, Lebadi was going to come back.

And she would ride the shark, Namor, and anything else he shared with her.

Part 2 HERE.

Author’s Note: If you liked the story, please share by reblogging, commenting and all that good stuff. Follow me for new updates and more content. I would love to see the Black Panther fandom come alive again. I haven’t seen the “Wakanda Forever” movie yet, so this story takes place twenty years before that. Just so you know, I make my own canon, lol!

Also, I switched up the spelling of the actual Mami Wata to Mama Wati to give myself space to reshape my ancestor’s actual African/African Diaspora spiritual water being into a fictional Wakandan one.

The Masterlist for more of my content is HERE. Be on the look out for part 3 soon!

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@thickemadame

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goosita · 9 months

Note

PLEASE WRITE MORE OF THE SINGER!READER X BILLY THAT WAS TOO GOOD <33333333

i love singer!reader she’s so lucy gray (but with an actually sweet man)

billy would talk himself up all week just to see you again at the saloon, knowing you’d be back on that stage friday night. for the last 6 days, his buddies have been teasing him for the way he’d stared at you with eyes as wide as saucers, looking like a lovestruck fool. they weren’t exactly wrong, though.

he sits at a table near the back where he had been last time, but this week he’s by himself. he couldn’t bear the idea of his friends, as much as he liked them, poking fun at him in front of you. he felt nervous, wondering if you’d even notice him tonight. he sat and bounced his leg anxiously, waiting for you to take the stage.

and when you finally do, by god, you steal the boy’s breath away.

billy watches in complete awe, your voice ringing out loud and clear through the whole place. he watches you swish your pretty dress around, a different one this week, and how your hair bounces and glitters under the oil lamp lights. everyone cheers you on, and his heart flutters at the giant grin it brings to your face. and then your eyes meet his, way at the back of the house.

it feels like he can’t breathe for those tiny little seconds it takes for you to recognize him, but when you smile brightly, he feels like the entire sun has embedded itself in the center of his chest. he grins back, cheeks flushed pink and eyes glittery. once you know he’s here and where he’s sitting, your eyes trail back to him constantly while you sing.

he watches for you what feels like both hours and only seconds, until you take a bow and skip off the small makeshift stage. and then you’re making your way through the crowd, stopping right in front of him.

“howdy, stranger,” you say, beaming. billy can’t hide the stupid smile that takes over his face.

“hi there.”

you giggle and he feels like he might float away, he feels like he’s in a dream that he never wants to wake up from.

“i could watch you sing for hours,” he blurts out, unable to stop himself. thank god it only makes you light up more, or else he’s certain he would die of embarrassment.

“i don’t think i’d mind pretty blue eyes like that on me, for however long you want,” you flirt, making his heart beat even faster. is he dreaming? he might be.

billy swallows hard as subtly as he can before asking, “maybe you’d like to sit and have a drink with me then?”

wordlessly, you plop down right beside him and peer into his glass. whiskey. he watches in wonder as you pluck it from the table and take a sip, humming. he watches you with a smile, completely enamored.

“i’ll have what you’re having, billy.”

#billy bonney x singer!reader #billy the kid fluff #billy the kid x you #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth billy the kid #billy the kid #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #anon

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blooms-in-april · 1 month

Text

The front door slams open, the wreath swinging and everyone looks up. A man steps in.

“Jaskier!” Ciri cries. The little girl tears herself free from her father’s arms, making grabby hands at the newcomer’s blue coat. Geralt looks as if he’s taken too large a bite out of a pie and gotten it lodged in his throat.

“Your highness!” Jaskier says, doffing his hat and swinging his lute off his shoulder. He sweeps past both Geralt and Lambert without a glance, crouching to his knees at Ciri’s level. His calloused fingers strum a jaunty tune to the rhyme of Ciri’s excited bouncing.

“Princess Cirilla! An honor to be at your service.” He makes a dramatic bow, letting her paw at his feathered hat, his hair, his beard.

“I’m a lion, Jaskier!” she says, pointing a grubby finger at her drawn on whiskers and nose.

“And so you are,” he says, as if the ridiculous declarations of children were the most obvious and sensible things in the world. “Princess Ciri, the Lion Cub of Cintra! I’ll have to write a song about that.”

“A song!” Ciri’s eyes grow wide. Jaskier smiles.

“At least! Perhaps I can get a whole song cycle out of it, how does that sound?”

“Can I have my sword in it?”

“You can have two swords in it, if you want. Three swords. As many swords as you like!”

Ciri squeals and leaps into his arms, his arms circling her gently, careful not to crush her princess dress. Lambert watches something in Geralt’s face crumple quietly.

“Jaskier.” Geralt says, and Jaskier looks at him from over Ciri’s shoulder.

“Geralt.” he responds cautiously, in a tone Lambert has never heard from him before. In all the years he’s watched the bard trail in his brother's wake, singing praises, never once has he heard a cautious word from him. And yet, here it is. “How are you, lately?”

“I-” and Lambert would laugh, watching Geralt chew and swallow his words rather than spit them out, if it didn’t make something hard lodge in his own throat. “I’m- glad you could make it.”

Jaskier waits, for a beat, two, as if expecting something more. Geralt says nothing.

Jaskier smiles, a thin wan little thing. “Well, I could hardly miss it, could I? Being properly invited after some many years of simply crashing the thing,” he says lightly, looking around at the blinking lights, the molting tree, the tinsel worn after being reused year after year. “You’d think it’d be different, after it all, but it seems everything is just the same as always.” There is a quick sharp glance, like broken glass.

Geralt opens his mouth, pauses, shuts it. Opens, and shuts again.

Jaskier turns back to Ciri and her excited song suggestions as if they are the only two people in the world, letting her lead him off into the corner to inspect the presents under the tree. Geralt sits stupidly on the carpet, as if he’s been shoved through a portal and left nauseous on the other side, with no idea of where he is and how to get back.

Now Lambert does laugh, a short sharp bark of a thing.“What the fuck was that?”

Geralt says nothing, only heaves himself up and stalks into the kitchen without a word.

Excerpt from my angsty modern AU Geraskier Lambden Lamskier fic. Link below 👇

#geraskier #the witcher #lamden #laiden #lambert/aiden #witcher lambert #lambert #geralt/jaskier #jaskier x geralt #lambert/jaskier #lambert x jaskier #lambert x aiden #angst #my lambden lambskier geraskier fic has taken over my head #vesemir #ao3 author #ao3 link #ao3 rec #my fic quotes

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superhero--imagines · 1 year

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! /Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! /

Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! /

Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here ! / Part 17 Here! /

Part 18 Here! / Part 19 Here! / Part 20 here! / Part 21 Here! / Part 22 Here! /

Part 23 Here! / Part 24 Here! / Part 25 Here! / Part 26 Here! / Part 27 Here! /

Part 28 Here! / Part 29 Here! / Part 30 Here ! <This is Part 31!>

A/N: This one isn’t as good as normal but it’s the best I could do

* This is bad

* “Woah, how’d you do that Tyson?” Percy has stars in his eyes as he inspects Tyson’s unscarred hands after he caught flaming dodgeballs like it was nothing.

* Neither you nor Percy have a weapon, the only person here capable of taking on these flaming monsters is Tyson—but he’s like seven years old in Cyclops years so that’s not a good idea.

* ‘But I’ve been through worse.’ You remind yourself with a deep breath.

* These are monsters, not gods. You can always rely on your despair.

* You turn to Perfcy and Tyson, an apology on your lips when there’s a guttural groan on the other side of the gym.

* Invisible gashes form on the monsters one by one as they combust into flames, black scratch marks where they once stood.

* Annabeth materializes when her baseball is knocked of her head by a particularly violent gust of flames.

* But not before she strikes the last one down, shrieking in pain when a flame flickers against her arm.

* ‘Huh, I guess that works too.’

* “Annabeth!” Percy shouts. You both run over to her, your hands held over singed flesh.

* Her bottom lip trembles between her teeth until blue light emits from your hands.

* The wound drys into a scab, then tender pink flesh, before disappearing completely.

* “I’ll never get over this.” Annabeth whispers, fingers trailing the unblemished skin.

* “What do you think you’re doing!?” A voice booms from behind you, and when you turn to look sure enough — the former Olympic medalist for archery, now just a high-paid school gym teacher — is glowering at you.

* Percy immediately tenses with a sad look in his eyes. “It was nice staying here while it lasted,”

* The coach makes his way to you in heavy steps, Percy rises, his mouth trembling.

* “It was all—”

* He walks right past you three and to the red lever in the wall.

* “I know you kids care about each other, but in these cases, if there’s an electrical fire you really need to ring the fire alarm.”

* “An electrical fire?’ Percy mumbles to himself.

* “Come on kids! Let’s head out from the backway just like we practiced in the drills!”

* Percy, Annabeth, Tyson and you file into line with the other students.

* “He didn’t get mad,” Tyson whispers.

* Your first reaction is to tell him of course he wouldn’t get mad, it’s not like any of you asked for a fire.

* But when you see the look on Percy and Annabeth’s face, you swallow your words.

* You’ve always gone to St. Catherine’s, and with your divine father's consistent presence, you wouldn’t be surprised if the mist worked favorably here because the faculty had a good impression of you—and by extension your friends.

* But the same can’t be said for your friends.

* ‘They’re just children, they shouldn’t have to be so cunning that they can manipulate what a person thinks they saw.’

* Your lips tucks between your teeth and you swallow hard.

* “Of course, he didn’t.” you’re just a child. “You deserve to be trusted.”

* If they heard you they don’t make any indication as your group is jostled outside, cellphones held to ears as children call their parents.

* ‘Maybe I should call Dad and let him know. I should let them borrow my phone too, hopefully they know their parents number—‘

* “Annabeth, what are you doing here?”

* “I-I came here to get Percy, they’re asking for him at camp.” Then looking a bit bashful, she adds: “I didn’t know you guys went to the same school.”

* “I never mentioned it?” Percy says with a rather ingenuine shrug. Annabeth pouts.

* “Looks like it’s your lucky day, this is a three-for-one.”

* “Where did you find him?” She gestures to Tyson.

* “He’s my friend.” Percy answers, slightly miffed at her tone.

* Annabeth hails a taxi like you’ve never seen before, dark green in color with smoke creeping out of the windows.

* “Yeah, no offense but I’d rather cut of my left nut then get in that thing.” (this is said in a gender neutral way I promise—if you identify M it’s serious, if F or non-binary it’s being dramatic)

* You wave your hand and a portal opens before you.

* You’ve practiced enough with your father this year to manage making it to one location, it still takes a lot of focus.

* You watch one of the drivers amber at Tyson.

* “Do you want to come with me Tyson?”

* He hesitates for a moment before shaking his head with a sweet smile.

* “I’m going to go with Percy.”

* You return his smile with your own.

* ‘Brothers should stick together after all.’

* “See you guys at camp!”

* You keep the image of rolling hills and the scent of strawberries in your mind, walking into the inky black abyss until sunlight floods your view

* And just like that you’re here.

* “Squad five attack from the right!”

* “Watch out for the flames!”

* “Get it together!!”

* A mechanical Bull rampages through campers like they’re players in grand theft auto.

* And just like that it’s like you never left.

* From the mass you spot a golden mmmmm familiar bright yellow head of hair.

* “Clarisse!”

* Her attention is diverted from her opponent for a moment, just long enough for the bill to latch onto her as it’s next target.

* “Get out of the way!”

* The two of you tumble out of the way and down a hill.

* She seems more shocked than usual to see you.

* “You need to get out of here.”

* “Yeah, we all need to get out of here. How’d a monster even get inside—”

* “No,” she grabs onto your arm. “You specifically need to leave right now.”

* ‘That’s kind of a rude thing to say to someone who saved your life.’

* You hear a loud crash and look up to see Tyson going head to head with the mechanical Bull.

* “Come on.” She tugs you by the arm around the squirmish past a shrieking bull, a screaming Annabeth and an adrenaline filled Percy.

* “Clarisse, our friends are that way!”

* She pays you no mind almost making it all the way to Thalia’s tree when the world goes still.

* “Shit.” She whispers.

* You turn with your eyebrows threaded together, seeing a group of startled campers staring back, where the Bull once stood is a man—at least six feet tall with a head of perfectly gold curls.

* He looks at you with a wolfish grin, his bright red blush flanked over his nose and spilling onto his cheeks.

* “(Y/N)! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Ares shouts with an excited wave.

* “Shit.”

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sev-on-kamino · 1 year

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Congrats on 200!!

Was wondering if you could give headcanons about reader shitfaced drunkenly saying I love you and how they react either just right away or both then and the next morning

With whoever you want and however many you want ❤️ but please rex and dogma??

Thank you so much, love!!!

Oooh this is a fun prompt, thank you for sending it in 💙💙

Warnings: being drunk, passing out, but you’re safe as houses with our boys, so no worries. Minors still DNI.

Rex, Dogma, Jesse, Kix, and Fives react to you saying ‘I love you’ when you’re drunk:

Rex

He blinks several times and ??? blue screens

You definitely just said “I love you, Rex.” He’s positive because he’s perfectly sober.

He knows you care for him, but this is another level that he’s not equipped to deal with on the fly, so he just gets you back to the barracks and tucked into your bed.

The next day, he calls you into his office to talk.

After he awkwardly beats around the bush, he finally takes a deep breath, and asks if you remember the night before.

Once you assure him you do, he asks if you meant what you said.

After you make it clear that you meant it drunk, and you mean it sober then you’ll get the softest “I love you too” imaginable.

Dogma

His heart skips a beat, but he thinks you’re teasing him, and he quells the hope that you mean it.

“Did Fives put you up to this?” 😒

You insist it’s true, but it’s hard for him to take you seriously when you can’t even walk straight.

“Sure, sure, cyar’ika.” He sighs, and gets you home safely.

The next day after breakfast he asks again if Fives told you to mess with him.

You ask what the kriff he’s on about, and he tells you.

Your face heats up and you swallow hard. “No, Fives didn’t tell me to say that, I just don’t have a filter when I’m drunk…”

The pair of you stand there a moment while he processes what you just said. “Me too,” he blurts out. “I feel the same about you too I mean.”

Before you can react he kisses you desperately before saying he needs to run drills, or clean something.

Jesse

He grins at you, “Oh, you’re in a fun mood, huh, mesh’la?”

You say it again, crawling into his lap and telling him how gorgeous and perfect he is before passing out.

He holds you close for awhile thinking about how good it would feel to hear you say those words when you meant them.

The next day he takes the time to tease you about how utterly hammered you were. He details the dancing, the singing, and the bar fight you almost started, but he leaves out the “I love you.”

You tell him you just remember getting into his lap and going to sleep.

“Yeah, that’s it. Oh wait, you also told me I was gorgeous and perfect and you love me. Ring any bells?”

“I’ll accept the loving you part, because I do. But the other stuff? You made that up.”

He will definitely argue with you for a good long while before ever getting around to the fact that he loves you too.

Kix

He cups your face, “Tell me again when you’re sober, ok?”

You drunkenly protest, “No I have to tell you now, Kix. I love you.”

He kisses your forehead, and wraps you up in a hug. “Nope, I’m only accepting sober declarations of love, cyare.”

There’s pouting, whining, some tears, and then you pass right out.

The next day he strolls up to you, and hands you meds and a canteen of water before he asks, “Have you gotten all that liquid courage out of your veins? Can I hear those sweet words from my cyare, who can think straight?”

Your face heats up, but you nod and tell him again.

You get the warmest smile full of unspoken devotion before he tells you he loves you too.

Fives

He thinks you’re being playful at first, so he plays along. “Of course you do, mesh’la. Who else could be worthy?”

You get annoyed because you’re not playing, and he’s not listening. It doesn’t help that you’re leaning on him for support, and trying to keep from falling.

“Whatever, Fives. I take it back anyway,” you mutter after enduring his lighthearted teasing.

“You can’t take it back, that’s selfish 😌”

The two of you go back and forth all the way up to him getting you tucked into bed safely.

The next morning he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything before he says, “You know I love you too, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Are you fucking with me right now?”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t play with your heart like that, cyare. It’s too precious.”

Your gaze softens, and you lean forward to kiss him, he eagerly meets you halfway, murmuring against your lips how much he loves you.

I feel like I always forget my taglist when answering asks, but I remembered this time: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @iamburdened @sunshinesdaydream (Hardcase will get his own post 😘) @dukeoftheblackstar @rexxdjarin @wolffegirlsunite @sleepingsun501 @808tsuika

#thank you for sending this one in 💙💙#seven writes #seven answers #seven and the 2 century celebration 🍾#tcw rex x reader #tcw dogma x reader #tcw jesse x reader #tcw kix x reader #tcw fives x reader #tcw rex hc #tcw dogma hc #tcw jesse hc #tcw kix headcanons #tcw fives hc #reader insert

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pinkertinn · 3 months

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My first tumblr post, and it's for Cleon Song Week! am I tumbling correctly?

Day 1: Love

Song: BIRDS OF A FEATHER - Billie Eilish

She was everything to him. The cool side of the pillow in the middle of the night, a soothing touch against his weary soul. Every glance from her was a sunrise, painting his world with golden hues of hope and the promise of new beginnings. She was his dream and his reality, the anchor that kept him grounded and the wings that allowed his spirit to soar. In her embrace, he found his home, a place where every moment was cherished, and every breath was a promise of forever—however long forever was for them.

When she asked him which songs reminded him of her, which tunes should set the stage for the day they would pledge their love, he found it an impossible task. How could he pick just a few melodies to encapsulate the symphony of what she meant to him? Each note would have to capture her fiery boldness, the way she challenged him when he was wrong or being a fool. It would need to reflect her nurturing spirit, her motherly instinct that reached out to those in need. Her competitive edge, the way she always kept him on his toes, would need a rhythm all its own. And then there was the warmth of her touch, a simple caress that healed his deepest wounds, and the magic in her eyes, a mystery he could read like an open book despite her efforts to hide it. Whose voice could possibly narrate the beautiful chaos and whirlwind that defined their romance?

“How about this song? Uhm, Billie Eilish?” She turned up the sound on her laptop, concentrating on the screen. “Think it’s called Birds of a Feather?” Her nose scrunched, and she slightly tilted her head as her eyes shifted to gauge his reaction.

He listened to the upbeat jingle, nodding his head in time with the beat.

“Rot away, dead, buried?” He raised an eyebrow in question. “A little morbid, no?” he scoffed at the singer's angelic voice singing about such dark things.

“Well, you know they say till death do us part… rings even more true for us, I suppose.” Her voice sounded barren, hollow of the sparkle it had when they first started sifting through songs.

And I don't know what I'm crying for I don't think I could love you more. Might not be long, but baby, I Don't wanna say goodbye

“When you think of us, and you listen to this, does it give you anything?” She swallowed down what sounded like heavy emotion, and he realized he wasn’t listening to the song in the same way she was. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know…

Feather…

I’ll love you till the day that I die…

Feathers…

That’s right. Suddenly, it was 1998, and a 19-year-old Claire stood exhausted and disheveled before him, wearing that delicate turquoise opal feather necklace. Despite the rain and the violent struggles they faced, the necklace remained unscathed, sparkling as if brand new. The silver pendant hung just above the dip in her blood-stained cleavage. She later told him that if she had to look Sherry and him in the face, she’d never have been able to leave. So, she left him with a note at the hotel, and the necklace slipped to the floor when he opened it.

I don’t want to say goodbye, and I know we should stick together. But, I’ll be back for this. It’s more your color anyway. -Claire

She was right; the blue of the necklace matched most of his outfits. Blue was his color. When she came back for it, he couldn't bear to part with it. He had it with him when they reunited at that small dive bar, where she cried, begging for his forgiveness. The necklace was pressed against his breaking heart in his suit breast pocket as he refused to hand over the flash drive to her. And when their world began to crumble in Alcatraz, that tiny feather Claire had given him was buried deep in his jean pocket.

If you go I’m going too…

His eyes burned, threatening to spill tears, as he remembered hearing her agony in that prison cell while he helplessly banged the back of his head against the bars. He had been so angry with her that day, wondering why she was even there. But in an instant, his anger turned to fear. The thought of them both perishing there, separated by a prison cell after all they had survived, was unimaginable. Yet, he felt a slight twinge of guilt in his chest, knowing that a part of him found comfort in the idea of being with her forever, even if it meant in death.

Till the light in my eyes, till the day that I die..

"Claire, I—hold on." He pushed his chair away from the table and excused himself. When he returned, he held the delicate turquoise opal feather necklace she had left him 26 years ago. Gently, he placed it around her neck. "Birds of a feather, right?" He locked the clasp and released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Seeing the necklace back around her neck healed something inside him that he hadn’t realized was aching.

"My something blue," amusement lighting up her features as she delicately swept her fingers across the blue stone. "I love you, Leon."

"I love you too, Claire, till the day I die." He squeezed her shoulders and leaned down to place a light kiss in the crook of her neck before sitting back down next to her.

"So, what else do you have on this playlist?" he asked, nudging her and glancing at her laptop.

#cleonsongweek #cleon #claire redfield #leon kennedy #billie eilish #birds of a feather

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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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one night stand (stoncy)

The morning after he hooks up with Jonathan and Nancy, he wakes up alone.

He stretches towards the still-warm spot in Nancy’s bed, until he realizes no one’s there. His other side is cold. He’s pretty sure he fell asleep in the middle, so whoever was at his back has been gone a while.

He tries not to feel any specific way about that. He fails.

“Shit,” he says out loud, and tries to suffocate himself with a pillow.

When that fails, he gets out of bed. His clothes are all on the floor, leaving him uncomfortably exposed in a room that feels colder than it is. Usually he doesn’t have an issue with nakedness, but apparently flying too close to the sun will have you faceplant in ways you didn’t know were possible. He didn’t even put his underwear back on after.

Did Nancy? Did Jonathan? He can’t remember, and it bothers him.

His shirt is missing. There’s a different sweater in its place, though, a little too small but stretched wide in the shoulders. He lets himself take a moment to press it to his face, breathing in, before shrugging it on. It makes him feel marginally less alone.

Clothes on, he ventures down the stairs.

Nancy and Jonathan are talking in hushed voices in front of the stove, stopping as soon as they see him. The back of his neck prickles uncomfortably at the secrecy. Were they talking about him? They must have been, both their cheeks flush when they’re caught.

He’s pretty sure he knows what that means.

“I, uh.” He licks his lips, mouth dry. Nancy’s wearing his sweater. The dark blue looks good on her, makes her lips redder and her eyes sharper. Jonathan is wearing his own shirt he must have left here another time, because Steve’s wearing the one he had on yesterday. “Good morning?”

Nancy’s lips quirk, like she can’t help herself. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Jonathan echoes. His eyes meet Steve’s for an instant before flickering away. “How’d you sleep?”

As soon as he says it, he winces.

Steve can’t help laughing a little, even as it hurts. He’s just so cute when he’s awkward. “Pretty good,” he admits. “Longest I’ve slept in…a while, I think.”

No nightmares that he can remember, but he’d woken up with a weight on his chest that set him on edge. Still, it’s better than he’s been getting lately. And he slept for almost eight hours, a near unachievable feat these days.

“That’s good.”

“Jon’s making eggs,” Nancy blurts out, as if he can’t see the carton sitting on the counter. “Scrambled. There’s jam in the fridge, if you want toast.”

Scrambled eggs are his favorite. He wonders if Nancy remembers that, or if it’s just a coincidence.

“Thanks,” he says, scrubbing the back of his neck, “but I gotta go to work.”

They both freeze. Jonathan’s fingers turn white around the fork in his hand. “I thought you worked in the afternoon.”

“Picked up a double. Thanks for the offer though. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Nancy opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She swallows. “Yeah,” she echoes, “see you later.”

Jonathan turns back to his eggs. “Bye, Steve,” he says. His shoulders are tense. It’s a clear dismissal, and not one he’ll ignore.

He gives them a dorky little salute he immediately regrets and tries not to make it look like he’s too eager to escape.

Not even ten minutes after he starts his car he’s knocking on Robin’s window. Maybe he should feel bad about lying to them, but he needed to get out of there almost as badly as he needed to talk to her.

She shoves it up so quickly he doesn’t have time to stop knocking and nearly gets a first to the face. “What the fuck,” she hisses, but he’s already tumbling in.

He doesn’t even bother getting up off the floor before he declares, “I had sex with Nancy and Jonathan.”

She drops to the floor by his side.

They lay there in silence for a good few minutes. It may be the longest they’ve ever been quiet. He loves Robin’s rambling, loves how it fills up the empty space in his house and his head and his heart until he feels like he could sing with it. To exist here without it feels unnatural, makes him feel tense as he waits for her judgment to rain down on him.

“Shit,” she finally says.

That about sums it up. He rolls over and laughs until he cries.

“Okay, say that for me one more time.”

“We had sex,” he says. He doesn’t think she wants the details of that. “I woke up alone. I told them I had to go to work and came straight here.”

“So you lied and left.”

“They left first.” He doesn’t care if he sounds like a whiny kid right now, he hates waking up alone. He spends most of his nights in bed with Robin, either here or at his house. If she wakes up before him (a rare occurrence), she shakes him so he doesn’t have to open his eyes and be confronted with an empty bed.

“They don’t know, Steve,” she says quietly, tugging slightly at his hair to get the message across. “It sounds like they wanted you to stay. They made your favorite breakfast food.”

Nancy knew. He’d told her, forever ago. “They didn’t.”

“How do you know?”

He has a feeling she’s not going to accept “they just can’t” as an answer, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

She hears it anyway. “Is it really so hard to believe they might feel the same way about you as you feel about them?”

“Yes,” he sighs, rolling away from her probing eyes.

“Why?”

People who love you aren’t supposed to break your heart. They aren’t supposed to call you bullshit, or sleep with your maybe-maybe-not girlfriend, or ignore you for years afterwards and only talk to you when the world is ending. They’re not supposed to insult your family or call you a slut for the whole town to see either.

God help him, he fell anyway.

“They love each other,” he finally says. “They’ve always loved each other. There’s not- I don’t fit there. They made that pretty clear.”

He thought he did, for a bit. For the time it took for him to run back into the Byers’s messed-up house and fight a monster. The three of them had been so in sync, he thought briefly it could always be that way.

Until Jonathan pulled away from them. Until Nancy told him she didn’t love him. Until they both left him behind, holding the pieces of his shattered heart in his hands and wondering what went wrong.

Tommy wasn’t lying, when he called Steve a runner. He thought he’d gotten over it, gotten better at not taking the easy way out, but apparently when there’s no adrenaline rush it’s a hell of a lot harder to stick to your guns. He’s not willing to break his own heart like that again, even if it’s already too late. A little denial never hurt anyone.

He sees them again later that day. It’s so awkward he almost wishes another portal would open under his feet just so he could escape the conversation.

“Hey guys! Fancy seeing you here.” The fake cheerfulness in his own voice is enough to make him wince. Then, because apparently he loves twisting that knife in his chest, “Looking for something for date night?”

“Looking for you, actually,” Nancy says flatly. “You weren’t here this morning.”

Shit. He didn’t think they’d come look for him. Why didn’t he think about that? He was obviously lying, why wouldn’t they call him out on it? He cuts a panicked glance at Jonathan, but he’s got the same intense, upset look on his face that Nancy does. If he wants someone to save him from Nancy’s ire, it won’t be him.

Every second he goes without answering, Nancy’s glare deepens.

“Must have been on my break,” he finally says, and immediately kicks himself.

“You— on your—“ she opens and closes her mouth in disbelief, so mad she can’t talk. Shit, he’s definitely going to die today.

Jonathan puts a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Steve,” he says. There’s a slight tremor to his voice. Steve put that there. Steve made them so upset. He’s a fucking monster, God. No wonder they're mad at him. “Where did you go?”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I went to Robin’s.”

“Why?”

He gives him a look.

“But why would you go to Robin’s?” Nancy spits.

Woah, woah, woah. The fuck was that suppose to mean? He thought Nancy liked Robin. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Saying what like that?”

“Her name,” he says, hackles raised. “What the hell, guys? What’s your problem?”

“You want to know what my problem is?”

“Nancy…” Jonathan warns, trying to pull her back. She shrugs him off.

“My problem,” she says loudly. He’s so lucky the store is empty, “is that you went to talk to Robin instead of us!”

“What is there to talk about?” He demands. It’s a genuine question, but he realizes as soon as it’s left his mouth that it’s not phrased as one.

Nancy makes a noise not unlike his mother’s tea kettle. Well, he lived a good life. At least Robin knows where his will is.

“You know what?” She finally snaps. “Fuck you, Steve.” And with that fun little note, she turns on her heel and leaves the store, bell ringing in the silence left in her wake.

When he looks at Jonathan, he’s clearly torn between following her or staying and talking to Steve. Well, he can help with that decision. “You should probably go after her.”

“I don’t…”

“It’s fine, man,” he says when Jonathan trails off, clearly at a loss. “I get it. It was just a silly mistake, right? No harm, no foul.” He smiles to show that he means it. It pulls at his cheeks uncomfortably, but it works. Probably because Jonathan isn’t looking at him.

“Right,” he echoes. “A mistake. It was just a mistake.”

He hovers for another minute, waiting for Steve to say something, but he’s too preoccupied with the lump in his throat. He knew that was all it was, but hearing it was like a punch to the gut. It takes all his self control to keep the tears at bay.

Finally, Jonathan swipes his wrist under his nose. “Right,” he says again, and leaves without another word.

Steve puts his head in his hands.

Forget Nancy. Robin is going to be the one to put him in the dirt.

“You told them it was a mistake?” She screeches. They’re so lucky they’re at his house. Or maybe not. It means there won't be witnesses to his murder.

“He agreed with me!”

“You told Nancy there was nothing to talk about? You said that? To her face?”

“Not technically,” he says. It’s a weak defense. “Besides, she was being weird about you! Like me talking to you was somehow insulting.”

“Yeah, because she wanted you to talk to them,” she insists, waving her hands around. “Dingus!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Uh, yes I do. You think Nancy and I don’t talk about you when we hang out?”

Wait, what? He sits up. “What the fuck? Did you tell them—“

“No!” Robin looks shamefaced. “Well, I sort of said you might be open to that kind of thing. I didn’t think it’d end up like this!”

“What the fuck? No, seriously Robin, why the hell would you do that?”

“Because I thought it would be good for you! I didn’t think you’d run away.”

He’s going to kill her. What is it about him that both of his best friends called him a coward? Whatever look is on his face, it makes Robin’s mouth shut with a click.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she swears. “I just meant…you have a habit of running away from things that will hurt you.”

He thinks of Tommy’s kiss-swollen lips, the look in his eyes when Steve walked away. The same eyes in an older face as he shouts at him for the last time. “I have some scars that would say otherwise.”

She nudges him gently. “You know that’s not what I meant. Just…think about it, okay?”

He hasn’t thought about anything else.

He doesn’t see them for another three weeks. They’re doing a stellar job at avoiding each other.

At least they were until Robin became a filthy traitor.

“You left,” Nancy spits, choked up. “You woke up, and you lied to us, and you left, and I thought—we thought—“

“Oh,” Steve says, “yeah, I kind of thought you were going to tell me it was a mistake and I didn’t want you to see me cry.”

“Steve.” Jonathan sounds downright heartbroken, eyes big and mouth turned in a frown that Steve feels awful for putting there.

“I thought you’d be nice about it! It’s not like I pictured you spitting in my face and calling me stupid for thinking you’d ever want me.” He totally did. He had a whole dream about it. Robin told him it was stress. Steve told her he’d give her something to stress about.

Jonathan gives him a look like he knows it’s bullshit. “We wanted you,” he insists. He looks at Nancy, and she gives him a nod. “We… we want you.”

“Oh.” It catches him off guard, even if the whole conversation was building to this anyway. He’s not stupid, he could read the signs just fine, but somehow hearing it out loud is what takes his breath away. “Cool.”

#one night stand au #stoncy #steve harrington #robin buckley #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #SO MANY COMMUNICATION PROBLEMS #if it seems like Steve is being deliberately obtuse it’s because he is hope that clears things up #Like in my head he knows Nancy and Jonathan want him to stay he’s just preemptively breaking his own heart before they can do it for him #stranger things fanfic

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