#all while being told that lives like those of most of the kids around them are the norm

[sidekick-hero]

Here it is, the next chapter of my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai 💜💜💜 Her prompt was 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone'. Shout out to @acasualcrossfade for being the best beta reader there is!

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 2 (4.5k) under the cut

They all went out for dinner and drinks afterwards, and it turned out to be a great night. Robin and Chrissy both went into full planning mode, while Steve and Eddie decided to let them have their fun. Steve figured that if anyone besides himself knew what he wanted for his own wedding, it was Robin, and Eddie seemed to feel the same way about Chrissy.

It’s only after they'd all said their goodbyes that Steve takes a moment to let it all sink in.

As he lies in bed, the pleasant buzz of the fruity drinks he's had to celebrate slowly fading, he begins to realize what it will mean to marry Eddie. To have a real wedding.

Because a wedding ceremony means he has to tell people. It will be official. And while he's not exactly hiding that he's bi, he's not exactly out at work either. It just never really mattered, because in the two years he's been working at the station, he hasn't seen anyone outside of hookups and a few failed dates. Most of those were with women anyway. So he hasn't exactly lied, just not told the whole truth.

That would have to change now, he guessed. Because even if he didn't invite his team to the wedding - which he will, because they're his family, too - Captain Hopper would know because of the paperwork. Steve knows that if he asked Jim, he wouldn't tell the others. But he would also look at Steve with disappointment and hurt because he would feel that Steve doesn't trust them, and the thought of letting down the man who has become the closest thing to a father figure he has in his life aside from Robin's dad is unfathomable to him.

Which means he's going to have to tell his team, and sooner rather than later.

Just as he somehow accepts this and decides to go talk to Jim before his next shift, another thought hits him.

Max.

He's going to have to tell his little sister. Worst of all, he doesn't even know what to tell her, because either he'd make her an accomplice to his scam, or he'd lie to her and pretend that he and Eddie had been together for a while. Which would make her think that he has been lying to her for months and hiding his relationship from her.

Then he remembers that the same goes for Dustin, the kid he used to babysit and who has become as much his little brother as Max is his little sister. The family he chose. He's either going to have to lie to him, too, or drag him into this whole mess.

Fuck.

After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, his mind racing, Steve finally gives up trying to fall asleep and rolls out of bed again. Wrapping his blanket around his shoulders, he shuffles over to Robin's room. Selfishly, he's glad that Chrissy went home with Eddie tonight, so he can just walk into Robin's room and crawl into bed with her.

"Dingus?" her sleepy voice greets him, already scooting over to make room for him.

"Yeah, it's me. Couldn't sleep."

She turns on her side and forces her eyes open with what looks like great effort. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," he answers, only it sounds more like a question. The truth is, he doesn't know what to say.

Robin just hums, and after a long moment of silence, he speaks again.

"It's just. Chrissy said nothing has to change, but that's not true. Things will change. I have to tell Hop and the others at the station. They don't even know I'm bi, it's like high school all over again."

Robin makes a sound in the back of her throat and takes his hand in hers. "No, it's not. You were outed against your will in high school. What that asshole Hagan did was a complete dick move. These people are your friends, your family. Even if you tell them that about yourself, I'm sure they won't feel any different about you, Steve."

Deep down he thinks he knows that. Or at least he hopes it's true. But it's still nice to hear Robin say it.

"Maybe. But they're going to hate that I lied. They'll probably think I don't trust them."

"Well," Robin begins, choosing her words carefully, "can you blame them? There must be a reason why you haven't told them yet."

"It just never came up," he justifies.

"Steve," she says, her tone clearly saying 'come on now'. "I've been to the last two Christmas parties at the station, and I met your team at your birthday. You talk about your dating lives and your hookups and even your childhoods. They know about Max and your bad relationship with your parents. Don't you think you could have said, 'Yeah, I don't talk to my parents because they're total scumbags who kicked me out the minute they found out I liked men too'?".

He sighs deeply, defeated.

"You're right. I was afraid they would look at me differently. That they'd think less of me, like -"

"Like your parents did. I know. But Steve, not everybody is like your parents. They don't know what an amazing person you are. A wonderful and loyal friend, a selfless and brave man who risks his own life every day to save others, and a loving and caring older brother who is more of a role model than they've ever been."

Steve feels his eyes burning and his throat tightening with emotion.

"And yet you wouldn't marry me," he deflects, and Robin punches him in the shoulder.

"Way to ruin the moment, Dingus."

"What can I say, it's a talent," he says with a wink before sobering up. "But seriously, thanks, Robs. You're the best friend I could ever ask for. I would totally crash and burn without you."

"I know. For the record, you're not so bad yourself. And as for things changing. You know change doesn't have to be a bad thing, right?"

They've talked a few times about his aversion to change. It scares him because he's always afraid it means he's going to lose something. Or someone. He's working on it.

"Yeah. I know." Theoretically, he adds quietly in his head.

"And you know you won't lose me or Max or Dustin just because things change, right?"

“I-” he starts, almost hating the way Robin knows him so well. “I guess?”

"But I might have to lie to them, Robs. I can’t drag them into this mess. What if they end up hating me when they find out I faked a marriage and lied about it? Or what if they’re mad because I never even mentioned this ‘relationship’ with Eddie before?”

"They won't hate you, Steve. They might be angry or hurt at first, but they would get over it. They love you, okay? Just like I do. No matter what happens. Even when we’re not living together anymore, it doesn’t mean we won’t see each other all the time or that we won’t be as close. You’re my best friend, my platonic soulmate. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Her words soothe something deep inside him, where his heart has never quite stopped aching since the day his mother silently closed the front door in his face, leaving him standing there with his hastily packed bag after they told him to leave and never come back. As all of her words fully register, he involuntarily squeezes her hand.

"What do you mean, 'when' we're not living together anymore?"

The longer it takes for Robin to answer, the faster his heart starts beating, until he thinks he might have a heart attack.

Just as he's about to ask again, Robin answers. "I mean, now that you and Eddie are getting married, Chrissy and I thought that, well, Eddie would probably move in with you, and that I, um..."

"That you'd move in with Chrissy," he says flatly. It's not a question.

"Yes," she whispers, as if afraid he'll break if she speaks too loudly. He very well might.

They lie quietly in Robin's bed, the darkness around them like a living, breathing thing.

He has never felt so lost. It's not that he doesn't get it—he does. Robin and Chrissy have been together for four years now, and having separate apartments has worked for them so far. But Steve understands that they'd want to share a life and an apartment at some point. He just didn't think that time would be now. But it makes sense, because he and Eddie are supposed to move in together when they get married.

It's just that, in his mind, that didn't equate to Robin moving out.

"Steve," Robin tries again, clearly worried but determined to fix this. "I don't have to move out right away. It was just an idea. It doesn't mean it has to happen right away."

"No. No, you're right. It makes sense. It's just," he hesitates before pressing on, "whenever I thought about one of us getting married, or at least moving in with a partner, I still thought we'd be living together. It's silly, I know," he adds hastily, because he does know that, "and way too co-dependent."

"It's not silly, Dingus. I won't deny that it sounds pretty co-dependent, but it's not like that's, I don't know, new for us?"

That makes him laugh, if only half-heartedly.

"And who says we won't? Maybe we can, y'know, try the whole living apart thing, and if we don't like it, we'll work something out. It's not like there aren't options. We could get a house for the four of us. It doesn't have to be all or nothing."

Drawing Robin into his arms, Steve makes a thoughtful sound. "I'm pretty sure you're right, because you usually are. Just give me a little time to get used to the idea, will you?"

It's a testament to how well she knows him that Robin—guessing he's feeling raw right now and needs the physical reassurance—settles into his embrace without a fuss.

"Of course. It'll be fine. With your team and Max and Dustin. And with us, too. I hate that your parents made it so hard for you to trust people's love for you, you know?"

He kisses her forehead gently, putting all the love and gratitude he feels into the gesture, and murmurs into her hair, "Me too."

The next day, after a hearty hangover breakfast, Steve decides to bite the bullet and face his little sister's wrath. After his talk with Robin, he came to the conclusion that he’d rather risk Max and Dustin being angry at him for seemingly lying to them about his love life than involve them in his own mess and make them accomplices to his wedding scam to get his inheritance.

Even though part of him would prefer to do this over the phone and not look Max in the eye when he tells her, a larger part of him knows that this is something that needs to be done in person. So he makes the trip to her campus and finds her in her room, nose deep in her studies, when her roommate opens the door for him.

It's not often that he comes to visit. Not because he doesn't want to, but because she insists that she doesn't want her older brother hanging around and embarrassing her in front of her friends. He would be more offended were it not for the fact that Max regularly comes to their place for game nights like the secret dork that she is. Besides, he's pretty sure that Max just wants more of a reason to hang out with Robin, not just him. She never had many girl friends, just Jane, her best friend, and Steve thinks that Max looks up to Robin. Which is cool, because in Steve's eyes, Robin’s the best person ever and Max could have much worse role models.

Things were a little tense when Robin first started dating Chrissy, probably because Max felt threatened by the new woman in Robin's life. But she got over it surprisingly quickly, and now Chrissy joins their game nights more often than not. That's how Max knows Eddie in the first place, because he makes a habit of showing up mid-game to join them, claiming he was bored all alone at home, abandoned like a badly behaved dog. Steve doesn’t really believe him, because he knows well enough that Eddie has friends and gets out quite a bit, but it's not like he minds Eddie hanging around. He just wonders sometimes why he would lie about it.

"Hey, little sis! Studying on a Saturday morning? Sure we're related?”

Max looks up from her textbooks, a mixture of surprise and suspicion flickering across her face at the sight of her older brother dropping by unannounced. "Hey, Steve. What's up?"

On the way here, Steve had thought about how to open the conversation, but hadn't been able to make up his mind before entering the dorm. Should he just say it, get it over with, or should he ease her in? Start with some small talk? Max isn't really the small talk type, but it feels wrong to just say, 'Good to see you. Guess what, I'm marrying Eddie, the guy who hangs around the apartment sometimes and you had no idea I was even dating. Surprise, I guess.'

Yeah, no. Small talk it is.

"Can't I just go visit my little sister and see what she's up to?" Steve deflects, flinching at Max's raised eyebrow.

She looks thoroughly unimpressed as she replies, "Steve, we saw each other three days ago. It may come as a shock to you, but college isn't exactly like those stupid movies. So, spill it. What's so important that you had to drop by unannounced?"

Well, he should have known this wasn't going to work on Max. She's always been way too smart for her own good, and her bullshit detector is unparalleled.

Steve takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the bombshell he's about to drop. "So, remember Eddie? The guy who's been crashing our game nights with Robin and Chrissy for the past four years? The guy who eats all of the good snacks and leaves the rest of us with the salty popcorn?”

Max nods slowly, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, funny story... He and I, uh, we're getting married."

Max's jaw drops and she almost chokes on the coffee she just took a sip of. "Wait, what? You’re getting married? To Eddie?"

Steve winces, realizing he might have botched the delivery. In his defense, he’s not sure there is a better way to deliver this kind of news. "Yeah, I know it's a bit out of left field. But hear me out..."

He starts explaining his thing with Eddie, weaving in a story that's only partly made-up. Steve talks about how he's kinda had a crush on Eddie for a while but never really thought Eddie felt the same. Max doesn’t look surprised at that part, just nods like she’s saying “Duh,” and Steve wonders how transparent his feelings for Eddie really had been.

Before he can get lost worrying about that, he goes on, making up some romantic-sounding story about how one night, they were just watching a movie, and boom! Next thing he knows, their hands are both going for the chips, and suddenly their fingers are all tangled up, swiftly followed by their lips. Max rolls her eyes so hard that Steve’s afraid she’s hurting something, but he also sees the corner of her mouth ticking upward. Robin once told him that she and Max had watched a few rom-coms together when he wasn’t home, so he thinks she secretly likes these kinds of stories almost as much as he does.

He finishes his story by shrugging his shoulders and admitting that he’d been the one to ask Eddie to put a ring on it, eager to lock down the guy he's been into for ages. It’s exactly the kind of self-deprecating joke he needs to lighten the mood, unable to endure the building tension in the room.

"And I know what you're thinking. 'Steve, you never even mentioned you were dating!' But trust me, it's not because I didn't want to. I just... didn't know how to break it to you."

Max's eyes narrow, her hurt evident. "So, what, you don’t trust me?"

Steve's heart sinks at the hurt in Max's voice. God, he never wanted to hear her sound like that again. It dredges up memories of all they've been through with their family, the wounds still raw. “No, Max, that's not... Damn it!” Steve curses, frustration and guilt knotting in his stomach. “I'm screwing this up. That's why I didn't tell you in the first place. I just... I didn't know when to tell you. You've always been there for me, especially after Mom and Dad...” His voice trails off, heavy with the weight of it all. “It's my fault you lost them. I didn't want you to lose anyone else because of me, so it felt like a big risk to bring someone new into our lives.”

Max's expression softens, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh, Steve. You’re an idiot." She sighs, rolling her eyes for effect. "It’s not your fault I stopped talking to them. I chose you over them because you're my brother, and they are bigoted assholes who hurt you."

Max's words feel like balm on his frayed nerves, but at the same time he is consumed with guilt for using their shared history and pain to make her believe his lie. He knows why he's doing it, but suddenly the phrase "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" makes a lot more sense to him.

It seems that some of this has registered with his sister as well, because Max isn't finished yet.

"But I also call bull. This isn't about me. You're scared. Scared of getting hurt again, of letting someone in and having them leave. You didn't tell anyone before because that would have made it real."

Steve swallows hard, the weight of Max's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. His relationship with Eddie isn't even real, but her words still hit him. They've been through too much together for him to deny that she's right. He owes her that if he can't tell her the whole truth.

"Yeah, you’re right. It’s just that… I’m scared of messing things up, I guess. With you, or with Robin..."

"Or with Eddie?" Max adds, a sad smile on her face.

"Or with Eddie," Steve agrees, realizing it's true. He doesn't want to screw this up, even if it's just a scam. Eddie is still important to him, and he doesn't want to lose him because of some scheme to get his inheritance.

Max reaches across the table to grasp Steve's hand, her touch as comforting as when she first stood in his door, declaring she told their parents to screw themselves before hugging him, clinging to him for dear life. "You won't lose me, Steve. I'm here for you, no matter what. And Eddie seems like a good guy. He would be even dumber than I thought he is if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you. So, if he makes you happy, then I'm happy for you. And if you tell anyone I said that, I'll shave your head in your sleep."

Even as he laughs at Max’s threat, Steve's eyes mist over with tears, overwhelmed by Max's unwavering support. "Thanks, Max. You have no idea how much that means to me. Threats and all."

Max squeezes his hand gently, a small smile playing on her lips. "Anytime, big brother. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Please don't let this turn into one of those rom-com clichés where everything goes horribly wrong because no one just talked to each other."

Steve chuckles through his tears, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I'll do my best, Max. I promise."

As much as he’d dreaded this talk, he’s glad he came over to tell Max. He feels lighter now.

Some days, he hates how often Robin is right about the important things in life, considering that she also believes that Bigfoot is real.

He's already out the door a few minutes later, after Max basically kicked him out so she could learn, when she gets up and walks over to him. “Oh, one more thing. I’ll be bringing someone to your wedding and I want you to remember that you owe me and not ask a single question. I’ll tell you when I tell you, just like you.”

“What? Who're you -” Steve starts, totally flabbergasted.

“Not a single question, Steve. See you soon, take care, say hi to Robin, and tell Eddie that I’ll break his hand if he breaks your heart.” With that, she closes the door in his face.

He probably deserved that.

Talking to Dustin the next day goes something similar.

Steve can't visit him on campus because the little genius just started his master's degree in bioengineering at MIT, a year ahead of his peers, because of course he is. So he has to resort to a phone call.

He skips any attempt at small talk, though, mostly because Dustin is doing the talking for both of them, telling him all about something that is way over his head, but makes him smile for all the passion he hears in Dustin's voice.

"That sounds... very cool, man. I have no idea what it all means, but I'm pretty sure you're going to be cooler than Batman pretty soon." Before Dustin can interrupt him to explain whatever he just said about DNA replication, Steve continues, "I also have something to tell you.”

That, at least, piques Dustin's interest.

Steve tells him the same version of his and Eddie's origin story that he told Max, and just like Max, Dustin doesn't seem to find it particularly hard to believe that Steve had a big ol' crush on Eddie and proposed to him over it. What he finds much harder to believe is that neither Steve nor Eddie told him about it.

"I can't believe Eddie didn't tell me either; we tell each other everything!"

Steve seriously doubts that, even though he knows that Dustin and Eddie have become quite close over the last four years. They hit it off right away, bonding over their weird little fantasy game that Dustin's been playing with his friends for as long as Steve's known him. Eddie apparently ran a club for the same game in high school, and before Steve knew it, Dustin and Eddie had become best buds. Dustin's passionate stories about how great Eddie was should have made Steve jealous, and they did, a little. But they also fueled his crush on the other man, because nothing in his life could ever be simple.

That's probably why Steve finds himself defending Eddie by throwing himself under the bus.

"I asked him not to tell you guys. I'm sorry, man. It's just..."

Dustin's silence on the other end is unnerving. Steve can almost hear the gears turning in his brain. He can picture Dustin sitting in his cluttered dorm room, probably surrounded by textbooks and lab equipment, frowning in concentration.

"It's just what, Steve?" Dustin finally asks, his voice a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"It's just that I was scared," Steve admits, the words coming out in a rush. "Scared of messing things up. I mean, this thing with Eddie... it feels huge. I never felt that way about anyone before. And I know it sounds stupid, but... it scares the shit outta me, man. And I know how much you like Eddie, too, so, yeah. I didn't want to risk putting you in a position where you felt like you had to choose sides or something if it didn't work out, I guess?”

The line goes quiet for a moment, and Steve wonders if he's said too much. Especially because he has no idea where this is all coming from. He also finds it harder and harder to remind himself that it’s just a story and that he and Eddie aren’t really together. But then Dustin sighs, and it sounds like the weight of the world is in that sigh. "Steve, you idiot. You know I love you, right? You and Eddie both. I’d never take sides, I’m way too mature for that. You should have trusted me."

"I know, I know," Steve says, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just... didn’t think this through, I guess."

"Yeah, well, that’s why you have me. You don't have to handle it on your own," Dustin says firmly. "We're a team, remember? And that means relying on each other and not keeping secrets."

“You’re right, okay? I’m sorry, Dustin.”

Apparently, that’s exactly what Dustin wanted to hear, because Steve can hear the smug grin in his voice. “I know. And it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Steve feels too much relief to be annoyed at Dustin’s ego. To know that he has Dustin's loyalty and support like that mean the world to him. It’s like balm to the wounds his parents and grandma left on him, to learn that not everybody leaves just because he hasn’t been perfect. "Thanks, Dusty. I don't deserve you."

"You're right, you don't," Dustin retorts, but Steve can hear the smile in his voice. "But you're stuck with me anyway. So, when's the wedding? And don't even think about getting married without me there."

Steve laughs, the tension finally easing. "Don't worry, you'll be there. I wouldn't dream of having it without my groomsman."

"Groomsman, huh? Damn right I am," Dustin says, and Steve can practically see his chest puffing out with pride. "But wait, who's the best man? If you say it's Eddie's old dungeon master, I'm gonna lose it."

"Robin," Steve clarifies, chuckling. "She’s my best man, or best woman, whatever you call it. And before you ask, I’m pretty sure Eddie’s best man is Chrissy."

"Ah, makes sense," Dustin says with a satisfied nod in his voice. "I can accept that, I guess. But you better tell Eddie that if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass. And you tell him I mean it, too."

"I will," Steve promises, a smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Dustin. Really."

"Anytime, Steve. Now go tell Eddie that I’m still angry at him for not telling me and he better make it up during our next campaign."

Steve hangs up the phone feeling lighter than he has in days. At least until he remembers that he just told Max and Dustin a story about him and Eddie getting together that he hasn’t discussed with Eddie yet. So what if Eddie also told people but used a totally different story?

Well, fuck.

Grabbing his keys from the side table by the door and putting on his shoes, he texts Eddie that they need to talk and that he’ll be over in twenty minutes.

[byanyan]

me two years ago: byan has always been a little bastard. awful nasty child who intentionally used their big doe eyes to manipulate people

me now: byan used to be a soft baby who just wanted love and acceptance, who slowly became hardened and selfish in order to survive when they realized they'd never get what they needed

[definitelysel]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[radioisntdead]

Good evening folks! Here's a drabble I wrote as a warm up, not my best work but it's short And it was written at three am, Enjoy!

The radio man's Wife

Alastor x female reader

Warnings:

Human Alastor, murder, Not much Alastor in here but he's here, victim blaming the dead people

You could ask anyone who had met her and they would tell you that The local radio host's wife was the sweetest person they had ever met, a real angel on earth, she'd help out her neighbors, delivering fresh baked goods to those in need, she'd help take care of the neighborhood kids while their parents got away for a night,

She was a saint, who was to know that she had married a monster? She was just another unwilling victim right?

After all,

She was just so kind!

but even those who appear kind could do the cruelest of things, sweet words secretly drenched in venom, dressed in soft unsuspecting colors, her eyes that held nothing but fondness for the person she married and distain for those who stood against him, for those who ran his name through the mud.

She'd gleefully turn a blind eye to the wicked acts he did, being nothing but a bystander, at most she threw a few sickly sweet words to the victims that left them feeling sick to the pits of their stomaches before they perished.

She'd clean up any remaining mess he left behind, making any leftover carnage into fertilizer for her beautiful garden, mopping up the blood stained floors, or digging up a deep grave in the nearby woods for him to drag a body or two into.

She willingly laid next to someone who had countless people's blood on his hands, she'd give nothing but a love-filled smile at him,

She'd dance with a repeat murderer while soft jazz played on the radio each night after dinner, after the dishes were done and dried He'd take her hand and they'd dance.

She'd give a small kiss on the cheek, telling him to stay safe and leave him to his business slaughtering folks.

After all they deserved it right? They weren't truly good folks, Her and her dear Alastor believed ? that wholeheartedly, and Honestly it's their own fault for being easy targets

Right?

No one would believe you if you told them beforehand that the charming radio host, Alastor was a cold blooded murderer who had claimed multiple lives,

After all he was so charming, always with that smile on his face that could make anyone swoon, although you could never exactly know what he was thinking, people adored his voice and his radioshow where he'd play the tunes of the time, and briefly speak about the recent disappearances of people, telling everyone to stay safe.

It's truly the charming ones you should look out for.

It was only revealed when someone hunting in the dead of night mistook her dearest Alastor for a deer, shooting him swiftly through the head, killing him almost instantly, leaving him to be bitten and torn by man's best friend.

The phonecall she got when it was discovered was heart wrenching,

Her beloved Radio host went from charming to his name being thrown around, treated like a monster, [Which he was, he killed people] his office was cleaned out swiftly after being searched for anything alluding to his crimes, the home they shared was searched and torn apart for evidence as she sobbed into the arms of a supportive, unsuspecting neighbor,

After everything went down she was either scorned or deemed a unfortunate lady who unknowingly married a murderous monster, she had parts of the community that took pity bring around casseroles and give her words of comfort.

It couldn't have been more then a year since Alastor had gone, a family member of one of his victims wanted revenge, however since the murderer was already six feet under, why not go for his widow?

In the dead of night carrying a gun he crept into the home she once shared with her beloved, he moved passed the picture frames on the walls, from events, Their wedding photos and pictures of family, all were hung up neatly.

He opened the door, a creaking noise rung out throughout the house,

He moved forward towards the bed where the widow laid, deep in a slumber she'd never wake up from,

The man lifted up the gun and shot her right in the heart, She didn't know what hit her.

Arising from the ground she brushed herself off, the sight of brimstone and the harsh smell of sulfur filled her nose,

She didn't know what killed her, maybe a heart attack? Perhaps she choked on something in her sleep? Well there was no use in wondering, what's done is done, and from the looks of it she definitely ended up in hell, wasn't surprising after all she did help out her husband in his crimes.

With a quick look at herself, she made a face at the animal ears that protruded from her head, along with the matching tail on her back, shaking her head she began walking around to explore the place.

She supposed it was time to go find her dearly departed darling now wasn't it?

Good evening folks! Thank you for reading!

I'm making my way through requests and a couple of them will hopefully be out within the week! Stay tuned!

[whateversawesome]

Some Theories about Anya's Name

Who would have thought a short chapter would bring so much information and discussion? But then again, we're talking about Anya, agent of chaos (according to her papa).

After that chapter, there's plenty of theories flying around, so I decided to make this post to compile, explain and expand these theories 😉

Ready?

Anya is an acronym: This one is pretty clear has been a popular general theory. It means that the letters of her name stand for something else. What exactly? We don't know yet, but it probably has to do with Project Apple and the infamous lab Anya was created.

Anya...Ania...OstANIA: If you live near small children, you probably know that when they are learning how to talk, they do it by picking up words adults say and many times they say those words wrong. While discussing with some friends, I imagined those scientists constantly saying the word Ostania in front of that little girl. Maybe baby Anya thought that was her name because she heard the word OstANIA all the time, but she couldn't say it right.

Anya, the foreign princess: This one is very simple. It means that her name was spelled differently in her country of origin. This theory is vague, but I do believe a third country could be involved in all this mess. Also, it would make sense for Anya to be hiding in Ostania, if she was born and kept captive in a different country.

Anya...A N/A: This one is one of the most interesting theories! A N/A would mean something like "Non-applicable". You probably think this doesn't say much, but it really does. In the first few chapters of the story we learned that Anya was adopted and returned 4 times. Instead of a child, she was returned as if she was a piece of clothing. Even though it's been barely mentioned, we've also learned that people that participated in Project Apple didn't treat the subjects nicely (see how they treated Bond). Those people called Anya "subject 007". They didn't even give her a name. If we think about it, Anya is very "non-applicable". She was created in a lab, she has a strange power, so she's not like the other kids, she's been adopted and returned 4 times...

The A N/A and Anya being treated like an object instead of a human being fits the Spy x Family premise of the story, which is: Humans like Twilight, Yor, and Anya are used as weapons instead of being treated like humans. The story is about them regaining their humanity through love and family.

So even if A N/A says nothing about Anya, it says a lot about the story.

Look at this little girl. This illustration was heartbreaking. Do you know when it takes place? It's right before he meets Twilight. We see that it's the same filthy orphanage Twilight visited on chapter 1 and this is not Anya's first orphanage, so that means this illustration happened after she was returned again. The way she's facing the door, her body language, the way she holds Mr. Chimera by the hand is so sad. Here she is, once again, in a place she doesn't want to be, where nobody will take care of her...alone 😭

Enough of that or we'll end up crying...🤧

Some other things to take into consideration about her name:

Mr. Chimera: Since this is a visual story, that panel of Mr. Chimera tells us that this plushie is involved in Anya's name. If you've read certain fic, you know where I stand on that. In this case, I think that yes, the person who helped Anya escape gave Mr. Chimera to her. However, I don't think it was exactly that character (you know who). It probably was someone else, maybe even a new character we don't know yet. It could also be a scientist who took pity on Anya or disagreed with the use of children as lab rats, and helped her escape. We don't know yet.

Twilight: One of the most beautiful panels on that short chapter was seeing Anya's eyes lit up when her papa told her the correct spelling of her name. Did you see it? Those were the eyes of someone who had just learned something new about herself and by doing this, Twilight made her even more human.

One more thing...I've seen speculations about the next arc of the manga being about Anya's past because of this short mission. In my opinion...I don't think it'll happen yet. Why? If it was the case, this would have been a longer chapter and the actual beginning of the arc.

I believe Anya's past will be one of the last things we learn, because there's plenty of things to resolve and a lot of information we don't have. Stories are like puzzles; this chapter was an important piece, but we're not working on that part yet.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny has way to much fun fucking with the bats after a while. Jason is too until Danny bites him after some unwanted human contact. Alfred gets a big wave of nostalgia when Danny does it too.

Danny can say that the Waynes have been ridiculously welcoming, all things considered. He still hasn't come clean about not being Bruce Wayne's alternative double, so to throw them off from finding out the truth and have a safe place to crash- he's missed plumbing- he has been invited to the Wayne Manor and has been lazing about when under their watch.

If there was one thing apparent, it was that Bruce Wayne did not laze about. It was mind-blowing to those who knew him to see Danny- a version of Bruce- act like walking across the room for a remote was too much work.

It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.

The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.

Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.

Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.

The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.

Fine by Danny

. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.

Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.

He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.

He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.

This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.

If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.

A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.

"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.

"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."

".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."

"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."

"Yes."

"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."

Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."

"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."

Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."

"I really did. Jason tested me."

Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."

"I am comfortable doing nothing."

"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.

Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.

"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."

Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.

He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.

"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.

"I like that."

Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.

On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.

No one has noticed that half of the tech has disappeared.

[steddieas-shegoes]

no more waiting

for @steddielovemonth day four prompt ‘love is being willing to wait for them’

a fix-it for these: steve pov | eddie pov  

rated m | 1,094 words | cw: post breakup, implied sexual content | tags: getting back together, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶

Steve should’ve called him Tuesday when the news broke.

And then he should’ve called him Wednesday when he ran into Wayne at the store and he said Eddie was coming home for a bit.

By the time Thursday afternoon came around, he didn’t need to call him. He was standing at Steve’s front door.

“Eddie.”

“Steve.”

It was stilted, more awkward than they’d ever been, even when they “broke up.”

“You just get into town?” Steve asked as if he didn’t know.

“Yeah,” Eddie answered as if he didn’t already find out that Wayne had told Steve his exact travel plans.

“You wanna come in?” Steve asked like he’d die if Eddie said no.

“Yeah, please.” Eddie replied, just short of begging.

Eddie knew where to go, knew how to act like this was his home just like he had for nearly a year before leaving. Before Steve insisted he leave.

He settled on the couch, leaving room for Steve to sit close, but not touching.

Touching would be too much, too painful.

“You saw?” He finally asked, picking at the hole in his jeans.

“Yeah.” Steve reached over to pull Eddie’s fingers away from the string hanging off his pants. He didn’t let go as he spoke. “I’m proud of you.”

Eddie’s eyes bounced between his own, searching for the hint of a lie, jealousy, anything that might give him an excuse to stay away. But as he expected, as he hoped, none of that was in Steve’s eyes.

“It doesn’t mean shit to me,” Eddie admitted.

Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion, his body tensing at the unexpected hostility in Eddie’s tone.

“None of it means a fucking thing to me without you.”

“Eds-“

“I know what we said, I know. But I can’t do it anymore. The first person I wanted to call was you. The first thing I wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress of my bunk on the bus. There’s no world where I can be a rock star without you standing there with me.” Eddie looked down at their joined hands. “I don’t care what it means for me. I don’t care what it means for the band. I don’t care if I have to give it all up tomorrow. I just want you.”

"I won't let you give it up, not now. You finally made it, Eds," Steve pulled one hand away to wipe at his eyes, equal parts happy to hear that Eddie still wanted him and sad that he couldn't have him. "I can't let you live to regret me. I couldn't wake up one day knowing that you blame me for keeping you back."

"Then come with me! Don't keep me back!" Eddie was crying as much as Steve, eyes red like he'd already been crying before he got to Steve's house. "You're keeping yourself back. What are you gonna do when the kids go? They don't wanna stay here, so they'll spread out and you'll still be here. You'll have wasted years being here for them. What about being there for you? What about letting them be there for each other and calling them up once in a while like I do? Like Robin and Nancy do? You don't owe anyone here anything, especially not if it costs you your happiness."

Steve had heard it all before from everyone, even Dustin, even Hopper, but it never really sunk in. It wasn't really now, either, but he was at least trying to think through it.

It made sense, but it always had made sense. It's just that what made the most sense was being here for the people who needed him.

"Do you really think those kids would be upset if you tried to be happy? Do you think they would rather you stay here and be miserable?"

"No." That answer was easy. The kids would never want him to be miserable. Nobody in their group would.

"Then be happy, Stevie. Be happy with me. I'd do anything to keep you happy," Eddie begged, lifting his hands to kiss his knuckles. "I want you to do this with me. I wanna sing to you every night, sweetheart."

"What if you get tired of singing to me every night?"

Eddie shook his head, smiling fondly at the man in front of him. "I can't imagine a life where I'd ever get tired of seeing the way your cheeks turn pink and you get that goofy smile on your face when I look at you from the stage. But if it did, then you can come right back here or go to Robin or anyone, because everyone loves you and wants the best for you."

Steve knew that, always had known that deep down.

"So the guys are just cool with me tagging along?"

"The guys will be thrilled to not have me pouting 22 hours of the day. They'll welcome you with open arms."

Now was when they could seal it with a kiss, maybe even let themselves get carried away, strip off their clothes, hurry through months of yearning in a few minutes. They could take it to the bedroom, or the shower, or the floor if they wanted to risk a sore back. They could leave marks that would take days to fade, and laugh about the way Eddie always, always makes the same whimpering noise when he gets inside Steve. They could, but they don't.

Steve leans his head against Eddie's shoulder and Eddie cups the back of his head, lets his fingers twist in his hair. They both let out a sob, recognition of how much they missed each other, how stupid they were for thinking being apart was better for either of them, finally sinking in.

"I'm sorry." Steve breathed against Eddie's neck, shaky and unsure.

"I'm sorry, too."

They stayed curled up on the couch together for hours, until Dustin showed up yelling about Steve not answering his phone. They hadn't even heard it ring, so wrapped up in their own bubble.

Eddie shooed him away, told him they'd be by to see him later, and surprisingly, Dustin left.

Only then did they manage to get up and go to Steve's bedroom, undressing as they went, lips never far from skin, as they got reacquainted with the taste and feel of each other.

Later ended up being the next morning, but luckily, Dustin didn't say a damn word when they both showed up at his door holding hands and beaming more at each other than at him.

[livwritesstuff]

Tommy POV, wc: 2890, full version on ao3

Tommy Hagan is not jealous of Eddie Munson.

He’s not.

There’s nothing to be jealous of, in his opinion, and Tommy probably wouldn’t be thinking about him at all if Eddie wasn’t the most publicly well known member of his graduating class – well, he hadn’t actually been in his graduating class, Tommy supposes.

They had been seniors at the same time, though.

If Tommy happened to be jealous of anything – and that’s a big if – it would probably have something to do with the famous thing. Everyone has a small part of them that wants to be famous at least in some capacity, he’s pretty sure, even if Eddie isn’t really, truly famous – not like the red carpet celebrities. He’s a writer. Even the most well known writers never get all that much attention, but Munson has his own Wikipedia page, and that’s more than anybody else from Hawkins, Indiana can say. Hawkins itself barely even has a Wikipedia page, and it’s only because of all the atrocities that happened in town in the mid-eighties.

Tommy hadn’t been around for the end of it all – the earthquake-slash-serial killer situation that never made any sense to him. He remembers his mom calling him at his college dorm when the deaths first started. He remembers her asking, “You went to school with that Munson boy, right? Do you think he could do something like this?”

And Tommy had been twenty and a total moron, so he’d said some dumb shit like, “Yeah, he’s into freaky stuff like that. Somebody should’ve put him on a list ages ago,” even though four years of experience told him that Eddie was all bark, no bite. Tommy hadn’t been surprised at all by the statements that later came out clearing Eddie's name, and by then his parents had already high-tailed it out of Hawkins so it all sort of became irrelevant to him.

Tommy never even returned to Hawkins one single time after he left for college (barring his high school reunion, obviously), and twenty years after graduation, he doesn’t really think about those years all that much.

He doesn’t love the person he’d been in high school. He was whiny and immature and had his priorities all messed up. Most of the memories he has of his teenage years, he looks back at and cringes, feels a whole lot of shame and embarrassment, but also some pride at how much he’s grown over the last twenty years. He also knows he’d been kind of a dick in high school, but that he’s less ashamed of. It’s normal, he knows, for kids to be mean, that it’s a standard response to being untreated kindly in other ways. Like, his dad had been an asshole to him as a kid, always on him about his grades and his smart mouth and how he’d no longer been a standout on any of his sports teams after starting high school, and Tommy had coped with that by poking kids beneath him at school. 

It’s just the pecking order of high school. It’s normal.

Even now, when Tommy’s son had dealt with some pricks in the year above him shoving him around, he had come home from school and tormented his little sister for a while – it’s normal, no matter how much his wife had tried to convince him it was something that needed addressing. It’s just kids being kids. They grow out of it eventually, just like Tommy had.

Occasionally he wonders where the kids he’d spent all those years with in the Hawkins public school system had ended up, but these days the internet makes that pretty damn easy to figure out.

He’s learned Tina got married and had kids real young. She still lives in Indiana. Carol, who he’d split up with before heading off to college, lives in Alabama now and she’s got kids and a husband too. Jonathan Byers is a photographer in California – Tommy isn’t into all that art-y crap, so he has no clue if he’s any good, but he definitely recognizes some of the organizations he’s worked for and if that’s any indication, Tommy would wager he’s not too shabby. No wife, though, he noted, so he’d either been right about Byer’s being a queer, or women just found him repulsive (admittedly, Tommy leans more towards the former – he’s a photographer). Tammy Thompson still lives in Tennessee, though it doesn’t seem like she does music anymore (husband, kids, blah blah blah). 

If he’s honest, the only person Tommy is actually interested in tracking down is Steve Harrington, and he’s the one person Tommy can’t find a single trace of online. No MySpace, no Facebook, no weird blog thing, nothing.

Vaguely, he wonders if Steve might be dead. A truly massive proportion of Hawkins had died over just a few short years in the mid-eighties. Maybe Harrington was one of them.

Tommy doubts it. 

He would have known. 

Steve’s parents would have made sure everyone knew if their son had died. Funnily enough, Steve’s mom is actually on Facebook, and pretty actively too, but there’s no sign of Steve anywhere on her page. 

He hadn’t even shown up for their high school reunion in the winter of ‘04, which is odd because Tommy had been certain he would.

He doesn’t obsess over it – he really doesn’t. It’s just a thought that pops into his mind every now and then – where the hell is Steve Harrington?

In the late spring of 2007, he gets his answer.

“Tom,” his wife says, “That guy from your high school is on the cover of this magazine.”

He knows without asking for clarity that it’s Munson – no other person makes sense – and when he eventually gets his hands on the magazine, he finds that he’s correct.

Eddie Munson is on the cover of a magazine because, apparently, he published another book. 

Truthfully, Tommy already knew that. 

It’s his fourth book (which, for the record, Tommy hadn’t known until he knew it because it’s not like he’s keeping tabs on this guy or whatever), and it’s been getting a whole bunch of mainstream attention after a controversial landing on the top of all those book charts Tommy doesn’t follow despite featuring a gay love store amidst all his normal fantasy crap. It sparked a whole debate about banning books and everything (dumb, Tommy knows, because if he learned anything in business school it’s that if you really don’t want something to exist, the best thing you can do is not funnel money and attention into it). 

Tommy does, in fact, watch the news so he’d already caught wind of all this – it’s part of the reason he can’t shake the guy – and it’s why Eddie Munson is on the cover of this magazine (because, seriously, nobody gives a shit about writers until it hits the news).

He allows himself a moment to look at the cover, to look at Eddie, who apparently goes by Ed now. Tommy is loath to admit it, but he looks good. His hair is normal and he’s grown into his frame, not all long and lanky and gangly limbs like Tommy remembers from school. He looks well-fed, confident, happy.

He looks good.

Tommy thumbs through the first few pages of the magazine until he reaches Eddie’s interview, and, again, he allows himself to look over the photo of him that takes up nearly three-quarters of the first page even if he has no intention of actually reading the article itself because, again, Eddie looks good (and maybe there’s something about the scruff of facial hair along his jaw that Tommy's eye gets stuck on). Tommy’s allowed to say that men look good when it’s true – it’s 2007, as his wife likes to remind him whenever it’s convenient for her, and if she’s allowed to say that Angelina Jolie looked good in that CIA movie, then Tommy is allowed to say that Eddie Munson looks good here.

When Tommy flips to the next page, he’s met with a photo that stops him in his tracks, has his feet frozen to the floor because –

Jesus Christ, that’s Steve Harrington.

Fuck, okay, so he’s reading this fucking article.

It takes Tommy a long time to get through it, honestly. Eddie comes out in the article, which might be a big deal, might not (and he doesn't care to be enlightened, thanks). He keeps getting distracted by the pictures scattered throughout it.

The pictures of Steve, mostly.

Because, well, if Eddie Munson looks good, Steve…

Steve looks alive.

Tommy didn’t realize it until this exact moment, but Steve had existed in his head for the last two decades as the eighteen-year-old he’d been the last time they were in the same room together. It hadn’t exactly occurred to him that Steve’s been aging this whole time too, just like Tommy has.

It’s undeniable that Steve is older. 

His hair is starting to go gray at his temples (it’s the only thing that’s changed about his hair since he’s still styling it the same as he did in high school – because why mess with a good thing, Tommy supposes) and he’s got just the hint of crow's feet around his eyes when he smiles. He’s smiling in all the photos – every damn one – and it has Tommy struck by how unbelievably happy Steve seems. It’s an effect that somehow both takes years off the age Tommy knows he is and shines a light on just how good those years must have been for him. 

There’s no solo shots of him like there are for Munson – though according to the article, it's actually Harrington now – and only half the photos are in color. The rest of them – the more candid ones – are smaller and left in black-and-white. 

The one that caught Tommy’s eye first – because it was meant to, he’s pretty sure; it takes up half the page – is right in that sweet spot between staged and candid where Steve and Eddie both know that they’re being photographed even though neither of them are actually posing. Eddie is grinning at Steve in a wicked way that still feels familiar to Tommy even two decades since he’d last seen it on him (probably swaggering around the cafeteria like a total jackass – not that Tommy would know anything about that). Steve is grinning right back at him with a smile Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

Or maybe he has, but not on this version of his face, not since Steve was as young as his oldest daughter.

Just as the author of the article said, the photos don’t show the faces of Steve’s children, either leaving them artfully out-of-focus or choosing shots where they’re turned away from the camera, but they’re still present, and it makes the whole spread almost feel like a photo album in a way, like it should be private but instead was published for the whole world to see.

Steve has three of them – kids, Tommy means. He didn’t know that Steve was a family kind of guy. It makes sense though, when he thinks about it. Steve’s parents were kind of a nightmare — present in the worst ways, and absent in the worst ways too (though it hadn’t seemed that way when Tommy was a teenager looking for a failsafe party house). He'd always felt kind of bad for the guy. Like, Tommy's dad had been a total piece of work, but they'd at least been around, and he'd stuck around long enough for them to sort out their issues at least most of the way, and these days he's a pretty kickass grandpa to Tommy's children.

Tommy wonders about Steve's parents now, wonders if they maybe came around like his own parents had, but then he remembers Mrs. Harrington's Facebook page and how there's not a damn trace of her son on there, never mind three grandchildren.

Tommy isn't sure he wants to touch that.

Steve is probably a really good dad, Tommy decides. He’d been kind of that way when they were friends — Steve used to say he wasn’t all that bright, but he always had a freaky sixth sense for reading people, for caring about them in exactly the way they needed.

There's one photo where Steve is managing to holding his youngest daughter — a tiny little baby still — and her bottle in one arm (that's a level-three dad hold, Tommy knows). The bottle is angled in a way that obscures her face, and Steve's other hand is being tugged on by another daughter, this one with a mop of curly brown hair remarkably similar to Eddie's when it was still long.

That's another thing Tommy won't let himself think about, (because he knows if did he'd start wondering if any of those kids were half-Steve).

Anyways, Tommy doesn't need glance to see that Steve wears fatherhood like a favorite sweater.

There’s something about this, about seeing these pictures, about the way Tommy is getting an answer to that question he’s had for years about where his childhood best friend has been all these years, that is making him feel like his ribcage is being split open, bones splintering and shattering as everything vulnerable inside his chest in suddenly out for display.

He probably should feel uncomfortable, right? Like, a guy he’d been seriously close to growing up — sleepovers and gym locker rooms and all that shit — had turned out to be gay. If his own son came home from school saying that his best friend came out or whatever as gay…well, again, it’s 2007, and Tommy doesn’t think his wife would allow him to denounce the friendship entirely, but there certainly wouldn’t be any sleepovers anymore. He thinks that’s pretty reasonable.  

What was the likelihood that Steve had been, like, into Tommy?

And that should be an uncomfortable notion too, and in a sense, it kind of is, but not necessarily in the way he would expect. 

He just doesn’t understand why all this feels so much like a loss because he knows that he hasn’t really lost anything – not since he got his hands on the magazine, anyways. Steve Harrington hasn’t played any sort of role in Tommy’s life since their final falling out in 1984, and as far as he’s aware, having a falling out with a close friend is pretty much a guaranteed part of growing up. His wife even experienced something similar when her own grade school best friend suddenly stopped answering calls and stopped reaching out after they’d started college – and his wife is basically the nicest person Tommy has ever known, so…it happens to even the best.

It’s just…Steve had always continued to exist in Tommy’s life in a way, even if he wasn't physically present, and maybe Tommy had figured it could be the same for Steve too, that maybe he sometimes wonders where Tommy is, wonders what he’s up to.

This article and these photos makes it pretty fucking clear that Tommy doesn’t even exist in the same galaxy as the life Steve is living.

And that’s not to mention the Eddie fucking Munson of it all.

Tommy had been kind of ignoring the Eddie of it all until he couldn’t ignore it anymore, because he doesn't care about Eddie Munson.

He'd never cared, but he'd spent years seeing the guy's face and his name everywhere, and now it feels like a sick joke, like he's the piece of Steve left in Tommy's life.

If the article is accurate (and he has no reason to believe it isn’t), Steve and Eddie have been together for longer than Tommy has even known his wife. Steve has been with Eddie for longer than Steve was ever friends with Tommy – not by a lot, but still more. That’s a long fucking time, and it’s clear as day on both of their faces that they’re just as in love with each other fourteen years in as they were on day one.

It’s not just Steve, and it’s not just Eddie, and it’s not one more than the other. It’s both of them.

There’s one photo in particular – a small black-and-white one that keeps pulling Tommy’s attention.

It’s another candid shot, taken from a bit of a distance. In it, Steve has Eddie boxed in against the counter in what has to be their kitchen. Eddie is leaning back against the edge of the granite countertop and looking at Steve with something sappy and fond on his face, and Steve’s hands are this close to grabbing Eddie’s waist as he looks at him the exact same way.

It’s shit out of a fairy tale or something, and sure, maybe someone could argue that they’re laying it on thick just for the sake of the magazine or whatever, but Tommy knows Steve Harrington and that look on his face is more real than Tommy had ever seen in all the years he'd known him.

So maybe Tommy has a reason or two (or three or four) to be jealous of Eddie Munson.

[slytherinshua]

CHERRY BOWS

genre. fluff. cheol as a dad. warnings. toddler/parent stuff. cheol gets jelly. pairing. husband!scoups x wife!reader. wc. 1k. request. request by @blue-jisungs: you asked for soft hours n i shall give!! it’s been in my mind for a hot while actually but i’m too busy rn to do it myself… and you’re the perfect person bc U MADE ME THINK IF TJAT 🫵🫵 jealous dad seungcheol :( ofc he loves u n ur kid but give him some attention too smh >:T and requested by anon: i love your svt as dads!! they’re all so cute and i’d like to request one for cheol! a/n. i love love love dad cheol omg :( my second dad fic for him hehe <3 hes so girl dad coded and SOOOOO ADORABLE SKDJKS I LOVE HIM!!!!

“You ate without me…?” Cheol’s sleepy mumble was the first thing you heard from him. He had tiredly trudged downstairs when he had woken up and you weren’t next to him in the bed. It was already a bad start to the day when that happened, and he was frowning and pouting and generally sulking about it by the time he found you.

He wrapped his arms around you from the back, trapping you in the middle of the living room so you couldn’t continue without giving him the attention he needed. You smiled at his clinginess and deep raspy morning voice, but scoffed at how baby-like he was in the morning. Sometimes he acted even more like a child than your actual child. 

Eunha was your now 2 year old daughter. She was adored by everyone and constantly doted on. She could be a handful at times, but only because she had started to take after your bossiness and knew exactly how to appeal to Seungcheol. If she ever wanted something, all she had to do was look at them with those big boba eyes that she got from him, and he’d be folding.

He loved her more than anything. Probably even more than you, but you were okay with it. It warmed your heart how much he cared for his daughter. He’d die for her in a heartbeat without a second of hesitation. You were learning more and more every day the love a father could hold for his children. You had expected this attitude when you married him, of course. Because you knew him and you knew how caring he was. He was so filled with love for people and the world, and you were so lucky to have him.

Starting a family had always been a dream for both of you, and Eunha’s birth had been your biggest blessing. It was challenging to take care of a toddler, but you and Cheol always did your best.

Eunha was happily playing with her toy dolls after eating breakfast— the entire living room spread with her mess. It was always a constant of cleaning her toys in the evening just for her to make a new mess the next day, but you didn’t mind. It was worth it to see her so happy, and though it could be stressful to have a messy space sometimes, her happy giggles made up for it.

“Were you playing dolls with her without me as well?” Cheol asked, the pout he was wearing somehow finding its way into his tone. You giggled and he squeezed you tighter out of jealousy. He didn’t want to admit that he missed your attention being only on him, but it was true. 

You were getting up earlier to feed Eunha and play with her in the morning. The sleepy morning cuddles that Cheol looked forward to every time he fell asleep next to you were becoming rarer and rarer and he felt bitter about the change. It just wasn’t the same with Eunha. It wasn’t worse, it was definitely better in most aspects, but the free time that he had enjoyed before was being sucked away by the little child.

“She wanted me to be the doctor.” You told him, explaining the dynamics of Eunha’s favourite game. She would be the mother to her little baby doll, and either Cheol or you would usually be the doctor.

“The bed was so cold without you…” He murmured, pushing his cheek against your neck. His skin was warm against yours and you leaned into him more, savouring the feeling.

“I’m sorry. You know that Eunha likes to get up early…” You whispered.

“She should’ve woken me up instead of you. Aren’t you tired?” 

“A bit. Eating breakfast with her was nice, though. She insisted on having strawberries with her yogurt since she had seen me eat it like that once.” You smiled. Seungcheol pouted.

“I thought I was her favourite…” He was mostly joking, of course, but slightly hurt. He had always been susceptible to jealousy. Maybe he was a little too greedy— he loved watching you and Eunha spend time together, but he also hated being left out.

Your little moment of warm embrace was interrupted after 2 minutes, a giggly Eunha running up and clinging to her father’s leg. She babbled something about her doll and wanting to get ice cream later today, which you were sure Seungcheol would indulge her in. He spoiled her too much.

You were happy to see your husband’s pout lift up into the sweetest of grins. He picked up Eunha, holding her so that she was resting on his hip. He kept one arm around you; almost if you would run away and leave him if he didn’t. Which was probably partially true since you hadn’t cleaned up from breakfast yet.

“Give daddy a kiss?” Cheol asked Eunha, giggles ensuing amongst both of them. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek cutely and you smiled. Now that Seungcheol was awake as well, the two would be inseparable for the rest of the day— especially since Cheol didn’t have any work to get to.

The morning happily proceeded with a small second breakfast and playtime. Now that your husband was being included in every activity, he was all smiles and giggles. He liked being the centre of attention; you had discovered that fact throughout the years. He was the happiest man in the world when he knew he was making his daughter happy.

Her happiness always came first, even when it relied on Seungcheol’s hair being tied up in pigtails with little cherry-coloured bows because Eunha wanted to play hairdresser. You were almost envious of how cute he looked in them. It was impossible not to love everything that Cheol did.

Along with the bows came matching sweaters with a cherry pattern for father and daughter. One look at the two and you could easily declare them the two cutest human beings in the entire world.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @edensgardenn,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cienlvrs,, @amara-mars

[beatrixstonehill2]

Vince walked around his town's annual Oktoberfest celebration, catching sight of someone he hadn't seen in years, his high school crush, Natalie. Only not quite how he remembered her. "Wow, Natalie! Get a load of you.... looking better than ever!"

"Oh my god, Vince! I'm soooo happy to see you! And thanks.... I'm getting that a lot." She giggled, giving her belly a few good slaps as she guzzled her beer, wiping her lips afterward.

"Damn, you're putting those things away, huh? I remember you used to be all straight-edge, education comes first. You were cute, but not a whole lot of fun."

"Gee, thanks. I know, I know, I was so stuck up. But that's all changed now, and for the record this is my fifth beer already! Which, mmmm, reminds me!" Natalie slightly spread her bare legs and feet, pissing without a hint of embarrassment. "Mmmmm, that feels so good! I hope you don't mind." She bit her lip, talking as she pissed shamelessly in front of everyone.

"Not at all, a girl your size probably can barely control it, I bet."

She shook her head, still going, taking a big sip of her beer. "Just barely. I'm such breeder now, I'm getting used to just pissing myself if I need to. My womb is gigantic most of the time, my poor bladder's crushed. All the beer I drink probably doesn't help either. Mmmmm...."

"I can't believe how much you've changed. Last I heard you were a big shot in going to University in the city, about to get your Bachelor's. I still remember you tutoring me in English and I felt like a moron talking to you. Everyone knew you were the smartest girl in class."

"Those were the days! Well, I did good in college but my family talked me into dropping out and giving up on my education."

"What? For real?"

Natalie slapped her belly so hard it made a loud smacking noise. "Uh-huh! You know my family are pretty traditional, Christian types..... Sooo, they asked to talk to me and basically said that they were being quiet about how they really felt. They were proud of who I was becoming, but deep down wanted me to return to my small-town roots. They told me they always hoped I'd be barefoot and pregnant, sleeping around town, popping out kids left and right with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. They talked about how they prayed I'd come to my senses and lead a normal girl's life like God wants, or whatever. They said I should be breeding and having tons of sex with all kinds of guys, satisfying the local men, not leaving one behind. I should always be pregnant, and basically make my whole life about pleasure, to embrace being dumb, and to stop embarrassing them by being this super smarty city girl in college."

"And just like that you gave it up to make them happy, become a dumb little breeding cow?"

"Yep! Pretty much.... And I've got to say, I'm way happier living a simple life like this. I have all the sex I want with whoever, drink all I want, smoke like a chimney, show off my massive belly full of kids to entice the locals into getting out a little pent up frustration on me! I do such a wonderful service to the community now. I really feel like I'm giving back every time these men fill me with their seed and pound away at my poor, swollen pussy...." She giggled, giving her belly another slap, finishing her beer. "Oh! All done.... better get another. You want one?"

"Sure, I guess."

"That's the spirit! While we wait in line how about you bend me over, hike up my skirt, and show me how big a crush you really have on me....."

"Damn, I should've come back home way sooner I guess...." He gave Natalie a playful spank, leading her to the waiting line at the makeshift tavern nearby, his cock already anticipating getting to finally fuck his first major crush, with some added weight, a much bigger ass, and a huge belly full of kids. He knew in the coming days they would need to do a lot more catching up, while she could still walk, that is.

[matan4il]

My grandparents were all Holocaust survivors. A large part of my family was murdered in that genocide. I chose to deal with the family trauma by becoming an educator on this subject. I give tours, lectures and workshops on the Holocaust, on antisemitism and on Jewish history.

Intellectually, I'm perfectly aware of how the massacre that Hamas perpetrated is NOT like what the Nazis did. More Jews were murdered over the course of just two days in Babi Yar (33,771 men, women and children), which is just one Nazi shooting pit out of almost two thousand, than during the entire Israeli-Arab conflict. Even after the carnage brought on by Hamas, this is still true. The Nazis were far more systematic (which eventually made them turn industrial) in carrying out the genocide of the Jews than Hamas has been. There's no comparison in terms of scale and industrialization.

And yet emotionally, I can't help but be hit by the similarities in terms of the immediate brutality of the murderers and the experiences of the Jewish victims. Because I am listening to the testimonies and some are so eerily similar to my research, I simply can't process how these are from recent days, not 80 years ago.

Jewish kids hiding from their would be murderers, scared to make a sound for fear of being discovered and killed.

Jewish families completely wiped out.

Jews asking themselves how did they survive and the person next to them did not.

Jewish people executed in droves, their bodies piled up.

Jews begging to be spared, to no avail.

Jewish women raped, most of them then killed.

Jewish babies executed in barbaric ways.

Jews being burned, some after being murdered, some while alive.

Jewish communities devastated. Take kibbutz Be'eri for example. It was founded before the State of Israel. Despite many terrorist attacks, it has continued to thrive in Israel's south. A small, close knit agricultural community. Over 100 people (at least) have been slaughtered there. Homes were destroyed. Everything the kibbutz's economy was based on was laid to waste, too. Be'eri has become synonymous with the worst of the carnage. IDK how they'll build their lives again after the war is over. IDK if they can. A community of almost 80 years, quite likely gone.

Foreign reporters who had been to kibbutz Kfar Azza all talked about the eerie silence and the stench of death rising from the bodies. Eerie silence is exactly how visitors to the sites of the shooting pits describe those places, while the allied soldiers who liberated the Nazi camps talked about the stench of death there.

Some of the reactions to this massacre also remind me of the Holocaust. Even though the Nazis, the murderers themselves, documented their extermination of Jews, there are those who deny the Holocaust happened, painting the Jews as liars. Similarly, even though Hamas documented themselves, and released the footage themselves, there are people going around denying the atrocities, painting the Jews as liars.

Then there's the justification of the mass murder of Jews by insinuating they brought it on themselves... Back in 1943, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, aware of the plight of Jews under the Nazis, told government officials in Allied-liberated North Africa that the number of local Jews in various professions “should be definitely limited” so as to “eliminate the specific and understandable complaints which the Germans bore towards the Jews in Germany.” Understandable complaints. Understandable complaints of Germans against Jews. Roosevelt, the liberal president, said that while Jews were being exterminated by the Germans. In the same manner, we're seeing people justifying the murder of Jews at the hands of Hamas, even though it's a known antisemitic terrorist organization which has repeatedly called for the murder of all Jews in the world. According to the Simon Wiesenthal Center, a reportedly Hamas affiliated Imam declared, "If the Zionist state were to move to the other end of the Mediterranean, our war would not be over, for the enemy is the Jew.

And while I stand by my statement that the scale is nothing alike, the carnage that took place in Israel IS the biggest massacre of Jews since the end of the Holocaust. Not even during Israel's Independence War and some of the massacres of Jews that happened during it (like the Kfar Etzion massacre) were this many Jews murdered during a single day.

Just like so many were silent back then as Jews were being both killed for being Jewish AND blamed for their own murder, many are silent now as well. Don't get me wrong, there are A LOT of amazing people who reached out to their Jewish friends, who showed they care, who took to the streets, who held vigils for the massacre's victims! Many heads of state also condemned this vicious attack. But I'm looking at Tumblr specifically, and it is FULL of posts justifying Hamas' slaughter of Jews. They're being reblogged everywhere, spread in every fandom. People who claim to stand for social justice feel absolutely no shame sharing such de-humanizing posts on their blogs. And what do we do? Are we calling them out? Do we make it clear that it is morally unacceptable to blame Jews for their own murder? Do we unfollow these bloggers, so that at least the dropping numbers send out the message that it is unacceptable to justify the massacre of innocent people?

TLDR:

This massacre is not like the Holocaust, but the cruel antisemitism that motivated it is the same. Let's not let antisemitism thrive here. Please do what you can (whatever that is) to stand for what's right.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[amoosarte]

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐃 𝐘 𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐑, 𝐂.𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙 𝐉𝐑

SUMMARY ! in which Carlos and his wife enjoy their little life in spain with their children but are somewhat a cute family dynamic !

FACECLAIM ! julia.hatchh, TROPE ! long lasting love !

It was no secret that Carlos Sainz Jr. wanted a family of his own. Growing up in a household that held so much love was all he ever wanted in the future. He and his sister were showered with love since well..forever.

Carlos thought of it all the time while holding his wife in his arms every night, in his eyes it would be a long night for him but he wouldn't nag about it. Carlos was a sincere man, he would shush his wife to sleep when she was overstress and tired, massage her hair to caress her to sleep, then hold her while looking at her delicate body.

Carlos would study the women that had catched his heart with just a look. Those brown doe eyes just looking at her like she was the moon, he was looking at her in a way a woman dreamed of. He was utterly in love with her, wishing to be by her side forevermore.

Lana was a woman that was soft spoken, a woman that would praise him for right about everything. She would shower him with love when feeling low. She was his best friend, a woman he could never get tired of.

When the topic of children rose in conversation, Lana became shy. She had admitted she did want a family with Carlos and said it was always a thought in her head. She dreamed of them having his eyes and his way loving. It had almost brought him to tears, twirling her around in excitement.

With that, they were blessed with a baby boy. His name soonly becoming Lorenzo Sainz, most of his uncles calling him 'Enzo'. A boy that look exactly like his mamita, but having his papitos eyes. He was and adored toddler until simply two years later he had his baby sister.

Carolina Sainz was her father's carbon copy with her mamitas eyes, and she was a daddy's girl. Becoming the princess of the Sainz family, with everyone adoring her.

Carlos decided that this would be enough for him, becoming traumatize with his wife pregnancy. Lana would admit both of them were harsh pregnancies but she didn't want to let her husband down.

Now they were a simple family living in spain, somewhere near a part of the ocean. In hacienda spanish style home, where both children live their childhood dreams.

"Caro, linda, estás listo para ir a ver a papi?" Lana said while making her son look presentable. Lorenzo just looked at his mother while she called out for her four year old daughter. "Si mami, me miro bonita?"

Although she looked like her father, she had a bit of her mother witty personality. "Preciosa." Lana smiled at the girl, sitting her down on the bathroom counter. Her silky brown hair were tied into pigtails, making her look absolutely stunning. "yo tambien?" her little boy said.

"guapo." She said before kissing them on their cheeks, staining their brown skin with a lipstick stain. "Listos para mirar ver a papá en su auto de carreras?" Lana smiled sweetly at them, watching them nod furiously.

They left the house on time, driving to see Carlos drive. It was somewhat special since it was a home race but if Carlos was being honest, it was Carolina's first time watching him race in person.

Trust that he told every soul in the paddock, and they loved seeing the spanish driver all excited. Though he wished it was under a better situation, Ferrari didn't extend his contract and he somewhat he needed to focus on landing on the podium.

"Well aren't you excited!" A very well known english accent rand from behind him. "You have no idea." Carlos smiled sincerely at Lando, making the younger boy laugh. "Is our princess coming for the first time today?" Lando was not going to express it but he loved the kids to an extent.

"Yes, and I must land on the podium to celebrate it." Carlos said half serious and half jokingly. Lando rolled his eyes playfully the wishing him luck.

Carlos had entered the Ferrari garage before a squeak called out to him. “Papi!” There she was the golden girl of Ferrari.

"Caro!" Carlos immediately crouch down to embrace his little girl, a large grin spreading like wildfire across his lips. "Papi! Papi! estoy de igualitas con mami!" Carolina let go of him and jumped before spinning around. "Si? Donde esta mami preciosa?" Carlos asked and right on que, Lana walked right in.

She was wearing white sundress with her red ballerina flats, looks gorgeous in his eyes. Then his eyes drifted to his son, cuddled in his mother's arms. Carlos sighed before listing his little girl up into his arms. "Todo bien amor?" Lana asked him, earning a smile from him.

"Se puso mucho mejor desde que te vi entrar.." Carlos kissed while she let out a small laugh. Carlos then felt a small hand push him off his wife, right beside him was his son looking quite annoyed. "¿No te dije que tu mamá no puede te cargar por tanto tiempo?" Carlos told his son who just stuck his tongue out.

"Papi, es tio cha!" Carolina squealed and ran to one of her uncles, who gladly picked her up. "Tioo cha!" Enzo jumped out of his others arms and ran towards his uncle. While the kids were occupied by their uncle and knowing colleagues, Carlos dragged his wife to his arms who gladly embraced him.

"Todo bien amor?" Lana asked yet again but in her soft honey voice, making Carlos melt almost immediately. "Solo estoy nervioso." He mumbled into her ginger hair, she then let go of him and walked towards Charles. "Can you watched them for a minute Charles?" She asked him, making him nod and go towards Alex to introduce the kids to her.

"Amor, no tienes por qué estar nervioso, eres un gran piloto, eres el mejor." Lana cupped his face after entering his driver room, making him relax a bit in her arms. She smiled softly analyzing every adoring feature on him, of course she saw bits of children in him and that made her happy. Carlos would say the exact same thing, he could only be so greatful.

"Dale gana, pero no olvides que te amamos." With that she kissed him on his nose. Carlos had laughed just a bit before lunging in to kiss her properly.

With his wife and kids encouragement, Carlos came out on 2rd, proudly standing at his home podium. With Carolina and Lorenzo screaming happily for their papa. Not missing how they ran towards him after his podium, knocking him to the ground.

What a cute family.

MENTIONS ! @landitolover, @moneygramhaas, @d6za1, @ch3rryknots @louvrepool @thearchieves

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉, ⟢ more!

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!reader x bodyguard!joel miller

genre: super duper explicit smut, actress & bodyguard au, minors dni

word count: 4.5k

summary: an afterparty, weed, drinks, a grumpy bodyguard, and an eccentric actor. What can go wrong?

warnings: mlm dynamics, threesome, blossoming feelings, messy two-person blowjob, piv, polyamorous, dieter has a praise kink, hair pulling, bdsm dynamics, high sex, getting high, this is an au where sarah was never conceived sorry, petnames all around (good boy/girl, sweetheart, darlin, honey), guidance kink, handjob, implied age gap reader being the youngest and joel being the oldest

a/n: you voted and here it is! This can be considered as a continuation of the drabble I wrote but you don't need to read that in order to read this. It just takes place in the same universe. enjoy! If you want to see more adventures of bodyguard!joel and actress!reader feel free to send requests xx

Joel is a grump. 

He knows this. Everyone does. He’s been called many things before in this industry: unkind, an asshole, a fucker, a bummer, a grumpy old man. But despite all the negative feedback, he’s never been out of a job. When it comes to feeling safe and secure, everyone realizes that pleasantries aren't really a priority. After a while, he learned to let those remarks bounce off of him. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy having fun; it’s the fact that this industry is riddled with slimy, untrustworthy characters. You could be happily sharing a drink one moment, and the next you could find your drunken words being sold off to the highest bidder. He has a lot of stories, some of which he wishes he could forget about.

However, he's not a kid. Far from it, actually. So he also knows that not everyone fits the bill of assholery. He's met some nice people, worked for them, and thanks to those nice people, he met you— one of the biggest rising stars of your generation. You're actually quite kind— albeit a bit of a brat, but he's starting to realize that side of you might be reserved only for him. Most impressively, you've managed to knit yourself a loving, supportive circle. He met your family once and has a sneaking suspicion they had something to do with your good manners.

Family. He misses his. Tommy still lived in Austin, running a not-so-shabby bar. 

Joel used to pride himself on not getting involved in his clients' affairs, but with you, that proved difficult.

A sea of people crashes into him, pushing him in the opposite direction of where he's trying to go. These Hollywood parties, they're always the same - loud music, annoying lights, and foaming glitter always coming from somewhere. He catches a whiff of champagne and strawberries. Rolling his eyes, he helps a director he barely knows who stumbles and nearly collapses on the shiny marble floors. With one swift motion, he grips her torso and lifts her back up. She slurs a drunken thank you and moseys off.

He hates it when you drag him to parties, and he hates it even more when you disappear. By some miracle, he spots you sitting down within the awfully lit room. You're wearing a mermaid-style dress (at least, that's what you told him prior to the event), which hugs your curves in all the right places. The fabric is covered in pearls, giving it a shimmering, iridescent quality that catches the light and reflects it into his eyes - thank fucking god, or else he suspects he'd never find you in this crowd.

His relief in finding you is short-lived when he sees who you’re sitting with. 

Fucking Dieter Bravo. 

You know he doesn’t like the man. Of course, you would sit with him just to spite Joel. That’s what he hopes this is anyway, he’s praying to every god he can think of (which isn’t many) that this isn’t a blooming friendship, or something else. He doesn’t think he can handle seeing that man more than he has to. 

Ironically, Joel actually used to work with Dieter. It only lasted for about a week as Dieter was just too unpredictable and chaotic for him. A complete hedonist who was used to getting what he wants. Before Joel could resign, Dieter had fired him. Which was good, because Joel wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually gone and done it. 

Joel feels a mixture of excitement and anxiety as your entire face lights up upon seeing him. With an open smile, you wave frantically and point to the couch across from the two of you. It's a tight fit, and his knees brush against both yours and Dieter's as he sits. The actor is holding a joint loosely between his fingers, looking up to Joel and nodding in a way that resembles an informal greeting. Joel notices the vibrant pattern of his button-up, the chain around his neck, and the rings on his fingers. Dieter takes a drag then offers it to you. Your gaze briefly meets Joel's before you take it from him. However, you don't immediately bring it to your lips.

“Where were you?” Joel asks loudly, trying to get his words over the sound of the music. “You can’t bring me to these things and then just disappear on me.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” you answer with an apologetic smile. Joel narrows his eyes and you bring the neatly rolled joint to your glossy lips. You take a deep, long inhale. He watches the way your body seems to melt unconsciously. You close your eyes. “I just saw Dee and you know his habit of disappearing as soon as you blink. Had to pounce him before that happened.” 

Joel’s eyes drop to where Dieter slides an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes fixed on Joel. Your eyes flutter open and much to Joel’s surprise, you extend the joint to him. 

“Don’t bother, sweetheart,” Dieter says, his lips too close to your cheek. Joel bristles unknowingly. “He has a stick up his ass.” 

“Dieter!” you hiss, glaring daggers. “Behave.” 

“I don’t smoke on the job.” Joel says, a bit smugly and enjoying the other man’s prominent pout. “Unlike some, I’m a professional.” 

Dieter scoffs. The joint still lingers between your fingers, your gaze snapping to Joel. You accusatorily point at him, your brows drawn together. “And you—” you warn. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You’re off the clock remember? I invited you here so you would loosen up a little.” 

What? 

“What?” he blinks rapidly. “Why on earth would I need loosenin’ up? And why would I want to loosen up with you lot? This ain’t exactly my scene honey.” 

“Because we’re friends, smartass.” you chide. The burnt tip of the cigarette is now closer to your fingers. With a sigh, Joel finally takes it, which provokes a burst of laughter from Dieter. 

“She has you on a leash!” Dieter points out, fingers digging into your hip and moving over the pearls. “That’s fucking adorable.” 

Joel grunts, “Shut up.” he takes the joint clumsily, holding it up to his lips. It’s been a while since he’s done this. When he does he usually prefers the privacy of his own home. Joel ignores the way your eyes are fixed on him, two wide eager eyes eating him up from head to toe. 

He takes a deep inhale, his lungs expanding with smoke. Joel can taste the champagne you left behind. Goosebumps rise over his skin, a tingle, and a buzz making him groan. He allows the smoke to linger inside him, then, without parting from the joint much, he exhales. It’s very subtle, but he notices both you and Dieter taking deep breaths, filling yourselves with his breath. He’s amused. His lips twitch as he takes another drag. Then he extends it back to Dieter. The actor doesn’t waste much time and wraps his lips around the butt of the joint deliberately slow. Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. Dieter takes a deep breath, exhaling cannabis in a way that the smoke doesn’t move forward, it pours from between his lips, like a dragon’s mouth. 

Joel doesn’t think much of it, now feeling more relaxed than ever, he says, “You look surprisingly cleaned up. They groomed you well.” 

“Does it look like I care what you think?” Dieter snaps back, and Joel frowns. 

“I think the word you’re looking for is thank you,” you say, words directed at Dieter. Your eyes flit between the two tense men. “Also I'm starting to think you two have some history together.” 

“Didn’t your knight in shining armor tell you?” Dieter grins, rather smug. “He used to work for me.” 

You turn to Joel, brows pinched together with confusion. “You did?” 

Joel rolls his eyes, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up under your gaze. “It was a long time ago.” 

“I fired him.” 

“How come?” 

“Too distracting.” 

Joel breathes a little too fast, the air catching in his throat. He clears his throat, his veins alive with tension. It almost feels like it’s the only three of them now. The rest of the room fading and turning black. Joel leans forward, the already tight space becoming even tighter. 

“Excuse me?” Joel asks, his speech slurred. “What do you mean “too distractin’”?” 

Neither of them answers you. Actors, he thinking begrudgingly, a puff of air parting his lips. Dieter brings the joint to your lips and without taking it from him, you look at Joel. He watches as your lips brush against the length of Dieter’s fingers. Annoyance brews in his stomach. 

“Is he like this with you too? Oblivious?” Dieter asks you. You grin, teeth shining under the dim lights and you nod. The actor’s tongue pokes out from between his lips and swipes over his bottom lip. “Poor baby.” 

“You two are startin’ to get on my nerves,” Joel grumbles, crossing his arms across his broad chest. 

You stick your tongue out and Joel has half the urge to grab it between his fingers and teach you a lesson. He hadn’t noticed, but the joint had made its way back to him. Slightly confused and disoriented, he finishes it off. The last bit of it burning his throat and lungs. He’s incredibly flustered, heat crawling up from his chest to his cheeks. He doesn’t miss the way you and Dieter steal glances at each other, smiling giddily. 

Finally, you find Joel’s gaze, a Cheshire-cat like grin plastered on your face—he’s slightly creeped out by it actually. 

“How about we show you what we mean?” 

Joel should’ve said no. This is the last time he’s ever coming to one of these damn parties. 

Joel wasn’t thinking much when Dieter led all of you to one of the many bedrooms in the residence. Your hand was clutched tightly around his, and per instinct, he had held on to you just as tight. And as soon as the three of them entered the stupidly large bedroom with an equally stupidly large bed, he found himself sitting on the edge with his pants down. The two actors knelt between his legs, eyes hungry and mouths flooded. 

He has to admit, it’s a rather enticing view. 

Dieter wraps his fingers around the base while you kiss the inside of Joel’s thigh. Heat settles at the base of his spine, his cock twitching and growing thanks to Dieter’s slow strokes. You drag your lips up, kissing his shaft before swirling your tongue around the head. A strangled moan leaves him. Joel’s gaze drops, only to see Dieter staring back at him. He holds his breath as the other grins from one ear to the other. 

“You like that?” he coos, darting his tongue out. He licks a clean stripe up, the curve of his nose brushing against yours. “God, the number of times I came in my pants thinking about this. . .” 

Joel’s quick to follow up, “You thought about this?” 

Your sudden bubble of laughter makes him frown. His lips become a tight line, his teeth clenched as he grinds the molars together. He watches as you ignore him and pull away. You cradle Dieter’s cheek, and as if he read your mind, the actor leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. Joel tenses. His skin taut over muscle. His cock stands with attention, beads of precum rolling down his length. The thought of his taste lingering on your tongue, being passed to Dieter—his chest heaves, maybe he is too old for this. 

He sees Dieter shoving his tongue between your lips and you moan into his mouth, Dieter swallows the noises you make eagerly. Joel is surprised he’s not feeling any jealousy or protectiveness. Usually, when the actor attempts to make passes at you he puffs up like a rooster. But not his time. Dieter cups your face with two hands, tilting your head so he can kiss you deeper. Only then it dawns on Joel that the reason he was bothered before wasn’t that he hated the actor—though he still found him annoying—but because he wanted to be included. He almost laughs. Loneliness truly is a bitch. His fingers twitch and he makes a move to cup himself, he pouts when his hand is batted away by no one other than you. 

“No,” you say wetly with swollen lips. “We’re going to take care of you. Isn’t that right, Dee?” the second half of the sentence is directed at the actor who looks just as debauched. But he manages to nod anyway. Then your gaze moves back up to Joel. “Okay?” 

He’s lost for words for a brief moment, mouth opening and closing before he can find his speech again. “Okay.” 

It’s messy. Debauched. Downright sinful. And Joel is ninety percent sure this is all a dream and his alarm is about to burst through the speaker of his phone. Dieter purses his lips and spits into his palm, coating Joel’s shaft with a generous amount. You kiss the head and swallow him halfway, your nostrils flaring as you try to take more of him. Joel’s hand lifts to comfort you but Dieter beats him to it. The actor leans into your ear, smiling slyly. He pulls down the straps of your dress and exposes your breasts. Joel’s mouth feels dry all of a sudden. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Dieter purrs, Joel can barely hear him. “Just breathe through your nose, don’t rush it. He’s a big boy, isn’t he? Flatten your tongue and swallow. That’s it. . .” Joel’s arms buckle as you do what you’re told, his eyes rolling back. Dieter kisses your cheek and kneads your breasts, thumbs wiping over the pebbled nipples. “You’re making him so happy right now. Such a talented girl.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Joel groans, slightly thrusting into your mouth. Dieter meets his gaze and winks, a wide grin spread across his handsome face. 

Handsome. Joel finds Dieter handsome, always has. Though he always assumed he found him handsome in a more general way, the same way he found Oscar Isaac handsome. Some people just are. But he’s starting to think he might like the infuriating actor a bit more than he thought. Or maybe it’s just from the heat of the moment and the weed still buzzing in his veins. Regardless, he’s enjoying the view very much. God, what has he gotten himself into? 

You swirl your tongue and hollow your cheeks. More praise drips from Dieter’s lips. Without thinking much of it, Joel reaches out and touches the side of Dieter’s face. The actor stills for a moment, brows furrowing, a delicious shade of red coloring his cheeks. Joel drags the pad of his thumb down Dieter’s cheek and then cups him tenderly. 

“Good boy,” Joel says before his filter kicks in. “You’re doin’ so well too.” 

Dieter’s face is priceless. He’s stunned into silence, eyes wide and round, lips parted. A low chuckle trembles within Joel’s chest, he continues to trace his thumb up and down the contours of his cheek. Dieter leans into the touch ever so slightly, eyelids fluttering. You must notice the change in the air because you pull away and drag a pointed tongue down Joel’s length. Then you grip Dieter’s chin and guide him down. 

“Have a taste, Dee.”

Joel watches with bated breath as you guide Dieter down towards his aching member. The actor's lips part and his breath hitches as he takes in the sight before him. He looks up at Joel, his eyes dark, before finally taking him in his mouth, tongue swirling and lips tight. The actor's eyes never leave Joel's as he bobs his head, taking more and more of him into his mouth. Joel’s legs shake, his lungs expand, it feels too much, everything tumbling onto him like an avalanche. 

Joel's head falls back, his eyes closing as he feels the warmth of Dieter's mouth. He can hear the wet sounds of his mouth moving over him, the way his lips slide up and down his length, and he can't help but let out a low moan.

You reach out and grab Joel's hand, entwining your fingers. Your touch electric. Leaning over you capture Joel's lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Dieter pulls back, a thin line of saliva connecting his lips to Joel's length. He looks up at Joel with a wicked grin, before taking him back into his mouth. Parting away from you, Joel groans, hips bucking up involuntarily. But when he sees Dieter grinding into his palm, his cock hard and aching under his pants, Joel tugs on his hair, fucking his mouth with shallow strokes. 

Joel’s eyes go wide when the other man chokes, the sound of it equivalent to someone raking their nails over his body. His stomach flips. Something raw and visceral awakening inside him. He thrusts deeper, the head going down the other’s throat. Dieter chokes again and Joel moans, loudly. His heart beating too fast. 

With the corner of his eyes, Joel watches your movements with a parted mouth. You dip lower and drag your lips up his shaft, your mouth meeting Dieter’s. You both mouth at him simultaneously, your tongues dancing. Joel fists the sheets. His eyes fixed where his cock disappears and reappears between their lips. The two moan at the same time, the reverberations seeping into the sensitive skin of his cock and making him shudder. His muscles grow taut. Precum heavily coating both of their lips. Dieter dips his tongue into the slit groaning at the taste, and you unbutton the actor’s pants, sliding your hand under his boxer briefs. 

“Oh god,” Joel swallows thickly, his voice hoarse. “I’m gonna come—” he can feel his body tensing, his breaths coming in short gasps as he gets closer and closer.

You pull away and Dieter follows. Instinctively, Joel pulls at Dieter’s hair, willing the other back to his cock. His cock twitches when Dieter’s eyes roll back at the blossoming pain. You climb up the bed, cradling Joel’s face before slipping his tongue into his mouth. It’s a quick one but leaves him breathless nonetheless. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you mutter, lips moving over his beard. “Will you, please?” 

Joel helps you up to your feet, his hands still shaking slightly as he pushes down your dress, finishing what Dieter had started. He dips down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. His cock drips at the way you moan for him. Dieter stands behind him, his fingers trailing down the center of Joel's back as he helps him out of his shirt. 

You reach for Dieter's pants, feeling the heat rising in your chest as you gaze into his eyes. He watches you intently, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You slide the zipper down slowly, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his boxer briefs. 

Joel steps back, allowing you to guide Dieter towards the bed. He climbs up first, propping himself up against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. You kneel on the bed beside Dieter, your fingers reaching for the waistband of his underwear. You tug them down slowly, revealing his cock, already hard and throbbing. 

Joel's breath catches in his throat as he watches you take Dieter's cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the shaft. Then you pull away from him with a pop and lay down next to him, your head resting on his hip. Dieter’s hands smooth down your body, spreading your thighs. He holds Joel’s gaze as the older man’s mouth suddenly feels dry at the sight of you. 

Joel moves between your legs, his fingers tracing over your slick folds, making you moan softly. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushes inside you. He can feel you getting wetter with every inch. You claw at Dieter’s bicep and he shushes you, one hand moving to the swell of your breasts and holding it gingerly. The small hairs across Joel’s body stand up when you let out a sharp whimper. 

“Dieter,” you whine, eyes glossy. “H-He feels so good.” 

God, you’re shaking around him, your pretty pussy squeezing him. Joel grunts. 

“I bet he does,” Dieter murmurs, eyes looking at where you and Joel connect. He’s only halfway in. “Want me to play with your pretty clit, baby? You’re taking him so well.” 

You nod quickly and Dieter doesn’t make you repeat yourself. Joel swallows. Dieter begins to draw quick, tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp, your lips barely touching Dieter’s shaft. Joel feels you clenching around him, walls fluttering thanks to the actor. Dieter makes a point of brushing the tips of his fingers while attending to your need, and every time Joel feels it, his cock throbs. He buries himself deep inside you, forcing the air from your lungs. Your back arches beautifully, your nails leaving crescent moon-shaped marks into Dieter’s skin. 

Joel's breathing is ragged, his eyes locked onto yours as he pumps into you harder and harder. Your eyes flutter closed. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he pounds into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. 

“Hold me,” you cry out, head turning to Dieter. Joel’s thrusts become harder, faster. “Shit—He’s in so deep.” 

Dieter obliges, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame as your body sways back and forth with the strength of Joel’s thrusts. 

“You’re taking him so well, sweetheart,” Dieter groans, his own cock heavy and dark between his legs. “You look so beautiful with him buried between his legs.” suddenly his eyes snap to Joel’s, and the older man falters a bit, his pacing becoming uneven. “Doesn’t she?” he asks him. 

“She does,” Joel grunts out a response. 

You let out a whimper, Joel can feel you convulsing. Your body growing taut and tense, you’re close. Joel’s not that far from it himself, dangling over the edge.  

“She’s such a good girl,” Dieter continues, eyes never leaving Joel’s. “Isn’t she?” 

“Jesus, she is. So fuckin’ good to me. Always.” 

And with that, Joel witnesses your fall from heaven.

He watches with awe as you writhe and convulse around him, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Your body trembles with every pulse of pleasure that courses through you, and your breaths come in short gasps. You arch your back, a low moan escapes your lips, and your body tenses up around Joel's length. Your fingers dig into Dieter’s forearms s as you ride out the waves of ecstasy that ripple through your body. Joel can feel your inner walls squeezing him tightly, and he groans.

Joel can feel your wetness coating his cock, and the slickness only intensifies the pleasure he feels. He continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening as he chases his own release. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear Dieter praising you both, though mostly you, and he shudders. 

Your orgasm starting to subside, he feels your body relaxing against him. He slows his pace, savoring the feeling of your hot, slick walls wrapped tightly around him. He wants to make this last as long as possible, to make you feel every inch of him. However, Joel knows nothing lasts forever. 

He’s right at the edge when he pulls out, spilling over your stomach. His hot breath slides over your skin, his head buried between your breasts. Unthinking, he presses heavy, wet kisses. The tremors of his orgasm slowly fades and Joel realizes that among the three of them, there’s still one person left unsatisfied. 

Joel looks up to Dieter. Despite his cock still being hard, the head an angry shade of red, he looks content with just peppering the top of your head with kisses. But he must’ve sensed the bodyguard staring because Dieter’s eyes meet his. 

“You didn’t come,” Joel states. 

Dieter rolls his eyes, “No shit,” he follows it up with a shrug. “But it’s okay. Seeing you two going at it was satisfying enough.” 

Joel moves his jaw, thinking, contemplating on what to do. Your lids are heavy as your eyes move back and forth. Watching. The older man comes to a decision and peels himself away from you. 

“Can I?” he asks, pointing at Dieter’s dick. The actor flushes. 

“Can you what?” he answers, voice squeaky. 

“Um. . .Jerk you off. It’s only fair.” 

Joel reaches out a hand and tentatively wraps it around Dieter's shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. Dieter lets out a small moan. His fingers start moving up and down, slowly at first, getting a feel for Dieter's size and shape. Joel has done this with another once or twice before and he can sense his confidence that was already hanging by a thread slowly dissolving. He looks up at Dieter who is already staring at him with half hooded eyes.   

“Is this good?” Joel asks, licking his lips. 

“Fuck yes. I’ll take whatever you give me.” 

Joel’s eyes widen at the admission. He tightens his grip and strokes him faster. Your hand comes up to Dieter’s chest, caressing flushed skin with a smile. You lean closer and kiss his neck, which Dieter hums gratefully. Joel feels the heat emanating from Dieter's body, and the slight tremble in his legs as Joel picks up the pace. 

"Good boy," Joel murmurs, watching as Dieter's eyes close and his mouth falls open. "So well behaved than from what I give him credit for."

Dieter lets out a soft whimper, his hips bucking up into Joel's hand. Joel adjusts his grip, tightening his fingers around Dieter's cock as he works him harder. Dieter drips all over his fingers and he uses it to lubricate his movements.

"You're so hard," Joel whispers, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. His gaze falls on you with slight envy, a tingle spreading throughout his lips. A desire to lay his lips on the other man and feel his frantic pulse for himself is a strong one, but he swallows it down. "You want to come, don't you?"

Dieter nods frantically, his breathing ragged. Joel can feel his own cock twitching. 

"That's it, let go," Joel encourages, stroking him faster and swiping his palm over the head. "Come for us."

With a loud groan, Dieter's body tenses, and Joel can feel the hot spurt of cum as it lands on his hand and on Dieter's stomach. Joel keeps jerking him through his orgasm, murmuring words of encouragement as Dieter's body shakes with pleasure.

Finally, as Dieter's breathing evens out, Joel releases him, wiping his hand on the bedsheet. Dieter looks up at him with a dazed expression, a small smile on his lips.

"Thanks," he says, his voice hoarse.

Joel exhales a stuttered breath, not really knowing what else to say. "Anytime."

“Awwww,” you chime in giddily which gets on Joel’s nerves. “Look at my two boys getting along.” 

[s1m0nth3swag]

Can I request milkman X reader where the reader was always getting in trouble some way or another when they were a kid and they always got bored and just telling Francis stories about what they did when they were a kid?

Such as jumping out the window to go out with some friends because they were grounded and bored, prank calling on neighbours, chasing cars while riding their bicycles in a crowded street, climbing high trees and just jumping off of them, getting into playground fights and things like that..........(I did some of those)

Francis was a boring kid and never did anythings for sure, he'd have a freak out if his partner was somewhat of a troublemaker omg

Thanks for the ask, Anon!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Fluff, GN Reader, Francis being a worried little guy, established relationship, kinda short sorry, Reader is silly

The first time you told Francis about your childhood shenanigans was when the two of you were resting on the couch after a long and hard day. He was comfortably nestled against your chest and inbetween your legs, while you ran your fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss against the top of his head from time to time. He had looked up at you in slight shock and worry after you had asked if he had ever slipped when climbing through windows, for you, that was a totally normal question, for him, it was a reason to be genuinely worry about his partners wellbeing. Afterwards, he was always on edge to make sure you weren't getting too close to any of the windows in the shared apartment. A little too much, in your opinion.

You swore to yourself to tell him your most outrageous childhood stories whenever he least expected it. Partly because you wanted him to understand how normal it was to you, partly because his shocked face was just too funny to you. Genuinely, he looked like you had just told him the world was ending.

The next time you spoke to him about it, you were extra casual about it. "You know, I once beat up an older kid because he threw sand in my buddy's face." You hummed as the two of you were cooking dinner, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head rested on yours while you kept an eye on the stove. Francis had immediately peeled himself away from you to give you that little look of 'what the fuck is wrong with you'. You started giggling, and for a second Francis was relieved. "I thought you were serious." He sighed. "Oh, I am. Your expression was just funny." You responded, a grin on your lips as you leaned up to kiss him softly. Francis groaned in annoyance, shoving you playfully.

From then on, Francis watched you with the utmost care. He was always prepared for more stories - which, of course, was no fun to you since you wanted to catch him off guard. For days, you waited for the perfect opportunity until he came home from work, especially tired. Definitely not up for your bullshit. A perfect opportunity.

You grinned wickedly as he walked through the front door, already sensing his mood simply from the way he slouched and the fact that he hung up his jacket just a little slower than usually - you had grown used to the exact time it took him to walk from the front door to the couch. After living together for so long, it was honestly just habit.

"Francis, love." You called out, the slightest hint of mischief in your voice. He grumbled, knowing you were up to no good, because in all seriousness, when were you ever up to any good (the answer was probably never). "Did I ever tell you about the time I chased cars around my neighbourhood? Or when I broke my leg because I jumped off a tree?" You started, and Francis mumbled something about you being an idiot. You simply chuckled as he walked towards the couch.

You followed him around the apartment for the next hour or so, continuing with your most dramatic stories. At this point, Francis was seriously considering taping your mouth shut, though he wasn't sure if you might already have a story about that. You continued to yap about police arresting you, childhood fights, and whatever else came to mind.

At the end of the day, Francis was more exhausted by you than he had been by work, which was a new low for him, really. Usually, you'd be the one to give him energy, not steal it, and run away while giggling manically - which he honestly thought was a thing you'd do.

At last, he managed to shut you up by saying he'd make dinner and breakfast if you'd just stop talking, a deal you were very willing to take. After all, Francis made such a wonderful house husband - and he wore an apron while cooking, which was honestly lovely eye candy to you. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, smiling. "Thanks, love." You hum, and he sighs in defeat. "You'll be the death of me one day, dear." He responds, though a smile plays on the corner of his lips, and you know he isn't serious.

[monzamash]

it's impossible to win — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 2.5k summary – when you buy concert tickets with your ex but break up a couple of months before the gig, do you go or cut your losses? rating – mature (sexual references, coarse language) a/n – this was inspired by a lovely ask i received during my 2k celebration and based around the band alexisonfire x masterlist

just sent you the AOF tickets.

i told you to keep yours. you love them as much as i do. read

The glow of your phone was too bright, too harsh and so was the reality you didn’t want to face any time soon. You couldn’t keep them. How could you when the reputation of being the ‘notorious ex girlfriend of Daniel Ricciardo’ – man of the people, loved by millions shadowed you everywhere you went?

He was loved more than most and certainly more than you.

She was never good enough anyway; a parasite, they said when the news broke on the petty gossip pages, exposing that you and Daniel were no longer together, itemising every little detail of your downfall for the world to see. Those years of memories, years of loving privately disappeared and in its place were painful ones to heal. They were the best years of your life, or so you thought – blissfully unaware of the distance slowly growing between you and the man you loved more than most – but it wasn’t enough.

You weren't enough to fight for and especially not enough to love more than driving around a racetrack eight months out of the year. He was never there, out of sight and out of mind, leaving you battling for his attention. You weren’t cut out for it, simply put by him while on the other side of the world. It started as a late night phone call to ease the ache in your chest and to keep him close but he couldn’t have been further away. Physically and emotionally. Drifting.

“Babe, this is what you signed up for.”

“No, it’s what I tolerate – it’s what I sacrifice to love you.”

You broke down, knowing this was the end of your relationship and the only thing you could genuinely put your name to. You had lost yourself completely to his life, no longer something you could call your own. Abandoned dreams and forsaken friendships all so you could be there for him; drawn in to his world, naively consumed by his safety and the promise of a life lived together, not divided by oceans – lost to the fishes.

That was until you re-emerged from the lavish hotels and the private planes, sans Daniel – sans your soulmate. The day you ended that phone call, you knew he would be the hardest one to let go of; eternally the one that got away and the one relationship you would have to tell future boyfriends about. And they would probably gasp and ask, not the formula one driver? and you would have to nod and quash their insecurities because everyone loved Daniel.

But nobody loved him more than you do – did. Not even close.

“He said you should use the ticket and honestly, I don’t even think he’ll show up. He hasn’t come to anything we’ve organised since you two broke up – he’s not the kid we knew back in high school anymore… That’s why you dumped his arse, right?”

Right, but you couldn’t say that.

“I didn’t dump him. I just…” Just told him that he’s wasted the best years of my life chasing him around the world.

“… Said that if he couldn’t be there when I needed him or spent more than two seconds a year with me then I couldn’t do it anymore. And that’s it.” Well, not exactly.

“Sounds like a dumping to me and rightfully so. Look, I love Danny but he’s hard to be friends with, let alone pretending to be in domestic bliss with…”

Yes, but you respected Daniel too much to admit that. Hannah was his friend too, all of them were. You were kids all grown up, now adults wading their way through the treacherous seas of the real world, pretending like they had it all figured out. Ungracefully and riddled with anxiety but finally immune to bullshit and aware of what to expect out of an adult relationship.

The standards were higher now than when you were young and in love. Daniel was your childhood best friend, after all. Or more accurately, the boy you met on the first day of high school, all crooked teeth and bundles of frizzy brown curls. You were acne-ridden and shy, the weirdo girl, they called you until you became friends with Danny. He knew everyone and was loved by everyone – that was the one trait that had followed him through life.

He was the class clown and a cute distraction from the torture of high school but you weren’t the only one who thought so. Lunchtime quickly became your favourite part of every day because you got to sit beside him and eat your Vegemite sandwich, knowing all the other girls in your year seethed seeing you with him. 'That weird mole and Riccardo being friends doesn’t make sense' they’d whisper thinking you couldn’t hear them. But you could and they were right about one thing – you were only friends.

The slightest scent of a spring breeze reminded you of the hours you spent sat under the shady gum trees, watching him playing footy with the other boys while you fiddled with your walk-man and scratched the discs beyond repair as you changed them out, battling with the Sony aux chord that was hanging on for dear life by a slither of duct tape. You were fifteen when Daniel handed you a burnt CD with a hand-drawn skull in the shape of a heart and the letters AOF written in bold black sharpie, smudged from his impatience.

“What’s this?” You asked with squinted eyes, looking up at him and the blistering sun.

“The best fucking album you’ll ever hear.”

He told you years later that he was so proud of himself, thrilled that he was showing you new music. His competitive streak wasn’t exclusive to the karting track – no, it snuck its way into everything he did, specifically when it came to album recommendations and especially with you.

“It’s called Watch Out by Alexisonfire… you know, that punk band I said you would love. Give it a try. I promise it’s better than that fuckin’ Offspring album you won’t stop listenin’ to.”

“Well even if I do like it, I wont tell you now dickhead.”

But he was right. So infuriatingly right. You loved it, maybe because you loved him. He was your best friend, your closest confidante, your twin flame – all cheesy grin and beautiful brown eyes. Lips so full that whenever he spoke, you couldn’t look away. Dangerously entranced by your best friend. A label that haunted you every time it slipped from his tongue and one you desperately wanted to rip off like a band-aid.

You thought those feelings would be the kind of ones you'd painfully bury and take to your grave, heartbreakingly unrequited – until you found a hand-written note crumpled up at the bottom of the ripped CD sleeve. The blotchy blue pen and creases in the lined paper made it hard for you to read his distinctive, yet messy boyish cursive.

song 4 – side walk when she walks (made me think of you)

The sound of frantic clicking bounced off your lilac coloured walls as you skipped to track four; a spinning screech filled the anticipated silence before the sound of a melodic guitar filtered through the muffled headset.

Dressed to kill, you look so right I am drunk with lust tonight Your wounds are opening wide And they might be just my size

Warmth rushed to your chest, your neck and up to your cheeks when you realised what it all meant. And it wasn’t the last time Daniel made your body feel like it was on fire, sitting on his messy bedroom floor and kissing until you couldn’t breathe, the soft sounds of your new favourite band playing on his stereo – heart beating so fast you could’ve died, happily in his arms.

But you weren’t horny teenagers anymore and that memory was blurrier now than it had ever been. It had been muddied with all the sad ones, the fights and the tears – the irreversible emotional damage that you had done to each other. You weren’t a saint, god knows and you took full responsibility for your part and so did Daniel. But that was where it ended – in a seemingly amicable split.

No love lost, only misplaced for a while.

It felt like all eyes were watching you as you walked into the small club, ears already tingling with the reverberation bouncing off the blackened walls – if only they could talk. Musky bodies and the hint of cigarettes filled the air while your combat boots stuck to the floor with every step you took into the lion’s den, making your path to closure hard fought. Maybe it was a sign to turn back; anything could’ve convinced you to swing by the exit on your left until you saw him.

He was dressed head to toe in black with a cap securely pulled over his eyes, hiding away from the curious ones. In any other crowd it would’ve been a piss-poor disguise, so obviously him but he blended in with the dark walls and the growing crowd, all wearing the unofficial uniform of an elder emo – baggy sweater, ripped skinny jeans and torn up Vans. And you were no different.

"You made it!!", a friend greeted, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug while you took in the circling faces. There were a few you never thought you would see again, people who were only your friend by proxy and ones he’d picked up along the way. And it was clear by the way everyone greeted you that he hadn’t dragged your name through the mud, maybe he kept the details of the break up quiet like you.

But the reality for Daniel was that he was too broken to even process what had happened. He came home to an empty apartment after a double-header with no way to contact you, to make things right. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the couple of months you’d been apart was enough either. And he was right. The sharp pain in his chest and the way his hands shook when he saw you confirmed it. He was fucked.

“Fuck,” Daniel groaned and turned to his mate, “What am I doing here, man…” 

All he could do was let out a soft laugh and pat his friend on the shoulder, “You’re an idiot.”

Daniel readjusted his cap and let out a strangled, “I know.”

You promised your friend that you’d be fine, like water off a ducks back. All the side glances and murmurs meant nothing to you anymore, the insecurity you had now was nothing compared to when you were actually dating Daniel. Consumed in his bubble, unable to escape the crushing scrutiny. Another wag bites the dust, they said, gone with no explanation other than your obvious absence in the paddock.

It didn’t matter anymore; nothing could hurt more than losing him.

But you still felt it, bubbling away in the pit of your stomach. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night, especially when you thought it would last forever. Nostalgia won the battle against the wound in your chest for a moment, still festering without treatment – knowing the only person who could heal it was miles away emotionally but was now in your line of vision. Seeing him in the flesh hurt more than you’d anticipated, more than you could’ve ever imagined. You still loved him, after everything.

The bubbles of excitement quickly dissipated and twisted into knots when you thought about what you had lost – a wave of anxiety washed over, churning away at any ounce of courage you’d mustered to even turn up to this stupid fucking show. You were cursing yourself, cursing your friend who had convinced you that he probably wouldn’t even turn up and that the odds were in your favour. She was so, so wrong.

“Ignore him and come dance.”

She was in damage control, dragging you away from the small gathering of friends and Daniel, who couldn’t tear his eyes away. His warm stare burned holes through your leather jacket as he watched you walk off into the crowd – and away from him again. It was becoming a habit of yours that he loathed. The house lights felt like a spotlight on your bruised ego but you pushed through the warm bodies, putting as much distance as you could between you and your past. The support band sounded great, mostly because it drowned out the soul-crushing thoughts swirling in your mind and brought you some much needed reprieve from your pity party.

You didn’t feel like yourself at all – you were the shell of the woman you used to be and you certainly weren’t the woman you wanted to show up as either. Strong, independent, single and thriving – you were none of those things, entirely the opposite in every way, so you had to dig deep and fake it. And you were a great actor but not tonight.

Not when you felt a gentle poke to your bicep. The lights rotating and strobing above made it impossible to see who was standing beside you, hand offering an icy bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime. It nearly slipped from your shaky fingers when you grasped it, whispering a soft thank you as the house lights went down and the swell of the surging crowd rumbled under foot.

“I wanted to have a chat but…” Daniel pointed to the stage, yelling over the drummer that had taken his rightful place behind his kit.

“Maybe later?” And you nodded yes, sending him a reassuring smile as the band began to play.

You could be diplomatic and hear him out – you owed yourself that at least and deserved closure from all the unanswered questions.

Daniel kept his distance, knowing he was in the wrong and that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life. And it wasn’t long until his heart stalled in his chest when he heard that painfully recognisable guitar riff filter through the thick air, the one he couldn’t listen to without thinking of you and he could see the way your eyes glazed with tears when you heard it; the opening chords to the song he had dedicated to you all those years ago on that stupid burnt cd.

Maybe you missed him too.

“This ones called side walk when she walks.”

You reached down, without even looking and grasped his hand that was hanging loosely between your stiff bodies. Daniel interlocked his shaking fingers with yours and squeezed them as your head dropped to his shoulder, resting there while you both swayed to the music. You felt safe for the first time in months, comforted by his presence.

Of course you missed him. He was your person.

And this was your band; the band you shared together for over half your lives, their songs played while you fell in love with one another. They were the band you lost your virginity to, humming softly in the background and wishing that feeling would last forever. You remembered blasting ‘to a friend’ in the car on the way to your graduation and Daniel nearly getting pulled over by the cops, laughing until your sides hurt. And they were the band you would always save for your road trips along the coast, both there in Los Angeles and back home.

These were the songs that soundtracked your life with Daniel.

They were your band – and they’d brought you back together.

a//n – this was wildly self indulgent so if you hated it, let me know lol but also lmk if you liked it because i loved writing it x masterlist | askbox

[lolita-lollipop]

Could I request a fantasy Au! with barbarian bakugou & dragon kirishima with a village girl darling. After one of their village friends dares them to go into the cave where they live, and so happens to wake dragon kirishima & trying to flee away from him but ends up getting injured.

YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER X DRGAON KIRISHIMA

HAPPY UPDATE DAY MY LOVELY LITTLE READERS!

“Cmon y/n… it’ll be fun I promise. Just in and out, and if you can do it we’ll all do your chores for the rest of the month” the older blonde haired boy pleaded, feigning friendship with you. Kaminari and his goons were quite known around the village as the rich assholes who knew they could do anything they wanted. You just happened to be the only one younger than them in this stupid village, so naturally you were a target.

They had been… teasing you recently. About your unease of the cave only a few miles out from town. You lived in a heavily forested area, with trees stretching for miles, and there were many… rumors. Or myths. Or even fairy tails if that’s what you wanted to call it. Of fairy’s who pranced about during the night feeding on lost souls, of half human half horse being who would stomp you into oblivion, of mermaids who lure you into the waters and never let you leave. Those stories you could handle. But there was always one… the tale of the two dragons, it was quite common in your town that the parents would tell the story to their young children in order to keep them from going into the woods alone.

It said that two dragons live in that cave, searching for lost children, and when they find those children, they eat them.

Yes, not the most complex story, however there was just something about that cave, all the older kids regularly visited it, vandalizing tne stone caverns. It was technically against the kings rule to do such a thing, but nobody was brave enough to go there and check. You never did, not once did you go when kaminari invited you, he had such a knack for finding ways to make you uncomfortable.

When you kept denying his invitations, he finally caught on. You. We’re. Scared. And boy did it get a rise out of him, it was like he had never heard anything funnier.

“Y-you’re scared of a cave because of that stupid horror story your parents told you when you were little? Jesus give me a break” he would say between cackles. Then, he would go silent, and then things got real bad.

All of a sudden it was like Every waking hour of his was like it was his goal in life to get you into that cave, he would knock on your door at 5 am to ask you, then pester you all day, only to wake you up at 12 at night to ask you again. And kept you awake until you gave him a maybe.it made you want to gouge your eyes out at how well he was getting under your skin, you weren’t sleeping so you didn’t have the energy to go do all the tasks you had in the farm, meaning you didn’t get paid as much as usual, meaning you couldn’t eat everyday.

It had been weeks since he started this, and now it was beginning to break you down, you were stuck thin and tired all the time. Meanwhile he stayed plump and healthy, having nothing better to do than to bully a poor girl must be a luxury of being rich. And so, reluctantly, after weeks of pure torture. You said yes.

“Fine. I’ll go into your stupid cave, but only for a minute. I’m not staying a while.” You mumbled out, tears starting to form at the edges of your eyes. You didn’t want to say yes, but you were just so tired.

“Okay! Let’s go.” He spoke chirpily. Skipping off into the woods with your Raggy sleeve in his hand. As you got closer and closer it was like all of the trees were waning away from you, screaming at you to get out and run far away, to never come back.

“N-now? But I have to work-“ you sputtered out, struggling to keep in line with the tall boy, your forehead was glistening in the sun with sweat now, your eyes were wide, your hands wee clammy, it was just oh so obvious that you were uneased.

“Work can wait, it’s not like you’re accomplishing anything anyway. Only for a minute. We’re almost there!” He continued cheering happily, you hated him, you hated him for exploiting you like this, you hated that he was forcing you into a place you would rather die than go into. You hated this.

But you could do very little to fight back against the older boy, now that you said yes you highly doubted he would let you turn back on your decision. So you kept your mouth shut, and tried to press the bile stuck in your throat down, along with your anxiety. It didn’t take very long to arrive at the cavern, it was just an obsidian blue opening in one of the taller hills of the forest, sorrounded by trees. There were little glistening crystals jabbing out front he opening. You knew they hadn’t been mined because everybody was far too fearful to go near the place. It was a warning in itself.

Denki shoved you forward with a harsh push to your back, you winced and looked back at him, trying to plead with your eyes that you were scared, that you didn’t want to do this. To no avail of course, as he just sent one of those condescending smiles of his, and gave you another shove.

“It’ll be so quick, I’ll count sixty seconds and then call for you. Just in and out y/n. Don’t you dare come out early” he hissed at you, and shoved you for the third time today. And so you went tumbling into the cave without anything, no flashlight, thin clothing( which did nothing against the cool breeze wafting around the cave), no weapon. No food. If you weren’t scared up there staring into the cave, staring into the belly of the beast, you definitely were now.

You counted the seconds, and wandered further, searching for a wall to press yourself against in order to feel safe. But found nothing, by the time you’d come to a slow you’d only reached thirty seconds, and also realized you had gotton lost in the dark. It was pitch black here, you couldn’t even see your hands in front of you, let alone the sorroundings, before it was too late you stopped paying attention to which direction your steps were in, and now you didn’t know where you were.

37

38

39

40

Now you were panicking, you couldn’t feel anything, or see anything around you, and you sure as hell didn’t know wether you were going further in or out of the cave. Your heart started racing, and now those tears that had threatened to spill earlier were beginning to slip out of those e/c eyes of yours onto your face. Panic seeped into your system, and you realized.

Denki would just leave you here if you didn’t come out when he yelled for you. He wouldn’t care if you were ok, he wouldn’t give a damn. He would leave you here alone in the dark.

55

56

57

58

59

All of a sudden you felt something behind you, perhaps you’d walked far enough to find some kind of wall to quite you out of here, or at least to provide you some comfort. But also, this felt wrong, like it wasn’t something that belonged to the cave…

60.

And like that, you felt a shove in your back that pushed you forward, your foot caught in a jagged rock in the ground so you toppled. But instead of meeting a harsh rocky ground, instead of breaking half of the bones in your body, you began to plummet straight down. You didn’t know what could’ve been worse.

The screams that left your mouth were quiet and breathleSs, too clouded by sheer terror to be very loud. Your hands found your head and your clutched your ears, trying not to panic too hard. It was all to fast, and then you hit the ground, and everything was so slow.

You screamed out in agony as you fell almost 90 feet onto a sharp crystal-like stone, which pierced through your leg. The sobs that left you were ugly and snotty, but you had never felt pain like this before. You were gonna die at the bottom of this cave, and no one was going to know you were even here.

“KAMINARI PLEASE. PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME HERE IM HURT. ILL DIE” you screamed out, but no one answered. You just sat there sobbing for over five minutes, too hyper fixated on the pain to care about anything else. Then you heard the voices coming from above, but your mind was beginning to go blurry, you couldn’t see how much blood you had already lost, but you felt empty now so it had to be a lot. You couldn’t make out most of the conversation.

“P-please sir- I did what you asked, I led her here and put her in your nest- please let me go” you were able to recognize the pleading voice as kaminaris, he seemed… scared? Of who? There was somebody else he was talking to. Nest?

“What I asked was for you to give her to me, now she is hurt because you weren’t fucking careful. Not only were you over three weeks late on getting her here, you also caused her pain. Is that what I fuckung asked you to do, boy?” A man’s voice spoke in, it was so tough that it sounded like the man had been eating sandpaper his entire life, but it was also very crisp, very harsh. He was angry. VeryObviously.

Your consciousness began to loop in and out, but after that, all you could hear were screams, and the occasional pleading. You heard a crunch once. This only fed into your fear, and now you found yourself frantically trying to un-impale yourself from the crystal, but it just wasn’t budging. Then, all the noise stopped, which was alarming in its own. Then, you felt a sliver of some kind of tail slide past your leg, then again on the back of your neck, and then. To your utmost terror, something- or someone swooped you off of your feet, and begin to hold you above the ground.

Then you fainted

———

You woke up in the same cave, with a piercing headache, your body felt like ice and burning fire at the same time. It was agonizing. The cave was the same, but now there was some form of light shining about, which showcased how this place looked less alike a cave and more like a den. There was faint bickering in the background, but you couldn’t turn to look at whoever two men were talking, your body was frozen in its spot.

Around along the cave walls there were furs of animals hanging off of ropes tied to what you thought was a ceiling , a few blankets that looked too new to be used by the inhabitants of this cave, along with a few pillows. And the jewels, there were jewels everywhere, billions of dollars worth of diamonds and rubys and sad fires. While the cave was beautiful, it was also terrifying, there was no ladder out, and there were sharp weapons everywhere. They weren’t the spears and swords of your people either, these were crafted out of wood, but looked sharper than a diamond.

Then you became aware of the same voice from earlier, softer now, less angry, talking to somebody else.

“He is gone now, no need to fuss darling. She will wake soon, and we will nurse the little one back to health. Poor girl. Already running a fever” you felt a little bit of heat over your body for a split second, and something was making a blowing noise, but then it stopped suddenly, and the sound of a slap rang out.

“We have to be gentle remember? Humans are such fragile creatures, especially children, they might just snap if you push them even a little too hard. Our little one will be safe with us. “ with those words you could move your hands, and then you could scrunch your nose, and then your mouth. They must’ve drugged you to make you soft because most of your body was numb. You began trying to see if you could move at all, but the fluffy blankets under you made it hard to sit up.

Almost immediately a man with blond spiky hair was looming over you, he moved so fast you hadn’t seen him, he tucked his arms under you and lifted you up with such ease that it didn’t seem human. In fact, he didn’t seem human at all, his eyes golden and seemingly glowing, his body too strong. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but there were leather straps strapped around his chest, along with some fur pants with jangly beads hanging down front he belt. You hadn’t realized you were screaming until he began to hush you.

“It’s okay. It’s alright, your body will feel like this for a short while, I had to give you a little something to make you calm down or you might’ve killed yourself. I did it to help you alright?”it was so hard for you to get out an answer to that without pain, so you just closed your eyes and rested… only to open them again and see the stranger staring at your face. He knew you were awake clearly. But it was almost like he didn’t know what to do with you.

Hot breath behind you found it’s way into your senses again, which naturally alarmed you. You had though it was just you and this.. man? Creature? In here. So you tried to get to see whatever it was. And when you did, you began sobbing once more, and shrill screaming was heard throughout the den.

A thing. No, a dragon was just standing there staring at you, probably thinking about how it wanted to eat you, it’s bright red skin and glowing yellow eyes pierced into your soul as you stared and stared and stared. And the more you did, the more terrifying it got.

“No no no no no- kiri- go hide for now you are scaring her. it’s alright baby, it’s alright. He won’t hurt you, i swear.” Cooed the man as he covered your eyes and pressed you into his bare chest. His warmth was such a contrast to the stark cold in this cave, you could tell something was unusual about him, like this was demonstrating some sort of special behavior. This man just seemed so harsh with kaminari , but his voice turned soft with you, completely different from when he was with denki .

Of course, this still didn’t help you calm down, in fact it just made you more fearful. It made you realize the weight of the situation, kaminari was likely dead and he’s the only one who knew you were here, and you were with one inhuman man, and either a dragon or one really terrifying lizard.

The tears ran freely from your eyes as you stared ag this man, he just hushed you and pulled you closer, tucking your head into the knook of his shoulder and slightly bouncing you. His grip was just so strong, and you were too weak form the blood loss, the starvation, and whatever drug he had given you to try and fight back right now.

The barbarian royalty hadn’t expected you to come today, he’s only seen you from afar before when you were slightly smaller, running through the forests, you had sensed him staring at you, and ran the other way.

You were just so small. So tiny. Many of the humans around avoided the cave, and the town nearby wasn’t exactly known for baring many children, he hadn’t seen one as young as you in over 15 years. And god did it awaken something in him, and something in his dragon too.

They used to care for children when they were younger, children who showed clear signs of mistreatment, children who got too curious and wandered into their nest. But then the village caught on to why so many young ones began to go missing. And they tried to kill the “beasts” in this cave. Of course they failed, and of course they all died. The tale that pursued was nothing but a childrens fairytale to frighten the little ones from wandering. And the two inhabitants were forgotten.

And this town, this town has become cursed, after you, the young ones stopped coming, no children could be had, so there were no children to care for. Which is why you were so special. Oh gods you smelled so fresh, so pure, and he could tell that boy that was nothing but a pile of blood and bones had been doing something to you, you smelled of sadness, of exhaustion.

He would nurse you back into too shape though.

He would take care of you, along with his partner.

He would make you a big soft nest where you could go when you got overwhelmed, when you got scared.

He would care for you

Oh god how happy will his tribe be when they found out he had found his child

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Hello.

My very sparse updating schedule is because I’m lazy and lack the energy to write :P

I have a good moonknight work on the way though!

Thank you so much for all the concern about my well-being! Im not dead and I am (almost) fully mentally stable:)

And if anybody wants some kind of mafia au fic please request now!

I love y’all! Bye bye!