#anon prompt

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Press One for Love, Two for Regret

Chapter 1

Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in the last chapter)

Notes: Prompt suggested by a lovely anon ask and that I absolutely ran away with 💞. I hope you enjoy🌻!!

(Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4/End)

“And another thing-!” you yell through the phone mic.

Viktor does not want to know the other thing.

For the first time in his life, he really wishes you would stop talking right now.

After months of a tumultuous relationship with a guy Viktor didn't believe was worthy of licking the sole of your boots, you had finally chosen to break it off tonight. Part of him (a large part of him if he's being honest with himself) is absolutely delighted at the news. Not only do you deserve so much better than the kind of scumbag who cheats on their partner, he can't help but think, selfishly, that there's a small chance for him to make his way into your heart. A chance to confess how he's felt for years now, how he's felt since the first time you smiled at him, and for you to see him in a new light. Not as a friend, but as a man, deeply, stupidly in love with you.

It's currently very hard to bask in the joy of all that potential because you've been talking over the phone for over two hours about every single thing your now ex-boyfriend had ever done to you.

“-and it's like, I should have known, you should never trust a guy who refuses go down a woman-“

Or hadn't done, in that case.

“Sweetheart, I don't want to say I told you so,” Mel speaks up at the other end of the line, voice firm but comforting, “but I did tell you so.”

“She did tell you,” Jayce pipes up, elbowing him in the arm. Viktor winces quietly and shoots his beaming friend a deadly glare. “Right Viktor?”

He lets out a non-committal mumble.

You've already moved on though, rambling about something else your Romeo had done. It's not like he was going to add anything helpful, anyway.

As soon as you had called him earlier that night, Viktor could tell something was wrong. The slight tremor in your voice, the lightest slurring of your words; you had been crying. He can read you like an open book, and you always come to him for advice whenever you need someone's help. No one else. That trust is something that means the world to him.

A second after he had asked what was wrong, you broke into tears and sobbed your way through a half-inaudible story about someone cheating and a breakup over text. And Viktor, like a coward, had panicked at the idea of discussing your romantic life with his very bothersome feelings getting in the way.

So he went to see his roommate for help, breaking the intimate bond of confidence you usually share together in the hopes of finding someone better qualified at handling the situation.

Which turned out to be an even bigger mistake.

Jayce isn't bad at discussing emotions per se; in fact, he's leagues above Viktor in that department. Where he tends to bottle up his thoughts and stew in them for hours on his own, Jayce will always be up for a talk, no matter the time or topic, that shining smile on his lips.

However, despite this, Jayce is a very poor listener.

His leg has been bouncing up and down for the last hour, like a puppy that needs to go pee outside. He's barely listening, only commenting every now and then, in favour of grinning at him and whispering embarrassing words of what he thinks is encouragement.

“Tell her you'll be there for her!”

“C'mon, say you'll go over to see her!”

“Vik, this is your moment!”

And then, there's Mel.

Because somewhere in the middle of this living nightmare, he thought perhaps a feminine, calm and composed presence like Mel would help you relax. Mel is the perfect listener, always striking that perfect balance between lending an ear and giving solid guidance. Viktor often finds himself wishing he could learn from how well she seems to understand everyone around her.

And yet her addition to the phone call seemingly just made everything worse.

You were definitely already a few drinks in by the time you called him, and now with her there as empathic support, you've lost absolutely all sense of self-restraint.

“And he was so bad with his tongue, did I say that before, Mel? He had no idea what to do with it, just shoving it in my mouth like a worm-”

Viktor is going insane. Hell is really just a never-ending phone call, with the girl you like telling you about sex with her ex.

“Yeah, honey, you did,” Mel sighs, even her otherworldly patience starting to wear thin. He can hear the fatigue in her voice; its close to one AM on a week day. “Maybe you should go to bed for the night, and rest up a little?”

Her extremely wise suggestion falls on deaf ears once again. He's not sure anything could stop your monologue now.

He's usually always so enamoured when you talk about anything. You're always so passionate, full of fire, ready to challenge the status quo and refusing to let anyone's opinion get in your way. It's captivating.

Now, he's mentally arguing the ethics of just pressing the ‘end call’ button to end his suffering.

“I just want someone who'll love me you know?” you drunkenly whine. “Someone who's gonna want to listen to me rant about stupid things. Who's gonna kiss me like it means something. Someone who's actually going to eat me out,” you spit out, clearly still bitter on the topic, “and who's gonna think of me as the only one for them.”

There's a pause, the first one in what feels like hours. You breathe slowly into the mic, only interrupted by a small hiccup. The next words come out quieter, defeated.

“And I don't know anybody who would ever be that person for me.”

Someone speaks up right after that.

“I would.”

And for a second, Viktor really wonders who said that.

Then it registers that that was his voice.

And then the math all adds up in his head, and he realizes it was him.

There's an odd, deafening silence in the room. It's like the pause button on a video has been pressed. For a second, he thinks maybe he's just hallucinated the whole thing.

But then, Jayce smiles at him with one of those handsome, enormous grins of his, and the dread of knowing this is very real sinks in.

“…Sorry, Viktor, what did you say?” you ask, voice no longer shaky.

There are three possible routes to take from here.

He could A., lie and hope you think you misheard him. Not a very likely scenario, because Viktor heard himself say the two cursed words crystal clear. You would call him out instantly.

B., he could hang up, and never talk to you again. Drastic, but a necessary evil. At least he would avoid the embarrassment of ever having to talk to you again. Knowing you, you wouldn't let him off so easily, though.

C., he could be honest. He could tell you he wants to hear you talk about anything and everything, except perhaps your shitty exes. He could tell you he's looked your way for a very, very long time, and that he'd never found the right moment, the right words, to tell you. He could tell you he loves you.

Unfortunately, before he has time to consider his choices and weigh the various pros and cons, Jayce starts answering for him with triumphant laughter:

“Oh my god, Viktor finally said he would-”

“-Would call you back later, yes, goodnight!” he quickly yelps, almost throwing the phone down as he presses the button to end the call. The black screen stares back at him tauntingly.

Meanwhile, Jayce looks at him like he's grown a second head:

“Why did you hang up?!” he protests, picking up the phone and wagging it over Viktor's nose, “This is it! You did it! It's your moment!”

Viktor snatches the phone back, shoving it into his back pocket. Out of sight, out of mind.

“My moment is absolutely not going to happen on the phone, with two other people listening in, while she's ranting about an ex-lover!” he hisses out.

Jayce's expression softens, like he's just now realizing these might not be ideal circumstances. The smartest man Viktor has ever known is somehow also the most dense.

“Maybe she didn't hear,” he adds in a tone that unsuccesfuly tries to be comforting”, “Maybe she heard ‘high wood’, like a… forest of pines?”

Before Viktor can ask how, exactly, a forest of pines of all things would have fit into their conversation, something against his hip vibrates in an awfully familiar pattern.

It's his phone.

“…or maybe not,” Jayce concludes.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Kaer Morhen keeps a lot of magic objects.

One of them is a mirror that shows you the most beautiful person in the world; however, it does so based on your subjective opinion. Beauty is inherently subjective, so the spell couldn’t work in an objective manner.

The young witchers used to dare each other to stand in front of the mirror. A risky thing to do if the person who showed up in the mirror was another trainee. Or—gods forbid—an instructor.

Nowadays, it just gathers dust in the crumbling Keep.

OoOoOoOOoOooOohoh, I love artifacts and relics and magical mishaps!!!! I can already imagine the many shenanigans the kaer morons and the bard would get into with this "Geralt, how come I only see you in this old mirror?" "Wait- WHICH OLD MIRROR????"

[goddessofroyalty]

I can't even pretend, but I really wanna see the kids walk-in on Silco and Vander. Can I prompt that please?

Pairing: Vander/Silco

Further context to this 2 year old prompt is that it was after some back and forth about the kids accidently walking into Vanco having sex.  

General warning of this involves underage children walking in on their parents having sex but it is treated very much as that (nobody is having a fun time but also the trauma of it is very fleeting).  

-------------------

“Fuck Vander – that's it. Don’t you dare fucking stop!” 

Vander has no plans of stopping. Not with Silco writhing under him like he is. His husband’s legs locked around to prevent him from doing much more than thrusting deep into him. Nails digging into his shoulders in demand as he kisses and bites along the full length of Silco’s neck. A rare moment where they can forget about their responsibilities and just enjoy a good fuck.  

“Janna Sil – what you do to me,” Vander groans as he thrusts. Grabbing hold of Silco’s thighs and hips to get a bit more leverage as Silco clenches gith around him. “That’s it love – so good for me.”  

“Harder- Vander I need-”  

“I know.” Vander digs his knees into the bed for any more leverage he can get to thrust that bit harder. Silco’s grip tightening with each one.  

They both freeze when the door creaks open. Powder’s small frame filling the doorway.  

“Forgot bunny,” she says as she shuffles into the room.  

Silco meets Vander’s eyes with an equal level of panic in them. Oh, sure, the night had been cool enough and them caught up enough in their haste when they had realized they had the time and energy for something more than a quick handjob before sleep that the quilt was still over them. But there wasn’t really any way they can move without risking it sliding off.  

Vander goes to pull out carefully only for Silco’s legs to tighten around him and a sharp expression pointed his way.  

Powder doesn’t seem to notice or care that her parents are currently on top of each other. Walking around the bed to the stuffed toy on the bedside time. With it in hand she heads back out to leave.  

“Oh!” she says, pausing at the door to look at them – and oh Janna is this the night they’re gonna’ be explaining sex to their youngest. “Night!”  

“G’night Powder,” Vander manages.  

“Goodnight,” Silco adds.  

Powder gives a small nod at it before slipping out of the room, shutting the door behind her.  

Vander collapses once she’s gone. Sliding out of Silco and rolling to the side out of a well-trained habit after years of listening to how he’s crushing his mate if he doesn’t.  

“Shit.” That was definitively one way to kill the mood.  

He glances over at Silco who looks equally shocked where he stares up at the ceiling. Who runs his hand through his hair and takes a purposeful breath. Vander reaching over to grab hold of his leg in sympathy.  

Silco pushes it off and surges from the bed. Grabbing one of Vander’s shirts to put on first and then a pair of boxers despite the shirt covering past his knees.  

“I’m going to the bathroom. I trust you can finish yourself off,” he says as if it’s Vander’s fault Powder forgot her stuffed toy in the room and walked in on them. Vander knows there’s no point arguing it though.  

“Yeah, ‘course.” Not like he’s all that hard anymore anyway.  

------------- 

Silco really shouldn’t give in this easily it will only encourage the behavior.  

But when he glanced at the clock after he finished reviewing the latest report it had been five minutes before the time Vander had told him he would be in the storeroom to review the stock levels. And it is not like Silco can leave him unsupervised for such a task.  

Anyway, the report had been a particularly dry read and what better way for him to forget that his life now seemed to be a never-ending series of paperwork to read or complete than to be pinned between a storeroom’s walls and his husband’s strong sturdy frame. Pants and boxers hanging off one leg as broad calloused-covered fingers bury deep inside him. A taste of what is to come.  

“Fuck I needed this,” Vander grunts against his neck as the fingers crook in just the way that makes Silco’s toes curl. “All night been thinking about it.”  

“Then stop thinking and start doing!” He’s meant to be the man of action of the two of them.  

“Impatient tonight,” Vander jokes as he shoves his pants down with plenty impatience of his own. And Silco would point it out if he wasn’t preoccupied with enjoying the feeling of his husband pushing into him. The satisfying familiar stretch.  

Whatever sounds they made in the moment are drowned out by the horrified yell of a child.  

“My eyes!” Mylo yells with enough distress in his tone that Silco feels compelled to look over at the doorway to the storeroom to make sure the boy hasn’t actually hurt himself.  

But no. The dramatic gagging sound as Mylo covered his eyes with one hand, the other blindly gripping along the way was all an act. He was actually fine.  

“I thought I told you to watch the bar,” Vander says pulling himself out of Silco and tucking himself back into his pants even as he leans his head into Silco’s shoulder. There no way they were going to continue after the teenager’s reaction.  

“I was but then we ran out of vodka so I came to get more only to find you two doing-” Mylo makes more dramatic gagging noises instead of finishing the sentence.  

Silco takes the opportunity to put his pants back on. 

“Seriously though – tell me there’s some bleach in there. I can pour it into my eyes to get that image off them,” Mylo says, his hand still covering his eyes as he sways around pretending to be dazed.  

“’fraid not,” Vander says, grabbing a bottle off the shelves and going over to knock his shoulder against the boy’s. “But I do have the vodka you came for, so it’s back to work for the both of us.”  

That gets Mylo to move his hand from his eyes.  

“What? I need time to recover from my shock first!”  

“And what better way than to keep yourself busy with customers,” Vander says, grabbing hold of Mylo to drag him out towards the bar despite the boy’s continued protests.  

Silco leans against the wall to regather himself before heading back to his office. Might as well get started on the next report on the pile.  

------------------------- 

Vander still isn’t sure what got Silco so excited to drag him into his office and pushing him into the chair of it but fuck he isn’t complaining. Not when it has Silco sliding up and down on his cock with smooth steady motions, bracing himself with a hand against the backrest of the chair and the other resting on his study table. Vander’s hand holding onto his hips more to keep himself grounded than doing anything to help.  

It’s a rare occurrence these days for the two of them to do something like this and Silco fucking stunning when he’s riding Vander’s dick. His normally slicked-back hair sticking to his forehead from his sweat and good eye closed in focus and pleasure, the other glossy and unfocused.  

Vander bucks his hips because he knows it’ll make Silco gasp.  

“Fuck you’re stunning Sil,” Vander tells him because he is.  

“Ah, Vander!” Silco moans. “Shit! I’m close!”  

“Yeah?” Vander gives another roll of his hips because honestly, he’s pretty damn close himself and seeing Silco cum from his cock alone gonna’ be more than enough to get him over too.  

The door to the office swings open moments before either of them go over the edge.  

“I just wanted to check something about those people we wanted me to- oh you’re busy.”  

Vander can see Claggor standing in the doorway from around Silco’s shoulder. Their son’s face bright red where clearly he’s frozen in place.  

Silco’s head hits Vander’s shoulder with a similar shade and Vander’s sure his ain’t far off it either.  

“Do you want me to leave and come back later?” Claggor asks. HIs eyes looking everywhere in the room apart from them.  

“Yes,” Silco hisses. His entire body tensing, including the bit still surrounding Vander’s cock.  

“I- okay. I’ll be in the bar. Or I might go to my room actually,” Claggor stutters in his shock. “I’m actually just gonna’ leave.”  

“Please do.” Silco doesn’t move as Claggor quickly backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.  

“Sil?” Vander asks when Silco remains in his lap unmoving. He’s gone a bit soft from it but buried inside Silco still it won’t be long until he’s hard again whether he’d want to be or not.  

Silco leans forward to press his head into Vander’s chest and screams in frustration.  

----------------------- 

It’s well past closing when Silco makes it back to the Last Drop but that doesn’t matter. The shipment had gone off smoothly, it’s lucrative buyer happy and already talking about the next round of business. More money in their pockets to raise Zaun into the status it deserves.  

“You look happy,” Vander says, drying up the last of the glasses from the night. Silco slips into the bar with him, wrapping his arms around his husband’s neck and backing him up until Vander’s back is against the bar.  

“Drink to celebrate?” Vander asks and Silco hums in agreement, letting his hand trace down Vander’s chest and rest against the front of his pants.  

“The one I have in mind is a little off the menu.”  

“See I happen to be close with the owner and I don’t see that being a problem,” Vander says as Silco flicks open the button and undoes the fly with well-practiced ease.  

“That’s good,” Silco says, with a kiss against Vander’s jaw. “I would hate to make the working situation hard for you.”  

He drops to his knees. Nuzzling against the hard-on straining against Vander’s boxers.  

“Shit- Sil-” Vander pants, his hands braced against the bar behind him as Silco frees his erection from its clothe confines. Letting his breathe warm the already heated skin before running his tongue along the underside and taking it in his mouth right down to the root.  

Silco nearly chokes at the bang of the bar door being slammed shut, followed by the sound of knocking and yelling of children from the other side of it.  

“Shit!” Vi yells, sounding more startled than scared. “I swear I didn’t start it!”  

“What? Didn’t start what?” Vander asks, recovering from his own shock at the intrusion. “And why were you out late?”  

Silco helpfully slides Vander’s cock back into his boxers and redoes his pants before standing up. Their night now not going to be one of celebration, but rather parenting.  

“I-” Vi starts, before noticing Silco. “Why were you under the bar?”  

A look at Vander then back to Silco and realization settles on her features. Her nose curling in her disgust.  

“Gross!”  

Silco rolls his eyes at her.  

“Answer your father’s question.”  

“I was out,” Vi says, suddenly sheepish, her head rolling back so she is looking up at the ceiling rather than them, “with someone.” 

“And I suppose the children currently banging on our door didn’t want you out with this someone?” Silco asks. The pieces coming together into a very specific picture.  

“They’re her brothers,” Vi says hurriedly but they both still heard it. “I wasn’t doing anything she didn’t want.”  

Ah, the joys of teenaged dating. To think this is only the start of what is in store for them over the next decade between the lot.  

“Go to bed Vi,” Vander says massaging the bridge of his nose. “I’ll get rid of our guests.”  

Vi nods at it before slinking off to her room leaving them alone in the bar apart from the aggressive knocking at the door.  

“Daughters,” is all Silco can offer when Vander looks at him for support.  

[kinardsevan]

prompt: buck has been so quiet about him and tommy that the rest of the 118 aren't sure if things are good between them or not. then tommy comes over for one of the dinners (bobby invited him- he's the only one that gets "the less being said, the better it's going") and the rest of the 118 see just how much tommy and buck love one another.

Chim and Hen are concerned. They’re so used to Buck constantly talking about every little thing in his life that the lack of discussion about anything related to home feels incorrect. 

“Cap, he’s barely mentioned actually going home in weeks now,” Hen comments as Bobby checks the state of their dinner. 

“I’m inclined to agree with Hen,” Chimney adds. “The last time I asked him how he was, he started talking to me about Jee.” 

Bobby raises an eyebrow at them. “So you’re concerned because, and let me make sure I have this correct: Buck, who is notorious for bringing his problems to us, isn’t mentioning any,” he states at Hen before looking over at Chimney. “And because when you started a conversation with him, he wanted to talk about his niece, your daughter?” 

“Well-..” “Cap-…” 

“Why don’t you guys go take a look over the balcony,” Bobby tells them, gesturing a ladle towards it. “I think I just heard someone pull up.” 

They both eye him suspiciously, almost as though they might think he’s gone crazy, but after a beat, Hen slides off her seat and walks over to the balcony. She watches Evan exit the rec room on the first floor as Chimney comes to stand beside her. The sound of Evan’s giggle bounces off the walls of the firehouse as he walks towards the bay doors, his arms already extending. He makes it up between the ladder and rescue trucks before Tommy meets him, quickly enveloping him in a tight hug, so tight that he pulls Evan an inch or so off the ground, which elicits more laughter. A moment later, Tommy settles him back down and they lean back far enough for Tommy’s lips to find Evan’s. 

“Well, that’s disgusting,” Hen says, turning back towards Bobby and lifting her coffee to sip. 

“Too domestic,” Chimney adds, shaking his head as though he’s trying to lose the image of his brother and close friend so in love with each other. 

Bobby chuckles, smirks at them. 

“You still concerned?” 

Hen glances back over her shoulder as they hear a bang on the first floor. Tommy has Evan backed up against the ladder truck, kissing even more heatedly. She clears her throat and then raises her voice, intent on being heard. 

“Forget I asked.” 

[madmanwonder]

Prompt

Jaune is happy that Willow is improving her life, but there is one problem. When he goes to Weiss to talk to her, Willow comes over wearing a Christmas outfit that she never would have worn before. But now that she has someone that she wants to impress, time to show off what she has.

Flirt

https://rule34.xxx/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=7188652

“Jaune.”

“Yes Weiss?”

“You have no idea how much I hate you so much right now.”

“I know. I can taste your hatred right now.”

“Is that anyway to speak to your mother lover Weiss~?”

Weiss left eye twitching madly as she looked at her mother draped over Jaune with a smile on her painted red lips. Her mother was dressed in a ludicrously skimpy Santa Claus outfit that showed off her cleavage and all of her long legs clad in white stockings and shining red high heels.

“This…is my hell now.”

[ghost-bxrd]

(okay so full disclosure i haven't read any dc stuff but ive been in the fandom for a while so i know the stuff pretty well, i have also slowly been coming up with prompts and i saw your prompts i thought i would send them to you in case they were decent, if they arent pls feel no pressure to respond :) )

so what if before the titans tower incident nightwing was visiting gotham and his grapple malfunctioned or snapped or smth and then all of a sudden he was just falling, cue the whole dead parent flashbacks, and then all of a sudden someone just caught him.

Red hood was patrolling crime alley when he saw nightwing get too close to his territory, so he followed at a distance too make sure he wasn't trying to pull some sort of trick, when he saw him fall. and fuck thats his big brother, so he runs, and saves him and how the hell is he going to explain this??

oh wow that angst is starting off GOOD!

Like, Dick’s split second of shock when the grapple catches and the line suddenly goes slack again, the swooping sensation of gravity pulling him towards the ground, and a short, hysterical moment to wonder if that’s what his parents felt when they died because— it’s not so bad. He expected there to be more… fear. Bust mostly he’s just sad because he knows Bruce and Tim and Alfred are going to be devastated.

And then there’s another body slamming into him mid air, and for a moment Dick thinks it’s got to be Bruce with the amount of muscle and body armor but he blinks and sees red (shit, shit, shit, Red Hood, this is bad)— but then the crime lord does something unexpected. He pushes off the side of a building in a startlingly familiar move and flips through the air. Something Dick does on the daily. Something Jason used to do with a stilted sort of grace. Something Tim is only just learning to get the hang of.

And suddenly Dick is livid.

Because Hood shouldn’t know how to do this. Nobody but him and Jason Tim should know how to do this. And the fact that Hood does… it can only mean Hood’s either been stalking them for much longer than he feels comfortable with, or——

Or somehow he must have learned from one of the three people ever to exist who know the technique.

Dick knows he didn’t teach Hood, and Tim would sooner break his own leg than help a crime lord…

But that only leaves Jason, and while it can’t be possible Dick can’t help the spark of traitorous hope he feels.

Meanwhile Jason, gesticulating with a gun: (shit fuck ok how do I salvage this ok I need to use this to my advantage somehow oh shit ok—) YOU ARE NOW MY HOSTAGE

Dick, who wasn’t planning on letting Hood leave before he gets some answers anyway: sure :)))

Jason: …what?

Dick: I said sure! Let’s go! You wanna cuff me?

Jason: … wtf?

[aesthetictarlos]

another bucktommy prompt – this one specifically because i looove how big and strong they both are: character a is having both hands full with bags (maybe from a shopping trip?) and character b says "let me hold that", referring to the bags. character a misunderstands, thinking character b wants to hold hands, so they promptly switch all bags to one hand and take hold of character b's hand. you decide who is who is this scenario!

Thank you for this prompt, I loved it! ❤️

Buck greets the young girl behind the counter and follows his boyfriend outside, putting his card back into the wallet. They're hosting a 118 hang out at Tommy's place - their place now, actually, which is why they're the hosts - and they've bought tons of food and beverage.

Tommy's hands are both full with bags and they've parked away from the grocery shop's entrance since the parking lot was packed, but as much as Buck's enjoying the view of his boyfriend's muscles bulging as he effortlessly carries the bags, he wants to help.

"Let me hold that," he says after he's pocketed his wallet and his hands are free.

Tommy glances at him and smoothly shifts the three bags he's carrying on his left hand to his right one, lacing his fingers with Buck, leaving him speechless because damn, his boyfriend is really a beast.

Buck stares in awe as Tommy keeps walking like he's not carrying five heavy bags on one hand, and suddenly his throat goes dry. "I– I meant let me hold some of the bags, you really are something else. Fuck, you're so strong."

Tommy giggles, ducking his head. "Oh, sorry for the misunderstanding, but I really wanted to hold your hand."

Buck swats his bicep, and right after they finish loading their groceries in the car, he pushes his boyfriend against the side door and kisses him stupid, his fingers digging in his ripped arms and squeezing.

(Yeah, he has a thing with Tommy's muscles, sue him.)

[steviestits]

In The Family Way - Part 4.2

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Argyle/Jonathan Rating: T Summary: The Munson family has never had the typical values that most modern Americans have as they find thrill in all that's mysterious and spooky. Steve Harrington, a black widow omega, hadn't known this when he mated with the family's eldest alpha, Eddie, and thought that he'd be another easy mark that he could kill to inherit the millions that Eddie owned. However, not only do all his murder attempts fail, but Eddie actually enjoys them! And to make matters worse, the alpha wants to try for a pup! Steve has to find a way to off Eddie for good, before he gets pregnant and maybe actually falls for the death-crazed alpha. (Addams Family Values au set in the Omegaverse after the events of the movie with Steve as Debbie and Eddie as Fester) Trigger Warning: Attempted Murder as a love language, Mpreg

(Link to previous part)

The Munsons moved surprisingly fast and were out of the house in under an hour, leaving Steve alone in the bedroom that he had used when he was employed here as a nanny. As unpleasant as Steve remembered it, the room was a dreary gray color with animal heads and rusty weapons decorating the walls. There were also cobwebs everywhere, purposely left because the Munsons loved creepy-crawly things. He supposed he could clean it, but the gnawing in his abdomen made him only want to lie on the old four-poster bed and sulk.

As an offer of hospitality, Eddie had said that the Munsons could stay in their home for the time being, so he supposed that he would have to be his revenge for forcing him to have his heat here in the decrepit Munson manor. Steve almost wished he could see the looks on their faces, having to be surrounded by pastels and actual taste. They were probably besides themselves. Maybe they’d die from shock or exposure, if only Steve could be so lucky.

“Sweetheart,” Steve heard Eddie from the hallway. The alpha was being overly proper and wouldn’t come in since the omega had yet to extend an invite to his den. “Come to the nesting room. You’ll be much more comfortable going through your heat there.”

“No way. I’m staying right here,” Steve answered stubbornly. “I don’t nest.”

“Stop being difficult, my pet. Everyone nests. Omegas. Betas. Even alphas.”

Steve snorted. Someone should’ve told that to his parents when they were alive. They believed that nesting was solely for omegas, and since they didn’t want him to be an omega then he wasn’t allowed to nest. Even after their death, he could still hear their disapproval and admonishment, driving into him that no one could love a broken person like him.

“Well, I don’t! I’ve never made a nest in my life, and I don’t plan to start now!”

There was a moment of silence before there was a soft knock on the door frame. Steve looked up from his sulking to see Eddie peeking in at him with an awestruck expression. He still found it hard to believe that the other was truly an alpha, because Eddie didn’t act like any of the other alphas that Steve had known. The other alphas had been rude and acted like they were owed something, so unlike Eddie that it was almost sweet.

“I could build a nest for you,” Eddie mumbled, face half-hidden by the door frame.

“What?”

“I could build a nest for you,” he repeated louder as blush filled the parts of Eddie’s cheeks that Steve could see. “A heat or rut is better in a nest. I could build one.”

Pursing his lips, Steve said, “But you’re an alpha.”

“I’ve built myself nests. And even if I hadn’t, you’re my deadly nightshade, my sweet oleander. I would do anything for you. You need only ask it.”

Heat burned against Steve’s face, and he blamed his upcoming biological nightmare instead of that he was touched by Eddie’s words. Steve honestly didn’t know why Eddie liked him so much when all Steve did was snap at him endlessly. Maybe he was simply a glutton for punishment verbally as well as physically. Besides, Steve was the first omega to show any interest in Eddie, so he probably would’ve behaved this way for anyone who caught his attention. Steve was nothing special to Eddie. He needed to remember that, so he wouldn’t get hurt again.

“Knock yourself out,” Steve huffed. “But don’t think I’ll use it if it’s not color coordinated. I’m an omega with very high standards, you know.”

“I know, my pet. I would hang myself from the rafters and feed myself to sharks before I ever gave you a subpar nest.”

A small smile threatened to find its way to Steve’s lips, “Like you wouldn’t enjoy hanging from the rafters or being fed to sharks.”

“Only if it was done by you, sweetheart. Any torture you place upon me is absolute bliss.”

“Whatever, just go make the nest and be quick about it!”

After a nod of affirmation, Eddie left to carry out his task. Steve stared at the door for a little while longer before he curled in n himself, gripping his stomach. He could only wonder what his parents would think if they saw him. If they’d berate him for being an omega who couldn’t make his own nest or if they would punish him for allowing himself to go into heat, for not taking the potion seriously.

Thoughts of his parents continued to spiral in Steve’s, making him wish that he could kill them again for all the insecurities they placed on him. He was so wrapped up in his feelings that he barely noticed Eddie’s knock at the door. It was only when Eddie knocked a second time that he was finally able to pull himself back into the present, away from his parents’ disappointment.

“You feeling okay, my pet?” Eddie asked when their eyes met. “You’re crying.”

Steve touched his cheeks and realized that Eddie was right. The stupid hormones were making his emotions become unbalanced. He cursed them silently under his breath while using his sleeves to wipe away any tears that had fallen. Once this was over, Steve was going to double his suppressants, make certain he never lost control of himself again.

“Done already?” Steve answered back, not acknowledging Eddie’s concern.

The alpha nodded then said proudly, “I think I out did myself.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, because I won’t settle for a shitty nest.”

“Of course! I would never allow my omega to have their heat in anything except the softest and most comfortable nest, just the way you like it.”

To be honest, Steve doubted that Eddie could make anything that Steve liked given how the alpha had his own ideas on what comfortable was, and the nest could be on a bed of nails for all Steve knew. Eddie was being persistent, however, and the instincts of the alpha were clearly telling him to take care of his omega, which meant that he wouldn’t leave Steve alone until that need was thoroughly squashed. All he had to do was see the next, reject it, and then keep rejecting it until his heat finally passed. Simple, at least that’s what he told himself.

Part 4.1 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 4.3

[tiffanytoms]

New Story: Teach Me

Rating: E

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Lily sneaks her boyfriend James away from a party to eagerly ask him for a really big favor. Will he teach her how to give him a hand job? (Obviously, he's more than willing to fulfill her noble request.)

Thank you to the anon who asked me if I knew of any stories like this and inspired me! Hope I did it justice 🫶

One shot on AO3

Snippet:

She could stare at him and his adorable freckles all night. But alas, she had a mission. “So you gonna let me or not?”

James chuckled for a few seconds before sighing, looking up at the ceiling as he blissfully muttered, “I can’t believe this is my life now.”

He was doing it again. James Potter was saying sentimental crap that was making Lily Evans feel like she could rule the world. “What?” Even her question sounded like it was smiling.

“Evans. Thee Lily Evans is practically on her hands and knees, begging to suck my cock—”

“Merlin—”

“Oh no, don’t be shy now!” James joked. “It’s the hottest—”

“Shut up.”

“— thing I’ve ever seen. Ever dreamt I’d see, even.”

“You’re the worst.”

James pulled Lily back into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her frame before he kissed her temple. “Nah, don’t say that.”

[therealmofamorus]

Prompt

OG Stud

Jaune thought that the sex with Kali was a one time thing, and tries his shot Blake for an actual relationship. How wrong he was, as Kali seduces her daughter's friend since this Christmas she wants him. The more sexual she acts towards him, the less chance he is getting at going out with Blake.

Seduce

https://rule34.xxx/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=7185191

https://rule34.xxx/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=7185196

Jaune wanted to built a relationship with Blake. Sure husband relationship with Kali was great and all, but he still wanted to be with Blake.

But…

“Merry Christmas Jaune~” The seductive purr of his MILF-y girlfriend dressed in a elegant but risqué outfit that shows off how buxom and curvy she was to his poor innocent eyes as she give him a kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick kiss on it

“Yeah….” Jaune replied with a blush and a bashful expression as he turned his head to avoid looking at his seductive girlfriend…and tried in vain to ignore the burning eyes of Blake Belladonna who was red in rage and green in envy at her whore of a mother flirting and dressing up like a total whore towards him.

[elliemarchetti]

My AU Headcanon: after surviving the attack on their house, James had constant nightmares about seeing Lily & Harry dying & Voldemort, Wormtail and Snape taunting for failing them, despite being the great James Potter. It hurt Lily to see her once happy and mischievous husband be in so much pain.

I'm alive! Risen from the ashes like Fawkes!

Lovely anon, thank you for your patience and for sending this prompt, which allowed me to write James from another perspective and analyze his marriage with Lily with a more mature eye.

As always feedback and other suggestions on how to continue this (or any other) story are welcome but I'm also open to having a chat, exchanging headcanons and making moodboards and playlists for your favorite characters/couples.

Words: 700

After years of uncertainty and terror, with heavy casualties on both sides and entire bloodlines wiped out, the war ended, and the Wizarding World celebrated with displays of fireworks and jubilation. He Who Must Not Be Named was dead, just a corpse made of skin and bones buried beside his father in a forgotten graveyard, his remaining followers were locked up in Azkaban, and peace reigned once again, an outcome Lily failed to truly believe in as she held little Harry to her chest on the darkest nights, in fear it could be their last moment together. They had been lucky to survive Pettigrew's betrayal, something he did not, and Lily was grateful for every quiet day she was allowed to live, but James hadn’t gotten over the tension and the constant fear as well as she did. When there was light outside, from breakfast until he put Harry to bed, everything seemed fine despite the purplish dark circles under his eyes, and at work he was his usual mischievous self, at least according to Sirius, but when he got under the covers, once he had given a kiss to his wife and they both turned off the lamps on their respective bedside tables, he became a mess, clinging to her body as if she was a lifeline. The nightmares hadn’t given him a full night’s sleep for months now, and if sometimes he didn’t feel like talking, if sometimes the only thing that soothed him was sinking into Lily, taking her in desperation, letting her gentle words of encouragement and muffled moan ground him, during others he was more inclined to dialogue.

“He killed you,” he had murmured one night, heavy tears sliding down his sunken cheeks. “You were dead, and he… Harry… I couldn’t do anything but watch.”

It was like this, between stammers and fragmented sentences, that Lily discovered what was plaguing her husband’s sleep, a sense of guilt he shouldn’t have felt, an anxiety he couldn’t leave behind.

“It’s not my fault, Snivellus, it’s not my fault!” he had shouted on another occasion, before sitting up in bed, his forehead drenched in sweat.

“Dad?” Harry had called from the small corridor dividing their rooms, rubbing his eyes with the small fist.

“Dad had a bad dream, love,” Lily had quickly explained, as he guided him back to bed. “Every now and then it happens to adults too.”

“Can you give him this, then?” her son had asked, with the innocence only children possess, handing her one of the stuffed animals he usually slept with. “It will protect him from monsters.”

“He will appreciate it very much,” she replied, taking the fuzzy Welsh Green, his favourite birthday gift from uncle Remus.

“Did I scare him a lot?” James asked, defeated and worried, as soon as she closed the door behind her.

“No, but he wants you to have this, to protect you from monsters,” she answered, passing him the stuffed animal. He stared at it for a while, as if seeing it for the first time, or glimpsing something in his black plastic eyes, and then he hugged it tightly, curling up his knees and bowing his head until his dishevelled hair almost touched his arms. Seeing him like this, it was evident how young he actually was, how the weight of the carefreeness the war took away from them weighted on his hunched shoulders.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, breaking the heavy silence engulfing the house. “I wish I was stronger, I wish I had been able to do more, but instead I had to hide like a rat, I had to wait for others to defend my family for me.”

“We’re all alive, and that’s enough,” was all Lily could say as she caressed his bare back, where the bones of his spine visibly protruded. When had he gotten so thin? When, among the pile of things he had to care about, had he stopped considering eating a priority? Just two more questions to add to the thousand she would have to find an answer, a solution, to alone, so as not to break the young man who that night slept hugging his son’s stuffed dragon.

[fantasticstoryteller]

I just had this funny headcanon where Damian Wayne is a guy who obssessed with games and can't leave his room for 5 minutes until Danny decide to drags him out of his room.

Danny: Damian! It's afternoon, come out! DAMIAN!

Damian: (grumbles) Fenton! How many times do I have to tell you not to just burst in here! Now be quiet, I'm close to advancing Fuuka-chan's path!

Danny: Fuuka what?

(Danny then glancing at the screen; a teal-haired, pale girl was offering the player a homemade lunch)

How is it? (the girl on screen asked)

Damian: (grins) HA! The obvious answer is that it's delicious!

(Damian scrolled over the appropriate response, and was rewarded with a new message:) The Fuuka Yamagishi social link has reached level 4!

Damian: Yes! I finally did it! Now it's time for Yuk-

Danny: (drags Damian out) Okay dude, I'm gonna taking you out. No game for you!

The game would. Not. Die. Danny had deleted it. He'd "accidentally" destroyed the console it was on. He'd tried to give it to Technus!

Technus who had taken one look at the code for the game and then fled as fast as his corny self could go to the Zone, which--yeah, that really should have been Danny's first clue. Or maybe the fact that it mysteriously reuploaded itself with all the data intact.

Still, he'd thought it was a prank. He'd thought it was something Steph did. Or maybe Cass. (So many people didn't realize how much of a chaos gremlin Cass was.) Or maybe it was something that Ellie had found and given to Damian the last time she came through.

He should have investigated it more. He really should have. And now, he stood cursing himself for not having done that.

Standing beside Damian, in a Gotham Academy girl's uniform, was a girl with short, teal colored hair. She brushed some hair out of her face with a pale hand and looked up at Danny through her lashes. "Hi," she said.

"This," said Damian proudly as he put an arm around the girl. The girl who giggled and cuddled into Damian's side. "Is Fuuka Yamagishi."

"Hey, Fuuka!" said Dick. Dick didn't realize anything was wrong. Of course not; when Damian had started playing a dating sim, Dick had given the boy his space with vague comments about "learning about relationships" and "more emotionally mature than his old man." Dick grinned at the girl that Danny was trying, oh, so hard, not to attack.

She was not a ghost. Danny wasn't sure what she was, but she was not a ghost.

"Oh!" Steph appeared and Danny glared at the blond girl. This was her fault. He didn't know how, but this was her fault. Or maybe Cass. Or Ellie.

His suspect pool was too large for this.

"How'd ya meet?" asked Steph as she bounced off Dick's shoulder.

Fuuka laid her head against Damian's shoulder. "Damian saved me," she said with clear adoration in her voice.

"Aw!" cooed Steph. Both Steph and Dick ushered Damian and Fuuka inside.

Danny--Danny had to let them do it. What could he say, "No, this is a video game character, Damian why are you dating a video game character?"

"Yo, Danny," called Dick. "You coming?"

Inspiration struck and Danny pulled out his phone. "In a minute," he said as he searched his contact list. It couldn't have been that long since they'd been in contact, could it? "I need to make a phone call."

"I guess that means we'll just get a head start on learning about Damian's girlfriend," said Dick casually.

Danny bit back a scream as he finally found the contact. "Have fun," he said through grit teeth as he pressed the icon. "Please pick up," he chanted as the other phone rang through the line. He looked back at the manor that now housed six people, two ghosts, and one video game character. "Please pick up!"

[geraskierfanficprompts]

I think it would be neat if Geralt had synaesthesia.

It would make his sensitive senses even more overwhelming, and it would add a new layer to how he views Jaskier's voice.

At first, the garish, distracting colors are worse than the voice itself. How does someone's voice have so many different colors? Why do they have to be so bright and eye-catching?

Then, they just become a part of his world. An extra layer to existence.

But, after the mountain, his world is literally less colorful. More dreary.

THIS IS SUCH AN OLD ASK I'M SO SORRRYYYY I like the idea of him finding his Jaskier and getting his colors back 🥺

[goddessofroyalty]

hello! the fanart of Viktor with a baby you reblogged this week got me right in the soft feels u.u would you consider revisiting the Work/Life Balance 'verse? (random ideas: pregnant Viktor dealing with a minor illness (very minor, not a complication, no real threat to his health and no threat whatsoever to the baby, but Jayce is still fussing over them)? how a newborn affects Viktor's already hectic work/sleep schedule? either Viktor can't or chooses not to nurse and good papa Jayce does his part with formula and bottles?)

Kind of combined the second two parts of this into what I’ve written but more leaning on good papa Jayce helping feed their baby. Maybe I’ll figure out a quick 4th scene (to even out the POV’s) that focuses a bit more on Viktor’s messy sleeping schedule. Have also made a note of the first prompt as well to do separately.

I’ve given up and am naming this kid Naph as well. Why? Because it’s a nice easy name for me to kidnap and gods knows Arcane played fast and loose with League lore anyway. Also I like it and it has become the default in my brain if nothing else fills the space. It can be easily subbed out if I decide on something different later.

Warnings: past-mpreg, omegaverse (I refer to the baby as pup that’s literally it), some mention of after-birth pains (nothing major just a bit tender)

------------------

Viktor wakes to the sound of a baby crying.

“I’ve got him, don’t get up,” Jayce says as the sleep fades from Viktor’s brain and he remembers that it is their baby that is crying not just some random abstract one. Their baby that Viktor had given birth to days prior and had finally been allowed back home that day. The doctors happy with both their progress.

The bed shifts as Jayce gets up to go to their child. Viktor pushes himself up on his arms to sit up more as he does. Wincing as his weight settles on where he’s still tender from the birth.

“I told you not to get up,” Jayce says holding their son in his arms as he looks back at Viktor. It is a good image and one Viktor could get used to seeing. Will get used to seeing, as surreal as that feels.

“And I have not gotten out of bed.” Nor will he be. Not when he has a perfectly good and willing Jayce to get things for him while he still heals from the birth. To make up for you having done all the work to this point Jayce had said and Viktor had nothing to gain from fighting him on it. “What’s the time?”

“2AM. And you can go back to sleep,” Jayce says. “He just needs a bottle.”

“I’m awake now.” Viktor had never been able to go back to sleep once he woke. There always something he’d rather be spending the time doing than tossing and turning. “I can hold him while you heat up the bottle.”

“The doctors said you need rest,” Jayce says despite it being clear he needs both hands to keep their son settled which would leave none free to prepare a bottle as well.

“I am resting!” Despite how much he misses it he still hasn’t returned to the lab since he was put on bedrest in the final trimester. Working on formulas and schematics from bed can hardly be considered work. It’s just keeping his mind occupied. “Let me hold him.”

Jayce clearly wants to argue but he relents when Viktor raises an eyebrow. Carefully handing their son over and only taking his hands away once the baby is very secure and settled.

Viktor would almost be offended at the lack of trust but he all-too-well understands the impulse. It turns out newborns are tiny and so delicate. It is almost terrifying to think about all the different ways they could accidently hurt him. It is scary to even have him in Viktor’s arms but also nerve-wracking when he is not within easy reach.

“I’ll be right back,” Jayce promises, only taking his eyes off them when he physically leaves the room.

Viktor once again examines his son while he waits. He had hoped their child would have taken a little more after both of them rather than looking mostly like Viktor but it is still impressive to think mere days ago Naph was still growing inside him and now the boy is alive and experiencing the world, frowning up at Viktor as his tongue peaks out between tiny lips, followed by a small cry of impatience.

“Not much longer,” Viktor promises. If his milk had come in the wait wouldn’t have to be this long. But it is useful to know that Jayce can look after their son entirely on his own if needed.

Naph is still far too young to actually understand what Viktor is saying. Another louder cry being made as Jayce hurries back into the room.

“No, no, don’t cry, I got it,” Jayce rambles, sliding into bed beside Viktor, warm bottle in hand. He pauses when Viktor holds their child back out to him. “Uh-“

“You said you were feeding him, no?” Viktor has no problems with doing it as well but Jayce likes to feel useful. And Viktor likes to watch him with their son.

“Right, of course,” Jayce recovers quickly. Carefully taking their son back into his arms, offering him the bottle. It only takes two passes of the teat for the tiny mouth to open to let it pass.

“He is hungry,” Jayce says as their son makes quick work of the bottle.

“I suppose it was a big day for him.” For Viktor and Jayce they came home but all their son knew until the day before was the hospital.

“It was,” Jayce agrees, shifting slightly to allow Viktor to lean in closer and push the fabric from their son’s onesie down from where it had crept up to his mouth. “But we can all rest for now.”

Viktor gives a hum of agreement despite how he already itches to get back to the lab.

-------------------

Jayce wakes to find himself alone in the bed.

It isn’t that unusual. Neither he nor Viktor can be said to have a normal sleeping schedule even before their pup was born. But Jayce still never likes it when he reaches out for his partner only to find cold bedsheets.

He pulls himself out of bed and shuffles to the main living area. There’s no point trying to get back to sleep anyway and he might as well check on Naph to make sure he hasn’t woken in the night.

Viktor had apparently had the same thought whenever he had gotten up. He stands in front of the blackboard they had set up so they can make any changes to their equations even when not in the lab, a piece of chalk balanced in the fingers of the hand resting on his cane as the other holds their son steady where he is swaddled against Viktor’s chest. A slight bounce with every move clearly to keep the pup settled.

“I put coffee on,” Viktor says, not even turning around to acknowledge Jayce. Not that Jayce wants him to – he’s perfectly happy just watching his partner and their child together.

“Thanks.” There’s an almost empty baby bottle next to the coffeepot. It’s cold to the touch so Jayce rinses it out in the sink and puts it to the side to be sanitized with the others. He makes Viktor a cup of coffee as well as his own. “Couldn’t get him to go back to sleep?”

“He doesn’t want to be put down,” Viktor says, looking away from their life’s work to their son. “Clingy. Like his father.”

Jayce can hardly blame his son for that – he wants to cling to Viktor too at times.

“I can take him if you need to write,” Jayce says as he brings Viktor’s coffee over to him. Tapping his partner on the arm with it before placing it down on the table they keep next to the blackboard almost exclusively for coffee. He picks up the old empty one and takes it back to the sink.

“It is fine,” Viktor says with a small shake of his head, his eyes flitting back to the blackboard. “I have nothing new to add to it anyway.”

Jayce would suggest Viktor go back to bed then but he knows his partner would have as much a chance of going back to sleep as he would.

Instead he joins Viktor at the blackboard. Close enough that Viktor can shuffle over and lean against him while they both try and figures out how the equations fit together and wait for the morning sun.

------------------

“Jayce!” Viktor calls because he is in the middle of wiring up the controls for the latest iteration of Hexgates and their son is crying. Jayce is just doing some paperwork, necessary, yes, but nowhere near as dangerous to be walked away from in the middle of.

“Huh?” Jayce asks as he sticks his head into the room before realizing why he was called. “Right. On it.”

“Up we go,” Jayce says as he picks their son up from the cot they keep in the lab for him to sleep in while they work. Out of the corner of his eye Viktor watches his partner hold their son high to sniff at his backside. “Nope. Must be hungry.”

Viktor returns his attention back fully to his work as Jayce carries their son into the kitchenette of the lab to heat up a bottle for him. He’s still at it when he two return, their son still in Jayce’s arms as he comes to watch over Viktor’s shoulder.

“How are you going?”

“Nearly finished.” The wiring had nearly taken him all day but it should be worth it.

“And then we can test it?” Jayce asks despite the fact he should already know the answer.

“Yes. They should lead to a less, uh, jolty experience when the jump is made.”

Jayce doesn’t respond, but Viktor can hear him pace around the lab no doubt bouncing their child in his arms as he does to keep the boy settled and not distracting Viktor’s work.

Viktor doesn’t alert his partner to the fact once he finishes. Instead watching the two of them for the minute it takes Jayce to notice himself. He had been told by many how lucky he was to have Jayce as the father of his child and, really, he cannot argue it.

[kinardsevan]

Prompt: Buck finds out that Tommy is actually related to TK Strand.

(ahem. you asked for this.)

ETA: I have a serious problem with word skipping when reading if you can’t tell 🙃

He never intended to find out this kind of information. He done the 23&me on a whim after joking around with Eddie and Chim at work when Chim had randomly dropped into conversation “did you know I’m eight percent Scottish?” And of course they didn’t know, because how would that information have been freely available to him? How would he ever have known? 

And then Chimney had gifted him and Eddie each tests for Christmas, and at the time, Evan had figured ‘why the hell not?’ So he’d done the whole thing. Spit in the tube, sent it in, figured maybe he could at least find out if he had to worry about cancer in his future due to the Daniel of it all. 

“You sure you want to mess around in that,” Tommy had asked him over dinner one night. “I’ve heard about people finding out about murderers in their family.” 

But he’d been so sure. So sure there would be nothing interesting that would come back. There was nothing fun about the Buckley’s. His parents are teachers. His grandparents died of natural causes. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Turns out it was a lot. 

. . .

He’s on the stairs when Tommy comes into the loft, duffel still hitched up on his shoulder. They’re supposed to be spending the weekend together, but Evan’s not really sure what’s going to happen after the last twenty-four hours. 

“Hey,” Tommy murmurs softly, letting his bag hit the floor as he walks over to the stairs. He perches down at the base of them, resting a hand on Evan’s knee and ilfting the other to his face, brushing away the tears there. 

“Hi,” Evan rasps back, still staring at his hands folded in front of him. 

“Eddie said Bobby sent you home,” Tommy murmurs. Evan nods. 

“What’s going on,” Tommy asks softly, concern laced around his words. 

Evan’s eyebrows are knit so tightly together they could one into one another and the line his mouth is pressed into could crack peanut shells. 

“I-…My…Um, Maddie…” The words keep dying in his throat before he can get them out, and it just keeps making the knot in his chest tighter. 

“Is something wrong with Maddie?” 

Evan’s head lifts then, meeting Tommy’s eyes. There are conflicting emotions in the blonde’s sapphire eyes. Sorrow. A little bit of anger. Something else Tommy can’t place. Loss? 

“No,” he replies rapidly. “No, she’s fine. B-but she’s… she’s not-…”  Evan shakes his head at himself and reaches for his phone next to him on the stairs. He unlocks it, swipes at it a few times, and then passes it to Tommy. Tommy stares at him for a moment longer than necessary, and then looks down at the screen. 

“Family tree,” Tommy comments, moving the screen around to see the connections. It takes him a moment, but then suddenly he’s pulling the phone closer to his face, moving things around. “Where’s Maddie and Chim?” 

Evan lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, pressing the back of a hand to his nose as he sniffles. Tommy just keeps staring at the phone. 

“This has to be wrong,” Tommy comments. He sets the phone down and looks back up at Evan, cupping his face. 

“It’s not,” Evan rasps, blinking more tears down. “I got the first set of results weeks ago. Told them the same thing. They had me send a fresh sample and retest.” 

Tommy deadpans at him, eyes widened. “Evan.” 

“They’re not my family, Tommy.” His voice is so small and broken that it breaks Tommy, and he can’t stop the tears in his own eyes. “I never fit in because I didn’t belong to them. I’ve never belonged to them.” 

Tommy slides his hands off Evan’s face then and stands, pulling the blonde up with him as he does and into a tight hug. Evan burrows his face into Tommy’s neck, crying softly into the fabric of his maroon henley.

“I’m so sorry, Evan,” he murmurs to him, hand to the back of his head and lips to his temple. For all the jokes everyone has made in recent weeks after Chimney had gifted his friends the test, nobody, not even Tommy, could’ve forseen this outcome. 

They stand in that position for a while, letting Evan process. When it seems like he’s calmed enough, Tommy pulls him over to the table and they sit down next to each other. Tommy pulls Evan’s chair right up next to his, stretching his arm across the back of it and resting his free hand in the blonde’s on the table. 

“There’s nothing that says you have to do anything with any of this information,” Tommy tells him. “Maddie is still your sister. Your family is still your family.” 

Evan sniffles, leans over and rests his head on Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I know them,” he murmurs a moment later, his voice cracking. “The-…my biological family. I know them.” 

“You do,” Tommy asks. He tries not to sound overly curious in case Evan doesn’t want to give more information. 

Evan nods, lifting his head back up. “You remember my friends who came through a few weeks ago to visit?We went to dinner with them?” 

Tommy’s brow furrows as he tries to recall what Evan is specifically referring to. When it clicks, he looks back over at him. 

“TK and Carlos?” 

Evan nods. “H-his parents-… o-or I guess….” He pauses, shakes his head. “Owen and Gwyn had a kid their first year of college. Me, apparently.” 

Tommy frowns at him. 

“They placed the baby for adoption,” Evan continues. “With the option for the baby- me… to seek them out if I decided to once I was an adult.” He pauses for a moment, scowling at his table. “I don’t know h-how, but m-my parents...they tried to have a savior sibling, for Daniel. And it didn’t work. But they knew people through the hospital, a-and when I was born…” His voice trails off, his expression shifting to one of disgust. He looks up at Tommy. “I was technically a match to Daniel. But the graft didn’t take.” 

Tommy narrows his eyes at him, the weight of what Evan’s telling him sinking in. “They adopted you so they could have your bone marrow?” 

Evan lets out disgusted laugh, shaking his head. 

“And then when I couldn’t save the son they actually wanted, they acted like I wasn’t their problem,” he mutters. “And they never told me. “ 

Tommy huffs. He lifts his arm from behind Evan and pulls him in, presses his lips to the blonde’s birthmark. 

“I know it’s not a consolation, but you can still know them,” he states softly. “You already have TK in your life.” 

Evan shakes head, pulling away and looking at Tommy again, more tears in his eyes. 

“Gwyn is dead,” he tells him. “She’s been gone for two years now.” 

Tommy’s head tilts at the information, sorrow and compassion crossing his face. TK also had mentioned when they met that his father was a cancer survivor, and the realization of both of those factors is almost gut-wrenching. 

“I don’t have the right answers for this,” he admits softly. “But I can be here with you through it, whatever you want to do.” 

Evan nods. He leans back over, resting his head on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy presses his face into Evan’s hair, leaving quick, gentle kisses there as his fingers massage gently on his scalp. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever loved me just as I am,” Evan murmurs, snuffling back a small whimper. “The only one who’s ever decided I was enough this way.” 

Tommy gulps down past the knot in his throat as he fists a handful of Evan’s hair, holding him close a beat longer. 

“Never gonna stop,” he rasps after a moment. “This version of you is enough, no matter what anyone else thinks.” 

[madmanwonder]

Prompt

Jaune is staying over in the Schnee Mansion and tries to sing a romantic song to Weiss from outside of the door. Unfortunately, he picked the wrong one and is singing to Willow instead. She now thinks that it is for her instead.

Romantic, Mistaken Identity

When he sings the song he wrote and sings it to her door, Jaune Arc thinks he will finally get Weiss to see his romantic interest and open to him being her boyfriend...

...it did not as he find himself looking at Willow Schnee, the mother of his crush who was looking at him with lovestruck expression, pink hearts in her blue eyes.

"I never knew such feeling from a kind, handsome young man like yourself have for a old, washed croon like me." Willow replied with a teary smile as she entered his space to give him a tight hug... Jaune returned back with an uncertain look on his face as he wondered how would Weiss react to him accidentally making her mother fall in love with him.