#cat and mouse spy fic

[penny00dreadful]

Spies AU - Complete

Part 1 Part 15 AO3

13th December 2015

Kas was dead.

The ghost that haunted the nightmares of Creel’s enemies was dead.

The legend was dead.

The news was met with both disbelief and scorn throughout the underworld. 

Kas the Bloodyhanded had not only been real and just as deadly as all the rumours had said, but he had also gone down burning the mansion of the most ruthless and influential criminal boss in modern memory, stabbing his master in the back in the process. 

It sounded like something out of a novel.

He had killed his boss for his sweetheart, the rumours said.

It gained him a new title.

Kas, The Betrayer.

People made it a whole romantic thing.

That Kas had found out his next job was to assassinate his sweetheart and he just couldn't do it because he was so in love, he turned on his boss, making sure his sweetheart was safe before he went to Creel’s mansion, the two of them perishing amongst the flames.

If Kas had been legendary before he was borderline mythical now.

Steve wrinkled his nose.

It was all twisted up with a rose coloured filter over the top, sweeping orchestral music and dramatic declarations of love.

The truth of it was dirtier, bloodier, tinged with fear and panic. It was slow and agonising and heartbreaking. 

Kas hadn’t turned his back on Creel the second he was given the order to kill his sweetheart.

He had broken into Steve’s apartment and pointed a gun at him and intended to kill him. 

And Steve had looked him dead in the eye, knowing that Eddie could have easily done just that.

But Steve also knew, down into his soul, that Eddie wouldn’t hurt him.

Kas might have, but Eddie would never.

He never doubted for a second, even when Eddie did, even when Eddie had thought he could still kill him.

But when it came down to it, Eddie’s eyes had been shiny, his lip was trembling and his hand had been shaking.

He knew Creel was watching him and was listening to make sure he went through with it. Because he suspected that Eddie had gone soft. That this was a line he couldn’t cross. 

And he was right, though he didn’t need to know that at the time.

Eddie had shot, but he’d moved the gun, the bullet tearing through the communicator over Steve’s ear, destroying it. 

Steve’s vitals flatlined like they had back when he’d taken that baseball bat to the back of the head and his communicator self-destructed.

The echo of the gunshot through Steve’s apartment had no sooner faded than Eddie had collapsed in on himself.

Steve had crumpled to the floor right along with him, wrapping himself around him, unable to break through Eddie’s sobs about how he’d just condemned his people to painful deaths because Creel would find out, of course he’d find out, and he’d make their deaths agonising and he’d make Eddie watch and-

Steve had to kiss him to quieten him, try to calm him down so he could get a word in edgewise.

It was wet and messy and gross but it did the job.

He was finally able to tell Eddie they had his people in their sights, it would just take one phone call to make them safe.

“Call them!” Eddie had his fists curled into Steve’s top, his face was wet and blotchy and red and he stared at Steve, practically shaking him. “Call them, sweetheart, please! I can’t- I can’t lose them, I can’t…”

Eddie broke down again, so Steve just held him tighter. He pulled Eddie’s hair away from his face and tried to continue soothing him, rocking him back and forth. He took his phone out and dialled.

Eddie was still shaking in his arms when he told the kids to eliminate their targets and call him back once it was done.

He held him close and tried to comfort him, to make him feel better, but Eddie was still convinced everything was hopeless.

When Steve tried to get him up off the floor and take him into his safe room, keep him as secure and sheltered and away from Creel for as long as he could, Eddie had refused to move. 

He couldn’t hide, he couldn’t run.

He had to go get Robin.

Creel would be keeping an extremely close and suspicious eye on him, just in case he had managed to do exactly what he had just done. 

Betray him.

Steve felt the panic starting to kick in again at the reminder that Robin had just been fucking attacked in the office but Eddie told him with a thick voice and a shake in his arms, like he expected Steve to lash out at him, that they weren’t going to kill her.

Creel wanted her.

It was barely a half an hour later when the kids had called back to say Eddie’s people were safe, they’d managed to eliminate their targets with terrifying efficiency, Eddie collapsed all over again. But there were no tears this time, just hyperventilating relief. 

He wasn’t sure he believed it at first, Steve could tell from the look on his face, he was both relieved and a little disbelieving. He’d spent so long under Creel’s thumb, thinking that this was all his life was ever going to be until he died. 

It was a little difficult to swallow that he was nearly out.

But eventually Steve managed to assure him that it happened. Freedom was just on the horizon and Steve would do anything to make sure Eddie got there.

Surprisingly the most difficult person to take down had been Billy. Steve would have expected it to be Connie, but apparently Billy just refused to stay down. And he played dirty.

All the kids had to come in and help with that one. 

But Max had told him she’d taken great joy in crushing his balls and his head under her baseball bat. 

In that order. 

The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity.

Eddie gave Steve as much information as he could about Creel’s contingency plans and in return, Steve told Eddie about the night he and Robin came out to each other, telling him to use that if he needed her to play along.

Steve had then called Hopper and got him up to speed, getting him to bring in his most trusted Agents to help knee-cap Creel before he could run. Then all that was left was to follow Eddie to the office and then to the mansion at a distance.

He had to admit, it was a lot of dramatic flair to bust into Creel’s office when he did, but he had been given the perfect opening, how could he not respond to being called just a piece of ass?

But then everything had gone to shit.

Robin got stabbed, Eddie disappeared and a corner of the mansion had been blown to pieces, killing four Agents and severely injuring three.

The smoke and flames were only getting higher and Eddie hadn’t reappeared yet.

Hopper looked like he wanted to stop him going back in after he had gotten Robin to safety, but they both knew nothing was going to stop him finding his baby.

Steve had never felt fear like he did carrying Eddie out of that burning building. 

Eddie was slipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes speaking, sometimes going completely limp and when he muttered “I love you” with his head lolling against Steve’s shoulder, Steve nearly broke down on the spot.

He tried to stop him, tried to convince the both of them that he didn’t want to hear it now, he wanted to hear it after, he wanted to hear it when Eddie was safe and whole and okay.

But Eddie was insistent and Steve would never be able to deny him anything.

Even as he sat and watched Eddie’s chest slowly rise and fall in his hospital bed, small and fragile and delicate, he knew he’d give Eddie anything he ever wanted for the rest of his life.

13th December 2015

“Um, hello?”

Steve looked up from his curled up position on the chair by Eddie’s bed.

He was met by the sight of three familiar faces peering around the doorframe, Jeff, Gareth and Grant looking in at him with polite masks, trying to hide their confusion about who this tired and worried stranger was sitting by their friends bedside.

“Hi.” Steve said, getting to his feet and wincing at the various cracks his joints let out, giving away that he’d been sitting in the same position for far too long.

Even though he’d been at this job for nearly ten years, it never got any less weird meeting people who had no idea who he was when he knew an extensive amount about them.

He shook their hands as they introduced themselves by name but then hesitated, trying to figure out how to introduce himself.

“Steve.” He said. “I’m his…” he glanced back at Eddie then towards the boys again. “I’m- I’m… his.”

The soft smiles they gave him in response were almost enough to break his heart all over again.

He turned back, gesturing them over to Eddie’s bedside, needing a moment to get himself under control. 

Grant seemed to take pity on him, breaking the silence as they all sat down, the great big bear of a man settling himself down gently at Steve’s side while Gareth and Jeff sat at the opposite side of the bed.

“How’s he been?”

Steve swallowed through the emotions and managed a smile. “He’s been in and out. It’s gonna take a few months for him to heal. His lungs and chest will always be moving while he's breathing so it’ll be harder. But he’s really just sleeping off the worst of it at the moment.”

He wanted to reach out and take Eddie’s hand again, but he felt so awkward about it.

Gareth sighed, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed and holding his head in his hands. “We always knew it would be something stupid like this that got him.” He muttered, angry and worried all at once. “I mean, he’s a demolitions expert. Shouldn’t he know not to let a building collapse around him?”

“That’s not fair, Gare.” Jeff’s eyes flicked in between Steve and Gareth like he expected Steve to jump up and start defending Eddie’s honour, but Steve knew people and he knew Gareth was just fucking stressed and worried. He didn’t blame him. It would have been worse if he’d known what actually happened. 

Gareth opened his mouth as if he was about to argue back but just as quickly deflated.

“I know. Maybe now Wayne will actually be able to convince him to retire.”

Steve nodded, hoping that he would also be able to convince Eddie to keep himself safe from now on too. But now that he thought about it-

“Where is Wayne?” He asked, realising that he hadn’t seen him yet. “I would have expected him to be breaking down the doors as soon as he heard.”

Jeff nodded. “He would have been if he could have. But there was an issue with his dialysis nurse. Apparently she just up and quit out of nowhere and he’s pissed. So he’ll be in once he has a new nurse sorted out.”

“Oh.”

Shit.

Maybe he should try to help with that. It was the least he could do, really.

“How come Eddie’s back in Hawkins anyway?”

Steve fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves. “Um… that would be me.” He said, unable to meet their eyes. “I thought he would want to be back here with you and with Wayne. I know I was probably overstepping, I’m sorry-”

A warm and gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. I think he’s gonna be very appreciative of it once he’s able to tell which way is up.” Grant said, his voice soft and comforting.

Steve gave him a small smile back and settled a little more comfortably in his chair. 

It didn’t last very long though, because Jeff looked across the bed at him and asked in a curious voice, “So. How did you two meet?”

And fuck.

They hadn’t come up with any kind of story about that. When would they have had the time? In between running into each other on jobs or trying to scramble for their lives and the lives of their loved ones?

The three of them were looking at him expectantly and he had to figure out something.

“Oh, we uh… I guess it was when… um- so what happened was-”

“Tried to pickpocket him.” Eddie’s wheezing voice came from the bed. Four heads whipped around to look at him as he rubbed his cheek into the pillow, his eyes gleaming in Steve’s direction. “Then he shoved me into an alley and paid- paid me $20 to blow him.” Eddie’s words were stilted and slow, his breathing a little shorter and sharper than usual, not able to move his chest as he normally would but he was coherent and sure.

Steve’s face lit up fire truck red. “That’s not-” He stuttered, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. 

He really wanted Eddie’s people to like him and this was not the way to do it.

“‘S how I remember it, sweetheart.”

Jeff and Grant sniggered to themselves while Gareth hummed, placing a hand against Eddie’s arm. 

“Did you at least make it good for him?”

Eddie shrugged, just a little jerk of his shoulder on his uninjured side, wiggling around to face his friend. 

“Worth every cent.”

Gareth nodded like he expected as much. “Not the worst thing you’ve ever done in an alleyway.”

Eddie grinned back. “Damn straight.”

Steve squirmed in his seat, still wanting to defend Eddie against his friends who were clearly only poking fun and not taking anything he said seriously. 

It was the same kind of ribbing he’d get from Robin. Maybe not from the kids, but Robin would be going for his throat in the exact same way, especially if he scared her like Eddie must have done to his friends.

Steve let himself fade into the background, watching the four of them catch up around him. 

Despite his pallid and tired face lying in the hospital bed, Eddie looked like he’d been given an injection of adrenaline, alight with energy being back around his friends again. 

It made Steve so happy to see he wanted to fucking cry. 

With slow and calculated movements, he managed to slip out of the room, mostly unseen. Eddie’s eyes flicked over to him once or twice but there was no fear or apprehension about being left alone in them, just a small ticking up at the corner of his mouth, letting Steve know it was okay, he was well taken care of here. 

13th December 2015

Steve stayed gone a little longer than he had meant to. 

He’d gotten on the phone with Robin, giving her an update on everything and like the two of them so often did, they ended up completely lost in conversation, it was only when she mentioned the kids had asked about how he and Eddie were doing that he remembered he needed to call them too.

The kids were beyond curious about Eddie, both about how he was healing and how on earth Steve had managed to bag such a badass assassin.

Steve frowned.

“Because I’m a badass super spy?”

“Well yeah.” Dustin agreed with an eye roll that Steve could hear. “We know that but Eddie sounds so cool and you’re just so…”

“I’m just so what, Henderson?”

“You’re just so… like… straight laced.”

“Okay, one: there’s nothing straight about me-”

“Well duh-”

“Two: I am definitely hot enough to bag someone like Eddie-”

“Ugh-”

“Keep giving me lip and I won’t let you meet him.”

“Steve.” Dustin sighed as if disappointed. “Your new boyfriend, partner, lover-”

“Oh god, don’t ever use that word again-”

“Whatever he is to you, is an assassin with a code name from D&D, what makes you think you can keep us away?”

“I’ll use my super sexy spy skills-”

“Stop-!”

“Keep him hidden away from little shithead gremlins-”

“We are all in our mid-twenties-”

“Don’t remind me-”

It went on like that for a while, as it usually did whenever he and Dustin devolved into bickering, neither of them able to get a full sentence out as they poked at each other.

“When was the last time you left the hospital grounds?”

Steve snapped his mouth shut, Max’s voice coming from nowhere through the phone while he and Dustin snapped back and forth, all the kids on speaker phone.

“I… I can take care of myself, Mayfield.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you’re not answering the question?”

Steve pursed his lips.

“Oh, look at that! I’m going through a tunnel, bye!”

“Ste-!”

He hung up, knowing far too well that the argument that had surely broken out between the kids would take up enough time for him to come up with a proper excuse about why he’d been holed up in the hospital day in and day out and not at the hotel room provided by the Agency.

Shaking his head and seeing evening start to creep in through the windows, he decided some shitty vending machine coffee would be the best option for tonight, getting a second cup of decaf for Eddie in case he was still awake.

As he approached Eddie’s hospital room he noticed the door was now closed and based on his glimpse through the window, the boys had left. Eddie was sitting up though, propped up against his numerous pillows, which was a good sign.

Steve shouldered his way through the door, eyes on the cups in his hands.

“The kids are still crawling up my fucking ass about getting to meet you-”

Steve snapped his mouth shut, noticing the other figure in the room, sitting at Eddie’s bedside, a cane in one hand and an eyebrow raised.

Wayne.

Eddie was glancing between the two of them, not quite apprehensive but not quite gleeful either. Maybe a little nervous.

Steve blinked, still frozen in place while Wayne appraised him.

Eventually Wayne leaned back in his chair, fingers laced over his belly. 

“S-Steve.” Steve said, by way of a truly pitiful introduction, like an idiot, given he was still standing there like a fish out of water.

“I know who you are.” Wayne answered, completely impenetrable. “Seems a bit sporty for you, Ed.”

“Wayne, be nice.” Eddie chastised his uncle, who didn’t take his eyes off Steve even as a slow smile curled over his face. “Look at him, the poor guy- s shaking in his trainers.”

Steve huffed, shoving his nerves down and finally getting his legs to start moving again, placing the decaf cup down on Eddie’s rolling table.

“Is this going to be my life now?” He asked the both of them. “Being teased mercilessly by everyone close to you?”

Eddie grinned at him, wide and toothy. “Absolutely.”

Steve threw himself down into the chair across from Wayne. “Well, nothing I’m not used to I suppose.”

Wayne was still smiling at him, his head tilted to the side in a move that was way too familiar, his eyes boring into Steve with an intensity he’d rarely wilted under before but Jesus Christ did he feel like wilting now.

“You’ve got kids?”

Steve felt his ears heat up.

“No, they’re… well the kids- or not kids, they’re in their twenties, but I took them under my wing a few years ago and I guess they stuck around-”

Wayne hummed, cutting him off and nodding his head.

“Ed always wanted kids.”

The squeak that left Steve’s throat was not something he would ever admit to under threat of death or torture, ever, ever, ever. 

All his years of spy training, all his years of dedication and subterfuge and unflappable confidence went out the fucking window in the face of Wayne Munson, the most important person in Eddie’s life.

He couldn’t stand to look in Eddie’s direction.

“Oh, I- me… me too, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Wayne.” Eddie said a little more forcefully. “Leave him alone. I just managed to get- get my claws into him, I don’t need you… scaring him off.”

Wayne finally tore his gaze away and Steve felt like he could breathe again.

“You finally gonna listen to me and retire from that job?” Wayne asked, turning to Eddie. “Do something a little less dangerous?”

Eddie smiled at his uncle, eyes flicking to Steve and then back again. “Yeah, I think so.”

1st June 2016

Steve was fucking exhausted.

His last few months at work had been busier than usual, the vacuum of power Creel left in his wake giving all those on the lower rungs ideas about ascending to his level and neither Steve nor the Agency were about to let that happen.

But Jesus Christ, these people did not go down easy.

Steve grimaced as he stepped into the elevator up to his apartment, the small metal box closing him in with his own smell, stagnant water, fish and something oily and greasy.

His clothes were still damp from where he and his opponent had tumbled into the old breeding pool at the abandoned salmon farm and all he wanted to do was fucking shower.

Scrub himself until the top layer of skin was removed completely, fall into bed and then sleep away the rest of the night until Eddie got back from his visit to Hawkins tomorrow.

He was pretty sure he could almost see the cartoon grey cloud hanging over his head, his shoulders slumped, his head drooped and his footsteps plodding as he made his way down the hallway to his apartment.

Steve shoved his apartment door open and was met with a sensory overload.

The sounds of guitar and drums were vibrating through the air and the smell of something garlic and creamy hitting him as he closed the door behind him. The apartment was warm and the lights were already on.

His stomach grumbled so loud, he could hear it over the metal music and he was pretty sure his mouth was fucking watering.

As he stepped further inside, Steve was met with the sight of Eddie practically throwing himself around their kitchen, head swinging back and forth, knees kicking up, fist in the air while something bubbled in a saucepan on the stove.

Darkness imprisoning me

All that I see

Absolute horror

I cannot live

I cannot-

“Woah.” Eddie said as he turned and caught sight of him, completely unashamed about what he’d just been doing, but turning the music down anyway. 

Steve watched him, a little dazed, his posture still slumped and probably looking like a damp, kicked puppy.

“What happened to you, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, stepping closer. “Rough day at the office?”

Steve blinked at him, overwhelmed and bone tired.

“You’re here.”

Eddie grinned at him, stepping closer again. “I’m here.”

Steve took a few steps back with his hands up though all he wanted to do was just fall into him.

“I wouldn’t.” He frowned, even as he said it. “I smell like shit.”

Eddie’s brow wrinkled but he still continued to approach. “I don’t care.” He said, even as he couldn’t help the scrunch of his nose. “Is that fish?”

Steve grimaced as Eddie’s fingertips touched his cheek, the thick layer of grime he could feel over him making him squirm.

“Okay.” Eddie said, giving in to Steve’s clear discomfort. “You go shower and I’ll finish up your dinner. Sound good?”

Steve’s shoulders fell again, but this time in relief and he shot Eddie what must have surely been a grateful if not lovesick smile.

“Yeah.” He sighed out.

Eddie sent him off to the bathroom with a wink, the volume of the music climbing again behind Steve as he walked away, though not as loud as it had been.

Steve shuddered to himself as he peeled his clothes off, barely wasting any time between getting naked and throwing himself into the shower, not even bothering to switch it on first.

He could deal with the cold spray until it got warm.

His muscles unwound themselves and his brain finally started to get a bit quieter as the smells around him slowly changed from disgusting fish and old water smells to the soapy fresh smells of his shampoo and body wash.

Steve was no stranger to taking time in the shower, making sure he gave his hair all the love and attention it needed but tonight he stayed even longer, just letting the hot water melt his muscles into a puddle.

He had his forehead against the shower tiles, letting the water hit his back. He didn’t even jump when the door slid open behind him and a pair of tattooed arms wrapped around him to hold him tight, warm and comforting. 

“Are you letting dinner burn again?” Steve asked, turning his head a little against the tile to glance over his shoulder.

Eddie was watching him with dark eyes, his lips pressed against Steve’s neck.

“No. I’m keeping it warm in the oven for you. And I’ve only ever burned dinner once.”

“Because you’re insatiable.”

“Because I love you.”

Steve pressed his arms down over Eddie’s, keeping them in place around him.

“I love you too.”

“I know.” Eddie hummed into his neck, not kissing, just dragging his lips up and down with the lightest of touches, lightly trailing his fingers down Steve’s stomach.

Steve tipped his head back as Eddie began to press his palm against him, working him up to full hardness in almost no time and sucking at the skin just below his jaw.

He was just starting to get lost in the rhythm of thrusting his hips forward when Eddie removed his hand, turning Steve by the shoulder and guiding him to lean back against the tile wall.

He watched with hooded eyes as Eddie slowly lowered himself to his knees, barely settling his weight down before he took Steve into his mouth and straight down to the back of his throat. 

Steve’s eyes rolled and his head dropped back to thunk against the tiles. Eddie had his hands splayed over his hips, holding him down and Steve dug his fingers into the wet curls atop his head, not gripping or pulling, just resting there, content enough to feel the small bobbing motions.

“Baby,” he panted, tilting his head back down and watching Eddie look up at him with those huge eyes, lips red, cheeks hollow and fully hard. “Touch yourself, please.”

Even though his mouth was stretched around Steve’s cock, he still somehow managed to grin, knowing Steve was desperate to see him enjoy himself as well.

Steve brought his other hand up from where it was hanging limp, using it to tangle his fingers with the one Eddie still had on his hip, holding on tight while he was brought to the edge in record time, spilling down Eddie’s throat embarrassingly quickly while Eddie worked himself in his hand.

If Steve had thought he felt boneless before, it was nothing on what he felt now, his legs shaking and his mind calm and quiet while Eddie stood, just in time to cum all over Steve’s stomach. 

He looked down as it was all slowly washed away under the stream of water then back up when Eddie hooked a finger under his chin, guiding him into a slow and sweet kiss, full of love and affection.

“Are you feeling up to dinner?” He asked, soft against Steve’s lips. “Or do you just want to go straight to bed?”

Steve blinked at him slowly, his eyelids feeling weighted down. 

“I need to eat.” He muttered.

He’d love nothing more than to go straight to bed, but he couldn’t let all of Eddie’s hard work cooking him food go to waste. He’d never missed a dinner Eddie had made him and he didn’t intend to start now.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want the food Eddie made him, he very much did and it had smelled divine but he wasn’t completely sure he would be able to stay awake through the whole thing.

And he’d missed him. 

Eddie had been gone for a few days already by the time he’d been called out on his latest mission and Steve had ached to have him near again. He wanted to be close and he couldn’t force Eddie into bed with him when it was barely even seven in the evening.

Eddie was watching him with those burning and intense eyes like he was picking apart all of Steve’s thoughts and scanning through them, cataloguing them and tucking them away for later.

“Okay.” He smiled against his lips. “You want me to help you dry off and get dressed?”

Steve tipped his head to the side, burying his nose into Eddie’s neck and pulling him in tight.

“I’m just glad you’re home.”

Eddie squeezed him back. 

“I’m glad I’m home too.”

25th March 2023

Steve settled his gun harness around his shoulders, so lost in thought he nearly jumped when Eddie rounded the corner and leaned against their closet doorway.

“Something on your mind?” Eddie asked, arms crossed, the black of his wedding band stark against his skin, the only jewellery he was wearing this early in the morning.

Steve nodded, bucking himself in. He took the few steps forward until he was in Eddie’s space, running his hands up and down his arms.

“Do you remember what one of the first things Wayne said to me was?”

A crease appeared in Eddie’s brow to go along with the confused smile on his face.

“That you were too sporty for me?”

Steve shook his head, gripping Eddie’s arms tighter.

“He asked me if I had kids.”

Eddie’s mouth drew into a tight line.

“Not this again, sweetheart, please-” he moved to pull away but Steve held him tighter, keeping him in place. He knew that if Eddie wanted to break out of his grip he could have but he felt a small little bit of relief when he stayed where he was.

“And he said you always wanted kids too.”

“I did. I do. You know I do. But we’ve talked about this so many times-” Eddie sighed, pressing his forehead against Steve’s collarbone. “Your job is too dangerous. We can’t expose kids to that.”

“When I first took in the Party, they were practically kids.”

“They were teens. That’s different. We don’t need kids to have a full marriage.”

Steve nosed into Eddie’s hair, cupping the back of his head.

“But you want them. I want them.”

Eddie just burrowed in deeper. “But we don’t need them.”

“I don’t want to die with regrets, baby. I don’t want to be old and grey and thinking I shouldn’t have let my job get in the way of life with you.” He placed a kiss against Eddie’s temple. “And you’d be so pretty with children swinging out of you.”

That got Eddie to laugh. “Oh yeah, real pretty. You get to swan off and shoot people in the face. Meanwhile I’m back here, trying to handle fucking… Spider-Man birthday parties or something.”

“You’d love it.” Steve grinned, bringing his hands up to cup Eddie’s face, pulling his head back just enough to look at him. “You love being my little house husband.”

Eddie turned his head, grinning into Steve’s palm.

“I do.”

“I’ll talk to Hopper when I get back, okay? See if I can transition over to training duty for new recruits or something.”

“Really? You’d give up your dream position for that?”

Steve dipped forward, pressing a slow, sweet kiss against Eddie’s lips.

“You’re my dream, baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but brought his hands up to circle Steve’s wrists.

“Who taught you such sappy talk?”

“You did.”

Steve brought him in for another kiss, just as sweet and just as loving as the last. They were only broken apart when his watch beeped.

“I have to go.”

Eddie walked him down to the front door, lingering just inside the threshold.

Steve kissed him again, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll talk to him when I get back.”

Eddie nodded, a hopeful smile on his face.

“When you get back.”

A week later Steve would open his eyes to Eddie’s tear streaked face by his hospital bed, whispering to him angry and devastated, “If you ever do that to me again, I swear to god sweetheart, I’ll take you out myself.”

Steve just gave him a weak grin in return, squeezing his hand.

18th August 2023

Steve groaned as he blinked his eyes open. His back was still aching after being amateurly tied to that chair for however long. Being kidnapped was such a drag.

“I want to have kids with you.”

Steve blinked down at Eddie curled up against his chest, the morning light giving him a soft halo of light as he turned his head, chin digging into Steve’s sternum, eyes bleary and tired. 

Like he hadn’t slept a wink all night.

“What?”

“I thought-” Eddie tightened his arms momentarily, not enough to aggravate Steve’s back, but enough that he could feel it. “I thought you were gone. For a few terrible moments after Chrissy called… I thought you were gone. And I kept thinking that I’d missed it. I’d missed out on it. That I could never have it again because you were gone and I’d never get to see you hold our baby or push our kid on the swings or help them get ready for their first prom. You were gone and I’d missed my chance and I’d never have it again. I’d been so scared. I was so scared. I don’t want to be scared anymore, I’ve done enough of that in my life.” Eddie’s voice had started to crack and he buried his face back into Steve’s chest.

Steve felt like his heart was breaking.

“Baby-”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was scared. I didn’t think- I thought we’d have more time-”

“Hey. Hey, baby, come here.” Steve pulled at Eddie’s shoulders, unable to drag Eddie up his body but making his wants known. Eddie sniffled into his chest hair but wiggled his way up the bed regardless, burying his face into Steve’s neck while Steve enveloped him as much as he could.

“We have time. We have all the time in the world. Don’t jump into anything you’re not sure about-”

“I’m sure.” Eddie pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes red and his nose running. “I’m sure. I’ve been sure for a while, I just didn’t know how to- I kept putting off telling you, waiting for a better moment.”

“It’s alright.” Steve soothed, running his hand through Eddie’s hair, already knowing he’d give him everything. “It’ll be a big commitment, what with my back-”

Something like hope was starting to dawn on Eddie’s face, as if Steve could have ever thought of denying him anything.

“We’ll make it work. And you can walk again. Plus we’ll be getting your car soon, with the push pull pedals. We’ve fought bigger battles than this before.”

Steve smiled at him. 

“Yes we have.”

Eddie kissed him, wet and messy and elated.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered against his lips.

“I love you too, baby.”

Part 1 Part 15 AO3

It's done! Thank you so much, everyone for your support through this story, it's one of my favourites I've ever written and I LOVED how completely unhinged everyone was with me while we screamed about these two boys.

The song Eddie is listening to in the kitchen is One by Metallica, an absoloute banger of a song. It in no way is symbolic or reflective of his internal thoughts, it's just a song that fucking slaps. 😅

@geekymagicalpotato @estrellami-1

Divider by firefly-graphics

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation and of course I also have @steddielations to thank for planting the seed of this idea in the first place with their own spies ficlet so a big thank you to everyone! 😊

[claw-deen]

with a black cat variant s/o (genderneutral!reader):

miles would be like “no! stealing is wrong! 😤 but they look so cool while doing it tho 😩” his mind would be so confused, because yeah you're stealing, but only from rich people and he heard rumors about black cat helping people on the streets. one day he used his invisibility power to spy on you during one of your heist, he could have stopped you a hundred times that day, but he didn't. he might have developed the tiniest crush on you.

gwen thinks that you're the coolest person alive. yeah stealing is wrong, but she honestly doesn't care at all lol. as long as you're not hurting anyone you can rob as many rich people as you want she won't stop you. sometimes you meet on rooftops at night and often end up teaming up with her to defeat some bad guys, then you watch the sunrise together while chatting about your lives.

pavitr is suspicious of you at first, he understands that you're not a threat to the people he protects but he doesn't treat you like an ally either. he kept his distance from you until the day you saved his life; now he trusts you entirely and he likes to do his night shifts in your company. he knows you won't like it but he's very worried about you and your illegal activity, he'd rather have you doing vigilante work with him.

hobie is a big fan. he heard about you as someone who stole the rich to give to the poor and he was like “slay.” he's the one who came to you during one of your heists and asked you to team up with him. now you, pavitr and hobie want to rob museums to return all the stolen objects to their people. hobie admires you a lot, like gwen, he thinks you're the coolest person he ever met and coming from him, that means a lot.

GUYS I CAN ALREADY SEE THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS FICS COMING IN miguel wants to see you as nothing more than another enemy, he really wants to, but it's such a difficult task when you're helping people with the money of your robberies and you're looking so good while doing it too. he tried to stop you on multiple occasions, but every time he was about to put an end to your crimes something in his mind made him fail. for now you two will keep playing that cat and mouse game, well, cat and spider game, but one day you'll have to kiss him on the mouth, that'll calm him down.

[sebongica]

sebongica's reading recommendations 💌 (nct edition)

this post contains all of the nct fics i've read since forever. don't forget to like and reblog the fics below to show some love and appreciation for the writers <3

💋 - smut ☁️ - fluff 🧃 - angst 🎧 - absolute fav

dress - primehyuck 💋☁️ (mk)

sunday kind of love - smileysuh ☁️💋 (mk)

claim - smileysuh 💋☁️ (jns)

the v week spy - smileysuh 💋🎧 (jh)

surviving no nut november - domjaehyun 💋🎧 (mk & hc)

when cupids fall - cherryeoniis ☁️ (hc)

one, two, three - cherryeoniis ☁️ (hc)

what's mine is yours - smileyerim ☁️ (mk)

touch me softly - mrkis 💋 (mk)

kiss u right now - domjaehyun 💋☁️ (mk)

quarantine chronicles 2 - domjaehyun 💋☁️🎧 (jns, jh, jw, jm, mk)

play with me - domjaehyun 💋☁️🎧 (mk)

just like magic - starryhyuck 💋🧃🎧 (jh)

sweet nothings - raibebe ☁️🎧 ('00 line)

good girls - starryhyuck 💋🧃🎧 (hc)

falling star - starryhyuck 🧃☁️💋 (hc)

mixtape moans - starryhyuck 💋☁️🎧 (mk)

a sweet bet - 4dtk 💋 (jh)

before i go - yutaholic 🧃☁️💋🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧 (dy)

off the record - tyonfs 💋 (jns)

just us - starryhyuck 💋☁️ (jh)

untitled fav - moonlit-jeno 💋🎧 (hc, jnl, jm)

make a wish 現実に変えていく - sluttyten ☁️💋🧃 (jns)

in front of you - sluttyten 💋 (jh)

hitched - domjaehyun 💋☁️ (jw)

stars & destruction - angelicmark 💋 (mk)

rainy day - moonlit-jeno 💋🎧 ('00 line + mk)

valentine - moonlit-jeno 💋🎧 (jh, jns, jw, dy)

rich purity - jenonctcity 💋☁️ (jnl) (part of the virgin diaries series)

quarantine chronicles 2 - domjaehyun 💋☁️🎧 (jns, jh, jw, jm, mk)

sweet nothings - raibebe ☁️🎧 ('00 line)

cat & mouse - tyonfs ☁️💋🎧 (jm)

love potion - sichengtual ☁️

my first and last - neopuppy 💋☁️🧃🎧 (jnl) [!!!cw!!!]

untitled fav - moonlit-jeno 💋🎧 (hc, jnl, jm)

friends - moonlit-jeno 💋

lucky strike - nctsworld ☁️

10 things i know about you - asthmark ☁️ (jnl)

rainy day - moonlit-jeno 💋🎧 ('00 line + mk)

[aeor-is-for-reccing]

Have some extra time? Want to dive into something deep, or maybe stay up until 5am reading shadowgast fanfiction? Well, this week, we've got thirteen series for you! Check them out underneath the cut, and please comment and kudos if you liked them!

Clock Hands by royalgreen (62504, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Alternate take on canon where Essek and Caleb start a relationship, leading into an alternate Rumblecusp arc

Reccer says: Great pining, sweet fluffy bois, fantastic worldbuilding, and a mystery

Touching Sentiments by Chanse (SpottedEnchants) (239244, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

This slice-of-life, interconnected collection of premises explores, among many things, the concept of Essek as both touch-averse and touch-starved, and how this might affect his relationships with the Mighty Nein.

Reccer says: I love how the author handles Essek's conflicting needs, and his relationship with all of the Nein (especially Caleb). It's so soft.

Wild Magic Surges by literalfuckinggarbage (10385, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Character studies of each wizard turning into a child version of themself through a wild magic surge in Aeor.

Reccer says: They are so sweet and precious as children! And all of the Nein’s voices are perfect

Among the Tattered Ruins by Cardinal_Daughter (33320, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Post canon getting together in Aeor, being domestic/sexy in Caleb’s house and meeting family.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Essek Thelyss' Lingerie Collection by CircaTheKnowledgeable (19490, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek Thelyss is given his first set of lingerie and finds a confidence in it that he has not had in a long time. Caleb loves it too.

Reccer says: Hot!

Shadowgast Omegaverse by firefright (54283, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Omegaverse

alpha!Caleb and omega!Essek fall into a relationship right before the peace talks. This explores that and continues on

Reccer says: It's always wonderful to find a good a/b/o series, and this fits that beautifully

Catch A Falling Star (Critical Role) by RainyDayDecaf (32921, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Graphic Depictions of Violence

The Mighty Nein find more than a Beacon in the sewers of Zadash. They also find a drow wizard and prisoner of war.

Reccer says: Mostly pre-relationship, the slow build is lovely! Heart wrenching at times and amusing at others.

birds of prey by TheKnittingJedi (102785, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

A Scourger!Bren AU that has Bren and Essek playing cat-and-mouse in political intrigue, spy games, and increasingly complicated emotions

Reccer says: I liked it!

the tusk love cinematic universe by kaeda (168202, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

While in Aeor, Essek and Caleb are transported to what seems to be the world of Tusk Love.

Reccer says: Kaeda is able to take such a crack premise and make it deeply compelling and heartwarming

reflections and other illusions of control by atlasarcana (84220, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek and Caleb have bedroom issues and summon an echo. The Echo is from a timeline where Bren remained a Volstrucker. They make things work.

Reccer says: This fic series focuses on relationship dynamics, intimacy, repression, and vulnerability. Caleb's journey into accepting a Dom role has to do with healing from a lot of trauma, and it's wonderful watching him be taught by Bren, who inadvertently is also healing from trauma by doing so. Plus, there's cross-timeline matchmaking for Bren and his own timeline's evil Shadowhand.

Aeor is for Lovers: Prompt Fills by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude (17979, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb in Aeor, their relationship developing over a series of whumpy incidents

Reccer says: For a whump based series, it's surprisingly soft and sweet

Ages Past Ages Hence Cinematic Universe by Athenavine (30355, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Slice of life romance fics that capture the fulness of the love blooming between two wizards in exandria

Reccer says: athenavine really captures the characters voices, and the pace the romance moves at is just delicious. the descriptions are visceral and immersive and the fic updates very reliably and regularly. the series is emotionally compelling and spicy and exciting and it takes place over a span of time that feels like i really get a peek into all the important moments between my two favorite exandrian wizards. 10/10, will scream for anybody to read it, highly reccommend

And then we have two recs for this last one!

Field On Fire (Not the Actual Events) by Defiler_Wyrm (60535, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes, Contains a couple of monsterfucking scenes, but it’s still Shadowgast

From the depths of Aeor to a peace beyond, Caleb and Essek come together and explore their relationship—and each other—thoroughly.

Reccer 1 says: I’m entirely biased, but I like the balance of fluff and smut with a bit of humor and a pinch of angst, and how no two sex scenes are truly the same. Reccer 2 says: Top quality smut, Essek being competent as hell, Caleb being super slutty, I love all of it

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Sports/Athletes AUs! Let's make the noodly wizards move!

[papaver-decervicatus]

Cat/Mouse/Den: Pt. 2, Mus Rusticus

After months of tense flirting and teasing with the mountain of a man she only knows an König, Mouse finds herself in a life-or-death situation while on patrol in the Alps. Maybe her new admiration isn't as one-sided as she thinks…

CW: Obsession, stalking, canon typical violence, intrusive thoughts, unsanitary wound care

Authors Note: Wow! The response to this fic has been incredible, heartwarming, and just baffling to me! I cannot express how happy I am to share this with you all!

Being completely objective, this chapter requires some suspension of disbelief, the circumstance is not totally likely but alas, I am here for fun.

My college classes are starting up soon, so expect slower updates moving forward. As always, please feel free to leave a comment/reblog with a message saying you want to be added to the taglist or just interact in general!

Cura ut Veleas❣️~ Caedis

PREV | Pt. 2, Mus Rusticus | 4.1k words | Mouse POV | NEXT

He’s a vision, he’s hard to miss on the horizon, he stands out like a mountain lion against his fellow men. He sways his hips wide, the trusty Glock Field knife he keeps on his belt shines like a beacon. It’s such an outrageously cocky move, to keep glinting metal on his person when she’s sure he’s supposed to be stealthy. He’s tall as a tree and broad as a train and always has some hood covering his face. He’s sniper candy, he’s so obviously right there it makes her dig blunt nails into her arm in frustration. He’s hard to miss, should be her straight shot. 

But he never is. 

She never gets the barked orders, the confirmation. She’s asked a hundred times. When it’s in the forest, it’s less warfare and more stakeout. She’s not paid enough to know what she’s looking for, but she always sees him. And she’s always been told not to shoot. She stops asking at some point, but like everything else with this man, she doesn’t quite remember when. Her life is a blur of missions and off time and him and nothing else.

It’s been months since the ravine and she’s seen him just about everywhere she’s been. When SpecGru was gathering intel on KorTacs drug affiliations, she saw him in the haunted deserts of Sonora, Mexico where she lies in the dirt redder than blood and coyotes sing her to sleep. She gazes down at him atop crumbling 16th-century Byzantine marble when she picks off the guards of a weapons supplier in Belgrade, Serbia. In the ancient and verdant bamboo forest of Yibin, China, hunting down spy affiliations, she camps across a creek from him for a night. 

It’s a small world, but not quite small enough for her to believe just how they keep running into each other. No matter where she ends up, their eyes always meet. 

The eyes of the apparition with bloody tears on top of an executioner's hood always flick right towards her, even when she’s under a ghillie or some camo or nothing particularly obtrusive at all. She’s even taken off her scope once or twice to reduce glare, to see if the monster still turns her way then. To see if the cat is following a laser pointer she’s unwittingly putting out. 

He does.

Always finds her.

No matter what. 

He would’ve been a good sniper, in another life. If he wasn’t built like the trees she climbs for her shots. 

Very few things are constant in her work. Very few people stay, very few people know. It’s awful, but she starts to hope to see him on the fields. Like he’s some coworker she’s been flirting with in the coffee lounge. 

But he’s not her coworker. Quite the opposite, he’s a soldier on the other side. The enemy. He breaks men’s spines on his knee like toothpicks. He hums with visceral energy, like mud, blood, and guts. He disembowels men like fish. He walks like a monster with three legs (and at some point about three months into their little game, she touches herself thinking about that third leg.) He swings wide, he keeps his knives sharper than cat eyes. 

His stare is constant, glacial, beautiful. 

She wonders what the rest of him looks like, with such a beautiful set of eyes. Beautiful thighs. Beautiful shoulders. He must have some reason for the mask, but she can’t help but think (or hope) he’s a good kisser under there. That his hands must be larger than life, that his skin must be warm. That his teeth must feel good if used in particular places with caution and moderation. 

She’s sure if he ever caught her, the cat would sink his teeth right in. 

She finds she wouldn’t quite mind getting chewed on by him when they accidentally pick up each other’s radio frequencies in the field. They should be encrypted. They shouldn’t be able to, but the cruel stars align and they make their pacts. 

It’s a game of cat and mouse.  They’ve got their own little rules, too. 

They don’t talk about work or positioning, he always knows where she is but never tells anyone on his team. Once she reaches out, he never gets any closer. Like it’s a game. Like they’re playing hide and seek and he knows he opened his eyes too early so he’s closing them again and pinky swearing not to tell. 

He must not tell, because SpecGru has yet to fall into an ambush. So has KorTac, though. If anyone knew they’d have their heads, but no one else does. The secret stays between them and their radios become the divining rods of close encounters. 

Mostly it’s just breathing on each line, mostly it’s just- 

“König?”

“Maus?” 

“Mhm.”

“Hmm.”

And that’s it. And they breathe at the same time, and he looks up at her in the trees or in her towers or wherever she is. And she hopes he’s thinking the same terrible things that she is, and she hopes that he keeps striking out at base camp and bars and wherever just like she has, and she hopes that he’s lonely like she is. That he has nothing else to focus on so she takes all the space in his head like he does hers. 

She knows she should get a shrink or a good fuck to stop fucking thinking about him like this, but sometimes he whispers a joke into his radio and she laughs, and sometimes she tells him about the book she’s been reading, and sometimes he shows her his favorite knife tricks, and sometimes she tells him stories of before she was in the military and he always laughs and asks questions to show he’s actually engaged and he cares and- 

She doesn’t know when she started missing shots. When she started covering his ass the three or so times he didn’t recognize some hostile getting a bit too close for comfort. 

When the fire is heavy and the mission is condensed into a 100th the size of their usual open field rendezvous, she’s seen him in action. He can handle himself, he can more than handle himself.  Some terrible part of her hopes, though, that he is thankful for her. Cover fire from a traitorous Angel in the trees, makes for a good romance novel but a terrible dynamic in war. And that’s what this is, right? It’s war? But what for? 

She doesn’t know. She’s not sure she wants to. So she keeps their little secret and she prays that he stays safe when she really can’t risk covering for him. To that point, though, he does himself no favors. He fights like he can’t get hit. 

When they’re alone he’s the perfect gentleman, he gets no closer than when she reaches out to contact him first. When they’re not, it's a whole different story. He runs into the middle field like if he can just reach her, he can keep her. If he can carry back his conquest, well… kings get their war spoils, don’t they? It’s a terrible secret she keeps alive only in her heart, but she hopes one day he finally will. 

She’d never shoot one of her own, to save his hide. But when it’s one of his own going after his neck, or when one of hers needs cover too, or one of some other guys on him, it’s easy. 

The Mouse saves the King. 

But a game is no fun with only one player. 

The King also saves the Mouse. 

It’s November, it’s somewhere in the Alps. She’s had quite the pleasure of seeing him so in his element, so proud, broad-chested, and covered in the swagger of a mountain as it walks with its own. The snowfall constricts her view but not his movement. He’s practically prancing around like a snow leopard and despite the temperature it’s warming her up a little to think about how happy he looks down there. 

“Are you gonna get me, kitty?” She hums into her radio, lips curling into a saccharine smile, when it’s just them alone in the cold. His eyes find her immediately after she’s made contact. Like always, they breathe in and out at exactly the same time once those terribly fantastic eyes of his meet hers. 

“Haha!” His whole body shakes like an earthquake when he laughs. “No. Just…” he stops for a moment like he’s catching his breath or remembering the right word, “-watching.” He says, hand reaching to his mask, lifting it up just enough so she can see a red, red, mouth and sharp, sharp teeth turning in a cruel, Cheshire Cat smile. He languishes on a stump, playing with his signature knife, downright admiring her from far away. He pulls his mask back down, but the outline of his exhales still turn into clouds in the snow. 

They breathe in tandem. Their hearts must sync. 

Today is unusual because he is actually working at something in his grasp. Usually, his beloved knife is his dancing partner, his muse of movement, the loyal companion of his oversized hands. 

Many times she’s been lost in the beautiful dance of his hands and his knife, as he flicks it up and catches it with ease. Every time he does so, her heart clenches in her all of a sudden seemingly too-small chest as she fears it’ll come down and slice him. She knows how sharp he keeps his many knives, she knows how terribly it would go for him should it ever fall out of its practiced battle dance. The knife, of course, never does. When he gets bored of tossing it, he starts doing little tricks. He balances it on his index finger, he spins it between the fingers on his massive hand, he can even juggle it between his hands without a moment's hesitation. What’s worse, is the whole time he does it, he is watching her with a relaxed posture. Like he’s showing off like he’s saying “Don’t you see how good I can be with my hands? Don’t you want to invite me over? Don’t you ache to know just what I’ll make them do for you?”

This surgical precision never ceases to amaze her because she’s seen him around his comrades. The steady hands she so admires (and yearns to touch her) disappear and shake like leaves the second he has to talk strategy or cover for others outside of immediate battle. He’s a capable soldier, he’s a great commander, he’s an excellent strategist, sure. But he’s never at ease enough to make his knife dance like this, never like he is with her. His hands shake without adrenaline and with the company. 

His hands never shake when the two exist like this, though. No, the shy soldier boy who won’t look anyone in the eye doesn’t exist to her. Like a fairytale, the second the two see each other, he disappears and instead, a man of ferocious devotion finds himself in her sights. He waits for her. He never once gets closer to her than the moment she reaches out to him first. 

It would almost be romantic. If it wasn’t war and she wasn’t herself and he wasn’t himself. 

Her comm line lights up, ripping her away from her inattentive, lovelorn adorations. Apparently, there’s an enemy scout that’s inching treacherously close to her position and slipped past someone further ahead of her. If he gets beneath her, she’s D.O.A in her tree. 

She sees König’s body tense a second after hers, the way she’s come to recognize he’s received a transmission. He stops his idle patrol and puts down the something he was working on in his hands. Quickly, he tucks it into his pocket. He’s ready to hunt all of a sudden, the relaxed air of his body falls away with all the quickness and ferocity of an avalanche. She knows to pity the poor soul on the receiving end of that look in his eyes and-

Is it her this time? Her heart stutters to a stop. 

The snow is picking up, she can’t see much of anything but she sees him blur into motion. Towards her spot. 

“Keep moving and I shoot,” she says to him. In warning. Begging him not to. She’d miss his comfort if he does make her. 

“It’s right under you, Liebling.” His voice rasps through static colder than the snow on the ground. 

She realizes she’s stranded on her branch, there’s a widow’s maker close enough to her perch to mean she’s screwed if she moves too quickly. She doesn’t have enough time to maneuver out of the tree safely and she’s a sitting duck for someone else’s shot, so long as all they’ve got is short range. If it were longer range she’d be dead already. She’s going to fall to her death or get shot at from below. It’s a shame, but she’s a little happy that it’ll be König, her cat, that’ll catch her corpse. 

She sees the would-be assailant on the horizon and she brings her gun to her cheek. He darts frantically between trees, careful to only go far enough that she’ll have to re-aim as he darts out again. He’s gaining a substantial amount of ground as she finally has a good enough line of sight to execute and-

Her gun jams. 

With all the futility of a mouse in a glue trap, she begins to shake and replace everything she can afford to in such little time to make her rifle usable. The man on the forest floor uses all of the seconds she cannot afford to waste as it becomes clear that he will reach her before she can either get down or get her gun unjammed. 

But by the time she’s gone to pray and say her goodbyes in her head while frantically looking around, she hears the footfalls of a desperate man crunching snow and she sees red spill out. 

König’s massive hands cradle one of his very own, dead. She sees the outline of hardwired explosive packs on the corpse’s chest, apparently a suicide bomber? Alone in the Alps? 

For his part, the giant doesn’t seem the least bit displeased with his kill. He wipes his bloody knife on his pant thigh and sheaths it like it’s nothing. He’s got another man’s blood all over his lower half, he sliced that poor bastard clean between his third and fourth ribs.

“Threat eliminated. My position is compromised, I’m moving.” She says to her comm. 

“Rog, Mouse.” Someone in command responds. 

She, very slowly, makes her way down to the carnage near the base of her tree, sniper rifle at her hip like a mother huddles an unruly toddler. When she’s only 12 feet in the air instead of 40, König spreads his arms out to her. It’s snowing. Hard. He doesn’t move, arms outstretched like a tree.

“Maus, I‘ll help you!” He says. 

It’s the first thing he says to her outside of the buzz of the radio. 

It’s her name. Or, the only one he knows her by. 

And the first thing he says is a promise. A promise of help. A promise of aid. 

She shouldn’t trust him. 

She tosses her gun to the pillowy snow, against all safety protocols and everything she’s ever known. He doesn’t move for it. He’s got a rifle of his own, well- not a sniper's rifle, on his back. Maybe he doesn’t need two?

She unhooks her cabling. 

It’s snowing hard. 

She kicks off the tree and into the air. 

It’s snowing really hard and dawn is breaking. 

He does, indeed, catch her. 

He audibly gasps when she lands in his arms. He doesn’t move, she’s much too small and light to move the man. He just holds her. For a moment- in the air. 

“… klein,” he all but whispers and puts her on the ground. His hands don’t start trembling as she expects them to.

She doesn’t know what that means and goes to pick up her gun and makes a quiet mental note to find a German Dictionary or self-teacher or something if this weird romance is gonna keep up. 

“What’s this guy's story?” She motions to the left. Where there’s the stump of a man who should’ve been her death. 

“Traitor, against both sides. Al Qatala. Made off with classified files.” He rolls his shoulders, completely unconcerned. 

It could be a lie. It could’ve been that this man just has a weird obsession with her and couldn’t stand to see her get taken out by someone that wasn’t him. 

Well, if that were the case, why’s she still around? He could just kill her. But then again, couldn’t she have killed him multiple times over? 

She doesn’t think he's lying. He’s affected by some things, not by others. He’s much too jittery and anxious of a man to lie so easily to her. She recognizes she’s putting a terrible amount of trust in the enemy, but if it’s gotta be anyone, she’d rather it be the man who sometimes radios her terrible jokes instead of some stranger. 

But now they’re as face to face as over a foot and a half of height difference will let them be. There’s still the hood on his face which is haunting, but this monster-  he’s scarcely made a move to her that hasn’t been some perverse version of love or care. 

She realizes she’s thankful for him. 

Stockholm syndrome, she decides. Even though this is the first time they’ve been within 80 yards of each other. 

“Thank you.” Is what she says instead, breathless and quiet, almost like she’s sorry she has to say the words out loud. Almost like they’re bad news like she’s telling the kids they have to put the family cat down. 

“Bitte schön,” he says, gentle and warm like a wool blanket. His hands are drumming on his thighs with nervous kinetic energy and he looks intently at where he grabbed her, maybe he’s worried he hurt her? But he’s not trembling. She tries not to think about it, that he’s not trembling. Her face is red and her heart is fast but for all the wrong reasons.

Before they part ways and go back to their little lives on opposite sides of some silly war she’s sure is not worth the human toll, he reaches into his pocket. 

He brings the little thing to his hood and places it right where she reckons his lips are. 

Their breaths puff into billows of smoke. 

They breathe in time. 

It’s bloody from his pant legs when he presents it to her, holding the tiny object in two forefingers and thumbs. She cups her hands in front of her like a child begging the family pet to drop an injured bird it found in the backyard. He drops it just like that pet, a few inches above her hands to avoid bloodying her hands directly. Like it would be a shame. Like he cares about tainting her. 

It’s a piece of light wood, whittled into the shape of a mouse. 

She holds the thing in the palms of her hands and they ache. It is so small, so hard for even her to hold. His field knife, the one he loves so much, is massive but she knows it was the one that he used to make it. She did research one day, trying to discover what sort of blade it was. It's a custom Glock Field Knife, with a near mirror-perfect patina and two whole inches larger than the standard issue. She also thinks he wrapped the handle himself because she cannot find that stark red chord on any seller’s website. It's a monster of a knife, for a monster of a man. It’s not made for woodworking, for whittling, for creation– it's a thing of utter annihilation and destruction. Yet, he changed its nature. He utilized his most favored possession to carve intricately into fallen birch wood. He’s given a second life in the shape of her name to what would rot without his attention. He has created, against all odds, something beautiful and delicate out of a brutal tool and doomed material. For her.

She is dumbstruck by this man. She has no words for him, for herself, she wouldn’t have any for anyone who asked either. Suddenly, the Alps aren’t so cold even though it is verifiably snowing. 

When he turns to go she thinks how much his hands must’ve hurt to make this little thing and she can’t just let him go, not empty-handed. 

“Wait!” She calls to him. 

He stops and looks back at her. She fishes around in her pockets and curses her nearly-frostbitten fingers until she finds it. 

She tosses it to him. 

He opens the little leather pouch and she sees his smile through his eyes as he recognizes what it is. It’s her pocket whetstone, with the crown she doodled onto the leather holder with charcoal. 

Her lucky charm. 

She shouldn’t trust him, she’s really got no reason to. But this man, he’s saved her life. He likes knives more than she does, hell, uses them more than she does. There’s really no reason for her to have it (just like there was no reason for her to put his symbol into the leather.) His glacial eyes melt while looking down at the object and she’s never known the winter wilderness to be so warm. She tries not to think about the way her heart speeds up when his eyes soften looking at the object. 

“I will only use this from now on, Maus.” He says, voice quiet and reverent. Like he holds the keys to his kingdom when he holds the cheap piece of rock. 

“Don’t. It’s- it’s not a great one. Just. My charm.” She shrugs. She wants to say ‘It’s a piece of shit and useless, just like I am. It’ll fuck up your knives. I know you love them. Don’t ruin useful things on my account.’ 

“All the more reason to treasure it.” He replies, simple and unburdened.

God. She wishes he wasn’t so charming. There’s no going back. 

She feels like she’s in his jaws already, totally caught. He seems not to realize that he could march off with her and go anywhere and she’d just let him. He walks away and it genuinely hurts when his form disappears into snow and trees and leaves no trace like he’s a fairy tale. Like he’s not real and never was and cannot be. 

And with that, the King had saved the Mouse. He turned and left and she moved her position before returning to base camp. 

The next time she sees him, about a week later, she sees him sharpening his massive field knife with the tiny whetstone on his comically large thigh, and in response, she thumbs at the wooden effigy in her pocket. They laughed into their radios to each other. Her cheeks flush red. Her thighs clench around nothing. She dreams about those big, big, hands, the ones that cradled her in the air, pinning her down and leaving black and blue bruises all over her hips and thighs. She thinks about that red, red mouth tracing said bruises with a gentle tongue. She thinks about the hands caressing her neck, the mouth kissing the top of her head. The hands, holding her at the hip snug to his massive frame throughout the night. The mouth, hushing her to sleep and promising to be there in the morning. 

She’s got nothing for him, though. Other than her body and the vain, ridiculous, impossible dream that’s enough for him. He doesn’t seem the romantic type. She doesn’t think he’d settle down. She doesn’t know him at all, not really.

But, she does have something for him. The answer to a question from what feels like lifetimes ago. 

“It’s because I’m quiet.” She whispers into her radio, half hoping he won’t pick up. 

“What?” He hums back. 

“Mouse. Because I’m short and quiet in the field.” 

“Really?” He asks back. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” A heartbeat too long of silence passes between them. She chews the inside of her lip to bits, waiting for a response. “Your turn,” she prods gently. 

“Because I am not.” Is his response. 

“Really, that’s it?” She chuckles into her radio. 

He just laughs on the other end. And now she’s really got nothing else to give him, save a rare book recommendation, a laugh in return for his bad jokes, and her sharp eyes always trained on his form in her scope. She’s got nothing to give him that she hasn’t already given him, and nothing he couldn’t just find elsewhere. 

But God, she wants him all the same. 

It’s dangerous to be at war. 

It’s dangerous to play cat and mouse. 

Even more dangerous to fall in love on top of those two. 

taglist!

@kneelingshadowsalomee @sprout-fics @bucca2 @dead-cipher @gallowsjoker @lostagoodcigar 

[brightnote]

My Maria Hill AO3 Fics Masterlist by type

Action heavy Maria focused stories 

A Shot in the Dark 

An former US government leader takes over a rogue a Hydra faction for its technology in order to gain control over the Avengers and sell his technology back to the government. But his plan to capture Tony Stark and hold Pepper Potts hostage to force Tony to assist him goes wildly off the rails when the team mistakenly kidnaps Maria Hill instead. Maria races against time to save an injured Tony Stark and bust them out of secret Hydra holding facility. This fic is heavily inspired by the movie Alien also there are typos I need to go through and fix, but it's an action heavy read with a lot snark!

Boots On the Ground  (unfinished)

Remember when we were told we were getting a spy thriller series where Maria played a “a major role”  and then we got the hot mess that was Secret Invasion and she was in it for six minutes before she was needlessly and personally murdered by Kevin Feige? (I might be exaggerating a little) ANYWAYS here’s a spy thriller Secret Invasion with a tense cat and mouse game, father daughter themes, women fighting sexism, action, and lots of surprises and Blackhill references.

Maria Hill Fics about Relationships and Feelings and maybe some action too.

All The Things We Left Unsaid 

A very depressed post-blip Maria who is devastated by the loss of Natasha imagines a funny and emotional conversation with her. 

What Comes to Light (a sequel to a Shot in the Dark)

Maria navigates a complicated situation between her new found trust with Tony Stark and losing her relationship with Fury all while she tries to push away and end her relationship with Natasha all while Tony and Maria dodge shady FBI agents with ties to their prior captors and Maria is stalked by an escaped ex-hydra agent. Maria gets unexpected help from Jimmy Woo.

The Shadows on the Wall (unfinished) (a follow-up to What Comes to Light and Shot in the Dark)

Pepper and Maria expand their friendship while they silently deal with PTSD from the experience in What Comes to Light. Maria struggles with her identity and sexual orientation as she tests the waters with relationships outside of her on and off again with Natasha all while the Avengers and Maria are baited into a trap. (This one has some 2013 Fanfic vibes lmao sorry)

TY to dailymarvel gifs

Other themes in my work that tend to repeat: Melinda May is always right | Tony Stark is a lovable brat who is awful but hilarious and awesome | Natasha is cool | Pepper is overlooked and undervalued by those around her | Mother daughter bonds | Interrogations | Surprise appearances! | Smart people make mistakes | Action movie and Sigourney Weaver references | Maria confronts her past | fighting sexism | Father daughter relationships | Guilt | Maria has to figure some shit out

[partyanimal167]

Reminiscing- Crocodile x GN!Reader

Here's another addition to my Spy event! I wanted to try writing a bit of a chiller vibe and of course needed to include my favorite warlord here. I've been craving more fics with him

🔷️ The After-Hours Lounge- Crocodile x GN!Reader

cw: flirty banter, fluff, not proofread bc I'm going to work lol

There were the golden years. There were the memories of battles, spats, fights, and triumphs. Who didn't like remembering those times?

Crocodile was a successful man. Many people knew that. He had businesses that vied for his attention, money that never left him without, people always ready to do whatever he needed whenever. He didn't need or want much. Not anymore at least.

There were times, though, that Crocodile wanted to get away. He needed space, a breather from all the demands and luxuries. And he did know where to find it.

There weren't that many spies who could go out and retire from the life of crime-fighting and intense strategizing. Most kept pushing until they were put out of the game--or life. But there were even fewer who decided to stay in the real world instead of disappearing to a personal hideaway to be paranoid of vengeful descendants or hide to silence their night terrors.

But you were different.

You couldn't completely abandon the life, so you found yourself running a late night bar where you could still see the brightness of new recruits and weathered looks of your old peers. It didn't matter who stopped by because this was a place for drinks and story-sharing. It didn't matter if with a friend or foe.

So Crocodile knew he could come by for a drink, and when you were the only one there--sweeping while humming to a tune, he knew it was going to be a good night.

"Crocy," the way you said that stupid nickname with endearment instead of taunting already started the memory wheel for the older man.

You went behind the bar and reached for an aged bottle of cognac which was his favorite. You took out two crystal glasses and gently plopped in the intricate spherical ice. Croco,dile rested his chin on his propped hand--watching you pour the liquid.

"Good evening to you too Flower," he chuckled.

You placed the drink in front of him and leaned forward. "Oh jeez, that name reminds me of when we first met."

Crocodile brought the glass to his lips and grinned. "Ah, when you first tried to kill me, I remember that."

You shrugged as you sipped. "In my defense, you were trying to overtake a country's department of defense."

"It's was a business opportunity." Crocodile half-defended. "But gosh you were so ruthless. I probably could remember that punch if I think about it."

You rolled your eyes. "You had three gunmen on me." you placed your drink down and sighed. "Where have the years gone? That was my first time being told to retreat, you know? I was pretty confident I was going to end your life that night."

Crocodile took out his cigar and snickered. "And I keep telling you there were five gunmen, so it was good they called you back." he took a moment to enjoy his smoke. "We got to play that cat-and-mouse game a few more times over the years."

You nodded as you thought about it. "Yup, and you somehow were able to become a respectable businessman."

"We all have our ambitions when we're young--always wanting more and more." Crocodile explained.

The two of you paused for a moment to enjoy the drinks and listen in on the music being played. There was an odd history between you two. You were definitely enemies at one point, but politics and objectives changed over the years. There were other people for you to track down, and different businesses for Crocodile to draw his attention towards.

"Well," you broke the silence, "did you get what you were looking for?"

Crocodile hummed into his drink. "Now, I have a delicious drink and good company. I think that's all that matters now."

You chuckled as another song started playing. "Oh look at us, reminiscing about the glory days." You refilled his glass just as was nearing empty. "Who would have thought this is where we would have ended up?"

"Life is funny like that. We were so young when we met. We would have betted our lives and lost if someone told us we'd being chatting on a lazy evening like this." Crocodile went on. He took in the swirls and colors of your eyes. "I'm glad it ended up like this."

"Me too." you went around from the bar and held out your hand. "Let's have dance together then. For old time's sake."

Crocodile stood from his seat and put out his cigar. "I thought you'd never ask."

Requests are open, so send them my way. I totally have a bias for Crocodile, but I enjoy others as well so don't be shy~

~~~

Awww, there's just something about going down memory lane that's so sweet and delicate--no matter what age.

[poisoned-pearls]

okay okay, THEIF AU. hear me out

the tweels are mafia implied??? iirc lmao but azul mobster vs jamil viper swiper

jamil is a theif for hire and azuls just a silly mob boss silly guy :3 but jamil gets paid BIG BUCKS one day, to steal from azul. he does and is the ONLY person who has ever succeeded on azul. he gets snapped into this infatuation because he NEEDS jamil by his side.

you know how he tries to get jamil to join octavinelle..? yeah thats him trying to get jamil to be his mob wife. he starts STALKING forums to see who hires jamil and what they want him to steal. he starts showing up to all the places jamil does, even canceling important business meetings in order to see jamil, just to pester him.

"we could rule together, side by side." "i can give you anything you want, all the riches of the world. you wouldn't have to move a finger, with me, if thats what you desired, love." -azul, probably.

and jamil "i just stole important shit from you??" viper is CONFUSED AS HELL because this important guy, isn't doing anything to enact revenge. so he thinks that azul is trying to conn him, to hurt him. he cant imagine that azul would be genuine in his attempts.

so they play cat and mouse. (aka azul follows him on his hires and lets jamil steal his stuff (tweels are ???))

meanwhile, azul has been personally ensuring the safety of jamil, even though zu doesn't know his real identity so he protects him on jobs and stuff. then one day the worst happens and jamil gets knocked unconscious. azul is immediately in action (probably uhh does some erm bad things to the guys who did it tbh!) and takes azul to his base to nurse him back to health and make sure hes not concussed.

when jamil wakes up hes so confused because 1.) where is he? 2.) what happened? 3.) why is his mask still on?

you would assume if you get kidnapped by people who want to hurt you, you would have your identity revealed. in rushes azul, who immediately starts fretting over him. checking his forehead, asking if hes okay etc.

jamil just looks at him and asks "why is my mask on?"

and azuls kinda stumped because, why ask that of all questions. he just says "why, is it hurting you? im sorry, i didnt want to force you to reveal yourself to me."

and jamil just melts because thats the kindest thing hes ever heard (he needs therapy and good friends fr)

(jamil is probably really flexible and agile, moving like a cat while azul is just stiff as a board (its okay hes packing heat))

how dare you put this into my head. I love it. (also how did you know about the mafia fic sitting in my drafts.)

Jamil for the asims forcefully, so Azul IS using his spy just to figure out where he’s going. He’s utterly INFATUATED. He’s full on prepared to see him constantly. He HAS a ring on him whenever to propose before people even realize he likes him.

Azul definitely has him on a list of “you do not hurt these people unless YOU want to be hurt. Badly,” so very few people mess with him on his runs. It almost concerns him.

When Jamil IS like, shot, Azul is going absolutely insane. No one except for his men in that room is safe. If Jamil has to leave with a shot everyone else is leaving with something worse.

He’s fretting over him for DAYS. When they get their doctors to treat the bullet wound he is in that operating room as well. Every single second he has is dedicated to staying by Jamil’s side.

When Jamil wakes up he shoots up immediately, which gets Azul to straighten up too. He’s sitting over in the corner and is immediately like “you’re up! Do you feel okay?- don’t- don’t move your arm it’ll just irritate it- do you want anything? Food, water? I can get you whatever you want.”

“Why is this….” As he gestures to the mask on his face.

“Hm? Does it hurt? I didn’t want to force you to reveal yourself but if you need to take it off I can close my eyes-“

Jamil is like. Beyond suprised. What.

He ends up staying around Azul’s base for a while (Azul is definitely like “oh I just want to make sure they don’t put you back to work when you’re still healing) and he doesn’t realize that he was given the second best room in that place. The only reason he didn’t get the first was because Azul couldn’t clear out his own room in time. But best believe, if Jamil even mentioned something like it Azul would be gone and it would be his.

The entire time Azul is trying to PROVE how happy Jamil could be as his husband. He’s full on courting this man. Everyone in his mob is fucking terrified of messing up around him. Azul’s standards are through the roof so everyone else has to be too.

Azul brings him giant bouquets, expensive accessories, even tailored clothing to his exact size. All of the attendants around the house are told to pay attention to what Jamil wants so he can get it without him even asking. Every time Jamil wants to eat he’s getting expensive food, prepared by their best chefs.

and the entire time Jamil wants to resist, but he just… can’t. Over at the asims he WAS a servant, he didn’t get this kind of treatment, and Azul really wore down his walls the moment he woke up.

Once Jamil has fully recovered though, he doesn’t really want to go back. So one day during dinner he’s just like “I’ll marry you.”

“W-what?”

“I Said, I’ll marry you. You’ve proven your point, I like this. And…. It seems fun to have a mob boss wrapped around my finger.”

Azul’s face is fucking burning alive at that point. (He is however, very much like “and I will gladly stay wrapped-) he pulls the ring out of his pocket and slides it over to him.

“You have this on you?”

“I always do-“

[nataliewritez]

hellooooooo i’m back with another request hehe could i request a lee loid fic where he’s in a tickle fight with anya and winning but yor comes home and anya’s like “mama save me !” and yor comes to save the day hehe thank you🖤

Boo Boo's & Laughter || Spy x Family Tk Fic

A/N: dani, you never seize to make such amazingly cute ideas you sweet pea!! i do hope this fic is to your liking queen!! i'm so glad to have chatted with you slightly and sorry it took so much longer!! (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)♡

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

"Noho! Stay away papaha!" Screamed the pinkette.

The day had gone on as normal, Loid struggling to get Anya to study, per usual. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the 'fun' type, his studying tactics bland for the little girls tastes, so it was obvious why she's complain about this type of work.

Well, that was until Loid had accidentally found out about the great Anya's weakness. He was fed up with her attitude and went to pick her up, only for her to move out the way and get her side squeezes just enough to make the young one shriek. With this newfound information, he decided it'd be the best way to tire her into studying.. that was until it became a complete game of cat and mouse. Embarrassingly enough, the spy found this.. fun? Is that the word? He didn't know, right now that didn't matter, what mattered was catching this troublesome child and getting her into her studies.

With a wrong turn, she had slipped and skid her knee slightly, making her well up with tears, seeing this, Loid's father side came into play as he pulled her into his lap, investigating the knee to see how bad it was (even though they both were overreacting now).

"P-Papa." Whined the smaller, a singular tear streaming down her face, followed suit with a few more, the sight of seeing her hurt physically and mentally hurting him just as much, if not, maybe even worse. "Hey, it's okay, how about I put a bandage on-"

"Can you kiss it better?"

What? What type of question is that? Is she stu- no, she's a child, she doesn't know any better. Loid refused to stoop down any lower, holding up what little pride he is by closing his eye's, "Anya, I can't do- that.." he peeked and eye open, and he instantly regretted it. She looked at him with puppy dog eye's, her bottom lip sticking out, along with sniffles here and there from her crying, ugh.. maybe it wouldn't hurt, he supposed.

"If I kiss it better, will you study?" He asked, not surprised when she shook her head. He sighed and smirked, mischief sparkling in him like never before, "Fine then, I guess the tickle monster will take his toll on you." He wiggled his finger's, his heart tugging at every angle seeing her squeal and squirm in place, her once crackling voice from crying now filled with playful excitement.

And with a new goal in mind, his finger's descended onto her tummy, the corners of his mouth tugging wider as he heard the excited laughter escape her lips, gosh how was she so adorable!?

"EEP! Pa-Pahahahapa! Nohoho! Bahad pahahapa! Bahad!" She playfully scolded, making him snicker slightly, "Oh, I'm the bad one now? Sorry agent Anya, but I've got to put you in your place." He then growled, acting like a 'monster' as he blew a raspberry against her tummy, "AHA! WAHAIT! MAHAHAMA! MAHAMA HEHELP!" She reached out, "Mama won't save you- WOAH-!" Loid squawked as he found himself pinned against the ground. He was so caught up in his game that he didn't even notice Yor came home early.

"Sorry, but.. I have to save agent Anya! It's my duty!" Yor played along. Loid had tried to get up but found himself completely stuck, how much strength did she have!? Yor couldn't helo but pay attention to Anya almost immediately, "Oh my, Anya, you're hurt!" Yor said, worried from the skidded knee. "Papa did it." Anya lied, that damn child! How dare she-

"Eh!? I did not- no!" Loid found himself squirming slightly as he felt Yor scribble against his side, "How rude of you! And while I wasn't around to protect her either?" She playfully scoffed offense, though Loid couldn't help but still be offended. "A punishment must be in order." Yor demanded, now sitting herself comfortable against his lower back, nails skittering against his clothed side's with relative ease, even though he had extra protection and immaculate endurance, he couldn't help himself but feel this get to him rather quickly. He puffed out random splurts of giggles here and there as Yor kept being persistent with the tickling.

What he didn't expect was for Anya to poke at his socked foot, the newly targeted spot making ot even more difficult to hold in, Anya and Yor exchanged glances before smirking down at Loid, making him buck as Yor massaged her palms against the back of his ribs, whilst Anya sat down and scribbled her tiny hands over his foot. If he weren't trained in endurance, he'd be at their mercy right now, yet here he was cackling boisterously into his sleeves, his body quivering from the tingly sensations, ghost tickles making their way up to his stomach and fluttering there like a heap of butterflies with feather like appendages.

"Kitchi-kitchi-koo, honey~" Yor's confidence came in, leaning down and whispering into his ear, making him snort and scrunch up his shoulder's to cover his ear's. "What's wrong? Does this not.. tickle your fancy?" She'd give him an obviously rhetorical question, yet with his state right now, he didn't realize, "Y-YohoHOu ahARE!" He squealed into his sleeves once again, ugh, if Anya weren't behind him right now, he'd be slamming his feet into the ground to try and reduce the ticklish sensations just the slightest bit.

"If it really doesn't tickle, how about you try and het up right now?" She challenged, keeping at her spot. Loid took this literally as he used his forearms to boost him up, only to snort and flop back down when she scribbled into his pits each time he attempted to get up. "KYAHAH! Y-Yo-YOHOR! NOHO! Wahahait, thiHIHIS IHI'sn't fahAhAIr!" His attempts became futile as he just gave in, curling inwards ever so slightly, snorting and squealing each time she'd come back up to scribble under his arm's, before returning to massaging at the back of his ribs.

As his laughter became wheezy and crackled, that's when Yor stopped, "Anya, his had eniugh sweetheart!" She smiled sweetly at the pinkette, the young girl stopping and walking up to pat Loid on the head, "Want to get him a cup of water? He deserves it." Yor said, Anya immediately going off to get that cup of water.

"Sorry if I took it too far!" Yor immediately changed back, her cheeks dusted a bright pink as she muttered apologies, "I'm super sorry, I was just in the moment an-mmph?" Her cheeks couldn't get any redder, her speech cut short when Loid gave her a gentle kiss, his cheeks flushed and his breathing still unsteady along with some random giggles here and there from the tickle attack before. "You're okay, if anything, I, eh.. en-enjoyed it?" He said, making Yor look as if she passed away, "HUH? YOR ARE YO-" "AAA YOU'RE SO CUTE!" She hugged him, smothering his face with kisses, making him chuckle, blush and smile widely, enjoying the affection.

"Mama and papa are flirting."

"ANYA!"

It seems Loid forgot what he was tickling Anya for anyways.

[feraltuxedo]

My favourite short-ish Good Omens fics of 2022

So far I've written about my favourite short and long fics of the year, which you can both find here, but what about those that fall in between? Well, here are some incredible stories I read that were completed in 2022 and are between 10k and 20k words. Buckle up, there are a lot in this category:

Truth or Dare by KannaOphelia E, 12411 words. Canon-compliant through the ages fic detailing the longest game of truth or dare, because why talk about feelings when one can just... you know... beautifully written pining and smut.

Smooth Operator by wyrmy M, 10071 words. Intriguing human AU set in the Cold War, in which Crowley is a spy with a honey trap mission, and Aziraphale is the target. A game of cat and mouse where two people are not quite in control of things.

borrowed trouble by waxing_crescent E, 12181 words. An intriguing urban fantasy setting in which assassin Crowley gets into a spot of trouble. A twisty, fun adventure with a charismatic first-person narration.

is there anybody out there? by theycallmeDernhelm E, 16213 words. Compelling zombie apocalypse AU with all the trimmings of the genre: survival, isolation, loneliness, but also hope and romance, with a good amount of action and two wonderful kid characters.

Easy by mozbee M, 18087 words. Part meet-cute, part character study, all set during one unintentional stay at a hotel, where a casual sexual encounter leads to all sorts of epiphanies and realisations.

Steamed by summerofspock E, 12701 words. Porn connoisseur Aziraphale meets his favourite porn star and they get it on. Simple premise, but very hot smut and I love how sexually confident Aziraphale is in this one.

I Will Choose Free Will by sapphose T, 14031 words. Human Crowley gets a visit from angel Aziraphale, setting in motion a series of events that leads to an existential exploration in one and a crisis of faith in the other. The prose is outstanding.

Search And Rescue by snae_b E, 18854 words. A thrilling tale of romance and adventure set in the stunning and deadly landscape of the Rocky Mountains. I adore how competent cameraman Aziraphale and mountain rescuer Crowley are.

When The Sun Goes Down by TawnyOwl95 E, 15978 words. An exquisite tale of longing and personal freedom, set in an Edwardian manor house. I love a good power imbalance when done right, and this romance between wayward heir Crowley and valet Aziraphale is perfect.

[penny00dreadful]

Cat and Mouse - Spy AU - Part 1

AO3

18th April 2015

Steve pulled the trigger, barely even paying attention as the bullet tore through the head of his target. He was just so ready to go home, god this week had been boring.

His target was some bank executive that had started to funnel funds towards various criminal enterprises, helping those criminal families gain more power and Steve had been contracted to weed that rot out, right at the root.

The Hagans, Kline and Johnson families would probably still find ways to rise up in the ranks but it had been kneecapped now, making things more difficult for them.

They’d never climb to the heights of the Creel Syndicate anyway. 

Steve was pretty sure no one could.

Henry Creel, legendary crime lord that he was, had somehow managed to cultivate a culture of fear and respect amongst even the lowest of street drug dealers.

Not to mention the borderline mythical assassin he was rumoured to have at his side. No one knew who they were, no one even knew if they existed. Some claimed the assassin was just some boogeyman story cooked up by Creel to keep his workers in line and Steve wouldn’t put it past him. The guy was creative.

And some things that had been attributed to this assassin were downright impossible so… They were probably made up.

This mythical boogeyman had some kind of title as well but Steve had never really paid much attention to the rumours and the ghosts floating around the underworld he was a part of.

Lies were practically currency to them so he’d have to see it to believe it.

Whoever ended up working on the Creel case was going to have their fucking work cut out for them.

Holstering his weapon, Steve snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves and he knelt beside his dead mark, slowly leaking blood and brains from the hole at the back of his head.

Steve fished around inside the guy’s pockets, locating his wallet. There was a family photo in there, library card, organ donor card, an obscene amount of credit cards and a loyalty card for the strip club across town.

Since when did strip clubs do loyalty cards?

Whatever. Steve located his driver's licence and pulled it out. 

“Hm.” Steve tilted his head, reading the name from the laminated card. “Sorry, Peter. It’s not personal. It’s just business.”

He tucked the licence back into the guy's wallet, returning it to his pocket.

It only took three minutes for Steve to stage the scene, breaking into the guy's gun safe, planting the weapon just next to his hand, like it had flown out of his grip when he pulled the trigger.

He slipped out into the hallway of the high rise apartment building, removing his gloves and stuffing them into his pocket, pushing his hair back from his face and coming to a stop in front of the elevator.

The doors opened and an elderly lady with a yappy dog gave him the suspicious eye, no doubt not recognising him from this floor but as Steve took a step back with his most charming smile and a gentlemanly gesture, motioning her out of the elevator she smiled back and he knew he was in the clear.

He got back down to the lobby and through the front door, onto the streets with no issue, allowing himself to get lost in the crowd. 

He reached up to his ear, flicking a small switch on the back of his ‘hearing aid’, allowing Robin to hear him, rather than just monitor his location and vitals.

“Okay, I’m out. You can stop looping the cameras.”

“Roger that, dingus.” Robin was probably saluting him right now from behind her desk, sounding like she was speaking in his head. 

It had taken a long time for him to get used to it, hearing Robin, but still being able to hear everything around him at the same time.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Be nicer to me.”

“You say that to me every time, and every time I say no. Job went easy enough?”

“Yeah, practically childsplay.”

Steve kept his eyes open, never quite able to switch the part of his brain off that was waiting for the next hit from around a corner, a knife in the gut or a bullet in the shoulder.

He’d already managed to walk a few blocks, trying to put as much space between himself and his completed job as he could without moving too fast.

The crowd around him was both safety giving and dangerous.

Easy to disappear into but easy for someone to sneak up on him unseen.

Speaking of…

There was a figure shadowing him, had been shadowing him for a few minutes.

It could be nothing.

It could be some guy walking the same route as him.

But it wasn’t.

Every time Steve caught sight of him in his periphery or through the reflection of a store window, the guy had his eyes on him. 

Locked on him, like he couldn’t afford to lose him, but Steve wasn’t worried.

The guy was weedy, probably weighed 140 pounds soaking wet. 

The large leather jacket and the denim vest made him look bulkier than he was and he'd nearly tripped over his own shoelaces twice trying to keep up.

Steve could tell when people were dangerous. It was in the way they held themselves. The way they walked. The way they looked at those around them. How they held their hands at rest.

This guy was none of those things. 

He might dress mean and scary but he was as delicate as a flower petal on the inside, Steve could tell.

So he wasn't exactly worried he was about to be shoved into a black van or choked out. 

At least not this time around.

He was probably just going to be pickpocketed.

He recognised the look on the guy's face. 

Desperate. 

A panicky kind of desperate.

Like if the guy didn’t get some money into his hand immediately, the hounds of hell were gonna be on his ass. Probably break his kneecaps for good measure.

He could just be looking for money for a fix, Steve tried to reason with himself. He certainly had the eye bags, the pale waxy skin, the skinny frame that told that kind of story.

But even from as far away as he was, Steve knew that wasn’t the case. 

Though he couldn’t see him clearly, he could tell his eyes were bright.

Alive and clear and piercing and active.

Not the hazy, cloudy, bloodshot gaze of someone coming down from their high or going through withdrawal.

Steve guessed he was some kind of dealer. 

Street level, considering how he tried to look scary but wasn’t really.

Any higher up than street level and he would have held a certain amount of danger around himself. He would have had to, to survive after all.

So what had made him so desperate and what about Steve had caught his gaze?

Steve glanced down at himself, to his pristine polo, light wash vintage levi’s and spotless sneakers.

Ah. 

Well that would be it. 

Steve looked like he came from money. Especially walking through this part of the city.

And like… the guy’s guess wasn’t wrong.

Steve did come from money. But he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his parents or their money since he was eighteen years old, nine years ago.

Any money Steve had now was his own. Being a spy paid really well, as it turned out.

But the desperation radiating off this guy, even as far back in the crowd as he was, was making him sloppy. A regular civilian would know they were being followed at this stage, never mind Steve Harrington who’d been trained to within an inch of his life for this. 

He could enter a room he’d never been in before and immediately know the most effective route for escape. He could look at a lineup of randomly selected people and know straight away who was the most dangerous in hand to hand combat and who would be most likely to have a weapon on them.

Steve could snap this guy in half over his knee probably without breaking a sweat.

Even still he felt a little bad.

He needed to talk it out. Needed someone to confirm for him he wasn’t going crazy.

"Someone's on my tail, Birdie." Steve muttered, flipping the switch on his hearing aid communicator again.

"Okay,” He could almost picture her nodding. “Gimme a description, I'll see if I can find them."

"No, it’s not an enemy or anything. I don't even think it's something I need to be worried about, honestly. Just some bottom of the totem pole dealer. Nicotine stains on his fingers, cigarette burns on his clothes. And Jesus Christ has he ever even heard of conditioner? And his eyes are huge.”

“Do you think he’s on something?”

“No.” He kept his eyes forward and continued to smoothly weave his way through the crowd. “But he is pale. Gaunt. His denim jacket looks pretty ratty. It’s been repaired multiple times. By hand. And he definitely hasn't eaten in a while. I think he’s probably gonna try to steal my wallet to stop his boss from breaking his legs."

“You don’t think that maybe he’s just hungry?”

Steve shook his head. “No. He looks pretty desperate but not that kind.” He frowned again, almost muttering. “Scared desperate.”

Robin sighed. "Steven."

"What?"

"Don't do it, babe."

"Why shouldn't I help the guy out?” Steve was already pulling his wallet out while ruffling his hair. 

Misdirection. 

“I can part with $20. Stick it in my jacket pocket, loose. Make it just obvious enough and easy to take. What's the big issue?"

"You're a bleeding heart, that's the issue."

"Yeah, well. He clearly needs it more than I do."

"Is he cute?" She asked in a teasing tone, making it clear she thought he wasn’t just a bleeding heart, he was a horny bleeding heart who could be swayed by a pretty face. 

Which…

Didn’t need to be pointed out.

"...No."

"Wow, decorated Special Operative Steven J. Harrington everyone.” He could almost hear her waving her hands around. “Infiltrator, martial combatant and, apparently, a master liar. On his way to recruit another wayward stray."

"Oh, fuck off. Why not spit out my whole government name, that definitely won't put me in danger."

"You're wearing a bone conduction audio transmitting ‘hearing aid’, I'm literally in your head-”

“You’re not in my head, you’re in my cochlea.”

“Which is in your head, dingus. No one can hear me and it's a secure line. You, however, can be overheard so don't sell me down the river."

"Well then, you better be nicer to me."

“Never.”

Something bumped against his elbow and he was suddenly, painfully aware of a body behind him, right up in his space.

He didn’t even think before he lashed out behind him, snatching the figure's wrist in a vice-like grip, spinning the two of them into a nearby alleyway and pinning the stranger against the wall.

“Woah, man.” 

Oh. 

It was just the guy who’d been following him.

He was staring at Steve with wide, deep, brown eyes, shaking his head. 

He looked fucking terrified. 

“I- I don’t want any trouble, I swear.”

Steve took a breath before dropping the guy’s wrist like it had burned him, taking a step back.

The guy's eyes were flicking nervously over Steve’s face, waiting for him to strike probably, before his gaze settled just to the left of Steve’s head.

He was looking at his hearing aid, but Steve pretended not to know that, lifting his hand to his ear in confusion and allowing him to subtly flip the switch off so Robin couldn’t hear anything anymore.

“Try not to fall on his dick.” She muttered at him when she heard the click.

But he could hear her, like always.

Steve rolled his eyes, making sure it was aimed at the guy, acting like his exasperation was because he just noticed the hearing aid.

“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly gonna feel bad because of this?” Steve gestured at it.

The guy shook his head, still plastered up against the wall as though he wanted to melt into it, trying to put even more distance between them.

“Relax, man. I’m not gonna attack you, or whatever.” He crossed his arms over his chest, setting up another barrier between them to try and put the guy at ease.

He didn’t think it was working very well.

The guy in front of him looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. The same height as Steve but built much smaller, slender and delicate looking despite the heavy boots and chains and tattoos Steve could see peeking out under the neck of his shirt and spreading over his hands and fingers.

His hair was a curly nightmare, clearly needing an introduction to some conditioner and probably brushed with a regular hairbrush like a heathen, but aside from that the guy was…

Well, he was gorgeous. 

His mouth was full and plump and parted ever so slightly in fear. His eyes were as huge as Steve thought they were at first glance, deep and brown and warm. His face was slim and soft looking, with laugh lines cutting down on either side of his mouth and a hint of scraggly stubble that was putting Steve in emotional danger.

Steve could probably throw him over his shoulder with ease.

Maybe that wasn’t the most helpful thing to be thinking right now.

“Right, right, yeah.” The guy nodded again. “You’re not gonna attack me. You just dragged me into an alleyway for a friendly chat.”

“And you just stuck your hand in my pocket for completely innocent reasons.”

The guy blinked at him, those big eyes somehow getting bigger before growing mischievous, despite the clear nervousness still radiating off of him.

“You planted it there.”

Steve opened and closed his mouth, his eyebrows high on his head.

“You saw that?”

“Was I not supposed to?” He squeaked, like Steve was gonna kill him just for pointing it out. “It was kind of obvious.”

Interesting. Maybe he’d underestimated him.

“It shouldn’t have been.”

“Really?” The guy gave him a playful grimace. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. I saw it from a mile off.”

Steve’s mouth tugged into a reluctant smile and he ducked his head a little to hide it, leaning back against the opposite wall.

“What’s your name?”

“Wh-” The guy paused, shaking his head, bewildered. “What’s happening right now?”

“I’m asking you your name.”

“Yeah, I got that part sweetheart, but why the hell are you doing that?” 

Sweetheart was sneered out but it still got the colour rising up Steve’s neck.

“I don’t know, to help you chill out a little bit or something. Fuck. I’m sorry I dragged you back here, I think I was just going off of… fight or flight or something.”

“Great, great. You be fight, I’ll be flight.”

Steve couldn’t help the light chuckle that came out at that and was taken momentarily off guard by the small smile it brought to the guy's face. 

Pretty. He’s so fucking pretty.

Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the $20 he’d originally stashed, holding it out between his index and middle finger.

The guy eyed it before flicking his gaze back up to Steve. 

“I don’t know what you’re expecting in exchange for that but I’m not that cheap. Even for a face as nice as yours.”

“What?” Steve scrunching his eyebrows in confusion before realisation dawned on him. “Dude. I’m not asking you to blow me for twenty fucking dollars. Christ.”

The guy hummed, but snatched the bill up anyway. Steve could just make out the word inked across his knuckles, mors. The calluses on the tips of his fingers brushed Steve’s skin, telling a story of years playing a string instrument. 

Based on the position and angle, it could have been guitar or bass, but it could have also been cello or violin. 

The look would suggest guitar or bass but classical instrumentalists were always dark horses, never looking like how they’d be expected to look. 

Steve would need to see his other hand to confirm if there was any healed damage on his thumb, indicating years of holding a bow and to see what he had inked over the fingers there.

Not that he was interested.

He was staring at the guy's hand for too long, the tendons standing proud under his skin and Steve only snapped back to himself when the guy tucked the bill away into his back pocket.

“I would say I have more dignity than that but a blowjob is definitely not the worst thing I’ve ever done in an alleyway. But yeah. Not for twenty dollars.”

Steve could feel the blush rise up higher on his neck and if the expression on the guy's face was anything to go by, it was visible now over the collar of his polo.

“You alright there, sweetheart? You seem a little flustered.”

“Steve.” He supplied, clearing his throat and trying to push the redness back down. “My name is Steve.”

The guy hummed again with a grin. “Think I prefer ‘sweetheart’.”

“And you?”

“I’m partial to ‘baby’ myself.”

Steve uncrossed his arms with a shake of his head, unable to hide his smile while putting his hands on his hips. 

“What’s your name,” he asked, before deciding to add on “baby?” At the end, with a tilt to his head, making his hair fall into his eyes and giving the guy, what Robin called, his puppy dog look.

The guy bit down on his bottom lip, the corner of his mouth ticking up and his eyes seeming to turn darker the longer he paused. “Eddie.”

“Eddie suits you.”

“I should hope so.” Eddie shrugged. “It’s the only name I got.”

“Baby suits you too.”

His eyes travelled up and down Steve’s body, leaving fire in their wake.

“Gotta say sweetheart, this is not how I thought this was gonna go when you grabbed me. Thought you were gonna smash my face in.”

Steve frowned. “I wouldn’t do that.” He dragged his eyes over Eddie again. “Wouldn’t be fair. Guess I was just surprised to feel your hand in my pocket.”

Even though he’d been expecting it, Eddie had managed to sneak up on him, which was not something he was used to.

Eddie’s smile dimmed a little and he sighed, pushing himself off the wall and beginning to wander aimlessly.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, lightly punching at the wall, expending energy. “Sometimes there aren’t a lot of options I guess.”

“Listen. I don’t know what kind of shit you’re wrapped up in but there’s always the option to get out of the game.”

Eddie swept his boot back and forth through the grime and dirt on the ground of the alley, leaving a tiny clearing in his wake. “If only that were true.”

“It can be.”

Eddie shrugged again now backing up towards the mouth of the alley. “Sometimes life doesn’t work out that way.”

Just before he got to the edge where he could disappear around the corner and into the crowd, he paused.

He regarded Steve with a tilted head before stepping forward again and taking Steve’s hand in his, raising it to his lips. 

“See you around, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered into his knuckles before pressing his lips down, gentle and soft.

Steve let the blush take over his face this time, playing up the coy angle just a bit too hard but fixed Eddie with a cocky smirk regardless.

“I certainly hope so, baby.”

He was delighted to see a matching blush across Eddie’s face who exited the alley with a wink and then he was gone.

Steve reached up to his ear and switched his hearing aid back on.

“Oh good,” Robin’s voice came through a little bored, “you’re not dead.”

“No, I am actually dead, my ghost has just possessed the instruments monitoring my vitals to make it look like I’m still alive.”

“That’s alright then.” She sighed. “Less paperwork involved for me if they think you’re still alive.”

Steve hummed in agreement, finally leaving the alley with a quick glance up and down the street but Eddie was well and truly gone.

“So what happened with the guy?”

“We talked a little, I gave him some money and told him to get out of whatever game he’s in.”

He was close to his apartment building, he was surprised to find. 

He’d been an auto pilot, paying more attention to Eddie following him than he had been where he was going.

“That’s it? I would have expected better from Slut Harrington.”

“You’d prefer if I told you the guy fed me his dick?” Steve asked, stopping in front of the entrance to his building and using the subtle biometric security to get in. “Or worse, you’d prefer to listen in? Wow-”

Robin’s screech nearly blew the side of his head open. 

He was glad he had made it into the elevator by then because the shockwaves sent him reeling backwards into the metal walls like he’d been punched.

He heard the ding and the whir of metal as he started moving up towards the top floor.

“Jesus tap dancing Christ, Birdie!”

“You deserved it! I remember Steve! I still remember the last and only time I nearly heard you get your dick into-”

“Then don’t get pissy when I tune you out!”

Robin huffed. “I will never get those sounds out of my head.”

“People would pay good money for those sounds.”

“I’m sure they would but I am not one of them.”

Steve didn’t respond, just let out a heavy sigh as he exited the elevator and crossed the short hallway to get to his door. 

He put his key in his lock and his hand on the handle at the same time, waiting just a second for the scan to complete before he heard the multiple locks and bars in the thick door click open allowing him inside. 

If there was one perk to working a life threatening job that regularly got him injured for a non-governmental international agency resulting in almost no personal life, it was that the pay was really good.

Steve had grown up around money, he was used to it. But that money had been stuffy and came with so many strings attached. This money was his money and he got to do what he wanted with it.

And what he wanted didn’t involve soulless art pieces and ugly as fuck chandeliers just because they were in some magazine that his mother read.

Steve’s space was mismatched. He decorated with pieces he liked the look of, regardless of whether it all ‘went together’. He was the only one living here so he wasn’t going to decorate according to anyone else’s standards. He’d been doing enough of that throughout his life already.

His furniture was vintage or artisan in nature, found in tiny little antique shops hidden away in corners or crafted by small business owners who loved what they did.

The front door led directly into an open plan living/dining/kitchen space. The floor to ceiling windows facing the park had been heavily altered. Thick enough to not let any sound or bullets through and made to obscure the view enough that a person would need to be pressed right up against the glass to see in, even though Steve could see out clear as day.

Steve’s apartment was the go-to venue for any kind of game night, the Super Bowl, playoffs, the World Series, they were all hosted here. His TV and sound system were unparalleled. 

He’d made sure of it. 

The couches were solidly framed but Steve wouldn’t have gotten them if they weren’t also the most comfortable ones he could find. One of them had to be reupholstered and none of them matched but he didn’t care.

Lucas always got pride of place in the middle with Steve while the other sports-heads, Robin and surprisingly El, took up the remaining space at either side of them.

Everyone else was happy to sit along the sidelines, mainly there for the food anyway.

Even all the pots and pans in his kitchen were a hodgepodge of whatever he found. Vintage copper and well aged cast iron lined the walls. 

The only things he’d conceded to buying new were the electrics. 

And then there was all the spy shit.

But that was a given. It was mostly functional stuff, hidden safes and compartments to keep documents and hard drives secure. Multiple concealed pockets and nooks containing a variety of small handheld weapons. The odd button here and there to enable or disable the silent alarm.

And the safe room, hidden behind the bath that only Steve knew how to get into or that it was even there. Robin didn’t know. The higher ups at work didn’t know. Hopper didn’t know. 

Maybe that was just a little too much paranoia, even for him, but paranoia had never steered him wrong before.

“Okay Birdie.” Steve flopped down face first onto his couch. “I am officially clocking out. Will I see you this weekend?”

“If this date goes well, hopefully not.”

“Go get her, tiger. I believe in you.”

“I believe in me too.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They said their goodbyes, Steve hoping against hope that Robin and this new girl worked out. 

She deserved something good in her life. 

He tried to distract himself by making dinner, showering and bingeing that TV show she insisted he had to watch (Ineffable Husbands or whatever it was called) but his mind kept wandering back to big brown eyes and soft plush lips.

Steve rapped the remote against his forehead a few times, trying to drive the thoughts away but they wouldn’t go anywhere.

Robin had jokingly suggested that Steve was going to recruit Eddie into the fold and it wouldn’t be the first time, if it ever did happen. 

Honestly, if it helped pull the guy out of whatever situation he’d gotten himself into, why shouldn’t he?

There were probably a thousand reasons to not drag Eddie into Steve’s dangerous world but just the thought of those eyes and that smile being directed at him again would have Steve doing almost anything.

Part 1 AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

This fic is about 70% complete and is currently clocking in at just under 40k so far. I love this story so much, it has taken over my life in the best way.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of BL fics where Harry - through part or all of a fic - is considered a villain or bad by Louis or some of the other characters. If you enjoy our rec lists, please show support for them by liking and reblogging the post on Tumblr.

Happy reading!

1) Here In The Dark Is Where New Worlds Are Born | Explicit | 7573 words

Harry is a demon and Louis is his eternal mate.

2) The Voice Of Range And Ruin | Explicit | 25470 words

It seemed as if the freshly formed Omega Uprising had always been a step or two ahead of the Commandant and the rest of the reigning Alphanian officials. The idea had been floated that there must be someone working with them from the inside, reporting back to them on the government’s plans so that they could be prepared. That person had yet to be discovered, and the Commandant and his surrounding forces had finally had enough of this game of cat and mouse. Harry understood. He agreed. It needed to come to an end, one way or another.

“Your job is to navigate their landscape and gain entry into their forces. You will pretend to be one of them and gain reliable intel for us. It’s clear that no one else has been capable of doing it, and you at least have some semblance of experience in this field. This has gone on for too long, Harry. Enough is enough.” He made direct eye contact with his son, holding it. “I’m counting on you.”

3) You Say You a Gangsta (That Don’t Impress Me None) | Mature | 31174 words

“I knew you were too perfect, of course you had to be the leader of a Mafia… Of all things, the leader of a Mafia!”

4) A Matter Of Uniforms | Not Rated | 36606 words

In Birmingham, just after the Great War, veteran Harry Shelby leads his gang, the Peaky Blinders, making money from illegal betting and the black market. Inspector Campbell, charged by Winston Churchill to arrest the man, plants Louis Burgess to spy on Harry’s activities.

Soon enough, it becomes hard for the gangster to pretend he’s heartless, and even harder for the spy to pretend he loathes it all.

5) Spoonful Of Sugar | Explicit | 42900 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

6) Yesterday Came Suddenly | Explicit | 48504 words

The one where Harry, the deadliest member of the NYC assassins’ guild, is forced to face a seemingly impossible task in hopes of finally leaving the underground behind for good, but when ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, escaping the darkness becomes that much harder.

7) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared.

Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand.

“Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

8) I Hunger For Your Beautiful Embrace | Explicit | 57333 words

Legatus Harry is governor of Capua and Dominus of his estate. He governs with a firm and harsh rule and has never been known to be soft. That is until Louis comes into his life. A beautiful slave who creeps into Harry’s house and heart.

But in the times of Ancient Rome, when sex, wars, and death are the entertainment of the times, life and love are rare commodities.

9) Where They Glow | Explicit | 70519 words

A Tangled AU where Louis dreams, Harry runs, and the sun prince has been missing for almost nineteen years.

10) Elysian | Mature | 81886 words

Harry is running out of time to fall in love, but with Louis, it seems as if there’s all the time in the world.

11) I Want You So Much (But Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can’t do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor’s certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn’t seem to like him complicates matters, though.

12) Blue Ice | Mature | 102967 words

An AU where Louis finds himself in a marriage he didn’t bargain for.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[noowayybroo]

Unfair (LORD IT's PART 2)

Characters: Albert Wesker + Reader

PART 2!! So fast ik! Only cuz I wrote them at the same time. This is my first fic and it's hugely self indulge so it would be so neat if you could tell me if you like it and / or criticize it or tell me what you wanna read :pleading: anything would be nice!

Warnings: SFW (FOR NOW), next part might not be, Wesker kinda hypnotises you, Kinda wrote this for myself :flushed: , Gender Neutral, Dub con?? Wesker kinda forces you at first but then you don't mind so much??? Guess that's how brainwashing works??? VERY slowburn :/ I write too much. Wesker is a LOT softer cuz I don't like meanies, I'M NEW TO RE so idek when this is set I'll leave that for you to fantasize about

Slowly, he removed his glasses. He seemed to be savouring your fear, your helplessness as if it were a precious memory he'd recollect another day. Before long - there they were, staring back at you. You'd only ever seen Wesker's true eyes in secret photographs you'd taken, or when reading his documents, so the fact that they were red didn't seem to phase you. No, it was how red they were. They seemed to be burning, glowing with rage and pure energy as his cat-like pupils narrowed. He was a predator surveying worthless prey. He was a cat, and you were his mouse, and the game was over; he'd already caught you.

Petrifying fear was bubbling within you as your blood seemed nothing but frozen solid. It felt as though your heart was keeping up a criminally overtime pace just to keep your limbs fuelled. Your own fear and dread were eating you up and before long of staring into Albert's raging, magma-like eyes, your legs gave in. You collapse into a strange mix between a sit and a kneel, but you can't even think about that now. You can't seem to think about much, really, as Wesker follows you to the ground, crouching with practiced ease, and not once breaking precious eye contact.

You're not sure how long you've been looking into the man's eyes, watching as the bright reds and yellows clash and overlap like waves on a shore, fighting for dominance. A huge wave of fear sloshes around your brain when he removes his hand from your chin, yet you find yourself still unable to look away. Your lips tug downwards into a distraught frown and you make out the words "Stop... Please. . . Why?" in-between heavy breaths.

"Why?", Albert coos, almost considering this for himself actually. He had no idea this would work so well, you were his first victim. In a way, bless him, he was so reliveved to not have to kill you. All he had to do now, he thought, was make you forget about everything…. But he supposed there was no harm in having some sick fun with you first. He came to find quickly that he did so love your tormented expression. "I can't have you roaming around, going on about your pathetic daily life harbouring all of this gossip, now can I?"

He pauses, thinking for a while, his hand now on his chin as his brows knit together. "And it would be oh such a shame to make you forget everything… That brain of yours could be of good use to me…", Albert seems to be deep in comprehension, looking away for a while as he pieced things together. If you could keep him distracted with questions like this, you might be able to escape this trance, break free from his control. His head was busy with each possibility. It actually did hurt him a little to think of wiping your mind. You'd worked so hard and risked so much to gather your dirt on him and he himself knew how it felt to have a passion and a goal.

You also would be very useful to him. Maybe he could make you his spy… His slave? Albert shakes his head furiously, before returning his cold, calculating glare to you. He had always respected you and thought that as far as do-good, pathetic humans went, you were quite… Wonderful. Yes, you were a rather agreeable specemin. He didn't want your blood on his hands. However, as he stared into your eyes, your tranced state and tranquil face almost put him under, himself. What if he could have more than that? That was right, his own power over you filled him with this great lust and greed. What if he could have- no. He wanted you. He would have you.

"Listen to me, Y/N.", Wesker's voice is a lot softer now, as if he's trying to relax you somewhat. He pauses to ensure your eyes remain on his, silently demanding your attention as he thinks of what to say next. Meanwhile, his voice, coupled with his hypnotic glowing orbs, does a threateningly good job at distracting you from your fear. "… There's a way out of this that serves both of us." He tempts you, your conscience latching into the thought of evading death. "I'll be safe and you'll be…", a long pause, too long. "… Safe. Doesn't that sound good?". Wesker's brows raise slightly, awaiting a reply.

"…Yes, Albert."

Whilst a large part of you feels apprehensive still, and does not trust the cunning man one bit, the desperate portions of your mind cling to the idea of self-preservation. Perhaps if you pretended to submit, you could trick him and escape somewhere along the line. Thoughts like this were only a small whisper at the back of your mind now as you gazed at him. Your eyelids were heavy, your mind was foggy and your body was numb. You tried in vain to tell yourself you were answering him to stay on his good side, but really…? Would you have a choice at all very soon?

Your eyes dart to his smirk, but he doesn't seem to mind as you take him in. In fact, he takes the time to adjust his hair and fold his glasses, hooking them onto the collar of his jacket. He seemed so pleased, so proud of himself as he eyed you in return like a hunter in awe of his sizeable prey. After a minute or so, he was ready to control you again. "Eyes back to me, please." His nasal voice commands, and before you can even process his words, your eyes are trained on his once more. If you had much more room for thoughts, you'd panic at how obedient you'd become in the span of a few minutes. His next few words, however, fill your head completely. They seem to latch onto your soul, and quickly accommodate any space for rational thought.

"It's alright… Relax. You don't have to think too hard… In fact, you don't have to think at all. Just believe in me, trust in your superior. I doubt you'll be able to regret it…" his words consist of a mix between 'sneer' and 'gentle condolement' and to your shame, this seemed to be just what you'd craved. You still knew Wesker was an evil man, you remembered what he was capable of. He hadn't taken that from you yet, so why did you feel the way you did? You became aware of just how inviting his voice was. Even in its harsh and condescending moments, part of you believed you'd deserved it. You noticed the way you could catch glimpses of his dialated pupils just after he blinked each time before they narrowed again. You noticed the way in which you both drew breath at the same time, and you noticed just how oddly alluring he seemed to be. You wanted to collapse and fall into a deep sleep, and despite everything, wouldn't mind if it were his arms that you fell into.

ok!!!

That's part 2!

And it's all I got right now!

I hope you like it :<

[moliathh]

since we have prototype integra as a nazi soldier under the alias agent barbossa (from the manga Hi and Low by Kohtah Hirano, images from original post) may i propose the idea of major max montana sending integra as one of the forces against alucard (enemies to tragic forbidden lovers from two side of the battlefield ensured)

with the ideas that i have, there are two way to execute this, either integra was sent as a honeytrap like Catherine to Rudolph from my favourite podcast: Dangerously Yours

and if you don't have the time to listen to the whole podcast, this video is a mix between the podcast (a dialogue between Catherine and Rudolph) and TV Girl's song "cigarettes out the window" that you can listen to instead, because this video grasped the romance between these two people perfectly ("cigarettes out the window" is also a very alutegra song so this is simply the perfect mix, and i am pretty sure i had seen at least two alutegra edit based on these dialogues)

the second way to execute this is for integra to put up a male disguise, this is the only way that she can freely interact with alucard without raising suspicion, this way she can work as a double agent with alucard, but even then many double agents was taken down because of homosexual allegations, so they still had to keep the contact minimum, inspired by this fic that described the tension between male agents so well: Smoke in Your Eyes and Stars in Your Heart by victoriousscarf

i love world war inspired stories and how they carried out character development plotline between historical events, but of course these two ideas are non-supernatural AU, and i think the third idea, is a canon-compliant hellsing AU would be so much funnier and more light-hearted, with integra as the only mortal sent against alucard, that got him so intrigued he decided to play cat and mouse with her, and if you want angst, maybe we should still put a chip in her like all the millenium soldiers had, and she is still monitored like suicide squad member, and integra was torned between following orders for her life and saving her loved one, ah i really want them to have a happy ending but with all the scenarios i made up, none of them seems to have a bright path for my favourite vampire/human duo to walk down to. (please anyone with more ideas please TELL ME i am not an expert in spy and double agent media i only watched like one or two movies) also ALSO i will never get over the intimacy of letting your rival know your true name oh my god imagine integra going as agent barbossa and alucard going as dracula, but his real name is vlad, but he let her call him alucard as a joke but then slowly embrace the nickname

big shout out to my favourite duet band with their song about double agent: Days are numbered this is like the main source of insp whenever i think about a spy AU

[coruscantiscribbler]

Musings On Thrawn

Let me begin this by stating up front; Thrawn is a villain. A brilliant, fascinating, charismatic villain, but a villain nonetheless. He is Holmes and Rommel and Moriarty all rolled into one. (Please don’t hate me for this.)

And I’ve tried to keep that front of mind as I have been writing this massive Alexsandr Kallus fic, Especially now that I am into the cat and mouse section where Kallus is spying for the rebels as Fulcrum, but having to interact with Thrawn on an almost daily basis. 

To prepare to write this I reread all the Thrawn books. I even read the first Heir to Empire, and if people thought Thrawn was vile in Rebels he was far worse in that Legends novel. I’ve also been rewatching a number of Rebel’s episodes.

In the books Tim tries very hard not to have Thrawn be as loathsome as Tarkin or Vader and succeeds, but it’s still important to remember he is not a good, kind man. Yes, he tries to limit civilian casualties... when possible, but he won't let the death of innocents stand in the way of a victory. In the end it’s always about the cold equation.

In the Ascendency novels he makes it clear to Admiral Ba’kif that he would have destroyed the planet Sunrise and all of its inhabitants in order to destroy the Grysk threat to the Chiss. And he would have leveled Capital City if Ezra had not capitulated.

He also uses and discards his own troops in the service of tactics and strategy. In Treason he cold bloodily sends a number of Tie pilots to their deaths to verify his theory about the alien’s battle tactics. War for Thrawn is like a giant game of tactica or chess.

I do love the fact that Thrawn was the perfect Chiss to send into Lesser Space to serve in the Empire. While Thrawn, unlike many of his fellow Chiss, is able and willing to work with aliens he comes from a culture that is every bit as bigoted as the high human cult in the Empire. Which is another reason he can so easily slide into serving Palpatine.

Basically, he seems to be a man who has great difficulty forming personal relationships. (To be fair Tim has no choice, but to write books that focus on battles and strategy and political skullduggery and not much on the inner lives of the characters, and it certainly provides fanfic authors a rich playing field. Actually that is one of my complaints about the books. Nobody seems to have any personal attachments. Eli blithely waltzes off to the Ascendancy without a thought for his parents, but I digress). 

So, to lay our Blue Meanie on the coach for a moment....

All of his relationships take the form of mentor to mentee whether it's with Thrass or Ar'alani or Samakro or Che’ri or Faro or Eli. And his emotional reactions to Thrass’ death, or sending away Eli seem very muted. The books do give us a potential reason for this reticence -- the loss of the sister. The fear that he would be hurt again makes him avoid deep relationships and leaves him isolated. 

At his core, I think Thrawn is a man of the mind and not the heart. I think he fears strong emotion, passion because it might cloud his judgement, and open him up to pain again. 

All of which combines to make him a tragic figure. Which really is the best kind of villain. The ones who had the possibility to be heroes, but are brought low by their own fatal flaw.

[tantive404]

Dear Author- May the 4th Exchange 2024

Hello Author! I'm so excited for this exchange, and to see what beautiful work you have in store for me. I just know it will be a delight. Here are some of my ideas, likes, and dislikes to get you inspired! And by the way, treats are very, VERY welcome and loved!

DNW: Explicit sexual content (I'm ok with stuff of that nature being tastefully implied, but no descriptions of genitalia or sex acts. In short, M-rated content is fine, but E is not.) Sequel trilogy content Major Character Death of the requested characters (I'm fine with threats of death and side characters dying, but I want my mains to live.) Mundane/modern AUs For Leia-centric or Tarkin-centric pieces, I'd prefer for the pairings of Han/Leia and Tarkin/TK-421 not to be present.

Likes: Leia whump Angst, hurt/comfort Vader being protective of Leia Arranged/forced marriage Enemies to lovers tropes, villain/heroine ships Kidnapping Political intrigue (lends itself particularly well to Tarkin/Leia) Creepy Tarkin Feisty Leia, with all her sassy banter Skywalker Family Drama (especially when it centers on Leia and Vader's dynamic) Character studies Fake dating trope Soulmate AUs Omegaverse Fantasy AUs Spying/espionage

Character: Leia Organa

Leia has been my absolute favorite character since childhood for so many, many reasons... I adore her bravery in the face of danger, her commitment to her cause, and the unique combination of strength and vulnerability which she portrays. There are so many, many things you can do with her through fic... I really could write and read about her forever!

Fic prompts/ideas: -I love pre-ANH Leia stories, where we see the young reckless senator standing up to the Empire and going on her first missions of espionage for the rebels. Maybe she almost gets caught-- how does she deal with that and manipulate her way out of capture or detection? There's a delicious potential for suspense and drama there! As well as great juicy interactions with Vader and Tarkin... -Leia's relationship to Alderaan-- fond childhood memories, cultural and familial traditions, her drive to protect them from the Empire, and even the tragedy when they are finally lost. This lends itself well to any bittersweet fluff with the Organas and Winter... as well as character studies or coming-of-age tales.

-Anything to do with her capture and torture aboard the Death Star-- I'd love some whump or hurt/comfort related to her interrogation scene, or confrontations with Tarkin and Vader... feel free to combine with the Leia ships listed below.

-Dark Leia AUs are also really fun, as are those where she is discovered by Vader and must deal with the fallout of her heritage. It's a great route for character study and angsty exploration; how does she get to this point and where does she go from there?

Leia Organa/Wilhuff Tarkin

Ah, my twisted little rarepair OTP. The things I would do for them! Leia is the perfect embodiment of the Rebellion's cause, just as Tarkin is the perfect embodiment of the Empire... where she is hope and light, he is tyranny and darkness. They have so much sass and resentment for one another, and I'm sure there were many opportunities for them to butt heads in the time before A New Hope. And then that moment in the Destruction of Alderaan scene where he touches her face. *shivers* Feel free to get dark and creepy with them and to emphasize the power dynamics and their hate for one another. There's a LOT of potential between these two!

Prompts:

-I like to imagine that, pre-ANH, Tarkin may have had a sort of obsession with outing Leia as a rebel. I want to see a game of cat and mouse between the daring spy princess and the wicked governor and how they work to thwart each other.

-Fake dating trope as a conduit for espionage and political intrigue: Leia pretends to be seeing the Grand Moff in order to get information on the Empire's plans... and perhaps deeper feelings begin to blossom. I think Leia could get something out of the push-and-pull dynamic and the challenge of a dangerous and hateful man as the enemy she's trying to take down.

-Tarkin tries to force Leia into a relationship with him so that he can use her as leverage/a hostage against the rebels and their sympathizers.

-Tarkin evacuates the Death Star in time and is determined to get revenge on Leia for the loss of his ultimate weapon... whump and tension ensue.

Honestly, I would be happy just to see these two locked in a room and arguing for hours; any interaction between them makes my heart happy!

Leia Organa & Darth Vader

Vader finding out Leia is his daughter is always a classic fic premise, and one which can be exploited in many ways. Both of these characters are so strong willed and a force to be reckoned with, and watching them play off one another is really entertaining. I love the parallels between them, the way that Leia is unafraid to stand up to this powerful figure, and the angst and drama which their shared bloodline causes.

Prompts:

-"You weren't on any mercy mission this time": something where Leia runs into Vader in the pre-ANH time and narrowly evades his capture.

-Vader kidnaps Leia to raise her as his daughter and Sith apprentice. She resists every step of the way.

-The two of them are forced to work together for a common goal-- perhaps the cause of overthrowing Palpatine. Maybe Vader is compelled to defect to the Rebellion and redeem herself, or maybe Leia finds herself seduced to the dark side of the Force.

Leia Organa/Darth Vader

If there weren't related, I do think that Vader and Leia would make a rather compelling couple, being almost compatible in a certain twisted manner. Both of them are deeply passionate and determined to protect the ones they love, with rather fiery spirits and a commanding presence. There's also the aesthetic of black vs white and the cute height difference, as well as the twisted take on the knight and the princess motif. I can see him getting really protective and possessive of her and being reminded painfully of his dear Padme.

Prompts:

-Through some strange pull of fate, the two are placed in a Force bond. Vader feels a connection to Leia but doesn't know the truth of why and draws entirely wrong conclusions as a result-- (romantic rather than paternal).

-Palpatine arranges that Leia be betrothed to Vader as a manner of subduing the rebels and spiting the Organas and his wayward apprentice in one fell swoop.

-Leia becomes the consort of newly crowned Emperor Vader, as well as his apprentice in the Force, and struggles to come to terms with her new position.

Leia Organa/Wilhuff Tarkin/Darth Vader

A mixture of the above ships... just Leia being caught between the attentions of two powerful Imperial enemies who have competing agendas to possess her, and her efforts to resist them in every way. They can be the worst most dysfunctional love triangle ever.

Leia Organa/Wilhuff Tarkin & Darth Vader

Same as above, but with Vader being aware of his fatherly role and taking a more platonic role in his protections of the Princess.

Prompts: -Leia is raised by Vader as the Imperial princess, and is given to Tarkin in marriage to secure the family bloodline. However she has other plans...

-Vader notices the Grand Moff creeping on the young Senator of Alderaan and, due to some unknown urging of the Force, is determined to protect her.

Jyn Erso/Orson Krennic

A forceful and obstinate rebel girl and an equally forceful and obstinate Imperial officer, both sharing a messy past and a connection to her father. They compel me and I think their sparring would be delicious to watch.

Prompts:

-Jyn and Krennic survive the Battle of Scarif and begin an enemies to lovers arc. Perhaps they are forced into close proximity in order to survive and must learn to rely upon one another.

-Galen takes his family with him back to the Empire, and Jyn grows close to the mysterious man in white.

-Forced marriage where the Ersos are desperate to protect themselves from the Empire and must offer up their daughter as a last resort.

Sabe/Darth Vader

Sabe is an intriguing side character-- the girl who grew up in Padme's shadow, devoting her life to the protection of her Queen. In the time of the Empire, she becomes a rebel spy, and meets Vader in the comics. I think they could make a very entertaining, tragic, and dysfunctional couple, with Vader looking for the shadow of the wife he had lost but eventually falling for someone new, and Sabe trying to come to an understanding of the man her Queen loved and see behind the mask.

Prompts:

-SPY x FAMILY-esque AU where, due to some strange political shenanigans they have to raise the twins together.

-Fake dating or forced marriage

-Sabe tries to assassinate Vader, but it doesn't go as planned.

Character: Winter Celchu

Winter has a lot of fascinating possibilities, being a child of Alderaan and so closely tied to House Organa, acting as the more subtle and gentle half of Leia's fiery spirit. She's also quite intellectual and a cunning rebel agent, which is really fun.

Prompts:

-Something to do with her spy missions for the Rebellion, her ability to slip so easily into different roles and maybe some angst about her true self disappearing because of that.

-Her relationship to Leia... it's said that when they were young the two would swap places and Winter would play as the princess so Leia could run away from her duties or play pranks. I think that could be a fun little story.

-Reunion with Leia after Alderaan's destruction.

Character: Rivoche Tarkin

Rivoche is an obscure character, but she intrigues me. She's the niece of the infamous Grand Moff Tarkin, but holds sympathies for the Rebellion-- even using her position as a socialite to spy for them. I think there are a lot of places she could be taken.

Prompts:

-Something dealing with her relationship to Uncle Wilhuff

-How she becomes involved with the rebels in the first place.