#half of the time i spent working on this was spent internally screaming at how cute they are

[ontosgold]

A scarf long enough for two ✨

[leeloooonfire]

based on this post about Steve's internalized bi-phobia:

Steve has known for years.

And how could he not when Tommy's freckles come back tenfold each spring like a flower peaking it's head through the last layer of snow? Or when Matthew Carver's hair have a reddish brown tone that turns blond after they spent the last days before summer break practising outside and remind Steve of liquid gold? Or when he watches Star Wars and Harrison Ford, rugged and witty, comes into view and twists his stomach in knots? How could he not know?!

Steve knows he finds guys as attractive as girls, known for many, many years. But.

But he can't. Not when Tommy sneers at that boy in their literature class who likes flamboyant clothes and wants to be an actor on Broadway. Not when the people they meet in Indi who are like Robin and Eddie 'fully queer' and talk about people like Steve as if they're traitors and scams. Not when he reads the newspaper and is assaulted by Reagan and his folk preaching about the 'fag pandemic' or how his father nods in approval and mutters 'another sinner gone for good' when the news play on TV and they occasionally mention the crisis that kills people like Robin and Eddie and him.

Like him....

It doesn't matter how much he loves sleeping with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone or that he thinks he'd like to kiss Eddie and hold his hands and wake up beside him until they're old and wrinkly and complain about bad knees.

He is, but he cannot be a queer, half a fairy '50% like me, 50% like Eddie' as Robin jokes.

He will not be a bisexual, he can keep it inside, keep it hidden, buried deep inside him no matter how much it pains him. He can be the straight friend who goes to pride and bakes rainbow cakes and marries a woman even though his heart screams in an ear ringing cacophony, 'Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie!'

This is how his 20s go: loud and hurting and yearning and hiding and more noticeably being disgusted and ashamed of himself for simply being able to love men the way he can love women.

He's 29 when his wife, Becky, leaves him. It's not just Eddie and this shameful secret that weights heavy on their relationship, but the scars and all the other secrets he is unable to explain to her that drive Becky finally away - back to Boston. She leaves him alone in that tiny house they bought three years ago with their Saint Bernard puppy they lovingly named Bernadette.

He's 30 when he goes to a coffee meeting of the bisexual group meeting in Chicago, nearly turning the car multiple times, hands and knees sweaty with fear that they won't want him there. They do want him there, welcome him with open arms, and talk about things Steve knows all too well: 'When I fell in love with the first girl, I ran. I like men just fine, so I hid my crush. It's just easier, when your parents hate gays, when the world is shaming our community, when we're dying.' He finds a second home there, and learns - learns about queerness and bisexuality, about trans and gender non conforming people and physical attraction versus emotional attraction. He learns about his past and present and about his future, about their history and where they want to go, how they want to mold their world to fit people like them into it without the pain and the hiding.

Steve is 33 when he finally comes out to everyone dear to him. To the kids who aren't kids anymore and to Joyce and Hopper, and then his parents. this does not go well, but Steve doesn't want, doesn't need their validation anymore. He has his family, his friends, his support system who love him not regardless of his sexuality but because of it, love him because it's part of him. He comes out to Becky, too and that goes much better. they want to be friends, in the future. She's also met Gary who works the the NY Times and wants her to follow him into the big city. So Steve is looking forward how that goes, their tentative friendship.

He is 34 when Eddie comes back from his latest world tour and wants to take a break to rekindle with his uncle, to write new songs, to take a breather. It's only natural that Eddie moves into Steve's guest room and takes over his space on the couch where he cuddles Bernadette while Steve is in the kitchen and makes them grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner.

Its even more natural when their feet meet while watching a movie and they lean into each other in the kitchen, dawn barely there, while they wait for the coffee maker to finish.

Steve's 35 when Eddie finally kisses him and he kisses back. No hurt, no shame, no guilt gnawing on him, Steve finally allows himself to be with the person he truly wants - regardless of their gender.

[anna-hawk]

The Eggnog Effect

Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader

Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.

WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞

Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays

For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁

Also on AO3

You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise. 

Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree? 

Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.  

Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and… 

“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes. 

Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance. 

“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head. 

“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.

Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either. 

“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want? 

“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression. 

Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm. 

“Where the fuck is it?” 

“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you. 

“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present. 

You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look. 

“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively. 

“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular. 

Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath. 

“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty. 

“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.

You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious. 

“You sure?” you grinned. 

This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here. 

He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes. 

“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug. 

“How… Who…” 

How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick. 

The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?” 

Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if… 

“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.

He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them? 

You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong. 

“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa. 

He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later. 

“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?” 

You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again. 

“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”

“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?” 

You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face. 

“Am I on the naughty list yet?” 

His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face. 

“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on. 

“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was. 

Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly. 

“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”

Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you. 

“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.

He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later. 

One year later

Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off. 

You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties. 

As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen… 

That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up. 

Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit. 

Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up? 

The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles. 

“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in. 

Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you. 

As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.  

Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing. 

Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression. 

“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled. 

Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn’t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year. 

“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”

“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you. 

Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly. 

“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.

“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule. 

“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face. 

Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily. 

“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.” 

You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable. 

“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”

Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal. 

“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him. 

He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster. 

“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor. 

As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him. 

Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come. 

“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word. 

“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.

Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk. 

“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock. 

His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction. 

“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further. 

Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock. 

“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth. 

Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed. 

Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt. 

“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth. 

You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that? 

“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply. 

“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move. 

“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom. 

Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly. 

You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”

Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on. 

“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression. 

Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level. 

“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.” 

Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day. 

“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations. 

Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders. 

While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you. 

Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time. 

“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his. 

He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw. 

“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”

His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling. 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you. 

“But cookies always need – oh fuck!” 

This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him. 

“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again. 

“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?” 

You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!” 

You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face. 

“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”

His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan. 

Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair. 

“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last. 

Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder.  You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up. 

“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms. 

You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration. 

“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face. 

“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble. 

“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged. 

This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him. 

Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him. 

He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.” 

You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking. 

“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast. 

A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes. 

“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off. 

You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…

“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way. 

Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead. 

With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.

One week later. 

Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned. 

Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair. 

A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face. 

“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively. 

Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him. 

“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.” 

“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him. 

[whalesforhands]

shirtless neighbours and exercise (kaizen stroll!)

The first time you meet your neighbours outside the house, you could swear you had to rewire every neuron in your brain in hopes of it ever working again.

“Oho? Gummmiii, look who’s here!” Perched atop the broad shoulders of his snowy-haired father figure, was one of the few resident toddlers of this neighbourhood.

You would’ve been quite glad to see him, really! Such an adorable, sweet little boy with just as charming siblings with endearing traits… And not to mention the total eye candies their parents were.

“Good muscl— Morning!” Your eyes can’t seem to stop trailing down the naked upper half of his body as you sweat, nearly choking on your words and already screaming internally, praying neither of them heard your slip-up as your hand grips the grocery bag ever tighter, face starting to grow hot with embarrassment and shame.

Jeez, stop being so goddamn hor—

“(name).” He purrs back your name in a blissful greeting, smile growing on his face and words rolling off his tongue so sweetly that it almost makes your knees buckle, your eyes stuck on watching his hand going up to his head to push back some sweaty strands of white as you try to avert your eyes for politeness sake. “Out for groceries so early?”

Oh— The slight pant in his sentences evidence of a good workout, the cute kid perched atop his shoulders, his shirtless self just looking so, so hot—! Respond normally, like a normal person, just your average, run-of-the-mill reply…!

However, you don’t think your brain is even going to be able to process anything anymore. Not after this, definitely. You remember seeing stark white, radiant blue and a curious head of spiky black as your senses start to go into overdrive.

Buff, sweaty arms that rippled with power and strength. Slicked back white hair from the obviously tough work-out. A droplet of sweat rolling down a really nice, really defined abdomen that put even the washboards at home to shame, prominent V-lines leading down, down, down…!

You have to snap yourself out of it, stop being such a pervert—!

“Uhm,” He has to bite back a chuckle at the way you’ve just been staring at him like a deer caught in headlights, your face just so cute when admiring him. “Ya okay?” He obviously knows he looks good just from your blatant staring of his body and embarrassed face, the way you’ve just been unable to do nothing but blabber nonsense for the next solid few seconds.

(You’re stroking his ego, despite the strange reception.)

“Ahaha…” Your eyes blink rapidly as you almost stumble forward from forcing yourself back into reality, eyes hurriedly flicking upwards to meet with Megumi’s blue. “Y-yeah! Fine! Just great! Never been bice—Better!” You cough into your fist to clear your throat as well as fight the urge to bury yourself into the ground below you.

“How… About you both?” Good. Perfect. Perfectly normal reply. Good answer! Non-NEET like at all!

A wide grin and a veiny, muscled arm bending to show a thumbs-up as you gulp nervously. “Just got done with some workouts! Doc says Gumi here— Ow, ow! Gumi, I told ya to stop tuggin’ at my hair to get my attention!” A whining of complaint as the shirtless man pats at his son’s leg. “Daddy spent real long tryna get it pretty today!”

Another decisive tug in retaliation.

“What a mean kid I raised…!” He sniffles in mock pain when there’s another pull, patting the leg over his collarbone to signal his defeat as he shifts his weight. “Ow, ow! Okay, okay! I get it, you want your pretty sensei right?”

Ahh… Men who love their kids are so hot… Did he just call you—

“Mn.” Megumi nods his head, black hair swaying with the shift of his cute, chubby face and extending his arms out towards you from his position perched atop the tall, broad shoulders as you continue to try not to implode at the sight of his very shirtless, very sweaty father who was smiling so innocently as he starts to slowly step closer towards you.

Oh… No…

“Sorry honey,” He’s staring up at the little boy as he stands close enough before you, whiffs of strawberry and pine mixed with his sweat starting to invade your nose. “Do you mind helping me to calm him down a little? He gets really fussy, ‘specially on weekends when he can’t see yo—“

Don’t think about it, don’t think about how sexy he looks right now— don’t think about it don’t think don’t think don’t think don’t think—

You feel a warm trail of liquid drip from your nose, catching sight of a matching pair of worried blue eyes, both widened considerably as Gojo’s grin starts to fade, a hand reaching out to cup your chin with Megumi’s face looking as if he was about to cry.

“Oh— Fuck.”

——

It seems that the second time you’re invited to this estate, is to treat a nosebleed of all things…

“Too much to handle, huh?” He’s being gentle as he dabs at your bloody nose, having princess-carried you all the way back to his apartment in a fit of worry, insisting that he’ll take care of you to, ‘fix his mistake’.

(You weren’t sure if he was complimenting himself or not.)

Nonetheless, you’re still experiencing embarrassment you’ve yet to be able to live down for at least the rest of your life. Maybe it’s better to just go into hiding, become a NEET who plays Jujutsu Kaisen all day, max out that INT stat on your character, buy another gift card to top up on more Cursed Points to roll that new clothing gacha—

Ah, who are you kidding? You’d rather just die in a ditch somewhere right now as the Gojo Satoru, father to many of your beloved children, extremely tall, and stupidly charming hunk of a man dabbing blood and snot out of your nose because you lost control of your mind after seeing him sweaty and shirtless.

This is definitely some sort of loser path you would’ve accidentally stumbled into if you were in a dating sim visual novel! Ahh… Whatever god is up there, please don’t be so cruel to you anymore…!

Maybe that was how you ended up on his sofa, one of his kids in your lap and him right next to you, settled comfortably on his sofa as a kiddy anime plays, simply living through the motions. It’s not like you haven’t tried asking to leave.

Your mouth is open as Megumi spoons another scoop of pudding into your mouth, sat comfortably upon your lap as he watches you intently to make sure you’re eating every bite well.

He’s scrutinizing your every movement, blue eyes practically drilling in on your mouth as you start to sweat out of nervousness, making it a point to exaggerate your chewing actions well to sate him.

“Does Daddy get any bites, Gumi?” Said man’s arm rested upon the back of the sofa, brushing against your back and almost looking like it was wrapped around your shoulders. Almost.

(At least he’s got a shirt on…)

“No.” A curt, straight-to-the-point and outright rejection, another spoonful getting carefully pushed up towards your lips as he uses the entirety of his smaller body to shield the precious pudding away from that hungry monster.

“You,” He points the spoon almost menacingly towards the much too big man, blue eyes narrowing behind spiky strands that obscure his face. “Eat too much.”

“Ahhh! So mean!” Said little boy was now being lifted out of your lap, much larger hands lifting him up by his underarms and out of reach from you as he’s held up to the light.

“Even Daddy gets hurt if you don’t feed him! What if I starve to death?!” He’s pouting up at his literal child, the toddler giving him a blank stare despite the vulnerable, adorable position he’s been put in. Even with his puppy-print themed socks hanging midair, the seriousness in his eyes reflecting it all.

“Then di—“

“Is it heavy, Nanako? Papa can carry it—“ The door to the Gojo-Geto estate opens with a chime, waddling twin making her way in, a tin of cocoa mix in her hands as she settles it upon the genkan floor.

“I got it, Papa!” She flexes her arm, patting the soft flesh there. “Nanako’s strong!” She’s gonna be just like her parents, afterall! No time for slacking when it could be used for muscle building!

“Daddy! Gumi! Papa and I are backkkkk!”

She starts to kick off her green sneakers, excited to be able to watch that new anime she’s been waiting for all week, humming as she hears the reusable grocery bags being placed down behind her, eyes catching sight of an unfamiliar pair of shoes.

(And a very familiar scent lingering about.)

No way…! Today, too?! It’s with a squeal that she takes off, shoes flying off and onto the carpeted genkan, leaving a confused Suguru in its wake.

“Nanako! Be careful!”

She bursts into the room with glimmering eyes, grin stretching wide across her cheeks as she practically lunges towards you.

“(NAME)-SENSEI!” You catch her midair, meeting her halfway as you feel her practically throw you back against the couch with her weight, her entire body a force to be reckoned with as you try to hide your gasp of pain at how much her exhilarating acceleration had caused the much too painful impact.

And soon, you had Megumi plopped onto you as well once he had forced his way out of a certain someone’s hold, crawling towards you as a defeated Gojo Satoru played ‘dead’ on the couch, having been defeated by his very own son.

“(name)-senseiiiiiiii~,” She’s whining into your lap, blonde strands rubbing against the fabric of your clothing and her face buried into your chest, squeezing in next to Megumi as they both look up at you with shiny, begging eyes. “Since you’re already hereeee!”

“Stay for dinner again!”

masterlist (this fic is part of my kaizen daycare! series)

Notes:

Due to the new transfer of Itadori Yuuji and Kugisaki Nobara, Megumi has been eating a lot more snacks than usual. His doctor has advised him to take more walks. This has ended up with Gojo Satoru bringing him along when he goes for a jog.

Just like her Daddy, Nanako has developed an oddly strong sense of smell.

Tsumiki takes ballet lessons whilst Mimiko goes for a plushie making seminars for toddlers on weekends.

Once, Megumi offered his Daddy a bite of his pizza bun. He experienced the betrayal of Gojo Satoru’s ‘one bite’ trick.

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t, sensei.” It’s Geto Suguru that’s leaning against the doorframe, cocoa tin tucked under his arm as grocery bags decorate his fingers. “I would appreciate your expertise in cooking again.”

“I second it!” Gojo Satoru is already up and about, foregoing the ‘playing dead’ farce to be a part of this conversation.

“Daddy, Gumi said you’re a liar and a cheat for not playing all the way through!”

“E-eh? I can’t even revive myself momentarily to reply?!”

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 12 - Conviction~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: As you train for Extermination Day, your power intensifies, granting you visions of a dark future. Determined to save those you love, you battle through the Exorcists, facing relentless challenges. Things take a turn mid battle, leading to an unexpected twist of fate.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, slow burn, Rosie is the sweetest, eventual smut, and of course 18+

4.2k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 (You're on it!)

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

When Alastor said you needed to train together, you weren’t entirely sure what he meant. You half expected to just practice fighting each other but the reality was more exhausting. You both felt your abilities expanding, yet you’ve been struggling more than anticipated. It is one thing having to adjust from small needles to heftier daggers, but the focus it takes to stop objects is an entirely different challenge. When you did it at V Tower it was in the heat of the moment, you didn’t have the time to think about it. Now you’ve spent almost three days trying to hone in the new ability with no luck. 

After multiple failures Alastor suggests to up the stakes. “Maybe you need to feel threatened in order to channel the power?” he teases half joking, half serious. Vaggie overhears this and is quick to volunteer, throwing her spear directly at your chest from across the lawn. You reach your hand out but nothing happens. Oh shit. A dark shield surrounds you, making the weapon bounce off and clatter to the ground. You snap your head to Alastor to see his cane omitting green sparks, “How did you do that?!” 

He shrugs, “Quite an interesting development, I suppose.” Charlie runs over excitedly, “If you’re able to cast that over the hotel, it could buy us needed time and protection! What do you think?” The two start to scheme how and when the shield could help against the Exorcists. Within a few tries, he effortlessly produces one large enough to surround the hotel. Feeling utterly defeated, you huff in frustration. I need to focus, I’m no use dead. Why is this so difficult NOW? 

“Must I be the one near death in order for you to do this, dear?” You feel Alastor’s hot breath suddenly breeze across your neck. You scoff and shake your head, “Apparently!” Vaggie enthusiastically picks up her spear again, more than eager to throw it at Alastor but you’re quick to shut her down, “Don’t even think about it! I do not wish to test that theory!!” She pouts and walks away disappointed.

Finally you’re able to get away from the madness. You plop onto the couch in the foyer, leaning your head against the backrest. I just need a few minutes to rest my eyes. The instant your eyes close, you feel your mind slip away from exhaustion. 

Golden blood rains on top of you. Angels, if you can even call them that, fall left and right. Screams of battle fill the air. It seems as though all the training and planning with the rest of the hotel and cannibals is actually working. “Eat shrapnel fuckers!!!” Cherry Bomb releases her grenades into a group of Exorcists. You toss a few angelic steel daggers to finish off a few she missed. “Fuck yeah! Keep it going girl!” she yells over her shoulder. Nifty runs around stabbing the already fallen angels while also collecting your weapons. Carmilla managed to get you a small handful but it was plenty so long as Nifty could return them to you quickly. She hands over the bundle manically laughing, “Stab, Stab, STAB!!!”

Looking up, you see Alastor battling Adam atop the roof. His shadow demons swarm the Exorcist leader making him curse and lose focus. There you go, keep a distance and you’ve got him Al. A smile creeps across your face, amazed by how well Charlie’s plan is working. 

You pivot your focus to a few cannibals in need of healing. The amount of energy it takes to heal so many injuries back to back is draining but not impossible, especially with Alastor close by. As you finish mending a wound on Rosie’s shoulder, a pang hits your chest. 

The neon sign above the hotel flickers as Alastor’s tentacles flail and throw Adam around. A voice thunders overhead, “- Radio is fuckin’ dead!” Adam swings his guitar, slashing Alastor nearly in two. You watch his lifeless body flip over the roof railing and plummet to the ground. 

Any power or sense you usually have of Alastor disappears completely. You stumble over to him, violently heaving from the sickness settling in your stomach, but it’s too late. Even as you cradle his body, kissing him, begging him to wake up, it’s all in vain. This can’t be it. This wasn’t supposed to happen…You hear screams echoing around you. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s your voice filling the air. 

“Hey Toots - Toots! Stop yelling! Come on, snap out of it!” You open your eyes to a very concerned Angel trying to shake you awake. “Kid, you alright?” Husk rests a hand on your shoulder. Your brain catches up and brings you back to the present, regrounding yourself in the lobby of the hotel. You shake your head trying to answer, voice hoarse, “Al - where -” 

“What is going on? Is someone hurt?” Alastor paces through the lobby having heard the commotion. His smile falters seeing the disheveled state you’re in. He rushes to you, unintentionally (or probably intentionally) shoving aside Husk with his cane. He drops to his knees to grab your face, “What is it? What happened?” his voice wavers in a mix of worry and anger. 

You throw your arms around him, making him grunt from how tight your grip is, “Nothing. Just - Just a nightmare.” you whisper into his neck. But was it really a nightmare? Everything was so vivid and clear. It was as surreal as when you dreamt of your life on Earth. It felt real. You let go to sit back on the couch, taking both his hands, “I think the stress and exhaustion is getting to me. Nothing a good night's rest won’t fix.” He nods but his eyes reflect doubt. He knows you all too well by now.

“Really, I’m fine. Let’s get back to training.” You attempt to put on a more confident voice for everyone. Angel and Husk walk away to the bar, mumbling something about the possibility of cracking under pressure. You know it’s far from the truth. You spent years on Earth preparing, training, and enduring the battles of war. It wasn’t a foreign feeling, quite the contrary, it was nice to have some familiarity even under these insane circumstances. But this dream truly felt different. 

Alastor insisted you go to bed early and you happily complied. As soon as your head hits the pillow you’re out. However, the “dream” returns, exactly as before. The raining of blood, Cherry Bomb, Rosie’s injury, and then -

“My dear I’m right here, what’s going on?” he wraps his body around you, pulling you out of your nightmare. Your throat strains once again. A cold sweat covers your body but your blood feels like wildfire. You sit up and brush back your hair, “I - I don’t think this is just a dream anymore Al. This entire time we’ve been training, trying to grow our power together and I think…maybe mine has evolved into seeing flashes of what’s to come. Is that possible?” your chest heaves trying to regain some composure.

He ponders for a moment, “Well it is entirely possible I’d say. The question is, do you receive the visions to change the future or is it foreshadowing the inevitable -” “Don’t say that.” you cut him off sharply. He recoils at your sudden aggression, then softens when he notices your eyes beginning to well up. With a deep sigh, he places a kiss on your temple, “You’re dreaming about Extermination Day, aren’t you?” You remain silent, unable to find the right words without crying. The back of his hand gently brushes your cheek, “You can tell me, my love. It can only help for me to have some insight.” 

Fighting through tears, you tell him every detail of what you’ve been seeing. There had to be a reason you were given the vision, you refuse to believe otherwise. After explaining the dream you begin to ramble, “You can’t fight Adam. He’s too strong. Let me do it or maybe I can join you or maybe we can get Lucifer -” He shakes his head, shushing you, “No - no, the plans have already been put in place. You need to be on the ground to assist the others. Besides, we both know Lucifer will only step in if Charlie is in danger. You’ve given me enough to predict how Adam will fight. I can use that to my advantage and have the upper hand on him. Things will be different.”

You rest against his chest, entwining your fingers with his, “I’ll hold you to that.” you mutter under your breath. He brings the back of your hand to his lips, “Get some rest. We have two days to gather our strength. Should - or rather when - we get through this, we still have the deal with Lucifer to handle.” You nod. The pit in your stomach weighs heavily at the thought that there is still another battle awaiting at the end of all of this, but you try to shake off the feeling, knowing your mind needs to stay clear for the sake of the hotel and your friends. Rule #3 K̵e̷e̴p̴ ̷t̸h̴o̴s̷e̵ ̷y̶o̴u̵ ̶l̴o̷v̶e̴ ̸c̶l̴o̷s̴e̷

In the blink of an eye it was already the eve of Extermination Day. Charlie delivered a more than fitting speech, giving everyone a glimmer of hope. How this charming, sweet, hopeful woman was the daughter of someone like Lucifer, you didn’t know. Maybe it was the fall that jaded him? Maybe the loss of Lilith pushed him over the edge? All you knew is that she radiated a warmth that everyone could feel, even Alastor. 

“Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh, Niffty?" you overhear him from the balcony as you sit at the bar with the other hotel members. Angel grabs your attention with a few pokes to your side, “So, are ya really an Overlord? I thought that line o’ work required you to be a ruthless asshole.”

You take a swig of whiskey and chuckle, “Even in Hell, kindness can get you far, so long as you put your trust in the right people.” A scoff comes from across the bar, “Interesting take considering your choice in men.” Husk grumbles, cocking an eyebrow at you then up to Alastor. You slide your now empty glass over to him as a silent refill request. 

“Last I checked that man and I are the only two saving graces you all have for tomorrow. I know you aren’t friends, but maybe show some appreciation towards his willingness to help. I don’t see Lucifer jumping in on the front line.” You bite harsher than intended. There is a part of you that harbored pity for Husk. Going from a prestigious Overlord to nothing but a pet had to come with its share of personal demons. You try not to take his bitterness to heart.  He growls as he slides back a filled glass, “I had a feeling there was more to you than you let on. Al wouldn’t take an interest in just anyone.” “Oh I think he has more than just interest in our friend here. Heard her screaming his name from down the hall yesterday!” Angel jeers but the grimace on your face erases his smile. You stare vacantly into your glass remembering the night before, the blood, the screams, Alastor’s limp, lifeless body. “Hey dollface lighten up! I’m just giving yous a hard time. What ya do in the bedroom is -” “That’s not the reason I was screaming last night.” you say abruptly. Husk and Angel share a brief look of concern. “I’ve been having nightmares about tomorrow. Every single one ends the same and every time I wake up yelling out for him.” you throw back your drink and slam it against the bar. They continue to stare, speechless, while you stand to shimmy on your jacket. “We will make it through tomorrow, I promise.” Rule #2 D̷o̸n̷’̷t̵ ̴b̸e̶ ̸a̸f̴r̸a̶i̴d̵ ̶t̵o̶ ̸s̷h̶o̵w̸ ̴y̸o̶u̷r̴ ̴p̵o̴w̵e̵r̶ With a grim smile you walk out of the lobby, needing a walk and some fresh air. 

You only make it a few steps from the door when a voice calls out to you. Turning, you see Rosie sitting on a bench out front. Though you’d never formally met the woman you recognize her immediately from the Overlord meetings. She waves you over and motions for you to take a seat, “Ya know when Alastor came to me saying he fancied someone, I knew they had to be something quite special. He didn’t mention, however, what an absolute gem you are!” You share a bashful giggle. Alastor has talked about Rosie a few times in the past, always alluding to her being one of his closest friends since arriving in Hell.

“Thank you Miss Rosie. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We all truly appreciate your assistance with the cannibals. Will you be joining us tomorrow?” You make conversational pleasantries, as if you didn’t already know the answer. “Oh, of course! Though I might be more on the sidelines. The townspeople can get pretty rambunctious when given free reign.” Her sweet demeanor radiates much like Charlie’s. Even with the darkest thoughts spiraling behind your eyes, you can’t help but smile hearing her enthusiasm. 

A question pops into your mind. If anyone knows Alastor and his past, it’s Rosie. You look around to ensure no other ears are around, dropping your voice so it doesn’t carry, “Miss Rosie may I ask an unusual question? It’s regarding Alastor.” 

Her black eyes widen with curiosity, “Well of course darlin’. Anything at all! What’s on your mind?” You take a deep breath and focus nervously on your hands resting in your lap. “I know about his deal and I know about Lilith. Did he ever…have any feelings towards her? Or rather made her think he did in an attempt to sway her in some way?” As soon as the question leaves your mouth, a twist of regret and embarrassment sets in. Here you are, the night before possibly losing the most important people in your (after)life, and you’re asking mundane things like this. I’m so stupid…

“Oh my -” she sits back, taken off guard by such an inquisition. There’s a tense silence for a few moments which only makes your heart sink deeper in anticipation. A small smile returns to her face after having collected her thoughts, “Alastor has done a lot to get to where he is today. You’re aware of that I’m sure. When he spoke of Lilith and his plans, there was always something more sinister behind that smile of his. He only became truly passionate when he mentioned the power he would obtain and the possibility of being more than just an Overlord.” 

She sets a light hand on your shoulder. You turn to meet her gaze and her voice softens, “But in all my years of knowing Alastor, I’ve never seen him so smitten when talking about someone. I see how his eyes follow you around here. He holds the look of a man willing to set both Heaven and Hell ablaze for you. Does that help answer your question?” 

A warmth builds in your chest, you smile and nod through a few tears of happiness, “I think it does. Thank you.” Rule #1 B̶e̸ ̷o̵p̶e̶n̶ ̶t̷o̶ ̷t̴r̸u̸s̸t̵,̶ ̷b̸u̵t̴ ̶n̵e̵v̷e̸r̷ ̷d̶o̵ ̶s̴o̷ ̴b̶l̷i̴n̵d̴l̷y̶ You pat her hand still atop your shoulder. She takes your hand, fiddling with the few rings you have on, “You share something so special with him. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two.” She glances behind you and lights up, “Speak of the handsome demon - Alastor, dearie, how are you this evening!?” she waves at him while you try to brush away the tears without him noticing. “Ah, marvelous as always, my dear. I see you’ve already acquainted yourself with my darling other half?” his smile widens as he sets a possessive hand to your back.“Yes and she is just a doll! It’s almost unbelievable such a gal would become entangled with the likes of you!” Rosie teases playfully. She pats your arm and stands, “Such a pleasure to finally meet you, but it is getting late. I’m off to rest up for tomorrow. Have a wonderful evening you two.” She gives a quick kiss to Alastor's cheek, mumbling something to him before gliding gracefully into the hotel. Alastor slides in beside you on the bench, crossing his legs and wrapping an arm around you. “Good company is never hard to find with Rosie.” he sighs contently, “How are you feeling, dear?” You snuggle closer and lean your head against his chest, “As good as I can I suppose.” He hums agreeingly. A comfortable silence falls between you. The closer he is, the more at ease you always feel. In the quiet of the evening an idea stirs. 

“I’ve been thinking Al…I know your contract limits your power. Maybe for the sake of tomorrow, we can try to break it before the fight?” His fingers tighten against your skin, “Absolutely not.” he answers sternly. You pull away, surprised by the brunt response, “But - it could be just what we need to -” He raises a hand and cuts you off, “I said no. We don’t know what predicaments that can cause.” A small pout makes your lip quiver. I only want what’s best for him. If it would help, I’d be more than willing to take that chance. His finger hooks under your chin to pull you closer, “I appreciate your sentiments dear but you will need to trust me on this. Everything will be handled in due time.” he whispers above your lips before closing the space. 

What starts as a soft peck swells into something more passionate. His hands smooth down to your waist and he presses into you hungrily. You return his intensity, threading your fingers through his hair. After a few moments you break away, breathless, “Don’t do that.” “Do what?” he pants through a smug smile. Your finger glides across his lower lip as your eyes burn into his, “Don’t kiss me as if it’s our last.” His toothy grin spreads under half-lidded eyes, “Of course it’s not! Though after tomorrow, I hope you know we will not be leaving our room for a few days. The heat of battle just might awaken something more between us.” he growls into your ear while his fingers tease the hem of your shirt. You giggle and push him away, “Let’s just try to get through the next twenty-four hours, shall we?” 

He chuckles, offering his hand, “As you wish. Off to bed then?” You take his hand and within a second you’re back in your room. Only a few hours of rest before battle, something that felt all too familiar. Your entire future in Hell relies on what happens tomorrow. You try to hold onto any bit of sheer hope as you relax against Alastor’s chest and drift off. Rule #4 T̷u̵r̷n̸ ̸y̵o̶u̵r̴ ̶w̵e̴a̶k̸n̸e̶s̶s̶ ̴i̷n̶t̷o̶ ̴s̴t̵r̵e̴n̵g̸t̷h̵

Everyone stands outside the hotel, weapons in hand. As Heaven opens up, Alastor’s shield forms around the perimeter. Only a few Exorcists make it through and they’re easily disposed of. “It’s working!” Charlie exclaims excitedly. 

Just when you think the last of the Exorcists are dealt with, Adam’s fist shatters the entirety of the shield. Shit - ready or not Al, here he comes. You continue to fight alongside the others, using your daggers in between healing some of the more vulnerable cannibals. Then it begins. 

Golden blood begins to drop from the sky. Cherry Bomb. Nifty. Your chest pounds reliving the very nightmare you’ve watched unfold multiple times. A shout of pain brings you out of your horror filled haze. You watch an Exorcist throw a spear into Rosie, luckily only hitting her shoulder. You swiftly toss a few daggers to drop the Angel and grab ahold of the Cannibal Overlord. 

“Miss Rosie, I got you.” You press a kiss to her hand, flinching slightly from the pain radiating through your shoulder. Her expression is both shocked and impressed, “Handy little thing aren’t ya? Thank you, dear!” She lovingly pats your face then begins tearing apart the Angel on the ground. 

The flickering of the neon above you makes your heart drop. You freeze, watching the battle on the roof. All the air leaves your lungs as Adam swings, only instead of hitting Alastor, you hear a metallic snap followed by a wail of pain. Fuck fuck fuck I need to get to him. As you rush towards the building a black shadow slides up your legs, holding you in place. “No! Let me go!” you scream to the ground.

An eerie silence falls over the battlefield. Charlie runs over and clings to you, “Please…it’s Pentious…tell me you can do something!?” She starts to sob into your shoulder, “Please…Adam zapped him and the Egg Bois…” she whimpers. You look around but don’t see them anywhere, “Charlie, I’m sorry. I can only heal what I can see and touch…I - I can’t bring back the dead…”

She screams out, transforming into her demon form and taking off on Razzle towards Adam. You remain held down by Alastor’s shadows. “Take me to him now!” you beg the shadow attached to your legs. Your pleas go ignored. Enraged, your hand begins to glow, “GET OFF!” you scream as your power pushes the shadowy fingers off your legs. Finally free, you continue towards the hotel. Before you hit the door a large blast rips through the center of the building, making the walls crumble around you. The shadows once again flood around your feet but this time the world around you fades out. Your body swims through darkness. In the past you’ve always been sent straight to another location. This time, however, he holds you within the shadows. 

After who knows how long, the world begins to fade in again. The demolished remains of Alastor’s tower surround you, clouded by dust and smoke. Being held in the shadow state for so long felt like being on a ship in a storm. You stumble to your knees trying to regain your balance. “Alastor?” You call out, coughing from the thick air. 

Pained grunts can be heard to your right. You stagger over and find Alastor sitting up against a broken beam. Blood gushes from a wound across his chest, “Damnit…” You mumble, straddling his legs to get a better look at the gash and keep him still. “Don’t!” He snaps as your hands run across his chest. 

You sit back on your heels with a puzzled look, “Don’t what? Heal you? Are you stupid? You’re going to bleed out!” You place your hands on his shoulders, pinning him in place, “Hold still, I can -” “I said don’t!” he shoves your body to the side and shuffles away from your reach. You freeze watching the blood continue to drip down his body. “I should have had him. He was weak!” he huffs angrily through the pain. “At least if this kills me, we won’t have to worry about Lucifer’s deal.” 

“Not funny.” you whisper, slowly crawling back towards him. He holds a hand out in protest, “You’re already weakened from healing the others. I don’t want to risk what this could do to you!” you ignore his resistance and continue to climb over him. Your legs cage him in and your hands gently press his body to the floor by his shoulders. His eyes flicker between red and black as he pants under you. 

“Please, my love, this is not your pain to bear. You’re not strong enough. Not after everything -” he pleads weakly through a raspy voice. His eyes begin to glaze over and his smile fades. You cup his cheek, grinning through teary eyes, “There was only ever one choice when it came to the deal with Lucifer. I love you, and I’d die a thousand times more if it meant saving you.” 

Before he can respond, your lips crash into his. He captures your screams of pain with his mouth. You feel his arms wrap around your writhing body as a hot white fire burns across every fiber of your being. You peek through blurred vision long enough to see a single teardrop fall from his eyes. 

He breaks the embrace and sits up to cradle you, “You stupid, stubborn, beautiful woman…” he coos while brushing the hair away from your sweat soaked face. You spasm in his arms, the fire still tearing through you, gasping for any air your lungs can contain. Your eyes start to roll back and he shakes you gently to keep you awake, voice wavering, “No, you don’t get to leave me now. There’s too much we still need to do.” 

Through the blinding pain, you feel him slip something onto your finger. He leans down and kisses your forehead. “I choose to never live without you.” He breathes against your skin. You can almost make out a bright glow of pink and green growing around you before your vision fades and your body goes limp in his arms. 

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[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

80s Batman has a certain charm that I think we lost, he’s just perplexed and annoyed that everyone likes Bruce better than Batman.

he spent freaking YEARS training and learning criminology and forensic sciences and getting way too many certifications in everything just for him being his normal self to be more than enough.

He’s just straight pissed, and it’s SO FUNNY.

also I like how 80s Batman is like way kinder than modern Batman, there was this guy Tommy who straight up impersonated Batman and thought he was Batman he was having a hard ass time, and despite all that he actually went pretty easy on him and made sure he didn’t continue to SNAP PEOPLES NECKS, tbh they were like murders and shit, but BRO SNAPPED THEIR NECKS.. AS BATMAN!

he made sure he was going to get proper help and arranged like proper representation and shit for him as well, and everyone again was like “omg! Bruce Wayne your awesome not like Batman who’s a dickhead and awful and should be in jail!”

he screams internally. Like literally internally he’s screaming he’s SO PISSED.

I like really love these ones, it’s post crisis mostly and well I have 0 want to read much stuff pre-crisis. I’ll get there!

Though, flying Todd’s Jason is still pretty cute. He’s so cute.

Bruce just being a more important part of the storyline and not him just being well a recluse is actually really fun.

Bruce and Gordon team up, Bruce is actively working with Vicki vale.

idk I like it honestly, Jason is so cute tho. He’s a little shit, but like he’s a studious guy he asks things with wonder and admiration, Jason is like “omg actual parental love and care and he doesn’t hate me and Alfred feeds me many sandwiches”

Though like, having the stories be half Bruce Wayne and half Batman is actually way better, I like how Bruce actually has a social life in these comics lol.

Jason really is such a sweetheart I can’t believe people hated him! He’s LITERALLY such a good character, he’s like 12 let him be a kid.

[fantisyoflove]

Snape's First Year of Teaching [Part 5 FINAL]

[Imagine from pintrest, if you know the artist please tag them!]

⚠️ as per usual , death, mentions of death, and death eater attacks ⚠️

Chapter word count: 6571

Total work word count: 24,244

That is how the following month went for you. You started bringing Severus around your father and his 'friends' more often. During the holiday break you spent the whole time at the Malfoy Manor.

You watched from across the room as Severus made the dark lord laugh. Tom threw his head back and cackled, he had just started looking more and more ... grey over the weeks.

Back at school you taught Severus how to steel his emotions and to use his powers more subtly. When he spent the weekends with you you had the most vivid dreams of him. What he did to you in those dreams made your toes curl. It also made you internally scream once you woke, always wanting for more.

During the lessons you had to admit he was actually becoming quite powerful and had even managed to break through your wall at one point. You played it off but deep down it scared you. You knew your unbreakable vow to Dumbledore forbid you from speaking about your plans but you didn't know how that would work if Severus saw something about it in your mind...

You brought this up to Dumbledore the next time you saw him.

"Miss Burke, I can understand you concern, but you needn't worry much longer. I foresee Severus becoming very busy before the year is up."

You weren't exactly sure what that meant but you knew the dark lord was close to doing whatever it was that he had planned. He only needed to take care of one minor detail. He was looking for them, the Potters, he believed their son was the key to his success.

You didn't understand how an infant impeded his plans but trying to talk about it with Severus made him shut down entirely. You were terrified of what the dark lord could have done to make Severus so afraid.

School was coming to an end and the disappearances had ramped up. Whole families could be wiped off the face of the Earth in a day. Owls came constantly, always with bad news.

Soon Muggle born students were leaving the school early. Their parents going into hiding to try and stay safe. Even some half blood families showed up and took their children away. It was dark times. You worried for the safety of all your students and fellow staff members.

You leaked information that needed to be leaked. You passed on information true and false. Left and right you treaded carefully unsure of who you could trust, worried that your current perceived loyalties would get you attacked by the very side you truly fought for, and weather or not you would be found a fraud by the side you dwelled so deeply in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laying in bed with Severus his finger lightly traced up and down your leg. The windows were cracked open slightly to let the cool breeze in but it was drizzling outside. You had on a tank top and shorts and Severus was in his usual long sleeves and full length pants.

You noticed he didn't even roll his sleeves up anymore, not since he got the dark lords mark on his arm. You really liked when he rolled his sleeves up while making potions or cooking, the flex in his forearm always took your breath away and now you didn't even get to enjoy that!

"Severus?"

"hmm? yes darling?"

You pressed your thighs together, his sleepy voice sending shivers down your spine. No amount of self satisfaction could replace the feelings you felt in your dreams. If that ever happens for real you hope it feels just like that.

"I want to have sex with you."

Severus was fully awake now. "What?!" he sat up making you sit up too.

"I want to see you naked. I want to have sex with you. You've seen me naked... I think it's only fair if I get to see you too."

Severus's mouth opened and shut like a fish, he didn't know where to look.

"You don't want to see me... like that" he said settling for looking at his hands as they bunched and unbunched the blankets over and over.

"I do!" You cup his cheeks and try to get him to look at you. "Please Sev, I want to be close to you. We don't know what the future holds for us right now and I just want to know that I got to be with you at least once before I die." Severus flinched at the word die.

"You arn't going die!" He snapped.

"You don't know that!" You snap back.

Severus looks back at his hands. No, he doesn't know that. He doesn't even know if you will still want to be with him knowing the truth. He doesn't want to lose you but he doesn't see this ending well for either of you. He thought it best that he didn't sleep with you, he didn't want to make you have any more feelings for him than you already did.

If you hadn't been so easy to love, so giving to him, so attentive and understanding, he doesn't think he would even be able to put up with you long enough to see this mission through.

"Severus," you whine. You kiss him, then kiss his cheeks, then his neck, in that sensitive spot that makes his breath catch every time. Severus's head lolls to the side, enjoying the affection. You nuzzle his neck letting your quickening breath brush his ear.

You palm the crotch of his pants and feel him stiffen beneath your fingers.

"Let me at least taste it?" That got his attention.

"Yo..you.. you wanna suck on my..." You sat up on your knees, both hands resting on his thighs, you smile and nod eagerly.

"I um.. well you... we can't... I .. I um" he was stuttering and fumbling and you watched him for awhile.

"Can you look in my mind for a minute?" You ask slidding your hands up his thighs a little higher.

Severus shakes his head yes and you feel his now familiar cloud of smoke hesitantly enter your mind. You mentally curl yourself around him and pull him towards a set of memories. Plunging head first you show him every dream you've had of him over the past few months.

Severus saw you two tangled together on the bed. He watched himself fuck you soft and slow and then rough and fast. He saw himself eating you out and the look on your face as he did so. He heard your moans, the way you cried out his name, and how you begged for him.

For a brief moment he saw you tied up in various ways, then a series of dreams involving toys, and then of there being two of him at the same time with you. His eyebrows shot up, he couldn't even imagine himself doing some of these acts, but he couldn't deny the way it all made his cock achingly hard.

Finally he saw the two of you, lying in bed, red faced and sweaty. He watched as you leaned over and kissed his dream self. You both sigh in content.

The real you guides him out of your head. Severus opens his eyes to see you staring at him.

"Well... what do you think?" You ask

"I want you to take off your pants," he said, his voice shaking.

"Also," he waved his wand and all the windows shut, the curtains were drawn, and all the candles had been snuffed out. Leaving you in a soft dim lit room. He waved his wand again and it was next to pitch black dark. "I don't want you to see me"

"Severus... I want to see you. I want to look at your body."

"No, I can't, I'm not comfortable ...."

"Okay, okay. Severus it's okay" you reach for him and rub soothing circles into his wrists. "You'll let me see when your ready." You give his wrists a squeeze and he squeezes your arms back.

You lean in to kiss him accidently bonking your head on his nose. "Okay maybe a little more light " he hisses and a soft glow enters the room. Now you can make out a rough outline of everything like when you wake up in the dark and can kinda see around you.

You give his nose a little kiss and then move down his neck. Straddling his waist you grind your hips into him. His cock is straining against his pants.

"Allow me" you say and wave your wand to vanish both of your clothes. You both gasp at the sudden chill of the room and the warmth of your full bodies touching together.

Severus feels your wet heat against his thighs, his cock twitches against his stomach.

You climb off of him and then off the bed. Holding out your hand you help pull him to his feet. Kissing down his chest you hear the sudden gasp, Severus hissing as you neared his cock. You licked down the length of it once and felt his knees buckle slightly as a moan parted his lips.

You licked it again on the side and then the other side. You then swirled your tongue around the tip of it. You noticed he shuttered slightly when your tongue brushed along the underside of his cock head. You focused your attention there and had him twitching soon after. His hand rested on your shoulder now the other gripped the headboard of the bed.

You took the whole tip in your mouth and sucked. Severus's hips bucked into your mouth, shoving his cock deeper down your throat. The feel making his moan more. You Bob your head up and down on his cock. Your pattern of Bob, Bob, Bob, swirl your tongue around the tip, Bob, Bob, Bob again had him squeezing the headboard trying not to fuck into your mouth. His hand on your shoulder moved into your hair. His fingers were light his nails scratching gently at your scalp.

Suddenly he held your head in place for a beat before pulling out completely.

"If you keep doing that I am going to cum" Severus panted.

"Well good that was my goal"

He kissed you "I know but I don't want to cum before I get a chance to make you cum"

You smile and kiss him back, "well do you want to ..." you lean back into the pillows and let your knees fall open.

Severus can't see too well but he reaches out a finger and traces along your folds. He finds your clit and circles it a few times with his finger tips. You sigh, your head dipping back further into the pillows.

He lays down on his belly and kisses along your calf all the way up to your thighs. His kisses turn into small nips followed by his tongue licking the sting away.

Your skin was flush, you couldn't believe this was actually happening. Part of you felt like you would wake any moment frustrated again. But then Severus's tongue pressed against your entrance licking down and up and around your clit.

You sigh with pleasure lifting your hips slightly to get closer to his mouth. He holds your butt up with his hands and let's his tongue dive deep between your folds.

It feels so good but you want more.

"Sev, use your fingers" you moan. Severus slides his tongue up to your clit again and begins to suck on it while pushing in two fingers.

The stretch feels nice but as he moves them in and out you feel like he is not hitting the right angle.

"Darling turn your hand over" Severus flipped his palm up "now curl your fingers slightly... little more... mmmhmm yesss oh gods. Okay now try" Severus curled his fingers just as you asked and then started pumping them in and out of you. The moans coming from you now were getting louder.

Your thighs started to twitch and your hands fisted the blankets as your orgasam drew closer. "Ooh Severus yes please just a little more" you beg and he picks up the speed. His tongue massaged your clit. He felt your walls tighten around your fingers, your breathing getting faster and then you called out his name as your orgasam crashed over you.

You were panting as Severus kept slowly moving his fingers in and out letting you ride out your orgasam. The feeling too much you gently pushed his hand away.

"That was ... oh man... that was amazing" you breath trying to catch your breath.

"Think you're ready to keep going?"He traced his fingers up and down your soaking wet opening and then smeared it on his cock. You watched him and nodded your head and licking your lips.

He climbs over you, positioning his cock at your entrance. He slides the tip up and down making you squirm.

He enters slowly stopping when he here's you hiss threw your teeth. "I'm sorry I'm sorry.." He begins.

"No," you cut him off "it's good. Keep going. I like it" you push you heels into his butt to nudge him forward. He slides in easily and you moan at the stretch and how he massaged against your walls so soon after your orgasam. Your body shuttered when he finally was all the way in.

"You okay?" He asked propping himself on one elbow so he could brush the hair from your face and kiss you.

You nod against the kiss and slide your tongue across his bottom lip. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth and moan against it as he pulls out.

He moves gently, watching your face with every push and pull. You get accustomed to the feeling of him inside you. He groans as your walls flex on his cock.

"Do you think you can cum again? " He asks sucking on your neck.

You moan "yes" and arch your back into him.

Your hand slides down to your clit and you being rubbing small circles into it.

Your walls squeeze against his cock again and his hips sputter out of rhythm. He picks up the speed and deep moans escape his clenched jaw. He lifts your hips and dives deeper inside you.

"I think I gunna...." He begins and before he has a chance to think or pull out he cums hard. He trusts his cock deep in your pussy as his seed paints your walls sending you over the edge. You both cry out and he holds onto your legs for support.

He pulls the top sheet loose and tucks into between your legs. Then he retrieves the blanket from the floor and covers both of you with it.

You snuggle into his side and he holds you close.

"I love you" He whispers as he kisses the top of your head.

"I love you" you whisper against his neck. He twitches, he is so sensitive there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After school ended you invited Severus to spend the summer with you.

He accepted

The both of you didn't foresee how much time you will be at the Malfoy Manor nor how often you would be with other people.

The Potters were still in hiding and doing a fine good job of it. It made the dark lord more aggressive and frantic. His hair had now fallen out.

Every time you both thought you would have some time together Severus would end up leaving clutching his burning forearm. That cursed dark mark.

One afternoon you were in Severus's room both of you in a state of undress his mouth firmly latched onto your nipple. When the door slammed open. Lucius Malfoy barged in followed by your father and then the dark lord himself.

Severus thrusted his shirt over you snapping, "Do you mind!" before he saw Voldemort.

He shot to his feet, "My lord!"

You father was pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut. "Mel, can you please go wait outside... and put some clothes on before somebody sees you!" he snapped throwing his cloak over your shoulders and ushering you out of the room.

"I doubt there is anybody who hasn't seen. " Lucius purred and you tried to spin around in your fathers arm so you could spit in his face. His hands clamped down on your arms though stopping you and giving you one final push out before slamming the door.

You went back to your room and found some of your own clothes to put on and left Severus's shirt and your fathers cloak on the floor. The house elves would probably take care of it but you didn't care, how could they both stand there and let Lucius say that! You growled to yourself and stomp off to the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night before Voldemort was 'holding court' as he liked to call it. Where we all gathered around and watched him torture someone, or make them spill your darkest secrets, or even to just curse someone and make them do ridiculous things.

This night a scared, rat looking boy, around your age came to 'request an audience with his darkness'.

He said that he had information on where the Potter's were. He told them the house and when he would be next on watch duty and the dark lord could just waltz in and take care of business.

The dark lord sent scouts out to be sure and the following morning they confirmed they were there! Severus was distraught requested an private audience with Voldemort.

You waited around for Severus but he was gone for the rest of the day. You had no idea where they had went. You spent the day wondering the halls and then after dinner went to wait for Severus in his room. You fell asleep waiting for him.

You woke to a crash and yelling and then the shattering of glass. You leapt out of bed looking around frantically. No sign of Severus or even of him being here at all in the night.

Outside the yelling is getting closer and you recognize curses being shouted. You grab your wand and move to rush out of the room but the door slams into you first. Two ministry men rush in and seize you and take your wand. You are arrested and put in the back of a carriage with the remaining living Death Eaters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several compounds were infiltrated and more and more people were either sentenced to Azkaban or confessed enough names of known death eaters to be set free.

Once word got around that naming names would set you free several people started to talk.

A lot of more 'influential' people were able to face trial and be found "innocent".

During a transport you saw him. Severus! He was slumped in the cell face hidden by his hair.

"Severus!" you call out. He looks up weakly but then sees you. He sits up his hand pressed against the bars but then you are pushed into the next room. They place you in a small circular cage and crank it up to the next floor. You find yourself in the middle of a court room. Several people all around you, stacks of paper covering any open space. Two men beside you start turning spikes into the cage so you can't move too much in the space. One spike pricks your cheek and it stings and welts with blood.

"Melyra Hawkthorn Burke." A man calls out to the room

"Read the charges" A dull man drones as he scribbles on the sheet in front of him.

"Miss Burke is charged with conspiracy of being a Death Eater, conspiring with Death Eaters, and the deaths of Marissa Davenport, The Elklong family, and the Kingsburrow family." Said the announcer

The dull man doesn't look up but continues to scribble on his sheet. "And how does the client plea?"

"Not guilt!" you shout. He looks up at you.

"And what evidence do you have that supports your plea?"

"What evidence do you have that places ME at those murders. I've never killed anyone! Bring me my wand and I'll prove it to you!"

"At this time council is not bringing in any wands for examination ..."

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO PROVE I DIDN'T KILL THEM IF YOU DON'T CHECK MY WAND!" You shout.

The man blinks slowly and sighs, "Please take miss Burke back to her cell..."

"YOU BASTARD!" you shout as they lower you back down.

"...where she can await her transport to Azkaban."

The cage lowers beyond and no one will listen to you anyways. At the last moment you see Dumbledore's face sitting contently in the crowd. 'He didn't vouch for you!?!' you thought angerly.

On your way back to your cell you shout to Severus, "I'M THINKING OF YOU!"

He doesn't move from his spot on the floor and you hope he understands....

Hours pass and nothing. You scream inside your head for him but feel nothing. You can't see him from here but you assume he will be going up soon to be charged as well and he should know that Dumbledore is just sitting in the audience watching!

Finally as you are about to fall asleep you feel the smoke creeping inside your mind. You visualize your 'trial' again so he can see the verdict. He doesn't say or do anything. He is probably too stunned to know what to say. They have been betrayed after all they have done, after all they sacrificed.

You felt him pull away and try and call him back but you are alone again.

You sat on the floor, pulled your knees up, and cried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days went by and you waited to here from Severus but never did.

Finally you were set to be transported to Azkaban. You couldn't breath, you felt the panic rising up inside of you, and then a rush of calm. As you saw the guard put his wand in his back pocket as he unlocked the cell with a metal key.

Without thinking further you rushed the cell door and shoved it as hard as you could. The edge of it swung and caught the guard in the nose. You snatched his wand from his pocket and took off. You took a longer way to see if Severus was still in the cell from before but he was gone. You heard shouting and ran further down the hall. Around a bend through a door and into a broom closet.

Gasping for breath you clutched the wand to your chest tightly and tried to steady yourself to think.

First you tried the wand with a little levitation spell, it responded nicely to you! One thing in your favor. You cast the legilimens spell and search for the familiar feeling of Severus. He wasn't anywhere down here. You worried he was already on his way to Azkaban.

You tried summoning your wand but unfortunately it didn't work. 'They had probably already destroyed it by now' you thought bitterly. You picked your way along the corridors until you found yourself at the stairwell. You climbed all the way to the top most landing and went out the door. On the roof you were able to cast a vine spell to climb down the side of the ministry.

Once on the ground you ran, you didn't know what you were going to do but you knew you couldn't go back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus clutched his chest as he fell to his knees in Dumbeldore's office.

"You said you would keep them safe!" He wailed "You said they would be safe! You promised!" He cried and cried as the rain fell against the headmasters window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't go anywhere in the wizarding world without being recognized now. You decided to lie low until you could brew a polyjuice potion and find out what happened to Severus.

A month of living in the muggle world had really put a lot of things into perspective for you. You used as little magic as possible to ensure you wouldn't be found out and spent a great deal of time inside. You neighbors thought you were shy but you really just didn't want them to get to know you. You didn't plan on staying after.

Once it was ready you found a ministry employee and knocked them out to steal their hair and their clothes.

Entering the ministry was easy and you were able to get to the records room without any interruptions. Taking another swig of potion before you began your search you looked for Severus's court files to find out where he was. It should have the cell number he is in in Azkaban and you would be able to figure.... Your train of thought halts completely when you see the green rectangular stamp across his main file page reading 'PARDONED". He was pardoned, he was free! You were too busy celebrating to really think what that meant.

By now it was almost September and Severus would probably still be at home getting ready to go to the school. You disaperate to his flat in London.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus is packing his trunk when he hears a whoosh of clothes and sees a cloud of smoke curling out from his living room. Wand drawn at the ready he creeps to the doorway.

"Severus?" you call in just above a whisper.

He startles and jumps out from the bedroom casting to stun you. You deflect. He casts again, you deflect again.

"Severus!" you snap. Another spell

"Stop it!" Deflect

"Its me, Lyra!" spell

"Nonsense, Lyra is dead!" He hisses twirling his wand before sending out ropes to wrap around you. You can't react fast enough and they tie you up and you fall over your balance gone.

"Severus!" you screech as you fall to the floor with a thud.

"How can I prove its me? Look into my mind and you'll know for certain!"

"Even if it is really you" He spat as he knelt down in front of you "you got her killed! This is all your fault! You told Voldemort where they were hiding!"

"Who?! I didn't tell him anything!" you struggle against the ropes but its no use. Your wand is just out of reach.

"Please, Severus, it's me! I would never do anything to harm you!" you whine. Severus's face in inches from yours.

"Dumbledore told me how you've been lying to me this whole time!" his voice was flat now, emotionless. He spoke so calmly.

"No Severus please it's not like that! It was at first but I really did have feelings for you! I still do!"

"You used me!" he yells

"I had no choice!" You shout back

"There is always a choice Melyra!"

"Then what is your excuse!?"

You both are nose to nose, breathing heavy, and red faced with anger. Severus looks away first and stands up. He steps back from you and waves his wand, taking away the ropes.

"Get out of my sight." he spits. You try to argue but he just shouts "OUT!" and pushes his want against your throat until you back away.

"Severus" you whimper your eyes blinking away tears. "Please"

"I never want to see you again!" He screams and slams the door in your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You decide to leave England and go on a safari expedition. You thought you had contracted some unknown dieses but it turns out you were pregnant. You gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Pollux Emery.

You raise him while traveling from Algeria to Nepal and everywhere in between that had never heard of you. You took on the last name Hawkthorn for yourself and your son and left Burke back in England.

Ten years had passed when you entered your house, Pollux right behind you and find a man sitting at your table drinking your brandy.

"He has returned" the man says setting the glass down.

You send a reluctant and curious Pollux to his room and pour yourself your own glass. After drinking it all and refilling it you finally speak.

"And what do you want me to do? Hmm? I'm a wanted woman. I won't get involved with the death eaters again. It's too dangerous.... I have too much at stake...." you say as your eyes cast to Pollux's closed door.

"The boy? Is he...?"

"Mine? Yes." You say firmly.

"The Potter boy lives. He is to start school this year. I have had all crimes against you absolved. I did so shortly after your trial." He adds with a smirk.

"And you tell me this now!? Convenient." You scoff

"You are a difficult person to find. I have held up my end of the bargain. I would like you to do the same."

Your forearm burns and the mark of an unbreakable vow surfaces on your skin in angry red welts before fading away again.

You sigh, "does he know?"

"Severus? Oh I haven't told him anything."

You furrow your eyebrows. "He thinks I'm the reason someone got killed. He said you told him everything."

"I merely explained to Severus that you had been on our side the whole time, working for me. He has clearly found whatever you two have... had, something that can't continue knowing this information now."

"Does he know you are asking me to come back?" You say cautiously.

"No."

"So you are going blindside him?"

"Severus is on a need to know bases... if you refuse then telling him would be a waste of time."

"It's not like I can really refuse!" You snap.

"He will find out in due time. Meanwhile, what arrangements can you make for.. " Dumbledore waves his hand in the air indicating your son.

"Pollux" you say firmly

"Ah, the brightest star and a demigod among his mortal twin."

"He will come with me. I know he's too young to start school but he can be my assistant and help with the greenhouse. Knowing the years I've seen we will need plenty of medicinal plants." You sigh and stand from the table. You leave no room for further discussion as you open the door and motion for Dumbledore to exit.

Standing he looks around the room fondly, "I shouldn't need to remind you of the boundaries of your vow but just as a reminder, you mustn't speak of this to anyone." He placed a finger against his lips and then ducked out the door.

Pollux cracked his door open, "mom?"

"Come down darling. How much did you hear?"

"Everything" he admitted with his head bowed.

You nodded your head unable to say anything more on the subject.

"So it's a school? " He asks, you nod your head.

"For kids with magic? Like me?" You nod again

"Amazing! Let's go! How big is it? Do I get to see the whole thing? Will there be kids my age? Can I get a wand like you?...." his questions rattled on and on. You both talked well into the night.

"And one more thing..." you take a great big sigh "the man who is your father will be there... " you watch watch his face over the rim of your glass. His face changes from glad to angry to confused.

"...will I meet him?" He says into his own mug.

"If you'd like. The castle is big enough you could avoid meeting him all together... I'm not sure how he will react given... everything" you couldn't explain any further you tongue heavy in your mouth.

He's questioned it before and you simply told him that his father and you didn't want to be around each other anymore. You also let him know his father had no idea about him because you never got the chance to tell him.

"If he knew about you I'm sure he would have done anything to be in your life." You said

"Well we will see won't we..."

You hide your smile in your tea and try not to roll your eyes. Your sweet boy had an air for the dramatics.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You levitated your trunks in front of you as you walk along the grounds towards the green house. You get everything settled and tell Pollux to stay near the shed while you go talk with someone.

"My dad?" He asks in that tone I hope doesn't stick around as he gets older.

"Yes, and you will stay here."

"Ugh fine!" He groans and you roll your eyes.

You hope Severus is here already setting up his classroom. If you remember correctly he always came as early as possible.

Finding the potions door proped open and the sound of him humming to himself you knew he was in there.

You felt stuck to the floor as you stood in the hall.

"Whoever you are. You might as well. Come. In" a deep slow voice calls from inside the room.

Your heart seizes and you hold your breath.

"Well...?" The voice says again.

You almost turn and run but them you force yourself to move through the doorway.

Severus looks older, not only with the passing of time but also the hardships he has faced. He is still just as beautiful to you though.

He is shuffling through a stack of parchment when he finally looks up hearing your steps on the damp stone.

He pales.

"Before you start yelling," you caution stepping in further. He rounds the desk the papers falling to the floor.

"I need to tell you..." He reaches for you and you force yourself not the flinch. He touches your cheek so feather soft. Feeling you solid before him and wraps you in his arms and starts crying.

You both slide down to the floor as he holds you close to his chest as it heaves with heavy sobs.

"I . . I. .. thought. . You you you were dead!" He wails. "I looked for you everywhere after the fall! I should have never sent you away." He pulles your face off his chest to look into your eyes and then kisses you.

Your body relaxes back into his as if no time has passed. Without breaking the kiss he waves his wand snd the door slams shut. He shoves the remaining papers off the desk and lifts you on top of it. He kisses you like a starved man, moaning into your mouth.

"I've missed you so much!" You cry tears trickling down your cheeks. He licks them up for you and then wipes his thumbs under your eyes brushing the rest away.

He kisses you more urgently now his hands tugging and pulling on your skirts. He slides your underwear and stockings down around your ankles and pauses to look into your eyes.

You smile and nod your head as he undoes his belt with a slapping sound. Your body shutters, you roll your hips against him and he eases you down off the desk and bends you over it instead.

Stepping out of your undergarments entirely he nudges your feet further apart with his foot. He leans his body over yours and whispers in your ear.

"I have waited so long for this" and presses his cock into your wet heat.

You moan as you pushes into you. Once fully sheathed inside of you he wiggles his hips back and forth making your back arch. He pushes your head back down on the desk then grabs onto your hips and holds them down as he pulls back out.

His cock thrusts in and out of you comfortably at first then Severus's pace picks up. His hips are slapping against your backside as he thrusts into you again and again.

You whimper as the electric feeling gathers in your belly. Your body jerks up as you cum around his cock.

One hand still on your hip he wraps his other around around your chest and holds you against him. Your head tipped back on his shoulder moaning into his ear and he rode out your orgasam, your walls flexing around him until he spills inside of you with a whine.

He kisses along your jaw then nibbles on your ear lobe affectionately.

You sigh satisfied and spent.

You brave yourself against the desk as he let's you go. Your legs wobble but you stay upright.

He pushes tour shoulders forward so he can watch as the mixture of both of your fluids gushes out after his cock. He waves his wand reluctantly to clean it up.

After a few moments to catch your breath you both right your clothes and Severus summons you a glass of water.

"Thanks" you sigh and then drink the whole thing down.

"What now? What are you doing here?"

"Do have any firewhiskey?" You ask sheepishly.

He looks confused but waves his wand as he walks up the back stairs to his room. You follow him up and are pleasantly surprised the room looks exactly the same. He waved his wand and a glass of iced firewhiskey floated to you. He held his own, neat.

You decided to break the big news first.

"You have a son."

He chokes and sputters on his drink and you quickly look away as you take a giant swig of yours.

He steps closer to you, "I have a son" he whispers stunned he sinks into the arm chair next to you.

You sit in his lap and tell him as much of the story as you can. Finally done he sits in silence. You have finished your drink and the refill that followed. Severus hadn't tried to take another sip of his.

"Can I meet him?" He asks just above a whisper, his fingers trace up and down your arm as he holds you to him.

"Of course, he wants to meet you too." Severus jumps out of the chair setting you a little sloppily on the ground.

"Is he here? What's his name?"

"Pollux. Pollux Emery. He's in the greenhouse."

"Pollux" he whispers to himself and nods. "And he's what? 9? 10?" He asks.

"He just turned 10 this spring"

"What's he like?"

You told him stories all about your son. How clever he was and funny. How he reminded you of Severus.

"Well atleast now he can get a proper education. No son of mine is going to be galavanting across the continent only learning about silly plants and animals"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask defensively.

Severus shrugged, "you did what you thought was best for our son but now that I'm here we can give him something much better."

"Lux is perfectly happy with how his life has been. He has learned and experienced things people can only dream of."

"While all that is incredible it sounds like you've raised my son to be some kind of wild child."

"He's not some wild child, he is perfectly respectable."

"And he will learn far better with some structure in his life. No son of mine... " He begins but you cut him off.

"HE'S NOT YOUR SON!" You snap. The pure panic welling up inside of you. You take a breath and try to meet his eye. "I mean to say that it's been just him and I for a long time. I know you were robbed of that time with him and I want you to be able to meet him. But please don't push it. I will do whatever is best for him. I am his mother and I've raised him all on my own." You feel your body calming down as you reach for his hand. "I'm sorry Severus. I really want you to meet him. Keep in mind though... you are a stranger to him. You are blood but you are not known. Let's create a relationship with him first before you try and parent him"

Severus is feeling a swell of emotions but he had to admit you were right. He had worked with children long enough to know if he tried to push anything they would only resist.

"Alright, alright." He says taking your hand. "Let me meet him."

[callmedylan]

some more security waiter + slight ness and Susie sibling AU headcanons while I work on more fazgang AU art

Ness is the type to play music when he wakes up to help energize himself, doesn’t help that he wakes up at around 5:30 AM and Mike has to deal with the loud ass musical theater music until ness leaves for work

ness has always loved theorizing but started intensely theorizing after susie went missing. Mike just has to sit there and be like “idk ness…that seems a little far fetched” (everything ness is saying has happened and mike knows it:

Ness loves baking, he can’t cook for shit but he can cook. Mike is the opposite and can’t bake for crap. So mike is in charge of cooking meals and ness is in charge of making the birthday cakes for Abby’s bdays (and mikes cause ness is just like that)

Mike loves ness to death but he cannot stand musicals, he finds them quite annoying but Abby and ness love them so he puts his hatred for them aside.

Ness and Susie’s parents use to take them to the same camp grounds as mikes family. They were there the day Garret went missing and ness often says how he had to leave because “some kid got taken”. Ness insists that him and Mike met a few times at the camp grounds but Mike can’t remember it so he constantly denies it.

Mikes is the big spoon, when he holds on to something it helps ground him while he sleeps so he doesn’t have a nightmare. Ness doesn’t mind at all but considering he’s taller being the little spoon is definitely an awkward position sometimes. (Tall guy issues)

The first Christmas the trio spent together after ness moved in, Abby ran in at around 4 am and jumped on top of them while they were asleep and in bed to tell them that “Santa came” (Mike wasn’t happy.)

Ness loves to dance, Mike has two left feet, they make it work.

When hanging out with the fazgang, ness and Mike will text each other (even if they are in the same room)

One time ness was talking about susie and Abby said “oh I know Susie! She’s my friend!” (Mike cut her off before she could finish tho and internally panicked)

Ness is a muppets enthusiast, has all the movies and song tracks, and even owns some memorabilia.

Ness has a replica of the Kermit puppet that he sometimes uses and he once accidentally left it sitting upright on the kitchen counter and when Mike went to get a glass of water in the middle of the night he turned on the light and screamed not knowing what it was (ness won’t let him live it down).

Mike is half Mexican and knows Spanish and ness asks him to “speak Spanish to him” sometimes because he thinks it’s romantic. He’d do this for a month or two before he recognized Mike say the word “chicken” and when he asked Mike what he’s been saying to him for the last month Mike goes “oh whenever you tell me to speak Spanish to you I just repeat a recipe I know”

Ness uses a concerning amount of hair spray (almost to a toxic level) so Mike makes him open a window whenever he’s getting his hair ready.

Ness and Mike once went on a date and left Cory with Abby and Cory ended up falling asleep on the couch so Abby, not wanting to wake him but still wanting to talk to someone, took their phone line and called 911 (it’s the only number she knows) and Mike and ness had to cut their night short to come home to reprimand Abby on who she calls.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i have a request!

maybe one where steve knows he's bisexual before eddie but ofc, eddie thinks he's straight and doesn't think he has a chance, so he just takes whatever he can get with steve's friendship even though he has the biggest crush on steve and vice versa. but when eddie does find out about both, eddie would be internally screaming bc he could have been in a relationship with him and kissing steve ages ago.

i just love gay disaster eddie and confident bisexual steve haha

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! This one could genuinely be a multi-chapter fic, so if someone has the time, I would love LOVE LOVE to read that. For now, here's a taste of something that kind of checks all the boxes mentioned but at superspeed. If I could write a 20k fic on it, it probably would have A LOT more pining first. I'm a sucker for pining. I hope you love this little thing! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve was giving off vibes, okay?

Like, major ones.

And Eddie was convinced he was imagining it or just trying to convince himself that something existed where it didn’t to make his chances higher.

When Robin came out, a small part of him believed that Steve had to be at least a little queer. Men didn’t just accept being turned down by someone they liked when they turned out to be a big old lesbian.

But when he casually asked Robin if Steve had ever been so inclined towards the same sex, she laughed hysterically and said Steve was as straight as they came, that she’d never met anyone as straight as him, and that she’d probably end up with a man before he did.

So he let it go.

But then he said stuff sometimes about actors or singers that just left Eddie’s brain a big pile of question marks.

Maybe Eddie just didn’t know how straight dudes talked about other dudes?

So he let that go too.

And then Steve was genuinely checking out a guy at the public pool. There was no other explanation for the way his eyes focused in on his ass and worked their way up his body, a nod of silent approval hidden to all but Eddie.

But he did the same exact thing to Robin when she came out of the changing room, and while he knew he had feelings for her a while ago, they were long gone.

“What was that all about?” Eddie gave in and asked when everyone else started walking to the steps to get in.

“What?”

“Checking Robin out.”

“What the hell? I wasn’t checking her out! I was making sure her bathing suit fit right. One of the things they taught in lifeguard classes was that a too big or too small bathing suit can kill you.”

“So you were just making sure it fit?”

“Yeah. I don’t want her to drown.”

Eddie sighed.

But he let it go.

He stopped hoping for the chance to be more than friends. He was fine with just being friends. More than fine. Great.

He got to enjoy having Steve as a friend.

He didn’t half ass anything.

If he said he was gonna hang out, he was ready to commit the entire day to making sure you had his attention.

If he had everyone over at his house for movie night, he had everyone’s favorite snacks ready to go.

If he was gonna join Eddie at the quarry and smoke and look at the stars, he was gonna do it while making Eddie fall in love with him.

It wasn’t fair.

But he tried to let it go.

It was one of those nights that he found out he didn’t have to let it go.

“You ever just wonder how you could have ever thought you were a different person?”

What? Okay, Steve was high. Past the silly kind and right into the too existential to make sense kind.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re sayin’, man.”

Steve giggled.

God, Eddie was fucking done for.

“It’s just that I thought I was straight for 17 years of my life. And then spent another two years trying to convince myself that I couldn’t be anything but straight. And then life smacked me with Robin and now you and it didn’t really leave me much room to argue.”

“What are you saying?”

“I mean, I’ve had a crush on you since. Well, definitely since you held a bottle to my throat, but probably before that. Like, way before that. Maybe your first senior year.”

Steve was high. He didn’t mean what he was saying, and even if somehow he did, it wasn’t fair to hold him to it. Being high was sometimes like being drunk: the words may be true, but the feelings may not stick around.

So Eddie took a deep breath, bit back the tears he could feel clinging to his eyes and the burn in his throat, and forced himself to change the subject.

It wasn’t fair, but when Steve let him change the subject easily, he let it go.

————-

It took three weeks for him to break.

He was with Steve at his house, waiting for the kids to show up for movie night. Steve was busy preparing homemade pizza because he thrived on being able to cook for everyone.

Eddie loved him so much.

He was staring. He knew he was.

But how could he not when Steve was in that stupid “Number One Dad” apron that Max got him last Christmas as a joke, but he’d sniffled and said thank you like it was the best gift he got in the world?

Steve was humming something, sliding the last pizza into the oven (pineapple and ham for El, Will, and Mike), when it all seemed to hit him.

Steve had come out to him, had admitted out loud that he wasn’t straight and that he’d had a crush on him for a long time.

Sure, he was high when he did, but he’d been high with Eddie lots of times and never given away any top secret personal information like that.

He’d wanted Eddie to make a move.

He was so stupid.

He stood abruptly, nearly banging his knee against the bar in the kitchen.

Steve looked over at him, brows furrowed in concern, lips pouting out unintentionally.

Eddie stalked over to him, not bothering to explain his theatrics. At this point, Steve should be used to them.

He stopped right in front of him, looking down at the suddenly nervous way Steve was holding himself.

He wasn’t letting it go this time.

He sure as shit wasn’t running. He didn’t do that anymore.

“You remember the quarry?”

“Like, in general…or…?”

“A few weeks ago you said something at the quarry.”

“Oh.” Steve looked down at the floor between them. “Yeah. It’s okay that you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”

There was no fucking way Eddie was letting him think he didn’t want him back.

He gripped his cheeks in his hands, palms tilting his face up so he could look into his eyes.

Steve was biting his lip so hard, it looked like it could start bleeding any moment.

Eddie brought his thumb over, pulling his lip from his teeth.

“How can I kiss you if you’re too busy eating your lip?”

Steve’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Stevie. Did you mean it then?”

“Yeah, ‘course I did. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Then I need to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

Eddie wouldn’t let that go to his head. Not yet.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s responding smile lit up the room, more than the overhead lights, more than the actual sunlight streaming through the window.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Eddie leaned in as Steve did, their lips meeting in a light peck that quickly deepened, moans escaping their mouths at the same moment.

He let his hands slide down to Steve’s neck, his thumbs rubbing small circles as his tongue begged for entrance into his mouth.

Steve was sinking further against him, his heartbeat steady against Eddie’s chest.

“It’s about damn time. Honestly, I was starting to think I’d have to make Steve come out to you again.”

Robin’s voice shocked them apart, but when they realized who it was, they managed to fall back into each other.

Eddie’s arm slipped around Steve’s waist as Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“The kids will be inside in about 20 seconds so if you would prefer they don’t know what’s going on, you should wipe those lovesick looks off your faces and find a bubble of personal space.”

Eddie kissed the top of Steve’s head before pulling away.

“Talk when the kids leave?”

“Yeah. But first,” Steve pulled Eddie in for one more quick kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, he was smirking. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“I don’t plan on letting you out of bed for the next 24 hours after the kids leave. We’ll at least get a good start on the catching up.”

Eddie threw a wink at Steve, ignoring Robin’s gagging noises, and sat back at the bar.

The kids came running in, circling Steve to hug him or ask him what dinner was and Eddie smiled to himself.

Robin nudged him after a few seconds.

“You’re both so hopeless.”

“Not anymore.”

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 9: don't startle the stray (Nishinoya Yuu/Reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: MAN this chapter got away from me. enjoy some fluff!

Summary: The weekend at Nekoma comes to an end. You settle in for the ride home.

Warnings: blanket series warnings

Words: ~4400

The vibes are off and you're too tired to do anything but marinate in them.

Another shuffle of bus seats—three girls, two seats at most, but because it's at least daylight and you're alright with it, the others, including Takeda-sensei, have reluctantly allowed a single instance of co-ed seating on the bus, trusting that you'll hit Noya if he tries anything. (You'd gotten onto the bus after him, but you're pretty sure he threatened to fist-fight anyone who sat with him and took your spot. Taking the aisle seat didn't save you: he simply climbed over you to take the window seat.)

Surprisingly, he's not taken the opportunity to talk your ear off. He's kind of got the same vibes everyone else has had ever since this morning, the ones you can't place.

Tense, maybe? Moldy?

You try your best to sigh only internally, not fully willing to be forced to hash it out in an enclosed space regardless of who's decided to pounce on your mood. Instead, you stare at the same damn page of your book that you never got through on the way down here and don't process a single word.

Hinata… got too excited, you guess. Crashed right into Azumane because he wasn't paying enough attention to who the set was for. No one hurt, but then he started in about changing things (not a bad idea, in your totally-expert opinion as someone who has recently gained an entire half of an idea about how volleyball works but who also just spent the past day or so watching them lose), got totally shut down by Kageyama, and outright stated that what they're doing as a team isn't actually working. And ever since, this is what it's been: something pulled taut between the team, everyone on edge.

Something's gonna burst soon.

It's probably a good thing, you think? One of those throw-up-and-then-you'll-feel-better deals. They'll have, like, one big event that fixes everything, and it'll all go back to normal, and it'll be fine and the thing that gets you out of the house will stay fun.

Yeah. It'll be fine.

~

Mei had always been the weirdest Nishinoya sibling. Kaede was responsible (don't make trouble for Mom this month; she gets really sad around the time her ex-husband left); Satsuki was the troublemaker (I wouldn't have punched him if he weren't such a bitch). Yuu was the only boy, the baby, and only a bit less bad than Satsuki. But Mei?

Mei was quiet. She was a Nishinoya and she was quiet. Despite looking alike, the contrast between her and every single other Nishinoya sibling resulted in strangers assuming they were friends at best and that Mei was being harassed by strangers at worst. Jii-chan got to her too late, probably: all the shyness and all-consuming anxiety that Yuu learned to throw out, to set aside, to hold in for times when no one could see, remained her defining trait.

She didn't have any particular strong hobbies that she was willing to talk about. She cried seemingly at random. She spent long stretches of time doing what looked like nothing at all. She was smart and good at school, but where Yuu got to the test and found it almost impossible to focus long enough to finish in time, she'd sit down for an exam and be escorted out half an hour later, hyperventilating after talking herself into a panic attack. Where he'd learned to simply not give a fuck about academics because he was never gonna be good at them anyway, she was already good and stressed herself to tears.

It'd been Yuu who checked the college entrance exam results for her, Satsuki who screamed about her acceptance loud enough to wake the neighbors, and Kaede who baked a cake to celebrate. But before that, they had to bring home Soba.

Satsuki would kill him for saying it, but Mei was also his favorite sister. He had her to thank for teaching him to spot the onset of an anxiety or panic attack, and her to thank for being able to tell the difference between the two. It was Mei he learned simple, effective strategies for calming oneself for, and Mei who jumped to his defense when he brought home yet another shitty test score. It was hard to control his energy around Satsuki, just a year older than him and the most likely sibling to start or join a fight, and Kaede was kind and responsible but just didn't get it. Mei was the one he could sit silently with, decompress, just exist without feeling the need to be bigger than himself. He found that hard to do with anyone else, at any other time.

(It helped that Mei was the only sister who did not tease him for his height, being shorter than every single other Nishinoya sibling and the only boy.)

The day he found Mei crouching near an empty building in the pouring rain, he listened to her whispered instructions, and they stuck.

Don't push too hard. Crouch down, make yourself small so she doesn't think you're a threat. Let her smell you, but don't reach too fast or move too quickly. Don't shout or you'll scare her. If she hisses or shies away, back off. Be patient, and don't give up.

Admittedly, he's been trying to use the same methods that brought Soba home that first night to get close to you, and admittedly, he hasn't done a very good job with most of them, but you don't seem to have noticed when he breaks a cardinal rule by tackling you or shouting because he's excited to see you, and anyways you're not a stray cat and the two of you are more in the "befriending a nervous cat" stage, but the general strategy stands.

Mei's instructions after the two of them had gotten Soba home had been similar to the ones that got Soba out from under the porch she'd been hiding under, and following those instructions religiously were why Soba loved him and Mei and hated everyone else alive, save for you.

If she needs to hide, let her hide as long as it won't hurt her. It's not like we're trying to give her life-saving medicine, and we'll leave out the things she needs so she can access them on her own time.

Picture you, texting him multiple times in the middle of the night, asking for nothing but a picture of Soba with the sort of texting tone that indicated something was wrong. Picture you, refusing to explain what was wrong. Picture him, letting it go even when he can't shake the sense that you didn't just randomly decide you wanted to see his cat at four in the morning.

Try not to upset her routine. She's a nervous kitty, so doing things around the same time each day will help her get used to us.

This is how he justifies yelling your name and complimenting you every single morning. You're not quite as skittish as Yachi is, but he sees the way you walk yourself into conclusions in your head and he saw the way you spiraled directly into an anxiety attack that time you helped him Ryu and him study. And anyway, you smile when he tells you you look nice that day, so he's not stopping that anytime soon.

Let her come to you. Don't chase her down.

He's not sure near-daily marriage proposals qualifies for not chasing, so to speak, but he's really, really trying not to push any harder than you seem to be okay with.

This last one—other rules for acclimating the nervous new cat that he's decided also apply to courting the prettiest girl he's ever seen—is why, after the fortieth time since he slid into the bus seat beside you, he still doesn't ask why, exactly, you've been on the same page of your book for the past—he checks his phone—forty-three minutes, give or take.

There's no point to giving space to worry ninety percent of the time. If he can't change the outcome, there's no sense in worrying. It's not that he doesn't feel the worry—he just… sets it aside. It's easy to forget it's there if you switch focus to something else, and he's the champion of not focusing on anything at a given time. Shouyo gets too caught up in the game, he creates a new worry by smashing into Asahi's side, but no one was hurt, so forget about it—there's a set to play, a ball to bump, a point to keep in play until it lands on the other side of the net.

But here he is: four and a half hours on a bus, and his most frequent worry these days has been silent a different way from the usual. Yuu would like to think he knows the difference between your pleasant-quiet and your something's-wrong-quiet, and he would also like to think that this difference is fairly obvious considering how much of the past forty-three minutes of silence was you openly glaring at your book without reading it.

Part of let her come to you and don't chase means following cues and paying attention to how you react. You don't like when people worry over you. In fact, you do everything you can to make sure they don't have a reason to. It has the opposite effect, as far as he's concerned, but you take it to a new extreme. He even swears you try to hold in yawns until no one's watching you so no one thinks you're tired, even when the bags under your eyes are clearly running deep. And you're good at putting on a mask—he's seen you switch, the exact moments you decide to smile and talk sweet or otherwise mask some emotion you've decided doesn't have a place in the situation.

That being said, this latest glance worry-ways has him catching you before you sway into the aisle, a firm hand quickly grabbing your shoulder and guiding you back to safety.

Your eyes drift open as he tries not to laugh. "Mmgh?"

"You almost fell," he whispers. "Go back to sleep, we've got a while to go."

"Mmkay."

He shuts his eyes tight, presses a hand firm over his mouth to stop himself. Much like the first time Soba fell asleep on him, there's a life-changing pride that swells in his chest, spiking to what he's pretty sure counts as a cardiac event when you sway again, this time leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder.

"Uh—[name]-san—"

You turn your face into his shoulder wordlessly. You've already fallen back asleep.

Face burning, he shuffles to get comfortable, marks your page in your book, and sets it closed on your lap. Then, as an afterthought, he pulls up his phone's camera and starts a video recording.

"Before you fall back asleep, [name]-san," he whispers.

You wrinkle your nose, let out a tiny whine of acknowledgment.

"Marry me?"

You let out a breathy mumble that he's pretty sure is an attempt at the words stay still.

He won't argue with that.

~

You wake up with a sore neck.

You'd imagine it has something to do with the weight currently resting on your head, but you can't be sure and you're too tired to bother opening your eyes or moving. Instead, you listen to the ambient noise of the bus, which right now appears to be consumed with whispers more than anything.

"E-eh?" Yachi is saying to someone. "I-I can't just—that would be so rude—"

"Come on. You can always delete it if she asks when she's up."

"I-I'm sorry, Tanaka-san—"

"No worries. Here, let me just—"

You have a weird feeling about this. You shift, turn your face into whatever it is you've decided to use as a pillow for this bus ride.

This is about when you remember who you were sitting beside for the ride back.

"Got it! I'm just gonna—"

"Tanaka-senpai, if I open my eyes and I see you recording us in any form, I'm breaking your phone," you grumble, not bothering to unwind your arms from what you're pretty sure is Noya's midsection. You're also pretty sure that soreness in your neck has something to do with his head resting on yours, and you're absolutely certain that that's his arm around your waist. Put simply, any untangling right now is gonna wake him up if you're not careful.

All fine. You vaguely remember him catching you from falling into the aisle earlier. Given that he would appear to be asleep right now, you can't really blame him from shifting into a more comfortable position in his sleep, especially seeing as you can't see him moving your arms to wrap around his body in your sleep. That, and you know how often you wake up cuddling your pillow. For once, you're not going to kill him for something.

That being said, you're also pretty sure Tanaka can tell that you're not fucking around.

"Do me a favor and don't open your eyes yet, then," he replies simply. After a moment's shuffle: "Alright, now you don't have to break my phone."

Your phone—or maybe Noya's?—buzzes between you.

You'll bet actual money that he just sent whatever photo he took to one—or both—of you.

You open your eyes with a sigh, raising an eyebrow when you catch Yachi's sparkly look from over the seat back.

"Um." She takes a moment to collect herself. "Sensei says we'll be stopping at a rest stop soon, so everyone should be ready to get up and stretch their legs."

"'Kay."

Tanaka leers from across the aisle. "You can have the honors of waking your cuddle buddy up, [name]-san. Since you two are so close all of a sudden."

"I'm going to hit you."

"Lucky me, you'll need to wake him up to do that, and I'm pretty sure Noya-san will hold you back if you try."

You grumble. "Just watch me."

Finally, finally, you move to untangle yourself from Noya. Pat a hand on his chest in hopes of getting him to wake up. "Senpai. C'mon."

He shuffles a little. You shake him harder.

"Senpai."

He sighs sleepily, brings up his other arm to pull you against his chest in a crushing hold.

Tanaka stifles a laugh behind you. "By the way, he's got a bit of a death grip when he's still asleep. Good luck!"

"Don't you good luck me, help!" you hiss, wriggling in his hold.

"Promise not to hurt me for anything that's happened on this bus today?"

"Tanaka-senpai! After all I did for you—"

A hand reaches over the back of your seat, baps Noya on the head hard enough that it moves your head.

"Oi," Ennoshita says. "Get up. You're crushing [surname]-san."

A sleepy mumble. You feel the weight on top of your head shift, and you peek up at Noya, red-faced as you watch him process where he is.

Your one consolation is that he appears to become equally red-faced the moment he looks down at you. "Good morning, Senpai. P-please let me go so I can kill your best friend."

Impossibly, his hold on you tightens, sleep clearing from his eyes with frankly impressive speed. "What'd he do?"

"Irrelevant. I said please?"

He hums softly. "I'm not sure… we do need him for matches…"

Fuck. You need to get out of this before you combust. Not even just because this weird twist in your torso is starting to make more than just your neck hurt—every word from his mouth is rumbling through his chest, still sleep-tinged, and straight into you. "C'mon, Ennoshita-senpai can take his place, it won't kill you guys."

He studies you carefully, having apparently immediately grown used to the position where you've become a teddy bear. "Give me a strong yes and I'll think about it."

Alright, bet. Time to break out the big guns.

Looking at him with your best, sweetest puppy-dog eyes, you shift your voice into something just a touch cutesier than your usual. You'd normally never be caught dead with that tone, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right? "Senpai."

He blinks, expression going carefully blank.

"Please?"

He lets you go like he's been burned, and you immediately respond by launching yourself at Tanaka. Regrettably, Sawamura had sat across the aisle from the both of you as a pseudo-chaperone. He doesn't even look up when he sticks an arm out between you to block your path.

"The cleaning fees if you murder someone on the bus are ridiculous. All that hard work you and Yachi-san put in for donations would barely make a dent in it."

You frown, deflating a little. "I barely put in any work. Don't credit me for that."

He glances up at you curiously, but doesn't lower his arm until the bus pulls into the rest stop. "Tanaka, don't antagonize [surname]-san."

"Why am I getting yelled at? She's the one threatening me!"

Sawamura doesn't respond. You stick your tongue out and quiet down—Takeda-sensei's gotten up to address the bus.

"Alright, everyone, we're going to take some time to stretch and eat before getting back on the road. Feel free to get out, get some food, and everything, just please remember to be back at the bus in forty-five minutes."

Ukai nods along. "Don't make us hunt you down."

A round of affirmations stirs up in reply as your heart sinks.

You didn't bring any money.

No problem; you'll get off, bathroom break just so you can say you got off the bus, and then just get back on the bus and wait to leave. Maybe actually make progress on that fucking book you haven't been reading even though you've had at least six non-consecutive hours to read. It's getting ridiculous at this point.

You hop off the last step of the bus, scan the area until you find the large red and blue signs indicating the bathrooms. Before you can take more than two steps towards them, someone taps your shoulder.

There's Noya, grinning like always. "Where are you off to?"

"Bathroom. I'm pretty sure you can't legally follow, Senpai."

"Wanna grab lunch?"

"I'm not that hungry, but thanks."

He doesn't miss a beat. "I'll treat you."

"We've been over this, you don't have to—"

"Consider it payment for the exams I wouldn't have passed without you."

"You already got me chips and stuff."

"And now I'm getting you lunch. Come on." He guides you very deliberately towards the food court. "If you actually need to use the bathroom I'll let you escape, but if you hide there until we leave I'm picking food for you and buying it anyway."

"You're insane."

"You're stuck with me," he retorts, and, well, you don't have anything to say to that.

~

You get the Shunsai Curry and Noya gets a slice of pizza. He'd raised an eyebrow at you picking the cheapest thing on the menu, but let it slide when you pointed out it was a meal and you could have just refused to eat anything but gelato.¹⁸

He'd then insisted that afterwards, you get gelato. You'd insisted that he not buy you gelato. You've compromised, and now you're sitting across from him with a cup of gelato.

12:42. Be back at the bus in thirteen minutes. Give five minutes to walk, or three if you're willing to run, which Noya might be but you're not. Finish the gelato by 12:50. Easy enough, if you could make yourself take a bite.

"You alright?"

900 yen for the curry. 350 yen for the gelato. He's spent 1,250 yen on you in the past thirty-two minutes.¹⁹

Another glance at your phone. 12:43. You're going to be late getting back if you don't eat the stupid gelato, and you can't waste it. Not when he spent 350 yen on it.

This is so fucking stupid.

"[name]-san?"

A hand waves in your field of vision. You blink, snapping back into reality. Noya finished his gelato sometime between the walk from the stand to the table, while you haven't even tasted yours.

"Sorry," you mumble. You don't elaborate.

"I asked if you were alright. You're glaring at the gelato even harder than you were glaring at your book earlier."

"Oh. Sorry."

"One more apology, and I'm buying you a souvenir—"

"Stop," you snap, the anger startling even you. "Stop wasting money on me, Noya-senpai. You don't have to—I'm not a charity case, you know?"

He flinches a little, settles back in his chair. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Aren't you? I'm not—I'm not destitute or anything, I just—I mean—Otoo-san has money, I could have just asked for money to spend on the way back, it's not—"

"I didn't think you were," he says slowly. "Poor, or anything like that. I mean, I've seen your house."

"Exactly!" you bite out as the first tears slip down your cheeks. "You've seen my house. You're probably just—I mean, everyone in the neighborhood probably knows that—"

He slips back into that gentle tone from before, the cat-coaxing tone like you're some scared animal. "Hey. Why are you crying? I'm sorry."

You drop your head, stab the gelato almost too hard with your spoon. "Do you seriously not know?"

"You're really going to have to elaborate for me to have any idea what you're talking about."

"…let's do this. Why do you go out of your way to be nice to me and buy me stuff?"

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen and I like being around you," he says, beginning to count on his fingers. "I'd say we've become friends, seeing as you actually started calling me Noya-senpai when I asked you to and we talk a lot, and I like doing things for my friends. Especially when they're pretty girls."

"…do you have a lot of pretty girls as friends?"

"Just the one!" He doesn't miss a beat. "Not only that, but a good senpai takes care of his underclassmen. It's my job to buy you and Shouyo ice cream and nikuman! Hm, what else… oh! Because I wanna spoil you! I said this before, but you've got a really nice smile, and even though you always try to stop me from spending money on you, you usually smile and you always thank me, which feels really nice."

Unbelievable. Actually unbelievable. Everyone in the fucking neighborhood knew about it. You spent weeks getting cards and flowers and fruit plates from well-meaning strangers. You stopped going to the closest grocery store because the owner kept giving you a pitying look and mysteriously forgetting to charge you for a few things. The only butcher shop you're willing to attend is because the owner has never even once commented on it, even though you're certain she knows. And Noya has no idea. "Is that seriously it?"

"Oh! Also because I don't think anyone should have to skip lunch just because they don't happen to have any money on them. I've got the extra to feed you, and Okaa-san and Jii-chan are both huge on the whole 'if someone goes hungry, you're failing them' deal. So right now I'm also feeding you because it's the right thing to do."

You study him carefully. You're not sure Noya can lie—he's refreshingly, frustratingly open at all times. He doesn't ever hold back. Even for stupid things like transparently trying to get you to let him try your cooking, he just admits to it when you confront him.

"…how good are you at keeping secrets?"

"Satsuki, my sister, has gotten into something like twenty fights in her lifetime and our mom has never heard of a single one of them. Does that mean anything?"

Fuck it. You've already broken down in public. "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

He blinks slowly. "Yes. Absolutely. Why?"

"I… I'll tell you about it, but we really don't have the time right now, and I don't want to talk about it in front of everyone else in the club, so…"

"Dinner, then." He grins. Pats your head.  "Eat your gelato quick and try to get the sniffles out so we can run back to the bus without anyone asking any questions. I'll let you run my phone battery down with full access to the Soba albums once we're back."

You obey quietly: wipe your tears, eat your gelato. Noya checks his phone while you freeze your brain, and at 12:52, the two of you run back to the bus and pile into your seats at exactly 12:55.

Once again, you underestimated him.

Footnotes

18. In draft one of this chapter, I mixed up Nekoma and Shinzen's locations, so I laid out this whole itinerary for getting back from the weekend training camp to Miyagi and researched rest stops along the route they were most likely to take and settled on one in Tochigi before remembering that Nekoma was NOT the school based in Saitama and Karasuno would take a totally different route home. I had to re-write this section to accurately go off of what was available at the rest stop they would actually stop at, which makes me deeply sad for two reasons. One: the rest stop in Tochigi had lemon milk, which is now the second food item I have an aching urge to try someday as a result of research for this fic. Two: the sentence that originally started this scene was, "You get a karaage bowl and Noya gets the hamburger steak", which I personally prefer the general rhythm of. Unfortunately, neither of these items were on the menu at the rest stop they're actually at.

19. At time of editing, this comes out to about $8.55 USD. Just so we're clear about how much Noya's ruining his financial future with all this big spending. Prices taken from the menus on the linked site in footnote 18.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[ahordeofwasps]

Find the Word Tag

I've been tagged by the amazing @space-writes! Thanks for the tag! My words are travel, away, home and sleep. I'll be sharing excerpts from Crying Wolf!

But first, the no pressure tags! I'll be tagging @talesofsorrowandofruin, @sarandipitywrites, @notwritinganyflufftoday, @tabswrites, and open tag! Your words are embark, dark, spark, and mark!

Now, onto Crying Wolf!

Travel & Sleep

“What brings you to this hamlet?” Ogwut asked. He held his mug of ale pinched between two fingers. Every now and then, he would bring the mug up underneath his cowl and have a sip, draining it dry. He had to refill his mug between every sip. Ciro shrugged. “Just looking for work, I guess,” he answered, staring into his half-empty mug. There was a scream. He took a large gulp of his ale and looked up at Ogwut. “Uh… what about you?” “I’m a minstrel,” Ogwut said, “Travelling suits me.” Ciro nodded. Another rabbit screamed. “Right,” he said, looking back down at his ale. “So… uh… nice weather we’re having.” Ogwut beamed. “Yes, it has been! Yesterday was delightful! I spent a long time staring at the Sun! It was most revitalizing.” Ciro frowned. “Uhh… okay,” he said. The conversation was dying. This was not how friends were made. At least, not from what Ogwut observed of the process. He needed to find some kind of common ground. Something to spark a lively discussion. “Are there any revitalizing activities that you enjoy?” “I sleep?”

Away

The space was too cramped and there was no way Ogwut could move fast enough to escape. So, he did the only thing he could. He shot out his hand, blocking Chadwick and pushing him away. “Back! Back, I tell you! Please, for your own sake, back!” he shouted. The constant chatter of the tavern quieted as dozens of eyes gawked at him and Chadwick both. Ogwut hoped that someone would intervene. That someone would peel Chadwick away and let him leave in peace. But he knew better. No one ever intervened. They only watched, too awestruck to do anything until it was too late.

Home

“So, you had a bit of an unfortunate encounter with some wolves. They killed you and dragged your body to their ‘den,’ which is here. I used to let a wolf pack live here as they made good company! But then they brought you here! A human! Dead, but with your brain intact! Even better company! The wolves brought a potential friend home! It’s been over six hundred and six years since I had a friend. Anyways, I terminated the wolves. Most of your body was in terrible condition - many of your internal organs were unsalvageable. But that was okay! Your brain was salvageable! I mean, the cells were pretty much dead, but they were all there! You humans are always so delicate. So, with your old body being absolutely useless, I built you a new body! A better body! A body that doesn’t need to breathe oxygen! And now I’ve got your brain all patched up and alive, you’re alive! You can be my friend! Will you be my friend?”

[estrellami-1]

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

For @madigoround

If Eddie is being honest with himself—which is something he always tries to do—then he thinks it probably started during Spring Break.

No… it definitely started during Spring Break. “For your modesty?” What the hell, past Eddie? And, he notes, he hadn’t actually gotten his vest back. Dammit. He spent a lot of time on his battle vest.

So, okay. Spring Break. Which is an absolutely shit time to discover you have feelings for someone. Which is probably why his brain buried it. And kept it buried. Until, roughly, the moment he and Steve are standing in Steve’s kitchen, helping Robin with drinks.

And sure, they’re standing way too close. But it’s still Steve Harrington, so his brain keeps the feelings buried.

Then he stays over that night, because why not, and wakes up in the middle of the night to Steve screaming.

Not just that; he’s screaming Eddie’s name.

He jumps out of bed, barely avoiding getting caught by the sheets. He doesn’t know what’s going on—almost doesn’t want to know what’s going on, based on that past spring—but he barges into Steve’s room anyways, eyes wide and wild, scanning for the threat.

Nothing.

Nothing physical, he internally amends, because Steve’s definitely in the throes of a nightmare.

Eddie is lost. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to help, only knows what he does which probably isn’t going to help in this situation, he doesn’t even know if touching him will help or not-

He touches him. Gently, on his shoulder, barely nudging him. “Hey, Steve,” he murmurs. “Hey, it’s okay.” Nothing, so he says his name again, a little bit louder, then a third time.

It doesn’t seem to help, but about a minute later Steve sits up with a gasp, sending Eddie skittering back because he does not want to be within arm’s range right now, he’s seen Steve’s right hook and doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.

It’s dark in his room, and Eddie belatedly realizes that he’s backlit from the window, since the light from the hallway is landing on the bed. “Hey,” he murmurs again, hands up, like he’s calming a wild animal. “Hey, you’re okay. Just a dream, Steve.” He continues to speak calmly, clocking the way Steve’s breath continues to come in sharp gasps, clocking the way his eyes flit to the nail bat, just behind Eddie.

Eventually Steve calms down enough to hear Eddie’s voice, and he’s immediately shaking his head. “Oh, god, no, no, that’s not possible, you’re- you’re dead, I watched you die-”

“Didn’t die, Stevie,” Eddie promises him, coaxes him back down again. Offers pancakes, of all things, because Eddie’s brain is an impulsive bastard on the best of days.

It gets Steve to smile, though, so he counts it as a win, shoving down the little fluttery feeling in his diaphragm (which, why are butterflies always described as being in the stomach when they clearly aren’t, whoever named them had an awful concept of the human body).

He shoves the feeling even lower when he follows Steve back to his room after, climbs in the other side of the bed, breathing steadily as Steve falls back asleep.

He awakens when Steve does, because somehow, sometime during the night, they’d moved together, Eddie flat on his back and Steve on his stomach, head tucked into Eddie’s neck, arm across his abdomen, and one leg over both of his. They’re cuddling, there’s not really another name for it, and Eddie’s brain alerts him the second Steve moves, so he sees the adorable (what the fuck, brain) squint on Steve’s face when he tries to figure out, still half-asleep, what’s going on. Eddie asks him a question and he takes an adorably (again, brain, why) long time to process and answer with a shake of his head, so Eddie gently coaxes him to lay down again.

It’s not even a conscious decision to put his hand through Steve’s hair, his hand just does it, but it works to relax Steve so he continues, scratching lightly at his scalp and letting out the barest huff of a laugh when it causes Steve to hum. He really is cute, Eddie’s brain thinks out of nowhere, and he freezes for a solid forty-eight seconds as he tries to process that thought.

And the thing is, his brain isn’t wrong. Objectively, Steve Harrington is a beautiful individual. Everyone, including Steve, knows it. So Eddie thinks that’s all it is, his brain just catching up, especially since he sought Eddie out for comfort. That’s a thing, right? Like ducklings imprinting. Except instead of a duckling it’s a guy a little bit younger with him with more trauma than he has.

That’s totally a thing, he thinks, and then doesn’t think about it again.

Until Steve wakes up again. They make a fucking pact, saying they can call each other whenever, and Eddie’s traitorous brain has to confirm that he can call Steve too. And Steve, serious as anything, confirms.

Three nights pass—not that Eddie’s counting—before he wakes up gasping, tears in his eyes and a desperate whine in his throat. He’s grabbing for his phone before he realizes, dialing the number he’d memorized without trying. “Come over?” He asks when Steve answers.

“Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

Eddie promises to unlock the door. He does so, then sits on a couch in a daze, still halfway stuck in the dream. He flinches when the door opens, even though he rationally knows it’s just Steve.

“Hey,” Steve says.

Eddie squeezes his sleep pants. “Hey.”

Then Steve breaks the script, saying, “I was about to call you,” and Eddie’s heart plummets even as his breathing picks up.

Somehow they end up with Eddie on top of Steve. Their arms are locked around each other, Eddie’s vaguely reminiscent of his leg being put into a hold, which he pressed into (what the fuck, brain), and his nose is shoved into Steve’s throat as his tears begin to lessen.

He feels something wet on his forehead, realizes Steve had been crying too, and conversely feels better about the whole thing. They end up giggling like kids, half-hysterical, arms still around each other but no longer squeezing, and Eddie doesn’t miss the touch as much as he usually does when they finally part.

He knows Wayne’s got the night shift, which is the only reason he thinks to grab his guitar in the first place. Steve readily agrees, which should not make his heart skip a beat the way it does, what the fuck, but he grabs it and starts playing, first the “Master of Puppets” intro he’d been working on, then just playing around for a bit until he hits on a melody that he thinks could work for the song he’s writing, hang on-

But Steve’s there, laying with his head off the edge of the bed, which should not be as endearing as it is, get with the program, brain, but Steve says yes, says he think’s Eddie’s a genius, and-

Oh, fuck. Not again.

Eddie’s been in his fair share of quickies, in the bathroom or behind the bar or God-knows-what, just straight guys trying to get it out of their system, and he’s an easy target and he knows it, all sharp lines and angles with hair like a girl’s, and he even flags for fuck’s sake, and he knows what desire feels like, is the point.

This… isn’t that. Well, it’s not just that. There’s definitely desire, but it’s low-level, overrun by the keep protect hold keep mine cherish thrumming through his veins like a dragon.

He’s falling for a straight man. And he doesn’t think he wants to stop. He’s not a complete idiot; he knows Robin is a friend of Dorothy’s too, knows that Steve knows she is, knows that he doesn’t treat her any differently for it. So he (probably) won’t treat Eddie any differently, either.

Eddie decided to bury it deep down and just not ever think about it again ever.

Then Steve brings him breakfast, and he really has no chance.

And listen. He knows they were both leaning in. He knows Steve was looking at him with something close to adoration shining in his eyes.

He knows kissing Steve is a bad idea. So he pulls back.

Until El, and Dustin, and the entire fucking Party demand cheek kisses, and, well, this is right up Eddie’s alley, isn’t it?

So he gets a kiss, and he gives a kiss, and suddenly it’s a thing, and they’re doing it when it’s just them alone in Eddie’s trailer or Steve’s house or once—accidentally, it was a reflex, thank fuck the store was empty—in Family Video.

Then Steve calls again, breath hitching, and Eddie’s instantly awake even if his voice isn’t, rough and low, and he hears the doubt in Steve’s voice, trying to play it off, and that won’t stand. “I’m coming over,” he says, and it’s not a question, and then he needs Steve to know it’s okay, and his brain blurts out, “I’m glad you called.”

There’s something in Steve’s voice giving him pause as he grabs his keys, ends up grabbing a stack of blankets too, tossing them into the back of his van before turning the ignition.

He silently berates himself the entire drive over, because what the fuck, brain, that was not a straight thing to say, and he’d practically panicked and ended the call before either of them could say anything else.

He drives over, grabs the spare, and lets himself in. Lets himself look. The way Steve’s sitting before he knocks, with his legs up to his chest and his arms looped around his knees, chin on one knee, staring blankly into the distance. How he shifts and begins to open up when he sees Eddie, but Eddie knows him, knows that line of tension, and takes him for a drive.

He doesn’t comment on the Harrington stretched across the back of his shoulders from the hoodie Steve had tossed at him.

He doesn’t comment on the Dio playing, talking about running away. Doesn’t comment on them holding hands. Doesn’t comment when Steve begins to nod along to the songs.

Just smiles when they pull up to the field. Tells Steve he has blankets, and they can sit or lay, or he can run, and he sees the grateful look in Steve’s eyes before he takes off running, going around the field almost twice before slowing to a jog and cutting across, a beeline headed directly for Eddie and the blankets.

His hand touches Steve’s hip. Their hands touch.

Steve starts crying, starts saying how their friendship has to end, and Eddie’s heart plummets. “I think I’m in love with you,” Steve whispers, and Eddie’s heart stops entirely before restarting.

He manages a laugh, a joke, “I thought I was falling for a straight boy,” and the way Steve smiles at him, so full of hope and wonder and love-

Keep protect hold keep mine cherish, says the dragon inside of Eddie, and as their lips meet, Eddie agrees.

Song

Just in case y’all want to be tagged (and let me know if you want to be tagged for the song reveal, I’ll tag unless told otherwise):

@thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @the-redthread @tiny-enthusiast @thatonepotatochild @maya-custodios-dionach @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @vhelt @newtstabber @huskysarelife @singmeyoursimpsong @gaysonthefloor @darkwitchoferie @vi-an-te @kato-hoeven @biatcgh @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @awesomeimportantfan @oreos-ate-my-balls @theotalksalot @raysreads

[warlordess]

live and let live

My first (technically pre-)Steddie fic! Yay! Please share, maybe follow me, if you like it. I don't contribute a ton of original content but I do have, like, a dozen ideas for ST/Steddie/Stobin fics that I may work up the courage to type out and share.

TW: Vomiting (a couple times throughout), vaguely interpretable suicidal ideation (just Eddie thinking everyone's better off leaving him behind in the UD). Some mention of blood/injury to varying extents (to be expected considering the setting). I believe that's all for TWs but please inform me if you think there's anything else. I'm really new to this kind of tagging.

Tagging my ST fic bestie, @ataliagold (and hoping that using the term bestie is appropriate; if not then whoops, I take it back). They've been very supportive when it comes to my writing. They wanted to know when I finally posted my first fic.

---

Eddie Munson is jarred suddenly back to life not long after he initially left it behind. 

He shudders through one faint, ailing breath, then the next, staring blurrily up through half-lidded eyes at the black and red skies streaked with lighting strikes he can hardly discern. Whimpers and convulses at ricocheting shocks of the most intense pain he's ever felt. Absorbs the sight of the multitude of blurry shadows leaning over his bloody, broken corpse. 

It takes him far too long, or maybe not long at all, to realize he's being touched rather insistently, hands pressing against every open wound, which honestly feels like every inch of him, presumably hoping to cause him as much turmoil as possible. So focused on the agony lancing through his entire being, he doesn't notice the singular voice carrying into one of his ears and out the other before he starts sinking into darkness once more. 

"Hey! I just got you going again!" A hand taps adamantly (nearly slaps) against one of his cheeks, but what really does the job is the resounding series of shots ringing into the distance from what his barely functioning brain can only assume is a double-barreled shotgun. "So don't you fucking dare, Munson!" A brief weighted pause before the potentially disembodied voice continues their agitated muttering. "Christ's sake! I gave you both one fucking job, man!" 

Things are starting to come back to him despite the internal hope that he'll just be able to lay back and rest, finally. 

The shotgun. Nancy. 

The red skies. The Upside Down. 

His one job. 

The distraction. Not the hero. 

A bolt of alarm shoots across his brain. 

"H'rin… ton…" The slurred approximation of the surname barely makes it past his lips, has to gasp for breath after. 

Christ, even talking hurts to do. 

Despite that, he wills himself to continue. To come back to himself. To ask the all-important question in this moment. 

"Dus'n… okay?" 

He can just make out the familiar thick head of hair of the ousted king of Hawkins High through eyes still watering from his radiating pains, sees the slightly colored shadow slow in their harried movements as if to stare down at him. He dares to wonder if Steve's eyes soften at the question, knowing that even in death, Eddie's heart is in the right(?) place. 

Steve doesn't have the opportunity to speak before a loud throaty sniffle from Eddie’s other side catches their ears. 

"Y - you asshole, Eddie…" Dustin whispers. It likely would have been a wail if he hadn't spent a significant amount of time and energy a short time ago screaming for help. As it stands, his voice is about as hoarse as it can get without him losing it altogether. "Can't believe you… How could you do that to me?" 

Eddie doesn't have an answer, or maybe he does as far as his own question goes. If he'd been in a better state of mind he might have mocked Steve's position in the group by calling the boy out for his foul language, however it's clear the situation has offered their youngest party member a pass while they focus on more important things. 

"Steve, we have to go, I'm running low on ammo. And who knows how long the gates back to Hawkins will hold," a more distant voice informs them.

Steve inhales a stuttering breath before his expression returns to firmly grim. There's more shuffling, maneuvering around, tying off what Eddie can only assume are the parts of his body that still attempt to form a whole and he screeches his agony to the thundering scarlet clouds above. Though it comes out more of a cough before he wrenches his head to the side and vomits right there. It lasts a fair few seconds before tapering off into a dry heave. 

"Ergh, Steve!" a fourth voice practically shouts, presumably in response to this event.

Eddie tries to blink his vision clear again, wondering what happened, but his action is waved off by their next step.

"It's fine, Robs. Like Nance says, we don't have time. We have to get going. I'll take Eddie; you help Dustin." 

“Wuss wr’ng ith Dus’n…?” Because he's coming up blank.

“Not now, don’t worry; he’s fine, Eddie.”

He's not sure if he fades away again or not, time seems to span far and wide beyond his comprehension at present. All he knows is that, some insurmountable length of it later, he feels the weight of his every pound of flesh tear away from him as he's turned and lifted up, one arm hoisted over a broad set of shoulders. The sound that claws and curdles its way from his grated and parched throat sounds so inhumane that he thinks the demobats must have returned to finish the job they somehow failed at the first time around. 

In such duress, in such intense suffering, with the stench of his own sick somehow following him around, it's impressive he doesn't puke a second time, even though he falls entirely limp, waters from his eyes and drools out of his open mouth. 

"Fuck, c'mon, man." Steve's voice murmurs softly into his ear before he grunts and tries to even out Eddie's dead weight distribution. "I know this isn't how you wanted to end your day but too bad." Another grunt, a prevailing exhale. "I need you to keep one leg a little sturdy so you don't immediately fall if I lose our balance. Just one, c’mon; help me out a little." 

The logic is sound, or it would be if Eddie was still a semi-functioning human. But every part of him is in tatters, nothing left untouched, so he ends up basically being dragged like luggage across the semi-familiar terrain. He blacks out momentarily once or twice, maybe expires again, but Steve is hyper-aware of his every lack of breath, jostling him just enough to reawaken him as needed.

“... Don’t have time for you to die, Munson, let’s go,” King Steve commands of him. Other voices are filtering in again too.

“Steve, you two are falling behind, you have to keep up!” Nancy.

“Doing our best!” Steve grunts in reply.

“Steve, your wounds…” Robin.

“It’s fine, I told you,” Eddie can hear the person closest to him - Who is it…? He knew this answer a short while ago, he’s certain - breathing a little more harshly now. “We all gotta make… sacrifices at the end of the world…”

“Mmm, you h'rt'ng for me, H’rington…?” The words leave Eddie’s mouth with a corner-lipped smirk.

“Yup, for you, man, whatever it takes. Just stay awake. We can’t stop to resuscitate you again until we’re outta the Upside Down.”

Holy shit; that’s it then. He really did die. It had been an abstract truth up until now. After all, how does one know when they've perished unless someone is there to inform them of the event? The cold, hard fact settles in his gut like a stone, rattling around and becoming the only thing he can focus on until he's forcibly distracted.

"Shit!" Steve curses with a harsh gasp, his grip on Eddie going momentarily lax as he stumbles.

Eddie can still barely make anything out of his surroundings but he knows two things instantly; one is that the ground is coming up on him faster than he can handle and two is that whatever standard throb of agony that had enveloped him before immediately increased tenfold.

His following shout escapes him despite his efforts to bite down and bear the burden of his misery. Somewhere in the middle of his latest howling episode, he feels another wave of bile rake its way up his esophagus and spew from between his lips just as Steve regains his hold and tries to right them. He has half a second to notice that he tastes more copper than he should before he's interrupted.

"Shit! Sorry… M'sorry, fuck; Eddie, y'okay?" Steve pushes them back into upright positions and Eddie does what he can to breathe through the oncoming spasms. He braces himself through the foreboding thought that his apparent savior appears to be slurring his words too. That's likely not a point in their favor.

"Steve, Eddie! Oh man, that's so much blo-!" Dustin blubbers. Doesn't appear to move any closer though.

"It's fine, m'fine, we're all 'kay," he says all in one rushed breath, "L'ess just keep g'ing, like I said before, Dusty, we're all gonna… make t'out." His grip on Eddie's wasted body grows ever tighter, as if doing so further impresses upon them all his oath.

But Eddie can't see it. Can't really see anything at present. All he knows is anguish. Empty words. The encroaching presence of Death's door beckoning him. This group of people already clearly struggling to survive but slowing their progress ever more just to try and see him out too. He can't let them. He can't let them waste their precious limited time on him.

Nancy falls back, grip on her shotgun slackening just so, inspects them both with furrowed brows and a tense line across her forehead. This close, he can actually make out some details, such as the very brief nibble of her bottom lip, a faint fracture in her emotional armor before she puts distance between them and offers a grim nod. 

It's clear that the prognosis isn't great but she's not giving up on them either.

"You're both fine so we keep moving. Make sure you keep up. We're close to the exit."

That leaves it all up to him then.

"J'st… leave'm." He hurtles through the statement so fast, he's unsure if they'll understand. But they need to so he'll say it however many times it takes. Even until his dying breath.

"... What?" Dustin practically whimpers in disbelief. "No!"

"M'done. Dying… dead… wh'tever… Can't let y'guys get… tr'pped here." His vision, what's left of it, wavers in and out and Steve notices, jostles him again, snapping him back to the present.

"Eddie, c'mon, we don't have time to fight over this, dumbass!" Robin reasons with him. "We don't leave our people behind so you're coming with us!"

"N'then what?" he asks, tone sharper than he expects of himself, certain that had been bled from him already. He does what he can to blink away the blurred, darkening edges of his vision because he needs them to understand. "S'a waste. J'st gonna wind up… in jail… Or strung up… 'n th'streets by some… vig'lante mob. S'not worth saving me… S'just leave me here."

The group appears to erupt into chaos at this point.

"We're not gonna-!" 

"Eddie, you moron, we didn't come this far-!"

"Y'r not… listening here…"

"You're one of us, okay? So you're sticking with us-!"

"We know people, they can help maybe, we'll figure it out-!"

"It's a waste of time fighting now. Steve, just keep carrying him out. It's not like he can stop us-!"

"F'ckin' listen to me, d'mmit…" he grumbles, short of breath again now, but perhaps that's the panic attack from his only likely future (or lack thereof) pressing down on him from all sides.

"Shut up!" Steve's tone carries a grave definition, and their entire party stills rather impressively in response. "We're not fighting about this now. Eddie, we just got you back from the fucking dead. You're coming with us. We'll handle the rest."

"But…"

"You do not get to die here. You don't. You don't get to hurt the rest of us that way." And then, after a brief pause, he twists the knife. "Unless you plan to run away like a coward."

Ice drips down to the base of Eddie's spine at that. After everything he'd endured, he deserved his rest, despite it being potentially eternal… but hadn't he already said he wouldn't be that guy anymore…? So then did he have a metaphorical leg to stand on in this argument?

"... S'not worth g'ing back."

"You don't know that, man. This is your first rodeo and, yeah, things weren't looking great before. But, like Dustin said, we know people and they've helped clean up after the Upside Down b'fore. If they can't work it out then we'll save you ourselves. We've 'lready done it up til now, haven't we?"

"Can't… ask that f'ya, man." He's practically suffocating from everything already and trying to think of anything beyond the here and now only exacerbates his condition. "S'is easier to j'st let me go. J'st--"

"Shut your mouth, dumbass, we're done talking about it. Nance, Robs, Dustin, let's move out."

"H'rington, wha' gives you th'right to-!"

"Because, asshole, we're in this shitstorm together until the end. You don't get to clock out early!" And then, as the final nail in the coffin, "If you die, then I die! We all die! It's all or none of us!"

A stark, stagnant silence weighs them all down instantaneously at that. Not to be deterred, Steve strengthens his grip on his apparently unwilling cohort and stalks forward toward their destination, casting a furtive glance at Dustin that Eddie doesn't understand as they pass him and the others.

And Eddie… What can he say to that kind of line? Especially coming from King Steve 'The Hair' Harrington himself? Once again, he's struck with the profound knowledge that this isn't the guy he remembered sharing the Hawkins High School halls with. 

All that being considered, he thinks such a declaration merits a response, and he can't help feeling moved - perhaps even tempered - by it. So he musters up his meager strength and delivers unto his savior his final decision.

"... Th'n I guess… we'll live."

---

I'm a huge fan of callbacks to earlier intense/emotional moments in canon so, when the thought came to me of having Steve use Dustin's line to urge Eddie to continue living, it wouldn't leave me alone.

This is the first thing I've written in a good year, and I only wrote maybe 15k words around then, and hadn't written for a good 5 or so years leading up to it. So, uh, please understand I tried my best for now, clearing the cobwebs. Hopefully it all came together fine.

I'm open to continuing in this "universe", maybe going from pre-Steddie vibes to full-on Steddie. This was just the original premise and I wanted to get it out there. I doubt anything else I write will feel all that "unique" in regards to this scenario (since lots of people have written Eddie-survives fics).

Like I said at the start, please like/reblog, let me know what you think, maybe follow me if you can manage to put up with my mess of a blog that is not 100% Steddie. It will all encourage me to continue my dumpster dive into this ship/fandom.

[aprillikesthings]

I am still a little obsessed with this

I had an idea for a Catradora fic like a year ago and ugggh I'd need to rewatch the whole show to do it any justice and I dunno if I have the patience

Anyway have some barely-edited info-dumping I did last March in a tiny discord server for a completely different cartoon ship*:

The other night when I couldn't sleep it occurred to me that there could/should be a very realistic fic out there of catra and adora, after the events of the last season, having a very passionate but over-dramatic relationship for a couple of years, then breaking up and getting back together multiple times before one or both of them decides Actually, we have to break up, for real, we are slowly killing each other over this; and one of them moves away and they both get therapy of some kind and both try dating other people but it just isn't working out (I can absolutely see Adora in a relationship that's perfectly fine and healthy but also boring as fuck, and her just thinking: huh, I guess normal people are supposed to feel like this? but it just feels like it's missing something, but the thing it's missing might just be a lot of arguing and crying and make-up sex, so like, I should just. stop missing that. probably. And Catra ending up in a bunch of short-term things where all of them end with either the other person going dude you are in love with someone else and I can tell or her feeling guilty and breaking it off bc the other person is obviously more into her than vice-versa)

And anyway after like ten years or something they see each other but one or both is still dating someone else and it's like ha ha our younger days were SOMETHING ELSE weren't they, oh did you get therapy oh good me too, I'm glad you're doing well, nice to bump into you :) but they're both internally screaming because yeah those feelings are Still There, fuck fuck fuck

The current partner of whichever of them dumps them bc "you're still in love with your ex" but neither of them say why the dump happened and the dumped one doesn't say anything to the other, which means they hear about it through the grapevine, and their heart goes YOOOOO and their brain goes "I thought we were actually done with this and being Good about it fuck fuck fuck" and theyre both :) still normal to each other :) all the time :)

PINING I love pining hhh lol

But yeah there's, I dunno. A party? with a lot of people? maybe they each have one (1) drink, not even enough to impair them, and the next thing you know they're making out in a closet or something somewhere, and then one or both of them is crying hysterically, and after a lot of talking they're like, I want to try again. But as actual adults who've had time to grow up and have a lot of therapy. So they do, and it's good, and all their friends are like Oh thank god you two are both the stupidest motherfuckers on earth.

Halfway through the first post I realized I am half re-writing one of my fave Sherlock fics but putting it on top of She-Ra characters and adapting it to spop's plot but it'S JUST A GOOD STORy and honestly how it would actually happen

Because they were SO YOUNG in the show and neither of them had ever seen a healthy relationship modeled, ever, by anyone; and they're both heavily traumatized on top of it. And love isn't always be enough to deal with all of that. It's just not.

Me: this would make a good romance novel if we could file off the serial numbers

Also me: it's only interesting to me because it's THESE CHARACTERS like how the fuck would you include the backstory lolol

My dumb brain is like, "look I know spop ended three years ago and also, this is obviously the kind of story that AN ACTUAL ADULT writes, generally speaking; so nobody would read it, but what if you spent a year writing this"

But also half the plot feels like it's lifted from The Speed of Objects in Motion by holyfant (linked above) which is still, easily, one of my top-two Sherlock fics of all time, bc it's just so painfully realistic--they do end up together again at the end, but there's a lot off off-again/on-again and arguing and then a few years they're not together in the meantime

Anyway, re: spop: Fate and destiny are great but real happily ever afters would be so hard with everything that lead up to the end of the series

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

>:( at myself for being like "oh it would take a year to write this" bc if I had actually done it I would be done by now pfffffft

(*Amedot)

[melishade]

Number 78?

This ask game

asked so far.

Hey look, more Dark Timeline Stuff. Optimus, Gabi and Porco being imprisoned together by Shockwave in Part 5

Optimus continued to stare up at the dark ceiling of Shockwave's ship, ignoring the pain and agony that he was in. He pulled at the restraints holding his limbs, but they wouldn't budge from the electric cuff binding him to the berth. He needed more strength and he didn't have much left to spare.

The Prime had lost track of how many days he had been stuck on Shockwave's ship, and he had no idea if the Survey Corps and Megatron had returned to the island safely. From his observations and Shockwave's mannerisms, he didn't think Shockwave had them. And if Shockwave didn't, then the Prime couldn't help but be grateful.

However, he wasn't the only prisoner of Shockwave.

Optimus turned his helm to the side to see Gabi and Porco in their prisons: small glass containers with little room to even stretch their legs. The Prime saw how loose their clothes were and how hollow their faces looked. Both were malnourished and weak. Shockwave no doubt had uses for them, but the fact that he was starving them was cruel and ineffective on the mad scientist's part. Gabi was still awake, her face stained with dry tear marks, but Porco's body was completely unconscious, spent from the experiments Shockwave had done to him. He's been unconscious for hours, and he didn't know if he was dead at this point due to his condition. His regeneration was-!

Porco screamed in fear as he jolted awake, scaring Gabi and causing Optimus to flinch. "What happened?! Where am I?!"

"Porco, you are alright," Optimus reassured calmly, "You are still alive."

Porco seemed to calm down as he took in his surroundings and remembered where he was. He looked over at Optimus and sneered before turning around and hunching his back in his cramped space.

"Porco-!"

"Damn it, Gabi! I'm not in the mood to talk!" Porco snapped at her.

"But-!" Gabi recoiled at Porco's outburst.

"Gabi, leave him be," Optimus advised her, causing Porco to blink in confusion.

Gabi glanced back at Porco before slumping against the glass of her own prison in defeat. Optimus then turned his attention to the ceiling once more, trying to remember Shockwave's patterns and habits. He knew Shockwave was methodical, but even he has made the occasional slip up. There has to be something in his routine that would allow an opening for all three of them to escape.

"Um...sir..." Optimus turned to the sound of Gabi weakly calling out to him.

"What's....what's a Matrix?" She had timidly asked, "And who's Primus and Unicron?"

Right, the conversations that he and Shockwave have had no doubt left the girl confused about the logistics and creation of their home world. "It is...a long and complicated story, Gabi."

"...please," Gabi begged in a whisper, "Please tell me."

Optimus stared into her pleading eyes and felt pity for her. She needed a distraction. She needed a distraction from the pain and torment of her current situation. "Alright then."

Porco couldn't help but glance back in suspicion.

"In the beginning of the universe, there was 'The One': an amorphous being of light created by the universe's chaotic creation. It had traveled the universe, seeing both the creation and destruction of said universe. Over time, The One had experienced internal conflict within it's being. Part of The One believed that the life created in this vast universe was sacred. It deserved to live, it deserved to be protected. There was beauty in what was created and had every right to exist and be free. However, the other half of The One, saw no use in living and creation. It saw everything as weaker than it, frailer than it. It found no point in existence and living if everything was eventually fated to die. No being should suffer the cruelty of living and waste their life, only to have everything they ever worked for destroyed by the ravages of time. The One could not handle the every growing conflict raging within its very being. It ended up tearing itself apart until The One split into two beings. Primus: the god of creation, and Unicron: the god of destruction."

Optimus noticed the way that Gabi was enamored with his story telling and continued. "Unicron and Primus went their separate ways, and Unicron started to enact his plan to destroy all life in the universe. Primus saw the destruction his brother was causing and swore to stop him at all costs. The had battled for eons to come, evenly matched in their might and battle prowess. Primus knew that he could not face Unicron alone, so he used his power to create thirteen unique beings called 'Primes'."

"What were they like?" Gabi asked, "What were their names?"

"There was Prima: the leader of the Primes. Vector: a Prime that could control and rewrite time. Alpha Trion was a historian, who wrote both past and future events. Onyx was an animalistic Prime, who held features that would resemble that of a dragon. Nexus was a combiner: a being made up of five other Cybertronians. Alchemist was something of a wizard, and that the ability to control organic elements. Micronus was small, but mighty, adorned with the gift of infinite energy at his disposal. Amalgamous was the first of our kind with the ability of transformation, never restricted to one form with his T-Cog. Solus was a forge master who could create weapons with a swing of her hammer. Quintus was the dreamer, a scientist who wanted to challenge what was possible in the universe. Liege Maximo was a Prime skilled with his words. Megatronus was a Prime of strength and fury. The last Prime, Thirteen, has little information recorded about him."

Optimus noticed the way that Gabi's expression was in awe. She was marveling the story he was telling. "Initially, there was tension and hostility amongst the Primes, but they had learned to come together and work as one. They learned of their strengths and weaknesses and how to protect each other. Together, the Thirteen had valiantly faced Unicron together. Their battle was not without struggle and close calls, but the Primes had shut down his spark and casted Unicron out. Not to be seen again until millions of eons later."

"That all sounds made up," Porco interjected, "What kind of bullshit nonsense is that?"

Optimus sighed a little. "Part of me wishes it was."

Porco was about to speak up, but Gabi straightened her back out. "Tell me more. Please?"

Optimus noticed the way her eyes shined with happiness before nodding to her. "Of course."

(So 80 has been asked, but the rest is free game.)

[yatsurinamikaze]

Deja Vu

Oikawa Tooru x Reader (angst, fluff)

Chapter 6

Another year slips by, and your internship is drawing to a close. Soon, you’ll begin your residency at a prestigious hospital. This past year has been a relentless roller-coaster for both of you. The internship has pushed you to the edge, leaving you exhausted and frayed, while Tooru’s schedule is more demanding than ever. The moments you share are rare and fleeting. By the time he gets home, you’re already lost in a deep, exhausted sleep. When he wakes up, you’re already preparing for your shift, arriving early to secure the best cases.

One night, you return to an apartment that feels emptier than usual. It’s been a particularly harrowing day. During your OB-GYN rotation, you assisted in delivering a baby after 14 grueling hours of labor. The moment you usually cherish—the baby’s first cry, a sound that signifies life and relief—never came.

You waited, gently patting the baby, desperate for that reassuring cry. But silence hung heavy in the room, transforming the mother’s agonizing screams into heart-wrenching cries of shock and loss. You had followed every protocol perfectly. What did I do wrong? You backed away, shaking your head, and fled to your locker, your scrubs stained with blood. After a shower, you went home, feeling trapped in your mind, thoughts spiraling uncontrollably.

You needed him. You needed Tooru, but he was in Italy for an international tournament. The following days didn’t get any easier. You struggled with even the simplest tasks at work—finding a vein for a drip, inserting a central line, intubating. Every time you tried to focus, the mother’s devastated face haunted you. Your mind was clouded with fear and doubt. Your resident noticed and, understanding that this happens to the best doctors, advised you to take some time off.

You spent days in bed, moving only for the barest necessities. The apartment felt colder, the silence deafening. You questioned everything—your life, your decisions, your relationship with Tooru. How long had it been since you last spoke? A month? Three? You couldn’t even remember.

One night, you lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, fighting back tears. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the ticking of a clock, each second amplifying your loneliness. You sighed and curled up, hugging a pillow. A tear slid down your cheek as you thought about all the lonely dinners, the late nights after exhausting shifts with no one to greet you. Where did it all go wrong? You always made time for each other. You were there. You took in a shaky breath. Of course, it’s nobody’s fault. You’re both young, still learning to juggle your busy lives, trying to live it all. It’s nobody’s fault.

Tooru came home a few days later, the excitement of seeing you evident in his hurried steps. But the moment he stepped inside, the sight of half-empty rooms greeted him. The smile on his face vanished when he saw your slouched, defeated figure on the couch. He rushed to you, his hands trembling as he gently cupped your face, tilting your head up. “What is it, Y/N?” His voice was soft, filled with worry, as he searched your empty eyes for answers.

“You don’t see me anymore, Tooru,” you whispered, placing your hands over his. “I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in his eyes, his heart breaking. “Don’t say that. It’s just you and me. I know things have been busy, but it’s you and me.”

You took a shaky breath, your voice trembling with emotion. “We’re not there for each other, Tooru. There’s no companionship.” He sighed deeply, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He dropped his hands and sat on the table in front of you. “Is there nothing we can do to fix this?”

Tears streaming down your face, you shook your head. “I need to work on myself, Tooru. I’m not doing well. I just... I need to, I can’t…” Your breathing became erratic, panic rising within you. Tooru grabbed your hands, his touch grounding you. “Hey, look at me. Breathe, okay? In, out.” You followed his lead, your breaths slowly steadying, but the pain remained.

After an hour of silence, broken only by the sound of your breathing, Tooru tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at you, seeing how fragile you had become, the light in your eyes dimmed by exhaustion and sorrow. You looked defeated, a shadow of the vibrant person he fell in love with. He wanted to help you through this, to be there for you, but he knew you needed to do it alone, even if it cost him his happiness. As long as you were happy, so was he. “You’ve made up your mind?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded weakly, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. Tooru mirrored your nod, accepting the inevitable, though it tore him apart.

And so, in the dim light of your once-shared home, with the silence deafening around you, you broke up.

Masterlist | Chapter 7