#just a kid and his hot cocoa

[saphicsol]

THE goofy goobers

[fluffypotatey]

Connected to my last ask but I wanted to separate bc it's a whole new issue

But, like you mentioned Arthur being a captain by 15, and the Druid raid we all know went so wrong, that he still blames himself for (yet the writers didn't follow through, AGAIN) and that had me wonder if he actually was to blame.

Like, he said he lost control of his men, but....I don't think that would happen. These would have been trained knights, probably all older than him, more experienced....and more loyal to Uther. They would know better than to disobey their Prince, bc that risks being punished by the King.

Unless they knew they wouldn't be in trouble.

I think that raid was a test, Uther seeing just how obedient his son was, if he was too "soft" on what he decided was the enemy. And if he was, he told the knights they were to finish the job themselves against Arthur's command, bc the only order that trumps Arthur's, is Uther's.

MHM MHM MHM BECAUSE YEAH

-----

arthur was still a teenageer, he was at the age where most are still considered squires (at least...i think so?) but obviously he went up the ranks faster because he's the prince. he was still finding his footing with his role as prince and heir to the throne. he was probably still holding on to this naivete about kingship that uther wanted to squash out of him.

arthur probably hasn't seen much of the purge other than trials and executions of alleged guilty sorcerers (which he probably believed to be fair trials). he has not yet seen the true disregard of empathy his father and the kingdom has towards magic users.

i am a firm believer that that raid arthur led was a test. and a test he almost passed because he told his men to "spare the women and children" but it is highly likely that uther had a contingency plan if arthur's raid didn't eradicate all of the druids from that settlement.

now, look at the episode's transcript (s4 ep10), arthur is immediately disturbed when he realizes where they are and when merlin explains the shrine to the knights as something built "to appease restless spirits" in an area.

[Arthur seems slightly disturbed as he looks at a red flag picking up in the breeze.]

and even later he seems so out of it

[Arthur stares into space has he absentmindedly unbuckles his bracers.]

it's like he, himself, is haunted by the memory. a memory he probably made himself forget because of how horrible it was. he's had this old memory locked away so tight but now that its back, now that arthur remembers, he can't help but go through the what ifs, and berate himself for not being experienced enough to stop his men.

gaius calls uther's raids "relentless", not even considering arthur himself in that description. this could be either because gaius is too used to uther's persecution that he assumes any magical persecution is uther or gaius knew (or had some semblance to know) that uther was the true one at fault for arthur's raid.

but back to arthur

KING ARTHUR (begins to cry) I am responsible for what happened to you. And for all the violence that happened here. When I led the attack on your camp, I was young and inexperienced. I was desperate to prove myself to my men, to my...father. KING ARTHUR (still crying) I told the men to spare the women and children, but I know that some of them ignored the order. And there was so much happening. I wanted to stop it...I froze. I didn't know what to do. KING ARTHUR (completely breaking down) I can still hear the screams. I cannot right this wrong. Nothing I can ever do will change the horrors that happened that day. But I can promise that, now that I am king, I will do everything that I can to prevent anything like this ever happening again. From this day forth, the Druid people will be treated with the respect they deserve. I give you my word.

uther how fucking dare you traumatize my boy like this

arthur can still hear the fucking screams....like shit.....that sound is burned into his memory, the blood, the smell of rot and possibly fire, everything about that day how he thought himself ready but froze when things began to go wrong.

did he think himself a coward when the day came to night after the raid? did he struggle to even put on the pendragon cape? did older knights creep behind him and try to remind him that this was his father's mission? did they speak to him with false sympathy as they told him that this was all for the good and safety of camelot?

so yeah that raid was something uther placed into the hands of an inexperienced child (reminder that he only turned 20/21 in s1 so he definitely led the raid in his teens) as a way to see if arthur would do what it took to prove himself worthy for his father.

[urhoneycombwitch]

common tongue of you lovin' me

🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut

🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k 

content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope

foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o

____

By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.

Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.

You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 

Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.

He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  

Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 

Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…

Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  

You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”

Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”

You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.

Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.

“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.

He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”

There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”

“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 

“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 

When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 

So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  

You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.

But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 

You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.

“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.

It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.

He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.

When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 

“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”

“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.

“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.

The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.

You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.

“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.

Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”

So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 

Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”

When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.

“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”

He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.

Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.

He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.

Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”

“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 

Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.

“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”

He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”

You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”

“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”

He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.

When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.

“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”

His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”

“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”

You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 

The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 

“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”

“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 

Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 

You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 

“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.

His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”

You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”

He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”

He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.

He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 

When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”

You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 

________

guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

[kettlefire]

The boy under the ice

He simply appear one winter day in Gotham. The water had already frozen over. Citizens alike surround the cold pond for a day of Winter festivities.

The Wayne family making a yearly appearance. Smiles and greets as hot cocoa and coffee was passed around to children and parents alike.

Some people skating across the frozen pond, while others enjoyed the snow. Building snowmen, and having intense rounds of snowball fighting.

Even in the darkness and dangerous that surrounded Gotham, everyone understood what today was. To put aside all problems and differences. To simply enjoy the seasonal change, spending time with your loved ones.

It was perfect. Until a piercing scream broke through the laughter and joy.

Cries of surprise and fear immediately followed. The people on the pond had quickly moved away in fear and disgust.

Bruce Wayne made no hesitation to move forward. Fear thrumming at the idea that someone had fallen through the ice. Maybe it hadn't been solid enough for skating and a poor soul got pulled in.

Except the ice was perfect. The only marks from the slight scratches of the blades against it. Not a single crack or hole could be seen.

It didn't take long before Dick was grabbing Bruce's attention. Waving the man over with a grim expression. The once joyous moment quickly turned dark and grim.

There was a boy, barely older than Damien trapped beneath the ice. Even with closed eyes, the kid looked like he could easily be mistaken as a Wayne. Any urgency to help was quickly faded by the sight.

The boy's skin held a blue tint, noticeable even through the thick layer of ice and the water below. His lips a sickly purple, and not a movement in his body.

It was clear the boy had been long since dead. Floating in the ice cold water beneath the ice. Having just floated up to the ice by pure accident.

With a sombre tone, Bruce ordered someone to call the police. They would need the fire department to even fathom pulling the poor boy out.

Bruce, along with Dick stayed kneeled on the cold ice. Eyes trained on the poor boy. Wondering if this was a blessing or a curse.

A poor family out there somewhere finally knowing what happened to their son this Christmas winter. Only for the horrible news of loss to hit them, even then the mystery was gone.

The sound of sirens broke through the thick tense silence. Help would be there soon, but the day had been tainted already.

It took everything in Bruce not to shout when eyelids sudden snapped open.

Fear and pain-filled bright blue eyes stared up at him through the ice. Pruned and blue hands suddenly pressed against the ice. Purple lips moving in frantic and panic words.

Words that couldn't penetrate the ice.

Bruce moved quickly, standing and yelling for help. Calling the civilians to bring anything they could. A blade from the snow cone cart was brought over.

The thick silence and stillness breaking instantly as everyone joined together in a rushed attempt to help.

Bubbles raised to the surface, popping against the ice as the boy beneath it continued to struggle. Words of comfort spilling from Bruce, even though he knew the boy likely couldn't hear him.

Many people were ushered off the ice, not wanting to risk a massive break from the weight. The ice frantically yet slowly breaking and giving under the attempts. Shavings and cracks signaling progress.

Bruce's eyes trailed away from the ice he had been trying to break for only a split second. He could hear the sounds of the fire department pulling into the area.

Bruce's eyes met the teen's terrified one. A chill ran down his spine as he saw the fight leave the boy, a feeling of despair and loss filling Bruce.

He couldn't let it end like this.

Yet, the choice was ripped from him. The water below the ice seemed to bubble for a split second before he was gone.

The boy under the ice was just gone.

He hadn't sunk down to the bottom of the pond. He hadn't floated to another section. One second he was there, and the next he was gone.

It didn't stop the fire department from breaking into the ice. Into pulling all efforts to try and find the boy. The boy that almost everyone in attendance had seen in clear detail.

There wasn't a body. No sign of the young teen's existence, save for the now shattered and broken ice. It seemed to be nothing, a strange blimp in a Gotham day.

Everyone was meant to move on without a second thought.

Except Bruce couldn't. He couldn't get the sight of terrified eyes meeting his. He knew there was too the story. That boy needed help.

He wasn't simply trapped under the ice. The boy wasn't simply dead. He was suffering. And Bruce would be damned if he just brushed it off like everyone else.

It's a good thing Bruce didn't. A late night in the cave, listening to the police scanners. Trying to push away the lingering sadness and pain he felt from the boy.

That's when he heard it. The call of a young boy being found trapped under the ice. In a different pond.

That was all the confirmation Bruce needed. He sent out an order to every vigilante apart of his family. To keep an eye out for the elusive boy.

Bruce was going to crack this mystery. He was going to help this kid, no matter what it took.

[luveline]

hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 

She grins. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You all done?” 

“Yep.” 

“Not hungry anymore?” 

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 

“Thanks, beautiful.” 

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 

“I’m tired.” 

“It’s not bed time.” 

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 

“That sound fun or what?” 

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 

“I didn’t say one!” 

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 

“Oh, no,” Avery says. 

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 

“Gonna get Beth changed.” 

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 

“Sorry,” she laughs. 

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 

You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 

“Feels too good to be true.” 

“My turn tonight,” he says. 

“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say. 

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Chapter 4

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags might not have worked, and I’m sorry if so!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous Part: Chapter Three

Next Part: Chapter Five

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I was in a “blushy” mood when I wrote this

—----------------------------------

The parrot had returned to his perch and was watching you curiously as you pulled out your notebook. You decided that you might as well go over and study him first, since he seemed eager enough to talk earlier.

“Hey, I never got your name,” you said, waving at the colorful-winged boy. 

He gave you a big smirk, “Ace is the name, don’t forget it.”

You couldn’t help but think he was even a little more cocky than the peacocks. The way he smirked at you made you feel like he was grating on your nerves a little.

“Well, my name is (Y/n), it’s nice to meet you,” you said, smiling brightly.

“I’m not going to remember that,” Ace said matter-of-factly, “Too many keepers, you know?”

You tried to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but it must have shown a little, because Ace’s grin was widening. For whatever reason, he was toying with you.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking some notes,” you said, holding your notebook up for him to see.

“I do mind,” Ace shot back without hesitation.

“What do you want to do then?” You asked, biting back a sigh, “Did you want to talk?”

For the first time, the mask slipped. The smug grin disappeared, revealing something more vulnerable, “Everyone that comes through just makes me repeat things like I’m some sort of circus freak.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, heart clenching at his confession. You could picture little kids trying to get him to repeat after them like a… well, a parrot, “I won’t do that to you. We can just have normal conversations.”

Ace’s eyes averted from your figure and a slightly blush rose on his cheeks, “Yeah, I mean, I’d like that.” He raised his arm to shield his blush from you, “Ah- I, um, we can talk next time.”

“Are you sure? I’d love to talk with you.”

“Yeah…” the redness spread to Ace’s ears. You hadn’t meant to make him blush, but you couldn’t help but think it was cute. You were disappointed when he spread his wings and flew off to the birdhouse, disappearing inside.

You pulled out your notebook and began to write:

DAY 1

PARROT

The parrot halfling’s name is Ace. His wings and hair are more orange than red like in normal parrots. Other than the wings on his back and the way his feet curl into talons, he looks human. 

He’s able to hold conversations easily and probably knows more languages than the average human. He seems to like retreating to his birdhouse to eat and have privacy.

Next, you decided, you’d go to the raven, since his cage was right next to Ace’s.

The cage appeared empty and you quickly realized he must be inside his birdhouse. Because of the color of his hair and wings, it was impossible to pick him out among the shadows in the entrance. 

“Deuce!” You called out, “How are you doing?”

Immediately, there was movement inside the birdhouse and Deuce’s head poked out, staring out at you, eyes glittering with excitement despite his calm expression. Dark blue wings spread and, before you knew it, his talons were digging into the perch at the edge of his cage.

“Remember?” Deuce asked.

“Huh?” Your mind went blank, unsure of what he was trying to ask you.

“Remember?” Deuce asked again, this time pointing at his chest.

“Oh! Yes, I remember you.”

A soft smile spread across Deuce’s lips and you returned it with an even brighter grin. 

“You? You name?” Deuce pointed at you and you startled. You had forgotten to tell him your name!

“I’m (Y/n)! It’s nice to officially meet you, Deuce,” you held out a hand for him to shake, but he merely stared at it in confusion.

“Deuce, you idiot, you're supposed to shake her hand,” someone’s voice snorted. To your surprise Ace had emerged from his birdhouse to poke fun at the bird in the cage next to his own.

Deuce reached out and grabbed your hand and shook it. His hands were so smooth you were amazed he wasn’t using moisturizer. You released his hand but he kept holding on to yours.

“Um, Deuce, you have to let go,” you laughed awkwardly. 

Deuce’s face hardened and he tightened his hand around your own. You tried to pull away but he still didn’t let go.

“Let go Deuce!” You said sharply. 

Deuce looked startled and dropped your hand. His face fell and he hunched his shoulders, looking ashamed.

“It’s okay,” you tried to reassure him, but it was too late, he was already flying back to his birdhouse.

Ace made a disgusted noise and disappeared into his own birdhouse once more.

Sighing shakily, you pulled out your notebook again.

DAY 1

RAVEN

The raven halfling’s name is Deuce. He doesn’t seem to know much English. Earlier, he had trouble opening the salad container. 

He seemed to like holding my hand, as he didn’t want to let go.

“Let’s go talk to the flamingos,” you said to yourself, walking over to their cage.

The flamingos were on the opposite side of the cage, but you were hesitant to step inside. The enclosure was designed to look like the wetlands, and you were afraid your shoes may get absolutely ruined. 

Oh well, you figured, I can just get new shoes if that happens.

Cater and Riddle looked up as you entered the cage, the gate closing noisily behind you. They watched you curiously as you cheerfully made your way towards them. Suddenly, the ground gave way and your left leg sank up to the knee in water. You lost your balance and started to fall towards the large pond taking up half their exhibit. You let out a strangled cry as the water grew closer.

Then, everything stopped. You were suddenly aware of hands holding your waist and forearm, keeping you from plunging straight into the water. 

“Nice catch, Riddle!” Cater gasped, his hands joining the smaller man’s to help pull you onto dry land. 

Shakily, you said, “Thank you guys so much!”

Riddle turned his head away, but nodded bashfully, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Cater grinned at him knowingly.

“I just wanted to say ‘hi’ to you two and introduce myself,” you explained, “I’m (Y/n), and I’ll be visiting you every few days.”

“Not every day?” Cater pouted. Maybe it was your imagination, but Riddle looked a little disappointed too.

“No, sorry,” you apologized. 

“Tired,” Riddle said sharply.

“It is getting late,” Cater nodded.

Curiously, you asked, “How do you know English so well, Cater?”

Cater beamed, “I was a pet.”

A pet? Keeping a wild halfling as a pet somehow felt worse than keeping them in a zoo, but you couldn’t explain why. At least Cater didn’t seem to be bothered by his past.

You looked up at the sky and cursed- it really was getting dark. If you wanted to see the peacocks before darkness fell, you’d have to hurry.

“I’m sorry, I should go say ‘hi’ to the peacocks,” you told the pair.

Riddle nodded and began to walk away. Cater pouted but nodded as well. You quickly jotted down a few notes in your notebook.

DAY 1

FLAMINGOS

The two flamingos are named Riddle and Cater. They’re different from the other birds in that they have webbed feet instead of talons.

Cater is a former pet, so he knows English pretty well.

You felt like your notes were getting shorter and shorter, but you were feeling tired today. In the end, the notes were for your eyes only unless you made a discovery. So far the only thing out of the ordinary was Deuce’s hand holding, but even that wasn’t anything surprisingly. Halflings wouldn’t know what makes humans uncomfortable, after all.

You found yourself slipping into the peacock enclosure without even thinking about it. All three of them looked at you, so you smiled and waved at them. Rook waved back enthusiastically, but Epel continued to stare and Vil looked away haughtily.

Once you were close to them, you found yourself admiring Vil. Despite his attitude, he really was gorgeous, “You’re so beautiful, Vil.”

Vil’s eyes went wide and he looked at you in surprise for a moment before a gentle smile spread across his lips, “Thank you.”

Epel and Rook looked just as stunned as you felt. Maybe he wasn’t as prickly as you had originally thought. 

“You’re Epel, right?” You asked the adorable lilac-haired peacock.

Epel nodded and, before you could say anything else, he sternly said, “Not cute!”

“What?” You couldn’t figure out what he meant. Was he saying Vil wasn’t cute? You weren’t cute? 

“Mademoiselle,” Rook smiled and brushed his fingers along your arm, “He not like cute.”

“He doesn’t like being called cute?” You asked.

Rook and Epel both nodded.

“Alright, then I won’t call you cute,” you reassured him, “Is handsome okay?”

Epel nodded, tucking his chin against his chest in embarrassment.

You giggled and introduced yourself, “Well, I’m (Y/n)! I’ll be visiting you every few days.”

“Nice to meet you, Mademoiselle,” Rook said.

Epel stumbled over his words, “Nice to… meet you.”

Vil didn’t say anything but he gave you a nod of acknowledgment. You pulled out your notebook.

DAY 1

PEACOCKS

Peacock halflings have a fan of feathers protruding from their backs, setting them apart from all other bird halflings. The peacocks at the zoo are named Vil, Rook, and Epel. 

Rook is friendly, but the other two, especially Vil, aren’t as interested in me.

Note: Don’t call Epel “cute”.

The peacocks looked tired, Epel having already sat down and pulled his wings around him. It was best if you went to the bird you had saved for last- the owl.

You waved goodbye, only receiving a responding wave from Rook. A few moments later, you were closing the gate behind you and heading over to the owl’s cage.

The green-haired owl was awake and chowing down on his salad. He looked at you curiously, a gentle smile gracing his lips as you approached him.

“I’m (Y/n), I never had the chance to ask you your name.”

“I’m Trey,” the owl responded, his voice smooth. You were surprised to realize that he wore glasses, and wondered how on earth they did eye tests on halflings.

“How did they know you needed glasses?” You asked. After all, it’s not like they could have him read something out, since halflings couldn’t read.

Trey smiled, “I hit things. With my wings. I fly. Fly into things.” 

“That makes sense,” you mused, “So it’s better now?”

“Yes, better now,” Trey nodded.

You couldn’t explain what it was, but for some reason, the way Trey looked down at you made your stomach twist unpleasantly. It was like he was the one researching you. His eyes were sharp, greedily taking in every movement, while the simple smile remained glued to his face.

He put you on edge.

“Well…” your smile wavered, “I’m going to take some notes.”

“No more talking?” Trey asked. You couldn’t tell if it was your imagination or not, but the smile seemed… off. As though he were mocking you.

You had a feeling this halfling was much more intelligent than he let on.

“Sorry,” you forced a bright smile, “I’m going home soon, so I need to do this.” You pulled out your notebook and began to write quickly.

DAY 1

OWL

The owl halfling’s name is Trey. He has a barn owl’s wings, but he has green hair. He wears glasses.

Note: Keep your eye on him.

You were so tired, you were probably imagining things. Either way, you were ready to get home as soon as possible.

[pricelessemotion]

Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time. 

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it. 

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container. 

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use. 

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye. 

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free. 

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this. 

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway. 

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there. 

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair. 

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.” 

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.  

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays. 

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.” 

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?” 

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.” 

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match. 

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no? 

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.  

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home. 

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore. 

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular. 

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn. 

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!” 

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you. 

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder. 

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice. 

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen. 

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch. 

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp. 

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower. 

You’re sinking. 

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him. 

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure. 

Stay. 

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.” 

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines. 

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?” 

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door. 

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains. 

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.” 

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.  

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house. 

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you. 

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—” 

“Have to go?” He supplies. 

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open. 

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay. 

You’re the one who is always leaving. 

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds. 

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side. 

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again. 

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.” 

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one. 

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing. 

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone. 

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there. 

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you. 

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up. 

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors. 

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction. 

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.  

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks. 

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces. 

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom. 

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.  

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away. 

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.   

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”  

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you. 

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning. 

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away. 

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him. 

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears. 

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t. 

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.” 

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his. 

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting. 

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out. 

You understand the feeling. 

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you. 

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun. 

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.   

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun. 

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

[writing-fanics]

working on a Lucifer x reader

Where the reader is an imp has a son and owns a cleaning business, is hired by Lucifer to clean the estate. And slowly over the two days they bond nothing romantic but they have a mutual understanding of what it’s like to have someone you love leave.

For the reader it was their ex husband who left to be with someone after he cheated

Lucifer bonds with the kid little giving him a rubber duck when the reader is forced to bring him along after the baby sitter cancelled

just a slow burn romance that doesn’t take shape till acid rain is forecasted and the reader forgetting the umbrella doesn’t wanna go out in it so

Lucifer offers them to stay the night. Sitting at the table drinking hot cocoa and bonding the reader giving Lucifer the encouragement to talk to his daughter more

not completely bringing him out of his shell but helping

the kid giving Lucifer a drawing they made and him hanging it in his office..

the news getting hold of it and the ex being like wtf

trying to get them back only for Lucifer to step in..

I need to stop

Edit more

Lucifer asking Daniel if it’s okay he can date you and Daniel being all for it.

[mayullla]

Title: Burned

Character(s): Childe / Tartaglia (Genshin Impact)

Summary: He was your best friend ever since you were kids, you guys were inseparable. You promised that you would be together forever yet you could not feel anything but fear as you looked at from the audience his bloodied clothes and crazed eyes as he was essentially granted permission to have you by the Tsaritsa.

Warnings/tags: Fem!reader, yandere themes (obsession), childhood friends to lovers(?) trope

You and Ajax had known each other since you were babies. Having lived close to each other's home it was almost every day that the two of you would meet and play, holding hands as the two of you explored the white-coated forest or stay by each other side drinking hot cocoa by the fire.

To your parents, it looked like the two of you were inseparable when they watched you guys lean on each other, napping quietly with a blanket covering you two. It was cute. When you were like the younger sister and Ajax was the older brother.

Even when Ajax's family grew in size, younger siblings, he never left your side, really still holding your hand tightly as if he didn't want you to go. There were moments when he would be conflicted as his sibling called him from far away, yet he was unable to go as he held your hand.

Even tho he was technically the older brother, he acted almost like an attached puppy toward you. Wherever you go, he would follow you if he was allowed, and when he isn't, there were times when he would whine wanting no more than to play with you.

He watched his siblings all the time, his parents were glad with how dedicated he was to taking care of them but you were special they could see it in the small boy's eyes how he would constantly look for you even when you were not around. How his ears were always sharp, moving immediately when he hears you while they could barely.

His parents and yours would joke that the two of you would marry later when you guys grow up and that they would connect the families through you guys. While most kids would dislike such jokes, finding them disgusting or in their words, "eww!" Ajax would always blush, looking rather hopeful at the idea as he would sneakily glance at you. They thought that this was the future, a few ups, and downs, no doubt, but they thought they could see it.

They didn't know what to do when Ajax suddenly disappeared.

It was a shock to everyone, with fear in their hearts that they had lost someone they desperately search for him. You cried when your parents didn't let you continue searching when it had gotten so late at night, when you looked so hard yet still could not find him. Cried so much that your eyes stung in pain with rashes under your eyes and nose.

After a few days, some gave up looking, and after a month or two, they had to stop. You were broken. It felt like the world collapsed because he was gone, and many pitied you. But you still didn't stop looking for him. Going to the woods where you and him played often, you would call out his name before returning when someone calls you back home. You missed him, you missed him so much and only wished he could come back home.

And he did... just... just that he was different from before.

Found in the middle of the woods, his clothes bloodied and thorn. Many were concerned for the boy, surprised to even see him alive in this freezing nation but most were happy. Till they saw his eyes, lifeless and blank. In the back of their minds, warnings started ringing as they slowed down their steps.

What in the world happened?

Ajax was taken back home, embraced by his family's arms and he also hugged them back just as tight. Being stuck in the abyss for so long all he wanted to see was both his family and... you.

Small steps he could hear that sounded all too familiar to him and impatient knocks on the door his parents were in the kitchen while his siblings were playing with their toys. He was the only one who could open the door, getting up as he headed towards the door, opening it, but before he would see actually you, his body was pushed backward and hands clinging around his neck.

It felt like an invisible weight was lifted from his shoulders. When he looked at you, your face hidden in his shoulder, he was supporting both you and him so that you two would not fall onto the hard floor and tears wet his clothes.

He didn't want you hurt after all, always thinking about you before himself, but when he heard your voice, your cries, that you missed him so much... He couldn't help himself but hug you as tightly.

People around him started treating him differently after he came back. His own personality and attitude had changed too much. He had become jaded even if he was the same boy who still took care of his baby siblings his parents could see it in his eyes, that flame of insanity and a yearning to fight. It hurt his parents, as they were unable to look into his eyes as guilt choked them. But there was one person who didn't change other than his baby siblings who couldn't even realize anything was different.

It was you who continued to stay by his side.

You stay by his side... Ajax knew that you were as innocent and naive as his siblings but held on to this kind of hope that you would be different when you make no mention or found him slipping as he talks about the thrill of fighting. He was your friend you told him, why would you ever leave him?

"I will never ever leave you, Ajax. So you don't have to hide anything from me! We are friends and we will stay together forever! Okay?"

It was naive words, maybe down the line you would regret someday but you didn't know that determined to stay by his side when you saw how Ajax looked at you, his eyes widen like saucers. The hesitation and fear of something that has yet to come... you wished to take all of it away. He was your friend after all.

The hand that held your own tightened, and you whined in pain.

"Promise?"

It was a solemn voice as Ajax looked down to the snow floor. You tilted your head, startled as he looked at you again. There was no sparkle in his eyes but something else... something you didn't understand when you were so young. But you nodded.

"Promise."

You were surprised when you heard of the news of one of the harbingers taking an interest in Ajax. Happy if not proud that he had gotten the interest of someone who worked so close to the Tsaritsa. Yet you can't help it as your smile dropped when Childe told you that he would be leaving here.

After your last hug (both of you knew that you would not be able to see each other for a long time), you watched him leave with Pulcinella.

It was okay... you both had promised to send letters as often as you could.

You wished to see him every day, sending Ajax letters one or two a week even as years passed. While he didn't send as many letters to you, all of them were usually thick and full of care. He was always busy that much you understood from when he told you his training schedule but also from Pulcinella, who would show up here ever so often to care for Ajax's siblings.

You asked him if he was doing all right...

"Ajax is doing fine, but training is really hard, and he has been very busy. But if you want, I can deliver a word for him for you if you wish." he offered, but you choose to instead decline, thanking him for taking care of Ajax.

"He has told me about a lovely lady many times before. It seems that you are the one that he was talking about." The old man smiled at you, "I shall tell him that you miss him if you wish. He would be very happy."

Instead of declining his offer again, you hesitantly yet respectfully accepted his offer. But there was something that he said that you could not get out of your mind.

Just before he left, Pulcinella turned back to face you again. "Maybe you already know this but just in case, I think it is better for you should know that Ajax is a different person than he was before he fell into the abyss. You must be careful with him. Otherwise if handled carelessly you might be burned by his flames."

The mayor's words made you hesitant, offended by his words, yet at the same time, it made you confused. How could he say that when he was the one who took Ajax in.

You ignored his words, well at least tried to when you continued to write letters to Ajax. Somewhere in your heart, you knew that something was true, yet for years, you chose to ignore everything, for... he was still your friend.

Ajax and you continued to send letters to each other you more than him, while he would occasionally send them a small present would be with it telling you how it reminded him of you. From bracelets, and small accessories to stones, and dried flowers and sweets. (You tied to ignore the fact that there was a bit of blood on some of the items sometimes, worry that he might be hurt, or wonder how hard the mission was. Part of you knew that this blood wasn't his not with how cheery and excited his letters were.)

There were some people you knew in the village that meet Ajax, not usually on purpose but by chance, and they would all say the same thing. That he really had changed. Their faces never say it was for the best. Instead, they were rather pale and unsure as they started warning you to be careful.

While Ajax's parents looked hesitant when you asked them about him when they visited him.

You never wanted to believe it, that you would rather see it from your own eyes. It has been so long since you last met Ajax, but you saved enough money to make a trip to see him after some years. Finish getting ready, you head out, leaving your home to visit him as you have heard that there was a tournament happening between the Fatui, that maybe you could see him then...

Your heart froze when you saw the blood stains on his clothes as he battled with other fatui members. It was a brutal fighting tournament, and the winner gets a wish granted by the Tsaritsa.

The boy you once knew was nowhere to be found as you watched another man with ginger hair injure another of his colleagues. He never stabbed too deep, yet your body could not help but feel a chill as you watched his crazed eyes.

He was holding back... but in what sense you didn't want to know.

"Is there anything that you wish for as a reward? Fame, money? power?" The Tsaritsa asked her voice chilling. Yet the man didn't seem to be fazed still keeping his head low he spoke up, "I do not wish for such things. Fame and money have no use to me. While power does appeal to me, I wish to be rewarded with something else."

Whispers could be heard everywhere as people were shocked that such a young man like him would deny the opportunity for something greater. The Tsaritsa paused as if thinking for a moment before speaking, "Raise your head, my soldier, and tell me what is it that you want. If it is not impossible, I shall give it to you."

Childe raised his head a smile on his lips, yet still respectful, but nothing could hide the madness in his eyes that just came back from a bloody fight. "I have a lady that I love but had to leave her when I joined the fatui years ago, I wish to see her again and would like to ask for a month or two rest so as to visit her and my family." You blink in surprise at what he said, yet you felt your heart stop when you locked eyes with him for just a second.

He knew you were here. Yet rather than that affectionate eyes of the young boy that you knew, you felt nothing more than his prey.

The Tsaritsa was silent for a moment again looking down at Childe as if examing him. "You are a loyal man. Very well, you shall go back to your home as I will grant you 2 months of rest. Go be with the woman you love and come back when the time is up for when you come back you will be bestowed the 11th rank of the harbinger."

The crowds gasped both in shock and amazement, yet soon after, there was loud cheering. Yet you could not join them as you stood frozen in your spot, fear nestled in your heart as your childhood friend looked straight at you. The look in his eyes was familiar to you, but back then, you didn't know what it was.

Now you do. Those eyes belonged to someone you cared for so much now held an infatuation-crazed love within them shown to no one but only to you. Taking a step back, your legs felt like they were encased with ice.

This was not the boy you knew.

"I thank the Tsaritsa for your benevolence. It is an honor to be granted this reward."

Or maybe you never knew him in the first place.

[verstappen-cult]

SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando enjoys the holidays for many reasons, and one of the main ones is how happy you always are. you take everything involving christmas very serious and he tries to help you as much as he can, but it’s lando, he can’t help but go up to santa at the mall, asking for what he wants for christmas as if he’s five years old, embarrassing you so much you don’t think you will ever be showing your face again. lando is awful at wrapping presents, but you take your time teaching him between giggles and kisses that taste like hot cocoa. and after a very stressful but fun day of shopping and wrapping presents, you end your day cuddle up in front the fireplace with hot drinks and a christmas movie.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles knows you love christmas, so you don’t even need to ask for him to know that as soon as the season starts, you want to go and see the christmas lights around the neighborhood. so he drives you for hours, heart melting at your happy face and tears in your eyes. you decorate the tree together while christmas songs play in the background, that soon turns into a karaoke fight. charles’ favorite part of decorating the house is definitely when he has to lift you up so you can hang up the ones that you can’t reach by your own. of course you have stairs that could easily help you do it, he just doesn’t tell you.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar loves you so, so much because if that weren’t the case, he definitely wouldn’t be wearing the matching sweaters you gifted him a few christmas ago. much less while shopping where everyone can recognize him. but really, oscar doesn’t care if a picture of him wearing an ugly bright-green grinch sweater goes viral as long as you keep smiling at him every time you turn around to show him something. and it all pays off when you arrive home, after a day full of activities, and he feels your arms wrapping around him as you tell him how grateful you are between kisses.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max goes all out to make every christmas special and makes sure to have the days leading up to christmas free so you can go shopping together. what max loves the most is how you slip your hand inside his coat’s pocket so you can still hold hands. and when he sees all the ingredients to make a gingerbread house, of course he has to buy it. so when he comes home with a big smile you don’t hesitate to clean the kitchen and sit down to put it together. and it chaos, neither of you had done it before and it ends up being anything but a gingerbread house, but you love it, you made it together so it has a special place on the countertop where everyone can see it.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

every year since you and alex have together he takes you to an ice rink. you both have learn a lot of tricks that, of course, end up with you bumping into people and falling. it’s your favorite night in december where you can just be kids together. the night ends up with you two walking down the christmas fair, sharing candy canes and hot cocoa while arguing about what movie to watch that night. and if you find yourselves under a mistletoe making out, well, nobody needs to know that.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel loves christmas in australia because he can be with you for a full month and scape the cold, too. all his family gets together on christmas eve and every year you are a bundle of nerves. they love you, you know that and daniel makes sure you remember, he also makes you forget all about nerves dragging you to the kitchen where the little ones are setting out all the snacks for santa and his reindeers. you finish with only half the cookies and carrots because daniel can’t help himself. after that all the adults gather in the living room to drink and chat. it’s a little different tradition, but you love it.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick loves to do a mini photoshoot on christmas day with your matching pajamas because you two look so pretty in them, and needs it for his collection. then, sitting by the fireplace to exchange gifts before going your separate ways to spend christmas with your families. he always has that big and bright smile on his face that you love so much when it’s your turn to open your presents. you say your goodbyes outside in the snow, kissing and getting wet but not caring at all. you promise to see each other the next day to snuggle up in the couch and see your favorite holiday movies together.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[prettypixels22]

Headcanons for spending Christmas with call of duty characters

(feat. simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, john price,

kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, phillip graves)

a/n: for context, in each section you’re referenced to have kids with each character and, although not explicitly stated, the reader is implied to be a homebody but these headcanons are kept gender neutral. if you continue to read, i hope you enjoy.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Christmas is the best time for him to show how much he appreciates you and the kids

He’s not a bad parent, he’s always been very good with the kids

He provides for you all and takes care of them the best he can but he knows he can be emotionally distant at times

He can handle most situations involving his kids but when they get upset or argue with each other, he struggles and has to rely on you to help them

It’s not that he doesn’t want to emotionally connect with them, he just isn’t sure how and he’s not used to talking about his feelings

So gift giving is a good way for him to express that he does care and love you all

He likes both receiving and gifting things that are homemade or sentimental, he enjoys those kinds of gifts because they are specific to your little family and that makes it so special to him

Skulls become like a trademark to your family and tiny skull symbols are hidden in most gifts, wether it be a carving on a wooden item, an engraving on a piece of jewelry, an embroidery on fabric or even woven into those little bracelets kids like to make

Speaking of skulls, your kids definitely have skull designed sky masks that they used to stay warm when they play in the snow

The kids sit on the same sled and have Ghost pull them around, it’s so heart warming seeing your partner and children play while wearing the same masks like they’re a little family of ghosts

When your children go to bed, you talk to Simon about something they’ve been telling you recently, “The kids want a dog.”

You bring it up during one of those intimate times when he’s not wearing his mask and you feel like you can read his mind

Instead of the blank stare you usually see when all of his features, save for his eyes, are covered, you can see the slight changes in his expression

His eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenches, you can’t tell he doesn’t think it’s a good idea

“We can name him Riley,” you joke, “He can be our guard dog and protect us when you’re not around.”

Although you weren’t being serious, he actually started warming up to the idea

It wouldn’t be a puppy though, he’d take you to look at retired military dogs

There was one you two took a particular liking to, a german shepherd, he was a nice dog and in need of a good home but he also had the proper training to be able to protect you and the kids if need be

The kids loved him, of course, and he was very gentle with them, wagging his tail while they hugged and pet him

You ended up falling asleep to a Christmas movie, your family cuddled up together on the couch with your new dog

John “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny loves Christmas and eagerly waits for it to come around every year

There’s always a mountain of gifts around the Christmas tree

Half of the presents he bought, he purchased all the way back in January

He just gets so giddy seeing you and the kids enjoy his gifts that he immediately wants buy more after Christmas is over

Then when it finally gets close to December, you two have your kids’ Christmas lists to deal with

You two have to start wrapping them, at least, a week in advance because there’s no way you’re getting them all done in one night

Especially when you have to wait for the kids, who are pumped full of sugar from eating too many Christmas cookies, to go to sleep

So they get double the gifts and on top of that they get even more when you visit the MacTavish family (which is huge by the way)

Speaking of, when you do visit his family, you get to sit inside by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa with his parents and sisters and watch from the window while Soap takes your kids outside to play with their cousins and uncles in the snow

You get a front row seat to the comical scene of Johnny being hit with a snowball and dramatically collapsing to the grown, a swarm of children climbing over him and playfully attacking

He will play outside with his kids for hours, having snowball fights, building snowmen, sledding

He’d love to take them snowboarding one day, if only the military would grant him enough leave time to take them to a ski resort

While your kids play with their nieces and nephews, Soap will definitely try to sneak you away for some “alone time”

If you object to this and tell him him that you two need to go back and watch your kids, he’ll pull you into an empty room, large hands cradling your face as he tries to bargain with you, “Just lemme give you a quick kiss, bonnie. Hmm?”

But it’s never just a “quick kiss” and you don’t know how you keep falling for that

He’s so sweet when he’s affectionate, he’ll slow dance with you by the fireplace or run you a nice relaxing bath with rose petals, it’s a romantic and intimate way of showing you how much he loves you

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Since joining task force 141, he’s had to spend more time away from you and the kids then he’s used to

He misses you all a lot when he’s away but it makes each Christmas that much more special because he has to cherish every second he spends with you and your children

You two usually plan for Christmas together but since he’s been away you do most of the planning and he helps as much as he can when he finally returns home

If you’re cooking something and he knows what ingredient you’ll need next, he’ll grab it for you and set it on the counter before you even have the chance to ask

He also keeps the kids distracted so you can focus on dinner by building gingerbread houses with them, which were a lot harder than he was anticipating and by the time they got the house to stand, there were globs of frosting everywhere with gumdrops and mints scattered across the kitchen table

He cleans it all up though along with any mess you might’ve made while cooking dinner, he cleans the dishes and pans that you’ve used so you don’t have to worry about it later and wipes down the counter

You’re more excited than usual to invite your in-laws to Christmas Dinner

You’ve grown super close to them since Gaz joined Task Force 141, they were your rock during his absence

If you ever needed help with the kids or were just lonely, they would welcome you into their home with open arms

You’d sit with them and talk about how you missed Gaz or how good of a father and partner he was

They’d reminisce about raising him and the childhood they worked so hard to provide for him, going through a photo album of baby Kyle and explaining the backstory behind each picture

Throughout the dinner Gaz sees how close you’ve gotten with his family and it’s not just you, his kids have also grown accustomed to seeing their grandparents regularly

That Christmas is so hard for him because he just wants to be able to be with you and kids again

He knew what he was getting into when he joined 141 and he still believes in the cause but seeing his family get along and be happy makes it a challenge for him not to go back to the SAS

“You know I love you, right?” He’ll ask after dinner. He start saying it a lot more often because if something does happen to him, he doesn’t want their to be a doubt in your mind about how much he loves you and the kids

As the end of his leave time approaches, he kisses you nonstop and holds you and the kids tight, knowing he’ll have to say goodbye soon

John Price

Every year there’s at least one gift that relates to the military

It all started when your son wrote that he wanted nerf guns on his Christmas list one year

That Christmas you and your husband watched your son and daughter go to war with one another, running around the house and hiding under tables, trying to shoot each other with foam bullets

Price thought it was hilarious and the kids clearly enjoyed it, so he started gifting them foam weapons and toy sets with fake knives, grenades and binoculars

He enjoys watching his kids play with each other and was particularly amused one day when your son was army crawling around in the grass trying to sneak up on his sister

That next Christmas he got your son a ghillie suit which he became absolutely infatuated with

You’d call the kids in for dinner and your son would walk in looking like a mountain of grass

That one gift was what started the tradition of gifting actual military gear

While your daughter just likes getting things she and her brother can play together with, your son becomes interested in actual military equipment

His Christmas lists will start to include things like a tact helmet or vest

One time, he got them both night vision goggles which sucked for you because when he had to leave the kids wanted to stay up all night and play in the dark

(Side note: His kids have definitely picked up on words that relate to the military and war but they don’t fully know what the words mean so they’ll say things like “homework is propaganda”)

Something oddly specific that Price is thankful for is the fact that the older his kids get, the longer they want to sleep in

He loves watching the kids get excited from seeing the present under the tree and all but he enjoys the few hours he has in the morning where he can just hold you close

You two already don’t get to have a lot of time together because of your husband’s line of work and having two children didn’t help since most of your attention revolves around them

He cherishes the mornings where everything’s calm and quite and you’re curled up in his arms without a care in the world

Kate Laswell

She’s very efficient went it comes to buying the kids Christmas presents

When your kids write their Christmas lists, you two split the responsibility, she buys half and you buy the rest

It minimizes the time you have to spend buying gifts and you two usually get it done early so there’s no last minute present hunting, it makes the process quick and painless

During the week of Christmas, you two would take your kids to a café so they could have sweet treats for breakfast and a nice hot chocolate with a small candy cane to stir the piping liquid

After that you’d walk down the street, checking out different gift and pop-up shops so the kids could get Christmas souvenirs

Kate loves taking pictures of you all during the holidays and would definitely take your kids to get their pictures taken with a mall Santa

All of the photos would go in a photo album she has of all the happy memories and milestones you’ve all had over the years

The night before she has to leave for work again, you two sit on the porch and watch the snow fall

Your ears pick up on the sound of a quite ‘flck’ and you turn to see your wife lighting a cigarette, “Kate.”

A small chuckle escapes her lips, she knows how much you hate when she smokes, “It’s Christmas. Humor me, just this once.”

You don’t want your last night together to be a fight so you don’t push the issue but you don’t hide your disapproval either, “Those things are bad for you.”

She takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers, “Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”

You know she has and it’s why you worry each time she’s away, you brush your fingers against her knuckles, “Do you have to go?”

“Unfortunately,” she exhales the smoke from her cigarette, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “But I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”

Farah Karim

Similar to Ghost, she’s a good parent but sometimes struggles to connect with them emotionally

Your kids would absolutely adore her though

I mean, she’s the most badass role model any kid could have

They always make sure she’s involved in activities, even if she’s too busy to actual partake

She’ll be talking to one of her soldiers on the phone when, all of a sudden, her kids run up to her to hand her Christmas treats and hot cocoa that they made with you

She tends to think of her brother a lot during the holidays, gifting her kids things that she and Hadir enjoyed as children

She doesn’t ever want them to go through what she went through with her brother, first losing her parent and the Hadir turning on her

She teaches them to respect each other and will immediately shut down any fights they have

She appreciates that you light three candles each Christmas for her brother and parents, it’s a subtle acknowledgment of the family she’s lost without crossing any boundaries or opening up old wounds

Although a big portion of her time is preoccupied by the work she’s does to protect her homeland as well as you and your children, she always makes sure that on the holidays there will be a few days where her focus is solely on you and the kids

The kids eat this up and immediately put her to work, they love having her undivided attention and all the Christmas activities she wasn’t able to do before they have her do now

They’ve already make Christmas cookies with you so they’ll make gingerbread houses with her

I also think that because her soldiers are like family, they’d hold a small ceremony where each each soldier brings their loved ones and they pass around little homemade gifts that they made with their family

On the night of Christmas, you and Farah sit in front of the three candles you had lit, in a few minutes it’ll be twelve am and Christmas will officially be over

”Do you want to have the honor of blowing them out?” you ask

She gives you a soft smile, “I’ll let them burn a little longer.”

She wonders if her parents and brother can see her, if they’re glad to see her living a happy life with you and the kids

You move closer, wrapping an arm around her, “I’m sure they’d be proud of you, Farah. So proud.”

Alex Keller

I feel like he’d be such a good girl dad

On Christmas Eve morning, he’d be laying on his stomach in the living room with his daughters sitting on either side of him

Christmas movies would be playing in the background, his youngest letting him pick the colors for his hundredth friendship bracelet while his oldest crochets a snowman with a red and green scarf

His daughters are very crafty so they’d enjoy decorating the house and Christmas tree

After Thanksgiving when all of the Christmas stuff is on display, you’d take the girls shopping for lights, ornaments, tinsels, etc.

Alex will lift your youngest daughter so she can string up decorations while your oldest tells her if something needs to be moved to the right or left so everything’s perfectly even

They also like frosting Christmas cookies but instead of just slapping random colors on the cookie, they pick colors that look pretty together and try to be as neat as possible which contradicts their fathers hot mess of an icing job

You wouldn’t be surprised if they decided that they wanted to pick up cookie frosting as a hobby

There are things that Alex was able to do before, like run around with the kids in the snow, that he can’t do now because of his prosthetic leg

The girls don’t mind though, they actually go out of their way to make sure he’s comfortable, even treating him like he’s made out of glass at times despite the fact that he’s still actively fights in Urzikstan

But it’s sweet how much they care about their father and his well-being

While you’re cleaning up after dinner, Alex will wrap his arms around you from behind, his mustache tickling your skin as he presses soft kisses to your neck

He thanks you for dinner and tells you how good the food was

In turn, you tell him how much you and the girls miss him while he’s away, you jokingly add on, “I was hoping your leg would be enough to make you retire.”

He laughs at that and promising you that it won’t be long now, soon he’ll finally return to you and the kids for good

Phillip Graves

Considering he and Shadow Company work for whoever has the most money, you know he can afford anything on his kids Christmas list

He’ll send you a large sum of money while he’s away so you won’t have any trouble buying presents and the gifts he get you are usually quite expensive

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, you two message each other nonstop

You talk about what you got the kids, what you’ll be making for Christmas dinner, when he’s coming home, things like that

He’ll send you flirty text like “you know what I want for Christmas?” with a winky face or “Wear something pretty when I come home.”

The kids are always excited when their father comes home, they tell him what they wrote down on their Christmas list and which gifts they’re really hoping they get

He tells them that they better be good if they want all those presents, knowing damn well that you’ve already bought every single thing on those lists

I feel like he’d prefer a real tree over a fake tree for no other reason besides the fact that it looks better so each year he takes the kids to look at Christmas trees and, of course, the kids along with their father always want the biggest most badass looking tree

He’ll bring a tote bin up from the basement that’s full of last year’s Christmas decorations and you’ll all decorate the tree as a family

You cringe each time you watch pine needles fall as you wrap the tree in lights and tinsel, you know it’ll be a pain to clean up when Christmas is over but you let it happen every year anyway because you see how happy it makes your husband and children

When Graves puts the kids down for bed, you know exactly what he’s gonna do next

He exits the kids bedroom, closing the door behind him, and he’s on you in seconds

His lips capture yours in a heated kiss as he walks you towards your shared bedroom

“We need to wrap the kids’ presents-,” you try to remind him but he cuts you off with a kiss and tells you, “We can do that later, baby.”

photo creds (pinterest): goldeagleactual - ghost, soap/price, farah/alex | SimpsxCod - gaz | cavantine - kate | julikuli666 - graves

[jojikawa]

Ice Cream & Kisses 🍨

Sukuna makes Yuuji agree to terms that involve visiting you more regularly.

tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes.

masterlist

Full Image + Artist: bikku__2

Yuuji found himself pretty exhausted from his excessive training at school, so when he finally got back to his dorm, he was just grateful to be in bed again. This is how things went for a while until he had taken Sukuna to meet you again for the first time. Now, he bothered Yuuji every night. The helpless boy was caught in the middle of a love that lasted thousands of years. The King of Curses thoughts of you bled into his own. It made Yuuji curious about what your relationship with Sukuna was like. On the surface, you seemed kind and gentle. Your voice was soft-spoken and you were utterly gorgeous as your beauty was unaffected by age.

Although, your sheep’s clothing didn’t change the wolf that was inside. You were the Goddess of Demons. The first woman, condemned by God themself and turned into the first woman-shaped demon. If Sukuna is supposed to be this terrifying threat, he couldn’t imagine what sort of threat you’d be. To be honest, he was just grateful that you are as docile as you come off to be. For now, at least.

So, when Ryomen Sukuna approached Yuuji with an offer, he wasn’t too on the fence about the whole thing.

“New rules, kid. Trust me, you’re gonna like them too.” 

A mouth on the side of Yuuji’s face formed to utter these words. With his eyebrows knitted together, he replied “Whenever I agree to something with you, it never goes well. I don’t believe you when you say I’ll ‘like’ them either!” Then he proceeded to fold his pillow over to suffocate Sukuna’s mouth so that he could rest. 

“Don’t you wanna lay your head down somewhere other than this shitty bed?!”

Suddenly, Yuuji became a bit self-conscious of the bed he had been lying in. The school beds were fine…right? However, he noticed how his back would hurt sometimes. Sukuna spoke his new terms to which Yuuji reluctantly agreed.

“You listen to me and you listen closely. After school, you go find her. I won’t ask again. Understood?”

It was the evening. You had spent nearly all day at the local elementary school before you walked the children to their routes as usual before going to your spacious apartment. The weather was distrustful. It was spring so it would rain, but some days it would be dry and others you’d even still feel the bitter cold of winter nipping at your cheeks and making them sore.

After your talk with Sukuna again, you expected him to take what you said seriously. You didn’t know how the two of you could be together with Yuuji always around. It was awkward. So, you wanted him to figure out his situation first. You dangled the possibility over his head the way you would a biscuit for a dog.

knock! knock! knock!

You had just sat down on your couch, hot cocoa in hand when you heard a series of knocks at your door. You hoped that it wasn’t your disturbing neighbor. Anything but her. Instead of setting your mug down, you took it with you to the door.

Upon opening it, you saw that it was—

“You found me again.” You smugly sipped your drink as you laid eyes upon Yuuji. A blush of embarrassment covered his face. “He made me come.” He couldn’t help but shut his eyes when he caught the sight of what you chose to wear. There was nothing sexual about it at all—really. It’s just that Sukuna’s filthy thoughts shouted over Yuuji’s innocent ones. Internally, he ushered the boy to open his eyes so that the King of Curses could see you in all of your glory. 

“You can come in, I suppose.” You stepped aside, allowing the boy to come in. Getting inside, he took in the familiar warmth of the living space. It was cozy and suited for one person. Carpeted rugs, couches with fuzzy pillows, feminine-scented items, and lastly…demons?

“What is that!?” Yuuji yelled, pointing in disbelief at the small imp that was stalking him in the doorway of your kitchen. It was a small, ugly thing…looking like some sort of deformed animal. In its clawed hand was a can of febreeze that it dropped and ran away out of fear of the human, Yuuji. 

“It’s getting away!” The boy added, causing you to laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. That's one of my little helpers. His name is Gnaar.” 

“You just have those things running around? Isn’t that dangerous?” Yuuji frowned. You figured that he wasn’t able to differentiate curses and demons.

“No,” Your eyes rolled to the left, sipping more of your drink. “They’re harmless.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I know you didn’t come all this way for nothing. Feel free to have a seat.”

Yuuji then saw you sit your cup down and disappear into the kitchen. For a few moments, he sat in silence—or what seemed like it.

“You brat! Let me talk to her!”

Tired of his yelling, Yuuji gave control to Sukuna, trusting that you’d make him behave or else the student would suffer consequences from his teachers and probably all of Jujustu Society.

The King of Curses was able to take in his environment without being a passenger within the vessel. The way the room smelled was familiar and it reminded him so much of you. His eyes darted to the nearby mug you had been drinking from. Lazily picking it up, he sniffed it. It was chocolatey…then he proceeded to down the remaining contents before licking his lips. That was when you emerged from the next room. You had witnessed him setting the mug back down. Naturally, your eyebrows knitted together. Sukuna helping himself to your stuff was nothing new.

“Oh, Ryo. I was just making you a cup!” You scold him like an upset mother. Sukuna turned his head towards you, his mouth curling into a grin. He loved being annoying. To you—most of all. “What’s yours is mine.” He noticed that you were holding a tray. It had a fresh cup of hot cocoa and a bowl of…ice cream. In a moment, you were back on the couch next to him. It was nice to see you like this finally. You wore a sleeved white shirt that was appropriate for the weather, but it was low cut, showing off your cleavage. The shirt was cropped where it showed off your belly. As for your bottoms, you were wearing thick leggings that were tight enough to show your shapely body.

“Excuse me.” You handed him his mug of cocoa which he took. He had the entire thing in one gulp with no caution to the temperature. “Ah…HEY, GNAAR GET IN HERE!”

Gnaar came running in, tripping over his own hooves to heed Sukuna’s request.

“Don’t yell at him.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obedience. It was only slightly but you had become giddy with excitement. Gnaar took the empty dishes to the kitchen. “God, I missed that little freak.” He watched the imp stumble into the next room. “He certainly hasn’t missed you.” You replied as you reached for the ice cream. It was Neapolitan.

“I have something I want to share with you.” Instinctively, you scooted over towards Sukuna. On the inside, Yuuji felt his heart skip a beat when your thigh touched Sukuna’s. It was hard for him to believe that Sukuna could have his heart rate quicken at your actions. 

“It doesn’t look like anything.” He faked a bored tone so that you’d continue. “It’s ice cream. Surely you’ve had it since this vessel has found you?”

His nose scrunched up. “No.” He replied flatly. Or maybe, he didn’t remember having it? He didn’t pay attention to the things Yuuji consumed so this would probably be his first time having modern ice cream.

“Then try some, Darling.”

Sukuna hadn’t even noticed how close you were to him now. He wasn’t used to the two of you being at eye level. The time you spent together was mostly you trying to navigate his large body. He missed the days when you’d climb onto his lap and he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him. But he liked this too. This was—normal.

Sukuna let you feed him the ice cream. It was only a spoonful but he already knew he liked it. It was cold but sweet. It sent a pleasant tingle to his cheeks that made him want to smile. He resisted this feeling, but couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. You patiently waited for his subtle expressions. You weren’t able to tell if he liked it or not.

“Did I tell you to stop?” 

You placed a hand on your cheek. “Aw, so Ryo does like ice cream. But you have to eat it slowly.” You gave Ryo another spoonful. He grew impatient, demanding he feed himself. Of course, he gave himself a brain freeze doing so.

“I tried to warn you.” You watched as Sukuna held his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He muttered curses under his breath as he felt no relief and couldn’t bring himself to do anything else about it.

The bowl of ice cream was gone and simply a dish waiting to be taken away by Gnaar. Although, you grew concerned when it seemed like he wasn’t recovering from it. “Ryo~” Your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled his body towards you. Sukuna felt your lips press upon his temple and his cold headache magically disappeared. 

“Do that again.”

On instinct, you rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

You placed a kiss on his temple again. Another on his cheek and then on his jaw. He reveled in your kisses. They felt like heaven; a reward for simply existing because existing is exhausting.

He almost wanted to return the favor. You see, Ryomen Sukuna isn’t exactly the best at reciprocating any love that wasn’t a display of power. He was the best at killing things, pleasing during sex, and scaring any man who dares to breathe in your direction…but kissing, cuddling, holding…that was your thing. Ryo hasn’t even said those sacred three words. He hoped that you could feel how pure his love is for you or at least, him killing your evil ex-husband aided in conveying his feelings. He genuinely believed he didn’t deserve you but he was too selfish to ever part from you. 

Ryomen Sukuna wanted you all to himself. 

“There. You should feel better now.” Your lips curved into a smile that brought him peace. The same thing kept running through his head. Things are “normal” now. Sukuna despised being inside the body of a punk like Yuuji but it surely had its perks.

“Can I kiss you?”

Normally, he wouldn’t need to ask but you were confused. Your lover looked as if he were in a daze. Your watchful eyes could see every micro-expression on his face but he still managed to make things hard to understand since he was always sure of himself. You expected more of a Kiss me or a very commanding I deserve my reward for being your husband but you entertained him nonetheless. Is he asking for permission? You just had to tease him.

“Just a kiss? Knowing you, you’d probably want to take it a step further but I don’t know…you’re not exactly my type anymore.” You stifled a laugh by placing your fingertips over your mouth. There it was again. A reminder that he wasn’t in his own body or at his pull strength. But it was fine. He enjoyed it. 

He liked to know you preferred his true form when he thought about it. Sukuna felt so ugly in the Heian Era. Before you, the only things to satisfy him were wailing concubines and prostitutes who didn't enjoy his presence because of his huge body, four arms, and two mouths.

“What does it matter?!” He spat, behaving like a total tsundere at times. “That’s what you want anyway right?!” Oh, how he longed to be inside of you again. 

“Hm..” Your eyes rolled to the left as you pretended to think. “I’m not sure. Two fewer arms wouldn’t be as fun in bed.”

“I can still please you.” He quipped.

“I guess you’ll have to prove it to me…but not—“

You were silenced by Sukuna’s lips being pressed to yours. It wasn't his usual hungry kiss where it felt like he was trying to devour your face. It was sweet—no, innocent…desperate, like if he stopped, you’d disappear like a moment in time. Your belly filled with butterflies, making you put your hands on his chest to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

It wasn’t until Sukuna finally pulled away that you got a breath of air. Even he was slightly panting at his actions. You’ve never experienced such raw emotions from him…you kinda liked it.

“Why even ask if you’re just gonna do it huh, Ryo?” You smirked, making him even more flushed than he already was. “Shut up.” He grumbled before running a hand through his hair. What did you expect? The two of you have been sitting here this long. How long is he supposed to go without it?

On the inside, Yuuji expected you to scold Sukuna but he saw you smile instead. You didn’t seem to take offense to the King of Curses telling you to shut up. 

“I actually like it when you make the first move like that.” You scooted even closer and leaned your body against his. Whether you knew it or not, your chest was pressing up against his arm. “Do it again~!” 

You were literally peak woman.

So, of course, he gave into your temptation. He couldn’t resist your plush lips. Especially after getting a taste just now. It was an open mouth kiss. He practically shoved his tongue into your mouth. You could taste the lingering ice cream on his lips and tongue. 

Briefly, he would pull away just to nuzzle into your neck and take in your perfume. He was being romantic and he didn’t even realize it. It made you feel so wanted. Neither of you was able to fight the bottled-up feelings you had for each other.

Hi! hope you liked this part. I’m already working on the next part. I’ll be working in more Lilith themes to help expand on your relationship with Sukuna and also an explanation for “Adam” in future parts :3

[leossmoonn]

Welcome back, Sara!!! For a fluffy Mike idea, maybe just a cozy rainy day spent at home with Mike and Abby? Like watching movies with cups of hot cocoa under a mountain of blankets, and all that jazz

Hi Logan ☺️☺️☺️ thanks for sending this in. I’m always afraid of writing fluff fics bc like everyone wants the smut, but it’s reassuring to have this put in lol

it’s a sunday and mike just so happens to have the day off. he’s been working long and hard hours and you convinced him to take the day off. you and abby are so excited; you two planned the whole day from the moment you woke up to the time it was time for abby to sleep. unfortunately, it’s rainy and a sudden wind chill swept through. none of you need to get sick and mike didn’t want to make making abby carry an umbrella, so you make the quick decision to stay in. abby’s a little disappointed, but you try to make up for it.

the first thing you and mike do in the morning is make a fort with abby. and not just a little four corners fort. no, she makes you cover the entire living room with blankets. even the tv was included! you and mike are dragged into some play-pretend games. for a lot of them mike’s forced to play some sort of villan.

“why can’t i play the hero, abby?” mike frowns. “because that’s her job!” abby points to you.

mike gives you a look and you shrug. “abby’s the director here. cant fight with the boss.”

mike rolls his eyes, wanting to get out of the humid blankets and sleep, but he knows how happy this makes abby. and even though abby is making him play the bad guy, he knows she means it out of love and he also loves getting to spend as much time with abby as he can. watching you act is pretty cute as well.

once abby gets bored of playing in her fort — which is like 3 hours later — she decides she wants to watch a movie.

“let’s clean up first, yeah?” mike suggests. “no! let’s keep the fort up to watch the movie!” abby says.

“abby, no. we had our fun with the fort. it’s time to turn the house back to normal,” mike says. “please say we can keep the fort up!” abby pouts as she looks up at you.

mike gives you a warning look, but you can’t say no to abby. “let’s just keep the fort up for the movie, yeah?”

abby squeals and wiggles back into the fort. mike glares at you. “she’s never going to want to take it down.”

“she will when it’s time for bed, which is hours away.” you step closer to him, gently putting your hand on his shoulder. “how about i pop some popcorn — the real stuff on the stove — and i make us some hot coca, okay?”

well, who was mike to turn down stove-popped popcorn and hot cocoa. he felt like a little kid again. it doesn’t help that you and abby’s pouty faces were ganging up on him. he sighs in defeat and nods, crossing his arms around his chest.

“fine, but after the movie, we will clean all this up, okay?”

“of course,” you nod. you turn to abby who is lit up with excitement. “can i pick the movie?”

“yep! do you want any popcorn?” you ask her. “yes. can you put m&ms in mine?” she asks. “you got it, babe,” you answer.

you three settle in the fort, abby laying on her stomach right in front of the tv. she chose “Lady and The Tramp”, which was one of her more enjoyable movie choices.

“mike, you’re kind of like the tramp,” abby comments, popping a handful of popcorn and m&ms into her mouth.

you begin to laugh but cover it up with a cough when mike shoots you a glare. “abby, that’s not very nice.”

“he knows it’s true,” she says, kicking her feet up and dangling them in the air. “And you’re like Lady.”

you glance at mike, a small smile on your face. you lean into him, your nose brushing against the scruff on his cheek. “i think what she’s trying to say is that we are perfect for each other.”

the tips of his ears turn pink. he wraps his arm around you, pulling you in so your head rests on his shoulder. “she could’ve said it differently, though.”

you giggle, “nah, i think it’s accurate.” he rolls his eyes, but there’s no denying the smile on his face and twinkle in his eye.

mike ends up falling asleep towards the end of the movie. his head rests on your chest, both arms around your waist to hold you close. your hands are in his hair, massaging his scalp while the credits roll.

“why is he so tired all the time?” abby pouts. “he works a lot,” you say. “but i’m sure he’ll wake up soon. why don’t you help me clean the fort up?”

“do i have to?” abby frowns. “i think mike would appreciate that,” you say.

“ugh, fine. but only if we can have pancakes for dinner.”

you grin and nod, “you got it.”

mike wakes up to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes. he twists and turns on the floor, the sizzle of bacon him bringing him into consciousness. he begins to open his eyes, his back beginning to ache from sleeping on the floor. he hears some giggling coming from the kitchen, sitting himself up on his elbow and peering over the couch. you’re at the stove, a spatula in your hand. abby’s sitting at the table, crayons littering the wood.

“look who’s up!” you exclaim. mike groans softly as he sits up, using the couch as a crutch to stand up. “i’m sorry i fell asleep. between the rain and the pillows —”

“shush,” you cut him off. he walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, his fingers tracing sliver of skin on the small of your back that’s exposed. “i ruined our day.”

“no, you didn’t. right, abs?” you turn to her. “you did snore a lot, but you didn’t,” she says. you smile at mike, “see? all is well.”

“smells good.” he mumbles as he wraps both arms around your waist, placing his chin onto your shoulder.

“me or the food?” you glance at him with a teasing smile. he takes a not-so-nonchalant inhale of your skin. “both,” he answers.

“ew!” abby grimaces behind you two. you and mike both laugh and he presses a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. he brings some plates and silverware out, sitting across from abby and waiting for the food.

mike stares as you two discuss abby’s drawing. he can’t wipe the smiles off of his face. his life was never perfect and he knew it was never going to be, but if he could just keep this — keep you two — he would then be able to call it perfect.

“mike,” abby says with a little pout. “what’s up?” he asks.

“do you have to go back to work tomorrow?” she asks. “i do, but you also have to go back to school,” he states.

“i don’t want to,” she says. mike sighs, the calmness from his body fleeting. “you don’t have a choice, abby. i’m sorry.”

“i… i just mean… i want this day to last forever.”

his eyes widen and glance up at you. you’re rubbing her back soothingly, giving him an encouraging smile.

“maybe we can do something special for dinner again tomorrow,” you suggest. “we can watch a movie and even eat dinner on the couch.”

abby’s face lights up and she nods. “okay! can i pick the movie again?”

“only if you don’t compare me to a dog again,” mike says. abby giggles and puts a forkful of pancakes in her mouth before speaking again. “we’ll see,” she quips.

mike looks back at you, placing his hand inside of yours on the table. your feet slides up his calf, your eyes soft as you look over his face. his heart warms and for the first time in a while, he feels at peace.

[charlesslut16]

-Visiting his family-

summary : you and lando visit his family on christmas but in the end you discover something unexpected...

PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i love this one sooooo much!

december masterlist ; masterlist   

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

You found yourself standing beside Lando Norris, your boyfriend and love of your life, anticipation tingling in the crisp winter air as you approached his family home for a special Christmas gathering.

The pathway was adorned with twinkling lights, guiding you towards a cozy house filled with warmth and laughter. Just standing in front of the home made you feel welcome and home.

As you step inside, the joyful chaos of a family reunion enveloped you. Lando's parents welcome you with open arms, their smiles infectious and their hugs genuine.

The aroma of holiday delights filled the air, enticing you towards the dining room, where a feast awaits. All the Norris family gathered on the table ready for the festive time.

The table was adorned with festive decorations, and you joined the Norris family for a delicious Christmas dinner. Conversations flowed effortlessly, stories and laughter intertwining in a symphony of happiness.

Lando's nieces and nephews, lively and full of energy, immediately took a liking to you. They tug at your hand, begging you to join their games, and soon enough, you're fully immersed in their world of giggles and imagination.

Lando watched with a soft smile, his heart-warming at the sight of you playing with the little ones. You caught his gaze, and there was a tender sparkle in his eyes, something that speaks of a future beyond this magical evening.

Lando loved children, and to his luck you loved them too. And now that you and Lando have been together for a while, he couldn't wait until you had children of your own.

As the night progresses, the family gathered around the Christmas tree. You distributed presents, each one carefully chosen and wrapped with love. Lando beamed as he watched his family unwrap their gifts, his happiness reflecting the joy of the moment.

Then, something changed. As you hold one of the youngest family members in your arms, cuddling and playing, Lando's expression shifted. There's a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes—a longing mixed with a newfound tenderness.

Later, while sipping hot cocoa by the fireplace, Lando leans in and whispers, "You're really amazing with them, you know? It's like you were born to bring happiness to kids."

A bashful smile graces your lips as you thanked him, feeling a warmth spread within you. The evening wore on, and as the clock ticked towards midnight, the house was filled with joyous laughter and heartfelt conversations.

Before the night drew to a close, Lando pulled you aside. His eyes searched yours earnestly as he took a deep breath. Your eyes clicked together and love and honesty just flowed.

"I think seeing you with them… it made me realize something," he began, his voice soft yet determined. "I want that, someday. A family… with you."

Your heart skipped a beat, feeling the weight and sincerity of his words. You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers as you shared a meaningful gaze, a silent understanding passed between you.

As you bid farewell to the Norris family, the memory of this beautiful Christmas lingers in your heart. It was more than just a festive evening; it was a glimpse into a future that might hold endless possibilities—a future that, with Lando by your side, could be filled with love, laughter, and the pitter-patter of little feet.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✦ love poem ✦

✦ Pairing: dad!choi san x pregnant!chubby!fem!reader w/ appearances by ot8

✦ Genre: fluff/light angst

✦ Summary: Being pregnant during the holidays has been hectic. Especially for your fiance San whose tight work schedule has him under pressure. But when his best friend Hwa steps in to ease the burden on him by being there for you, it creates more jealousy than Christmas cheer.

✦ Word Count: 3.5k-ish

✦ Warnings: pregnant reader, occasionally strong language, some quick lusting after San while he's in the shower (nothing graphic), & that's all.

✦ A/N: I really wanted to write something sweet with like the tiniest bit of angst so there's nothing heavy here. It's mostly just lovey dovey shit cause, I mean, I'm a lover girl. What can I say?

Standing at the entrance of the tunnel of lights, you watch in awe as thousands of tiny bulbs twinkle to the tune of the Christmas music that coasts along the night air. Every year the local zoo holds a massive festival of lights to celebrate the holiday season. During your first year here San had plans to take you to opening night but, with his schedule being as unpredictable as it is, that never did happen. This year though, he promised that nothing would stop you from experiencing this together and he meant it.

As much as San and the rest of the boys hyped this place up to you, nothing could’ve prepared you for how breathtaking it is in person. It’s magical. The carnival rides, the little Christmas themed games, the stalls selling some of the best food you ever tasted. And the displays. They’re pure art. It may be too cold for the animals to be out but the elaborate light sculptures of them make up for it tenfold. Children race through the light tunnels while couples cuddle up in line for hot cocoa. If ever “Winter Wonderland” were a place this would have to be it.

“Stop running!” Hongjoong yells from behind you. Seconds later Mingi and Jongho dart past you in a blur. You turn in time to see the look of defeat on Hongjoong’s face as he approaches with the others close behind. “I swear sometimes they act like children,” he groans, “Take it from me. Don’t have kids. It’s not worth it.” Popping on a pair of knit gloves, Yunho gestures towards the pregnant belly rounding out your thick winter coat. “I think that advice is about 7 months too late.”

Hongjoong gasps in horror, “Oh. I mean, you know, except that one. I’m sure it’ll be a cute little thing.” You can only giggle at how flustered any mention of your pregnancy gets him. Hongjoong hasn’t quite grasped that San’s about to be someone’s dad. Even as your belly has grown, he’s managed to periodically forget what’s happening but he’s trying to be supportive and it’s sweet. Seonghwa pats you softly on the belly, laying his head on your shoulder, “Pay him no mind. She’ll be a cute little baby. Not a thing. I mean, look at her mom”

"Oh, Hwa, you’re too sweet” you blush, patting him on the cheek. “The baby! I think it kicked!” He’s right. You felt it. It’s about that time of night after all. The moment she could start kicking she did. Especially around bedtime. Suddenly they’re all gathered close around you staring at your stomach as if the baby will burst out at this very moment like some alien spawn. Woo kneels down in front of you, resting his hand behind Hwa’s. “Aah!” he squeals, “She’s saying hi to her uncles. Hi, baby!”

By now Mingi and Jongho have circled back, stopping dead in their tracks to see what all the fuss is about. “What’s going on?” Jongho asks, Mingi’s hat clenched in his hand. Mingi snatches his hat back, peering over Jongho’s shoulder, “It’s not happening is it?” Seeing the panic in his eyes, you immediately jump to calm him down, “Not yet. She’s kicking up a fuss. That’s all.” “So much like her dad already” Yeosang teases, just as San appears to push them aside. “Hands off!” he orders, shooing them away, “I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you’re already crowding my kid.”

The others just laugh, not expecting to witness such a perfect example of Yeosang’s statement so soon. “You okay? Everything okay?” he asks, fixing the scarf around your next and popping your hood over your head. “Baby, it’s not that cold.” “Temperature’s supposed to drop 5 degrees in the next half hour. Gotta stay toasty, honey.” San’s always been attentive, doing everything he could to make sure you were taken care of but the pregnancy has kicked it into overdrive.

Taking his hands, you give him a warm peck on the lips and flash a smile that soothes his worries. “I’m okay, Sannie. I promise. Now let’s go.” The tunnel’s far more mesmerizing from the inside than it is simply looking in. It feels like a portal to a different world, replacing the darkness of the night sky with constellations of red and green that guide you to the next section of the zoo. Each area has one unique to the space you’re about to step into.

A tunnel of mistletoe and vines for the flower garden. One built like a giant sleigh for the reindeer village. And that’s not even half of it. How anyone can make it through this place in one night is beyond you. Then again, not everyone is toting another human around in their belly. By the time you make it through the ice tunnel into the replica North Pole, your feet are killing you but you try to hold it together.

Between doctor’s appointments, work, redecorating the apartment, and a million other things that need to be done before the baby arrives, there’s been zero time to do anything fun. Calling it quits this early feels wrong. Especially since San's been so stressed lately. Spending time with the guys seems to be just the thing he needed to shake some of that off.

“How many more lights do we have to see before we’ve seen enough?” Mingi whines, dragging his feet. Alright, so maybe someone else is as over it as you are. Yunho slaps Mingi on the back, taking a deep breath, “Have some holiday cheer! We’re in such a beautiful place. Where else would you rather be?” “Somewhere warm! With food!” Woo adds, backing Mingi up. Jongho jumps it, never one to miss the opportunity, “And drinks! When’s the last time we all had drinks together?”

Hongjoong crosses his arms, throwing them some wicked side eye, until he realizes, “Actually it has been a while since we went out for drinks.” Woo wraps his arms around Yeosang, determined to rope him into this plan, “You in? Say yes. Say yes!” “Yeah, sure fine, whatever” Yeosang laughs, shrugging him off. Hwa clears his throat, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, “Well it’s not just us you guys. There’s kinda a 10th person here now.”

For a fleeting moment, you were able to detect some excitement on San’s face and Hwa’s words wipe it away in an instant. Everyone falls silent, not quite sure what to do with the awkwardness of the moment. “Hey,” you say, lovingly rubbing San’s chest, “Why don’t you go get those drinks?” “What? No. I’m not leaving you. We said we’d do this.” “We did and I’ve had the best time but, honestly, my feet hurt like shit.” “Then I’ll take you home and run some water so you can soak your feet” San insists, guiding you out of the way of an approaching crowd.

“San, please, for the love of god, go” you beg, looking to his friends for support. “I’ll take her home!” Hwa volunteers, “I’m not really up for drinking anyway.” San glares skeptically back and forth between the two of you. He wants to protest but he gets the sense that arguing with you is a losing battle and he’s right. “Fine” he relents, “But text me when you get home. Love you.” The way you light up when he finally gives in is one of the infinite reasons why he loves you the way that he does. “I will. Love you too.” “Love you three!” “Love you four!” you say, kissing him before Jongho begins to drag him in the other direction. “We’re not doing this all night! Let’s go!”

Parting ways is a sea of goodbyes and bickering that continues until you lose sight of the rest of the group. Hooking his arm into yours, Hwa directs you towards a festive snack stand not too far away. “Wanna eat like trash before we go home?” he offers with a mischievous grin, knowing San would murder him if he knew. You nod, playfully tearing up, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

“Baby, have you seen my keys?” you shout from the bedroom, digging through your purse for the third time. “Huh?” San calls back, the water rushing from the shower making it impossible to hear you. Shuffling down the hall, you pop your head into the bathroom. “I was asking if you’d seen my keys.” San peeks from behind the shower curtain, shampoo bubbles dripping down his sculpted cheekbones. In an instant, you forget all about your keys. What else could possibly matter when San’s standing here dripping wet, every muscle in his defined chest glistening like gold. Snap out of it. This is how you got pregnant in the first place. 

“I saw them by the stove I think.” “Thanks, ya cutie” you wink, ready to skip off to find them. “Wait,” he says before you can make it more than a step and a half away, “You’re all dressed up. Where are you going?” Scanning your outfit, you don’t see anything particularly “dressed up” about what you’re wearing. Some knit overalls with a cozy sweater underneath and your favorite boots are far from red carpet ready in your mind. “Hwa’s taking me shopping for decorations. Don’t you remember?” San frowns, only vaguely remembering the conversation, “Why didn’t you ask me?” “I did but you said you were busy today so Hwa offered to take me.” 

Your phone dings in your pocket. You fish it out and find a text message from Hwa telling you he’s outside. “Ooh, speak of the devil. Gotta run.” Carefully, you make your way across the bathroom floor, giving him a kiss that you struggle to keep innocent with the knowledge of what’s behind the curtain. “Have fun and tell Joong I said hi! I’ll bring you back something!” you sing and you’re off to find your keys. San’s frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move an inch. Even after he’s heard the apartment door close, it takes him a second to get back to his shower.

It’s been two weeks since the light festival and you’ve seen Hwa every few days since. Every time San’s too busy to do something Hwa’s right there to help. When did he become so available? You always come home so happy too. Were you that happy with him? Letting the water wash over his head, he tries to shake away his jealous thoughts.

You moved here to be with him and, in that time, the only friends you’d made were his. Hwa’s just being a good friend to the both of you, helping when San’s unable to. Thinking that it's anything else is ridiculous. All of the long hours spent working must be getting to him. Hwa would never...

You would never...

Neither of you would...

Right? Right? 

Pregnancy hormones. They’re the one thing no one can ever quite prepare you for. One minute you’re hanging ornaments on the tree, humming along to your music in a cozy pair of pajamas. The next you’re crying on the kitchen floor, stuffing your mouth with the cookies you baked for the holiday party tomorrow.

It’s nearly midnight and everything makes you emotional. The lights on the tree are too bright, your feet feel swollen, the cookies aren’t as sweet as you'd like, and suddenly you can’t stand the song that’s playing despite it being one of your favorites. You want everything off but then the house would be quiet and empty. You’d be reminded that you’re all alone until San comes home tomorrow and cry even harder.

You pull out your phone to call him but when you see the time you decide not to. His flight is in a few hours and he’s already told you what a long day he had. You’d hate to wake him up, to burden him any more than you feel you already have.  Just as you’re about to put your phone down it lights up. A text from Seonghwa. Some adorable video of a cat dressed up as one of Santa’s elves.

The poor thing looks miserable running around in that costume but it makes you laugh enough to stop you from spiraling. Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the tears blurring your vision and shoot a text back. 

You: Thanks. I really needed that.

Hwa: Why? Something wrong?

You: I’m having a crying thing. Kinda sad tonight.

Hwa: Need some company?

Without thinking, you type out the words “You don’t have to—” before erasing them and typing out something new. "Sure!"

It takes him no time at all to reach you. The streets are empty this time of night and he only lives a half hour away. Even if he lived two hours away—three hours away—he’d drive every single one of them to come support you. When you became someone special to San, you became someone special to him too. He’s never seen San more serious about anything than he's been about you and this baby. As much as he wishes that San would get out of his head a bit more, it’s cute to see him love something so much. 

“Anybody home?” Hwa whispers, his eyes narrowing when he notices that your front door is cracked. “Come in” you sob from the couch, blowing your nose for what feels like the 1000th time since you sent that last text. Hwa follows a trail of discarded tissues to find you curled up on the couch, as curled as you can be this far along in your pregnancy. “Hey, hey, don’t cry” he coos, easing himself down onto the couch and resting your head in his lap, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You try to speak but you’re too short of breath to get anything out. Hwa strokes your hair, taking slow breaths in and out, “Follow me, okay? In and out.” You shake your head in protest. The whole room is closing in around you. You can’t do it. “Just try it. For me. Please” he begs so sweetly that you can’t refuse. Deep breath in, long breath out. The same way that they taught you in those birthing classes you went to. “This is total bullshit” you’d whispered to San at one point during the class but it turns out it isn’t bullshit at all. 

After a few seconds, the tightness in your chest eases and the room begins to open up. The world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re safe. Hwa sits with you in silence as your breathing quiets, dabbing away any rogue tears that drip down your cheeks. “Is San happy with me?” you ask, catching him off guard, “Is this too much for him, do you think?” Hwa laughs, knowing how extremely far from the truth both of those questions are. “Hwa, it’s not funny! I’m serious!” “I’m sorry! I’m not trying to make fun of you, it’s just—if you make him happy or not, that’s not a question. He’s crazy about you.”

Grabbing the small blanket folded over the back of the couch, he opens it up and tucks you in with it. “None of this is too much,” he swears, “You and her…” Hwa pokes your belly, making you giggle. “You guys are everything he’s ever wanted. He pushes himself so much because he wants to be perfect for you.” You yawn, Hwa’s presence and the warm blanket activating the exhaustion you’ve been fighting. “But he’s already perfect to me. Why can’t he see that?” “Mmm, it’s really hard sometimes to see ourselves the way other people do but he’ll come around. I promise.”

If there’s one similarity you’ve come to find between San and Hwa it’s how important promises are to them. If Hwa says he’ll come around then he will. They’d been friends for ages before you came into the picture. They’ve gone through more together than you can imagine. If Hwa's confident about it, then you have to believe it too. You drift off to sleep, your brain still spinning but much quieter now, trusting that everything will be just fine.

Right? Right? 

“Listen to yourself. You sound crazy!” Hwa snaps, trying his hardest not to raise his voice in the midst of his anger. San tosses his bags to the floor and they hit with a thud that shakes you from your sleep. “I come home to you cuddled up on the couch with her and I’m crazy?” “She texted me last night that she was crying. What was I supposed to do?” “Tell me! And let me take care of her! She’s not yours so stop treating her like she is!”

San’s jaw clenches, the jealousy he’s been harboring turning into true pain for the first time. He thought he had this under control. Those hours of talking with Woo about how stupid his suspicions were had chased off his insecurities. But coming in, tired and cranky from his flight, to see you so peacefully cuddled against Hwa had undone all of it. He wanted to kill him and the knowledge that he was the first one you reached for when you were hurting only adds fuel to the fire currently burning his self control to ash.

“Sannie?” you squeak, stretching out your cramped limbs, “What’s going on?” You sit up, eyes still squinted, to see what all of the fuss is about. Hwa hangs his head, unable to face you, “I think I should go. If you need me I’m here for both of you.” “Wait, no!” you say, doing your best to roll off of the couch and stop him but by the time you’re on your feet he’s gone. Turning your attention to San, you immediately sense his anger. Something happened and whatever it was has him fuming.

“Baby, what happened? You can talk to—” “Is there something going on between you two?” “What?” you laugh, placing your hands on your lower back for support. You keep laughing but the sharpness of his expression never changes. He’s actually waiting for an answer. “Oh god, you’re serious. You’re actually asking me if I’m fucking Seonghwa.” “I didn’t say that.” “But that’s what you’re saying. That’s what you think of me.”

You catch yourself wanting to cry again, only this time it isn’t because of the pregnancy hormones. It’s because you waited for days to see the man you love only to be accused of something like this. San can almost see the moment your heart breaks, making him regret his doubts in an instant. “He’s been helping me because I was worried about you burning yourself out. That’s it. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Your bottom lip quivers and the tears are rushing from your eyes again. “Fuck, I’m so tired of crying” you huff, flopping back down onto the couch. 

San’s at your side quicker than he’s ever been, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. “I’m sorry! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never do that.” “Then why were you two arguing? Why even ask me?” “Because I’m afraid” he admits, leaving you both shocked at his admission. He’s scared, terrified, so much that it keeps him up at night. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be and it was easier to be jealous than to admit that.”

You’re frustrated enough that you could slap him but your body feels so at home in his embrace that you can’t pull away. “You’re good enough for me…for us, San. You have to believe me when I say that.” “Then why do you call him when you’re crying and not me?” “Because,” you sigh, “I’m afraid too. I don’t want to lean on you too much.” “What? Lean on me too much?” he asks, almost offended, “Lean on me all you want. What do you think I work out for?”

You giggle when you feel his muscles flex against you, “San, be serious!” “I am! Lean on me, please. We’re a team. I need you to trust me to be here.” You stare at him, your eyes beautiful enough to hypnotize him even when they’re clouded with tears. “You have to trust me to be here too, you know?” San kisses your forehead, one hand gently massaging your back, “I trust you, baby.” Closing your eyes a tingly feeling washes over you. Is it love? The Christmas spirit? The tingling is chased by a contraction stronger than any period cramp you’ve ever felt.

“The baby’s coming!” you shout, gripping your stomach. San jumps back in shock as if he didn’t know you were pregnant to begin with. “Are you sure?” “You said you trust me!” “I do! I do! Hold on!” Leaning you back on the couch, San darts around the apartment collecting all of the things he’s prepared over the last few months to make you comfortable when this happens. A bag packed with clothes for you and your favorite slippers. Phone chargers, baby wipes, stuffed animals, the snacks you love. The list is endless.

“I’ll pull the car up and come back for you, okay?” he says, propping your feet up on the coffee table as he tries to put your coat on. “Just get the car. I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m sure and San,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Yeah?” “You’re gonna be a great dad. The best ever.” San can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face or the slight reddening of his cheeks. You believe in him, you truly do, and for the first time, he does too.