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[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Fire in My Blood

Bane x Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Word count: 4908

Warnings: 18+, Non-con drug use, fuck or die (sort of), slight dub-con (but not really), unprotected sex, mainly PWP, unbeta'd

A/N: my first time writing smut so be gentle

You woke up in bed, slow and groggy. The pain in your head was rolling through you in waves and you thanked your drunk self for at least closing the curtains so there wasn’t too-bright sunlight burning through your eyelids. Idly, you hoped that whatever you couldn’t remember doing last night was worth a hangover this size. You shifted to cradle your head in your hands but your hands didn’t move. Panic washed over you, sudden and icy. Your hands were trapped above your head. 

Forcing the panic aside, you tried to take in your surroundings. You didn’t want to open your eyes yet, in case you were being watched, so you listened hard for something, anything, to tell you where you were. 

No footsteps, no shuffling, no breathing outside your own. Aside from our hands, you were lying comfortably on what you assumed was a bed, complete with a pillow under your head and a blanket that smelled freshly laundered. The room felt bigger than your bedroom and you could hear a kind of white noise outside the walls, getting louder and softer in intervals like–

Waves. Water. 

You must be near the docks. Probably one of the abandoned warehouses frequented by one of Gotham’s handful of criminal enterprises. 

Speaking of criminals, you thanked your lucky stars for the recent training in analyzing and understanding your environment from the man that still sent chills down the spine of most Gothamites. 

You didn’t understand how you had caught Bane’s attention but you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it. It took some time between your underground meetings and the handful of times he visited your apartment through the fire escape but you had molded a sort of companionship. He was gentler with you when you weren’t training. The glimpses you got of Bane the Man and not just Bane the Weapon had inklings of longing for something more worming their way into your heart but you squashed them to the best of your ability. You knew who Bane was and knew he could never see you as something more than what you had. 

Taking a steadying breath, you slowly opened your eyes. Only a sliver of the room was visible through your eyelashes at first but you didn’t see anyone else around. You blinked your eyes open and looked toward your hands.

Plastic zip ties held you to the metal headboard, biting into your wrists. You flexed lightly, testing their strength, when a door to your left opened and a man in a long white lab coat walked in.

Jonathan Crane was an objectively handsome man. The whole evil mad scientist thing left a lot to be desired although, knowing him, he probably had a drug for that too. His attention was on a clipboard he was carrying. Talking to himself in soft murmurs, he strode confidently over toward your bed. 

“Ah look who’s awake!” He finally looked up at you and smiled, full and genuine. “Perfect timing.” His gaze raked over you, cool and calculating, and it made your skin crawl, suddenly aware that you were dressed in only your bra and panties from the night before. The thought of Crane undressing you while you were unconscious had bile rising in your throat. 

“What am I doing here?” you fought to keep your voice steady. 

“I needed a guinea pig for something I’ve been working on lately. I was out looking for suitable candidates last night and saw you out with your friends.”

Something must have shown on your face because Crane waved his hand dismissively. “They aren’t here. They had too much alcohol in their systems and it would’ve taken too long for it to metabolize. I couldn’t risk that altering my results.”

Now your blackout made more sense. You had been out with a small group of friends at a bar just celebrating the end of the work week. Things had gotten a little fuzzy but you just assumed it was due to one too many margaritas. Crane must have slipped something into your drink.

Anger flooded you. “You kidnapped me to use me as a test subject?”

“You shouldn’t sound so ungrateful! You’re helping the cutting edge of science! Of understanding the human brain!” He sounded so earnest as if he truly believed in his work without a care in the world that he kidnapped you for it. 

The panic you had been fighting down, hit you like a train. You were trapped on a bed with a madman who had plans for you and no one knew where the hell you were. You wondered how long it would be until anyone found your body. You had to get out. 

“I needed you to be awake before I started the test, though,” he explained. “It will be much easier to judge how quickly the effects start if you're conscious.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a syringe and vial. The pale purple, syrupy liquid in the vial seemed to swirl as Crane pulled it into the syringe, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

With the dose measured out, he turned back to you. You shifted as far away as your binds would allow, inadvertently pressing yourself further into the mattress.

“You’re a smart man,” you tried to reason with him, “You know who I spend my time with.” 

Explicitly connecting yourself to Bane wasn’t something you wanted to do - whatever you two had felt tenuous at best - but desperate times call for desperate measures. No one would be dumb enough to touch someone with any direct connection to the man, right?

“Oh, yes, I know,” Crane’s smile was predatory, “and I’m counting on him coming to save his little pet.”

His palm pressed the side of your face into the pillow, keeping your neck extended even as you thrashed against the bed. The needle pierced the tender skin and Crane’s eyes glittered in the dim light as he released the drug into you. 

“You crazy bastard!” Your wrists were bleeding freely now, slow trickles running down your forearms and dripping onto the sheets as you continued to try and pull yourself free.

Whatever he gave you didn’t hit all at once. It started in your chest, warm and slow, and radiated outward, but warm grew into too hot all too quickly, curled around your lungs and ribs, and squeezed. Your breath stuttered on the next exhale. Part of you expected to see smoke trailing out between your lips. Liquid fire pooled low in your stomach and you were suddenly, painfully, aroused.

“What the fuck?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, overpowering Crane’s monologuing no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on it. Fire raced in your veins and you pulled against your restraints, sparks licking your wrists. 

Through the haze in your brain you could barely make out Crane talking about Lust and Fever and Sex and Orgasm and Death. Even firing on all cylinders, you didn’t know if you could find a good combination of those words. 

Something in the distance caught his attention and he grinned like a shark, all predator and sharp teeth. Crane knew what it meant too. 

“He’s gonna tear you apart,” you hissed. 

“Oh, on the contrary,” he spoke slowly and looked in your eyes, making sure you understood every word, a condescending lilt in his tone, “I think he’ll send me a thank you gift after this.”

He left with a chuckle that sent a chill down your spine even with the growing furnace inside you. 

With Crane out of sight, you squirmed to try and break the zip ties again but the new sensations had you gasping. Your wrists didn’t hurt so much anymore and what little pain made it through to your awareness landed just on the side of pleasurable.  The blanket underneath you rubbed against you everywhere, everywhere, and your cheeks flamed when you noticed the wetness in your panties. You tried to force yourself to lay still - to stop and think about your next move - but your hips rolled anyway, searching for friction you wouldn’t find. 

You squeezed your thighs together, chasing the orgasm you could feel rushing at you just beyond your reach. The coil snapped and it flowed through you like cool water down your parched throat. It broke the haze just briefly. You gasped a breath like coming up out of water.

If it was possible for you to blush further, you would’ve when you opened your eyes and were met with Bane’s. How much had he seen? 

The man stood over you, stoic as ever, and gave nothing away. He watched you silently, taking in everything.

“This is not one of his usual toxins.” He finally spoke. It wasn't a question but you shook your head anyway. 

“He said it was something he had been working on.” You swallowed hard, fighting a shiver. "He didn't start really talking until he had already drugged me and I couldn’t focus. Something about fever and sex and death but..." you trailed off, nervous and unwilling to really finish that sentence. Shaking your head was a mistake you learned as nausea hit you. “Needed a test subject.”

Bane nodded slowly, hard eyes glinting off the light as he looked around the room. “There’s a camera,” he mused. “He’s watching.”

“Sick fuck,” you seethed. 

Bane huffed out something that could’ve been a laugh and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. You startled both of you by moaning lowly. His touch was like a soothing balm and lit match against your nerves at the same time. 

His eyes were on your face but his fingers didn’t move.  

“Fuck, I’m sorry- I don’t know-,” you stuttered. “Can’t think- Too fucking hot.” You clenched your teeth, cutting off the half-formed thoughts you couldn’t stop.

Calloused fingers brushed across your forehead and you bit back a whimper. 

“You have a fever.”

You nodded, eyes shut tight. There was a heavy pause.

“You are…aroused.”

You turned your face away from him but nodded again, shame rocketing through you. Tears fell against your will.

“Please just get me out of here,” you whispered.

The zip ties snapped easily under his hands and you had to clamp down on your mind straying to thoughts of feeling those rough fingers on your skin again. Your core throbbed at the mental image alone. You couldn’t help rubbing your thighs together, breath hitching. Vaguely, you realized you were gasping out a string of apologies when Bane shushed you, just a hiss leaking out of his mask.

“You are not in control of your body. Do what you must.” The words came out stiff, barely contained anger tingeing them but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you.

Dark eyes met yours as you searched his face, needing to see if he was serious. His sincerity was open and unwavering. The weight of his hand settled on your stomach, the warmth of his palm bleeding into the coil inside you and snapping it just as soundly as the zip ties. 

Your eyes rolled back and you groaned as that cooling wave shook through you, quieter this time. 

“It will be easier if I carry you out but it may be…uncomfortable for you.”

“Do what you must,” you parroted his words with a weak smile, hoping for levity.

A silent nod was the only reply and he was wrapping you up in the blanket you had been laying on. The texture was scratchy and it insulated the heat of your skin but you bit your tongue. Strong arms lifted you effortlessly. You buried your face in the blanket and settled against his chest as he moved. 

It was a position you had found yourself in before. You had a habit of falling asleep in places you shouldn’t and he often carried you to a place that wouldn’t have your back or neck screaming at you when you woke up. On one particular occasion, you had fallen asleep slumped over on the couch in your apartment and floated to awareness being lifted and carried to your bedroom. You felt like a child again, protected and cared for. Your nose pressed into his jaw, just under the line of his mask. He had laid you gently on your bed, still unmade from the morning, and brought the duvet up to your chin. You had tried to fight your way to full consciousness.

“Stay,” you breathed, afraid he wouldn’t hear. Afraid that he would hear and leave anyway. After a beat, the other side of your bed dipped with his weight, half laying, half sitting up against the pillows. You had rolled into him, soaking up his warmth. Later, you would  blame pressing your face into his chest on the fact that you had still been on the wrong side of consciousness.

His hand tentatively rested on your shoulder as if he didn’t know what to do with it. You let out a light hum, hoping to reassure him. A smile almost slid over your lips when his palm slid down along your spine to settle at the center of your back. 

Just before you slipped back into sleep, you swore you felt him press his mask against the crown of your head. 

“Little one,” Bane’s voice brought you out of the fog in your brain, “Are you with me?” 

You blinked your eyes open and lifted your head from the blanket cocoon. 

“Always,” you replied. You became mildly aware that you were in your apartment but you didn’t remember how you got there. How long had you been lost in your head?

“My men are taking care of Crane,” he said. You both knew what he meant but the fewer specifics you knew, the better. “Barsad will make sure that nothing from the camera he had in that room will be seen by anyone.” His grip on you tightened. “He will never touch you again.”

He deposited you on your bed and was standing over you once again. He didn't show any outward emotion. You didn't know what to say or how. 

"I'm sorry." You said anyway. It came out small and weak. Hell, you weren't even sure what you were sorry for. Getting kidnapped? Not being able to get out of the situation yourself? 

Your head was too full of feelings you didn't understand. You couldn't think straight. You had never been more aware of your own body before. The lingering feeling of Bane’s arms around you, the godawful blanket. You swore you could feel your blood flowing in your veins. 

Light fingertips ghosted across your forehead, pressing lightly on the creases between your eyebrows, and your eyelids fluttered closed. You bit your lip. 

"Does it hurt when I do this?" He moved his hand from your forehead to your wrist. His thumb rubbing just under the wound that the zip tie left. 

You shook your head, not trusting your ability to make any noise that wasn't wholly embarrassing. 

"I need to hear you say it." 

You swallowed hard. "No, it doesn't hurt. It’s like my body can't decide if it feels amazing or like I'm holding it next to an open flame." You rushed out. 

“What do you need?” he asked after a heavy pause.

A simple question that had your head spinning. Rapid fire flashes of his large frame over you, under you, those rough hands all over you, inside you. You bit down on a moan, nearly biting through your lip.

“Just talk to me. Please.” It came out shaky and too vulnerable. 

His brows furrowed. “That will not help with the effects of the toxin.”

Resolutely keeping your lips shut tight, another tear escaped down your cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. 

“I cannot just sit by and do nothing when you’re suffering.”

You shook your head, the action making your head swim. “I can’t ask that of you. I won’t.”

His hand settled on your stomach. The pressure sent waves through you. The fire in your core roaring anew.

“You don’t have to ask. You just have to let me.”

Your glassy, tired eyes met his dark, earnest ones as you searched for something, anything, that would give you reason to say no. You weighed the option of just letting the toxin do what it would instead of ruining what you and he had. 

But you couldn’t deny that you wanted what he was offering.

“Okay.” You nodded lightly. 

You hissed as he shifted the blanket off of you. It felt like sandpaper against your highly sensitive skin. His gaze flicked up to you but kept on his mission, lightly tracing his fingers up your thighs. It might've tickled a little if you had a better handle on your nerves. 

There was only a slight pause in his movements before he was bending down to pull his boots off and then joining you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. His eyes searched your face as he spread your thighs, placing one of your legs on either side of his hips. You fought down every bit of embarrassment you could feel burning red on your cheeks and looked away.

“No,” he spoke softly but clearly. A calloused finger under your chin turned you back to meet his gaze. “Don’t look away, little one. You need to stay present and tell me if I do anything to hurt you or if you need me to stop. I want to help, not cause more harm. Understand?”

Only after you gave a small nod did he release your chin and return his hands to your inner thighs, higher than before. His thumbs rubbing small circles mere inches from where you needed him.

His eyes caught on the damp patch darkening the fabric of your panties. He made a single slow pass over your center with his thumb. You bit down on the inside of your cheek and let out a rough exhale, your fists curling into the sheets.

“Try to relax,” he rumbled, gaze flicking up to your face and back down. “I understand this must be unpleasant for you but fighting the toxin will prolong the effects and may make it worse.”

A whine escaped your clenched teeth as you forced your muscles to relax. His thumb began slow, even circles over your clit, like a reward. Pleasure rose quickly now that you had stopped pushing it down. 

 “Nothing said or done here will leave this room,” he assured you. “You are safe to do what you need to get through this.” He hooked a finger around damp fabric and pulled your panties to the side. The first brush of a callused fingertip sent a jolt up your spine. “Tell me that you understand.”

Your hips rocked minutely, chasing his touch. “I understand.” 

“Good girl.”

His finger slid inside you in one push and your walls tightened around him, sending you over the edge again. You couldn't be embarrassed about the noise you made even if you tried.

The toxin’s haze faded marginally again. In all honesty, you had hoped that an orgasm brought on by someone else would have been all it would take but, of course, Crane’s concoctions are never that simple.

As many times as you indulged fantasies of Bane in your bed, though you would never admit it aloud, you didn't want it to happen like this. Not when it was only like an obligation for him. 

The finger steadily pumping inside you became two and the stretch brought you out of your thoughts with a whine. 

Bane slowed but didn’t stop. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, it’s just a lot,” you reassured him, moaning around the last word when picked up his pace again. “It’s like I’m feeling everything double or triple.”

“It’s good then?” 

He curled his fingers slightly, searching. 

“So good.” You choked on a gasp when he found the spot inside you that made your toes curl. Those rough fingertips massaged tight circles around it while his thumb copied the movement around your clit. 

Moans flowed from your lips unhindered. One of your hands reached down to clutch at his wrist while the other tightened in the sheets. 

You could feel the crest coming but it was just out of reach. Your head thrashed on the pillow, grinding your teeth. 

"Fuck, I can't. It's not-" you stopped with a whine, tears gathering in your eyes. Your hips rolled of their own accord in search of friction.

“It’s not enough,” he finished for you. 

"Crane told me that you'd send him a thank you gift for this." You blurted out. "Like this was something you wanted."

He froze. 

“He’s wrong, right? Of course he is,” you rambled, squeezing your eyes shut tight. “You don’t want this. Why the hell would you? I’m just me. An annoyance even on a good day, a hindrance on any other. I’m not-” 

Pressing his hand over your lips, he stopped your rambling. 

"Not like this." It was quiet but you heard it, you knew you did. Your gaze met his again and you just stared at him for a heartbeat then two, willing yourself to take a chance. Telling yourself it would be worth it. 

Fuck it. If it goes wrong, you can just blame it on the toxin.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling yourself further toward him. Your heat pressed against the obvious tent in the front of his pants. His hand fell from your lips as you dragged yourself up to him, close enough to share breath.

“Please.” You ran your nose along his cheek and quickly unhooked your bra. His eyes flicked down briefly once the lace was removed and laying on the floor.

“Little one,” he murmured.

"You're the only person I would trust with this." You pressed a firm kiss to the front of his mask.

A harsh breath hissed out from behind the grate. He took only a brief pause to gather himself before moving off the bed stripping quickly. Your eyes raked over every inch of newly exposed skin. Lightly tanned, criss-crossed with scars, and stretched over his wide frame and well-built muscles. You’d seen him shirtless before under much different circumstances and it was a sight you had guiltily used on nights when you were alone and you knew this was something that you would add to your shameful late night fantasies until the day you died. 

His cock slapped against his stomach as his pants hit the floor. The sight alone had a whimper crawling up your throat. He was thick, flushed red and leaking, and you couldn’t tell if the need to feel him inside you was more the toxin or your own. 

Your breath caught when his fingertips curled into the top hem of your panties. His gaze held yours until the lace joined his pants on the floor and he returned to his spot between your thighs.

He wrapped a hand around himself, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Are you with me?” His eyes searched yours.

“Always,” you breathed. 

He filled you slowly, measured, careful, and watching your face the entire time. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you and he was acutely aware of the size difference between the two of you. His fingers flexed against your thighs, keeping you still in his grasp. 

Even with the toxin’s effects on you, the stretch of Bane filling you had a twinge of discomfort filtering through the pleasure otherwise washing over you. 

He finally bottomed out and you let out a low groan. You couldn’t decide where to keep your hands and they flitted from his shoulders to the bedsheets to his forearms to his abs, anything you could touch. Maybe if you found something to hold on to, you could keep yourself from floating away. 

Bane grunted as you clenched around him and minutely ground his hips into you. 

“Shit, move please,” your fingers dug into his forearms. 

You expected him to be rough and fast. Simply chasing release with his mission as a sole focus. But this was something else entirely. He was still focused but his mission was you, not just getting off. He was curled over you, forehead pressed into your shoulder, caging you in with his forearms and rolling his hips into you. It felt amazing.

But it wasn’t enough. You could tell he was holding back, even if it was for your sake, and, if this was the only time you got to experience Bane like this, you wanted all of him.

“Bane, baby, please.” You gripped the back of his neck and pulled his face up from its hiding place. Flicking your eyes up to meet his wild ones, you planted a firm kiss onto his mask, running the tip of your tongue along the grate. “I’m not gonna break.” You dug your heels into his ass, urging him on. His eyes darkened at your words, pupils already blown wide. His hips snapped forward with a grunt, forcing a gasp from between your lips. He levered up on his knees, towering over you, as he pulled out almost entirely and wrapped your hips in a bruising grip. 

A growl slid out from behind his mask as he looked down at you.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned out. Your eyes rolled back when he filled you again, impossibly deeper than before. 

Long gone was the caring pace he had set before. Every one of your favorite fantasies of rough sex with Bane couldn’t compare to the real thing. Part of you was already excited to see the vibrant bruises you’d find on your hips later. 

Bane’s angle was perfect, the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot with devastating precision. 

“Oh fuck, right there, please.” Your fingers curled around his wrists and your back arched up off the bed. 

You bit your lip hard to try and stop the string of embarrassing whines escaping with every powerful thrust. 

“No,” something akin to a snarl clawed out of Bane’s throat.

He pinned your wrists above your head, holding you fast with one hand. He ran the thumb of his other over your bottom lip, spit-slicked and bitten red, and pulled it from between your teeth. 

“I want to hear every single noise of pleasure you make,” he growled. 

You caught his thumb between your teeth and curled your tongue around it. His fiery gaze dropped to your lips as you sucked, drawing the calloused pad deeper into your mouth.

“I’ve heard those pretty sounds fall out of your lips countless times, I’ve heard you call my name at night, don’t you dare hide them from me now.”

He hooked his thumb behind your teeth and pulled down. A hard snap of his hips forced a loud cry from between your lips. 

“Good girl.” He chuckled darkly.

He released your jaw and trailed his hand down your neck. His fingers found your nipple, spit-slick thumb circling the bud before pinching it between rough fingers. You squirmed beneath him as he twisted and pulled, the bite of pain only serving to amplify the pleasure coursing in your blood. He showed the same treatment to your other nipple and you fought weakly against the hold he had on your wrists. 

“Please, fuck, please,” you moaned. At this point, you didn’t even know what you were begging for. Your head was fuzzy with the tightening of the coil in your stomach. Each drag of his cock inside you, each grind against your clit, feeling wholly and solely overwhelmed by the man above you, nothing else existed outside this moment. 

“Let go, little one,” he purred. He reached down and rubbed tight circles over your clit. “Give it to me. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

You screamed his name as the knot in your core snapped hard and your vision went white. Bane snarled and buried himself to the hilt finding his own release as you lost yourself in the waves of your orgasm crashing one after another. 

Floating back to yourself, you felt a firm body under your cheek and tentative fingertips tracing along your back. 

The toxin had burned itself out, no longer smoldering in your core. Now, you were afraid. Was all that just because of the toxin? Had Bane just reacted to you? Of course, he had offered but what if none of it really meant anything to him? Hell, it probably didn’t. Just a means to an end.

You didn’t realize you had started shivering until Bane moved you to lay over him and wrapped his arms and the duvet around you. 

You slid your hands under his shoulders and pressed your face into his neck. 

“Are you with me?” you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

A beat of silence and his arms tightened around you. 

“Always.”

The talk that both of you knew needed to happen, could wait just a little while longer. For now, you were content to stay in the moment. You placed a slow line of kisses down his neck and pressed your nose into the juncture of his shoulder instead. 

“Sleep now, little one,” he rumbled beneath you. 

Just before unconsciousness took you, you felt him press his mask into the crown of your head. 

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar Day 4 - Hallmark Movie

(Just a little something that's been floating in my head.)

(Stranger Things, Steddie, fluff)

Word Count ~230

Steve grew up watching Hallmark movies with his mom. She would always joke and tell him to pay attention because they would give him tips to use with his wife later in life. He took it to heart, even almost looking forward to being able to give someone a “Hallmark Movie” Christmas, but after Nancy, he kind of gave up that hope. Until Eddie.

Eddie rolled his eyes at Hallmark movies. They were cheesy and predictable as hell and he just didn’t understand the appeal. Once, he caught Wayne watching one and teased the man relentlessly for years. He knew he’d never get swept up in any Christmas romance worthy of Hallmark. But along came Steve.

Turns out that date to go find the perfect Christmas tree? The look of triumph on Steve’s face was worth every second. Inviting their found family over to decorate it while drinking spiked eggnog and singing carols off-key? The warmth that settled in Eddie’s chest when he looked around the room filled with people he’d give anything for made his eyes prickle with surprised tears. And getting caught under mistletoe with Steve when they were bringing in cups of hot chocolate topped in whipped cream for everyone? He’ll remember the blush painting Steve’s cheeks after Eddie laid one on him until his last day. 

Maybe the cheesy Christmas stuff wasn’t so bad after all.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar Day 2 - "Snow"

(Stranger Things, Steddie, fluff, unbeta'd)

Word count: ~530

Eddie had a love/hate relationship with being outside in the snow. The cold seeped through his denim and leather and into his bones. The wind turned his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink and made his eyes water. He could never seem to shove his hands far enough into his pockets, occasionally bringing them out to breathe into them, hoping to trap the heat in his palms and thaw out his fingers.

Watching the snowfall at night was his favorite part. Seeing the flakes tumble and swirl in the wind, dancing in the glow of a full moon or even just the streetlights. He’d let his mind wander then, briefly feeling as light and free as the snow he was entranced with. 

Steve had of course noticed Eddie’s eyes flit out the window every so often, waiting for the inevitable snow the weatherman had warned was coming. He found his boyfriend’s fascination with the snow to be endearing. They usually watched it blow in from the safety and comfort of inside. 

“It’s pretty but that doesn’t mean I need to be cold to enjoy it, Steve,” Eddie had explained when Steve asked if he wanted to go outside during the first snowfall of the season. 

Steve was determined this time. At the very first sign of a flake, he had practically dragged Eddie out into the night, both of them bundled in their coats and scarves and mittens. (Eddie’s scarf and mittens were a matching set that Steve had bought for him the year previous. They were black with little skulls on them and as soon as Steve saw them, he knew Eddie had to have them.) Eddie grumbled lightly but didn’t put up any real fight and Steve could see the soft smile he was trying to bite down.

They walked quietly beside each other, shoulders bumping with every few steps, just enjoying each other’s company. Steve reached out and caught Eddie’s hand as it came down from futilely trying to brush snowflakes out of his hair. Without a word, he pulled it into his own pocket. He squeezed his fingers around Eddie’s and cast a glance over when Eddie squeezed back. 

Large flakes had trapped themselves in Eddie’s dark curls, standing out even in the low light of the night. A few had even caught on his lashes, drawing even more attention to those expressive brown eyes that Steve could already get lost in so easily. 

A flush that had nothing to do with the cold painted Eddie’s cheeks when he noticed Steve still staring at him. He ducked his head, burying his nose in his scarf. 

Chuckling softly, Steve pulled them to a stop and gently tugged it back down. Leaning in close, he rubbed his cold nose along Eddie’s before pressing a soft kiss to his wind-chapped lips and replacing the scarf. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open again, meeting his boyfriend’s gaze, and he was immensely happy the scarf was back in place to cover the surely dopey smile he couldn’t fight even if he wanted to.

Eddie had a love/hate relationship with being outside in the snow but he’d deal with it every single day if it meant Steve looking at him like that.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

"Christmas lights" - Day 1

(Stranger Things, Steddie, Ronance, unbeta’d Christmas fluff)

Word count: ~720

Mrs. Harrington would clutch her pearls at the mere idea of using any Christmas lights other than white bulbs on green wire. The wire blended perfectly with the green foliage of the artificial tree they had (A real tree was too much maintenance when you’re away from home so often and they were much too dirty for her pristine house) and allowed for the soft glow of the lights to come through and draw focus to the decorations she paid a pretty penny to have a professional hang. 

Steve, however, had clung to a vivid childhood memory of twinkling, multi-colored lights on a tree just big enough for him to decorate himself with whatever ornaments he wanted. That memory was what found him in the basement, searching through meticulously organized and labeled boxes searching for even a single strand of those lights. Finally, in a long-forgotten corner, he found his childhood packed away and covered in dust.

He set the last box down in the living room just before a loud knock came from the front door. 

Red-faced and bundled against the wind, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie rushed inside as soon as Steve had the door cracked. 

“Christ, I swear I’m gonna freeze my fingers off out there,” Eddie grumbled, exhaling hard over his hands.

“Wouldn’t want that,” Steve smirked, “might need another guitar solo to save the world some day. There’s hot cocoa and cider in the kitchen. Help yourselves.” He swept a hand vaguely toward the kitchen but led the way anyway.

Steve and Nancy smiled over cups of cider with cinnamon sticks and watched Robin and Eddie see who could make a bigger mountain of whipped cream and marshmallows on their cocoa. Eddie crowed when Robin’s tower ended up on the counter. 

Now cozy and warm, they made their way into the living room. 

The tree Steve bought wasn’t very big but he was still immensely proud of it. His first real tree. If needles ended up in the carpet, well, his mom didn’t have to know. And he would get to decorate it with the family he chose. 

They each took a box and started unpacking. Ornaments, garland, small trinkets, and of course, those lights Steve remembered so well.

The lights came out of the box in a ball of wire and rainbow bulbs. The pout on Eddie’s face sent Robin into a fit of giggles. Covering her face when a soft snort escaped. 

“I swear, they tangle themselves in the box,” he huffed but started untangling them nonetheless, nudging a still laughing Robin with his foot. 

It took some work and a few choice words but they managed to get all the tangles and kinks out of the garland and lights. Nancy and Robin weaved around each other effortlessly, stringing them up the tree, stealing quick kisses whenever they passed each other on their way around. Eddie and Steve made sure no ornament was left behind in the boxes, laying them all out. 

No real rhyme or reason was put into ornament placement. If it looked good and fit, that’s where it belonged.

They giggled and shared stories as they worked. Family memories and traditions, stories of the Party that Eddie didn’t know yet but they wanted to include him in. At one point they started singing carols in the worst ways possible and their cheeks and ribs hurt from how much they were laughing. 

When the last ornament found its place, Steve bent to plug in the lights.

“Ready?” He grinned at his friends. Robin bounced on her toes, jostling Nancy and Eddie on either side of her. They all nodded, smiling back at him. 

The tree was bright in the dimly lit room, winking colors into the corners that haven’t looked lived in since as long as Steve could remember. 

Standing to admire their work, Steve slid an arm around Eddie’s waist and pressed a kiss to his temple. His other arm went over Robin’s shoulders, his hand coming to rest on Nancy’s shoulder next to her. He tugged them all close, a wide grin on his face, and if anyone noticed him wipe the moisture from his eyes, they just held him closer. 

Steve was determined to make new memories and promised to himself to never let them end up packed away in a box again. 

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

FRUITY FOUR ADVENT CALENDAR

It’s december!!! TIME TO GET FESTIVE ☃️

I’m super excited to announce that you can all join my advent’s art / writing challenge: every day from 1 December till Christmas Eve will have a specific theme for which you can make any kind of art - think drawings, fics, comics, headcanons, literally anything is good!

How does it work? Basically you can pick whichever theme(s) you feel like participating in and post your art / writing on the right day so we’ll have amazingly festive dashes throughout all of December. You can be as creative with the themes as you want, there are no rules except for vaguely sticking to the theme of the day and keeping your stuff fruity four centric 😄

Please post your content under the tag #StrangerThingsFestiveFun which I share with @thefreakandthehair​ -> make sure to check out her winter fic challenge here bc it’s really cool! I’ll be keeping an eye on the tag and reblogging like crazy throughout december!

You can find the themes below the cut. Even though it’s an advent thing, I wanted to make it as inclusive as possible, so there’ll be plenty of non-Christmas centric themes to make sure as many people as possible feel welcome to participate.

(And lastly, feel free to reblog this post as signal boost!)

Keep reading

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Cora Hale (mentioned), Original Stilinski Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Craigslist, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Thanksgiving, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Canonical Character Death, anxiety attack, Strangers to Lovers, Victim Blaming, of a sort, Some angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

Everyone has shitty family that they only see around the holidays. Stiles dreads going to his alone.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Okay so I’ve started writing a Steddie fic that is the same AU as a Sterek fic I previously wrote and I’m afraid of them ending up too similar. I don’t want it to seem like I just switched out the names :/

It’s kinda killing my motivation to write it…

Send help…

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Pre-Relationship, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Songfic, Fluff, First Kiss Summary:

Robin drags Steve to a Corroded Coffin show. The night absolutely exceeds his expectations.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

39 days until NaNoWriMo

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Me: “but if I write /that trope/ no one is gonna want to read it because there’s so many other fics with /that trope/“

Also me: *can, have, and will read a thousand versions of the same trope because I love it*

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Pre-Relationship, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Songfic, Fluff, First Kiss Summary:

Robin drags Steve to a Corroded Coffin show. The night absolutely exceeds his expectations.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Pre-Relationship, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Songfic, Fluff, First Kiss Summary:

Robin drags Steve to a Corroded Coffin show. The night absolutely exceeds his expectations.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

When you see that people are reading your work:

When you get the email that someone has commented:

When you read the comment and it’s the nicest, kindest, most generous comment in the world:

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

This doesn’t seem to be very popular but I kinda love it so I’m sharing it again sue me

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: The Pack (Teen Wolf)
Additional Tags: Feel-good, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Getting Together, First Kiss, Sleepy Cuddles, Cuddling, Fluff, just fluff, Idiots in Love
Summary: Of all the supernatural shit that Beacon Hills had seen, the completely non-supernatural snow was more surprising. Cue playing in the snow, Hallmark movies, pack cuddles.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Cora Hale (mentioned), Original Stilinski Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Craigslist, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Thanksgiving, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Canonical Character Death, anxiety attack, Strangers to Lovers, Victim Blaming, of a sort, Some angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

Everyone has shitty family that they only see around the holidays. Stiles dreads going to his alone.

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Tags: @all-or-nothing-baby (don’t know if you’d be interested it being tagged on all my Sterek fics but thought I’d tag you just in case)

It's a Fake Boyfriend, Charlie Brown!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35Y36eq

by IndecisiveAndUncreative

Everyone has shitty family that they only see around the holidays. Stiles dreads going to his alone.

Words: 3715, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Cora Hale (mentioned), Original Stilinski Character(s)

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Craigslist, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Thanksgiving, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Canonical Character Death, anxiety attack, Strangers to Lovers, Victim Blaming, of a sort, Some angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35Y36eq

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: The Pack (Teen Wolf)
Additional Tags: Feel-good, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Getting Together, First Kiss, Sleepy Cuddles, Cuddling, Fluff, just fluff, Idiots in Love
Summary: Of all the supernatural shit that Beacon Hills had seen, the completely non-supernatural snow was more surprising. Cue playing in the snow, Hallmark movies, pack cuddles.