#little ficlet

[niceminipotato]

Was just scrolling and there was this prompt list and so my brain did the braining thing.

Forever

You had arrived at the castle on a cold winter evening. Everyone had warned you to stay away from the dark watcher of the village. You would have listened if anyone had actually accepted you as you were. If anyone actually had wanted you.

It had been too long since you had felt at home back in your small family’s shack. One too many times you had been ignored or called a disgusting nuisance. One too many times you had been beaten and dragged through the mud left to sleep out in the frigid weather just because of who you were. You had hoped and prayed that change would come but it never did and after years of misery you had enough.

Things in the castle weren’t all that good but for some reason it felt like a safe place to be at. Even with the sadistic and murderous lady of the castle and her daughters. At least in the castle you weren’t thrown out to the cold. You were given a place to sleep, fed, and warm. If you did your work and stuck to the rules you were fine and the head maid had already adopted you. So yes death could be lurking at every corner but you had found a little home.

Interactions with the lady of the castle were limited. It suited you well though sometimes you found your thoughts lingering to the beautiful tall woman. She looked like a goddess, of death but a goddess nonetheless. When in her presence you cursed at your traitorous heart for beating so wildly it could make you dizzy.

There had been such an instance when the lady had allowed you to come in and clean as she worked in her study. With mild irritation she had asked you if your fear of her was so great your heart wouldn’t calm. You will never forget the way her annoyance washed off her face and a smug smirk took its place when your answer had been you did not fear her. You could still feel the heat on your cheeks with the way she had looked at you. Hours later the head maid had asked if you had a fever to wish your only response was a shrug before scurrying away.

Then there were Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. Your interactions with the rambunctious bunch were almost nonexistent. The lady’s daughters liked to play. That was the first thing you had been told to watch for. When they grew bored they would play games with the maids and sometimes said maids would not survive such games. So the head maid had told you to watch your back and stay away. You had done fairly well with the rule to stay away but soon that changed.

Daniela, the youngest of the three, had decided you were just too interesting. She would search for you and watch you do your chores. She would talk to you for hours and after a while you began to talk back. Your conversations ranged from gossip she had heard to books you’d never read to the latest drama between her mother and her uncle or what she had recently fought about with her sisters. With time you grew close and even though the other maids always warned you against it you knew you could trust the girl.

On a day like every other you headed for the library to find Daniela. But instead of the redhead you found Cassandra and Bela. The two oldest were bickering amongst themselves until they took notice of you. Their eyes sparked a dangerous gold and you knew what you had been warned against would come to pass.

“How about a game?” Bela said before cackling along with Cassandra.

In a blink you were off and buzzing filled your ears. You ran as fast as you could up and down, down and up. There was nowhere you could go that the sound of buzzing didn’t follow. Then despite your time in the castle you got lost and ended up opening a door you shouldn’t have.

Stairs led down to a dark and eerie space. The scent of blood flooded your nose and you recoiled from it. The buzzing sound died out and despite being afraid for the place you had ended up in you felt relieved. That is until a large hand wrapped around your neck, lifting you from the floor.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was a low growl in your face and you tried fruitlessly to shrink into yourself.

Lady Dimitrescu in all of her gloriousness stood in the dim light of candles with blood running down her face and neck. Her golden irises had turned a dangerous shade of red and something shifted behind her.

“Speak!”

Pushing past the lump of fear in your throat you tried to explain yourself. “I-I was j-just… I’m s-sorry. They were… and then—”

“Speak clearly!”

“Y-your daughters.”

“What?!” She seethed, making your heart race.

“A-a g-game, my l-lady.” You managed to form your sentence.

“Get out.” She tossed you and you landed hard on the floor, your foot bending way too much in the wrong direction. “Leave!”

You stood as quickly barely registering the pain on your ankle or around your neck. Running up the stairs you were met by fidgeting Daniela. The moment you made it to the hall she scanned you head to toe pouting when she saw the beginnings of a bruise on your neck and the scrapes on your hands.

“Come on. I’ll get you to your room.” Daniela said quietly.

When you winced after putting your weight on your ankle the redhead took it upon herself to carry you the rest of the way. She moved silently through the halls ignoring the maids the walked by and even her sisters when they came to check on you.

“Mother hasn’t been having the best week. She doesn’t like anyone seeing her when she’s feeding like that.” Daniela said as she placed you on the bed. “I’m sorry. I can talk to her. Maybe she’ll let you stay.”

“D-did she mean I-I had to leave th-the castle?” You shook as tears filled your eyes. “I-I have n-nowhere to go. This is my home.” You let out between sobs.

“I’ll talk to her. I promise. Just stay here. Everything will be fine.” Daniela said quickly patting you on the head as if trying to soothe you.

After that you were left alone she had burst into her swarm and left you closing the door behind her. You sobbed for what felt like hours until there was a knock on your door. You flinched and sat up as the door opened. The head maid stepped in with a bag and began to pick up what little belonged to you.

“I’m sorry. I think it would be safer if you leave now. The lady hasn’t said anything yet but if she finds you here after telling you to leave you’ll die.”

“B-but I c-can’t—”

“You have to. Why did you go to the cellars? You broke the rules.” Her stern voice cut through your words, making you whimper. “I’m sorry, dear. Can you stand?”

Giving her a grim nod you stood. A bit of pain made you wince but you could still stand. You followed after the head maid as quickly as you were able ignoring the solemn gazes from the rest of the staff as you limped by.

When you reached the main entrance the head maid turned to you and embraced you before handing you your small bag. You reigned in your sobs and pulled away looking to the door. She opened it and you walked past.

“You be safe. Hurry to the village before you lose light.”

With that the door closed behind you and there you were again in front of the castle doors on a cold winter evening.

Fresh tears slid down your cheeks as you were faced yet again with the fact that you were unwanted and you had no home. Briefly you wondered if you should just walk right back in and face the punishment. But the look on the head maids face and Daniela’s would be too painful to witness.

Letting out a bitter chuckle you pushed away from the castle you had begun to call home and headed for the village. You were sure of the welcome you would receive once you arrived. A beating for leaving and a beating for returning. But what else could you do when you had nothing.

You made it past the bridge when the last dregs of sunlight were beginning to disappear. Knowing what would become of you if you stayed out after dark you tried to hurry down the muddy road. However, no matter how hard you tried you weren’t making much progress, your limp becoming more prominent.

Suddenly the noises of the forest faded away, which unnerved you. There was no rustle of leaves in the wind nor the sounds of birds and other animals around. Everything was quiet and still. As if the entire woods surrounding you had decided to hold its collective breath. Your own breathing and the beating of your head in your ears sounded way too loud. It felt as if the trees surrounding you were pushing closer upon you as the last bit of sunshine completely ebbed away leaving only dim light behind.

A twig snapping to your right had you sprinting away. Your ankle sent painful jolts up your leg while you tried to get away from whatever unknown creature lurked in the trees. You ran desperately, your bag forgotten somewhere up the road.

The lights of the village shined in the distance and you felt a bit relieved. Not watching where you stood you stepped into a hole and lost your balance. You tumbled down with a yelp landing on your hands and knees. The unbearable silence still surrounded you until a chorus of snarls filled the air.

Scrambling to your feet you turned to find three lycans snapping at you. They stood before you with drooling snouts huffing and puffing. Your body shook as you stood there frozen. One of them advanced and you knew any attempt to run would be futile. Still as it slashed at you, your instincts had you moving to one side. Another lycan made to slash at you and you threw yourself out of the way landing painfully on your wrist.

You attempted to stand but your leg gave out and you went pommeling down to the mud once more. Turning again to face them you let out a whimper and closed your eyes, knowing nothing you did would help.

A growl unlike the ones you had been hearing filled the air. You kept your eyes closed but could hear a commotion before you. Growls and snarls echoed around you for a few minutes until the silence reigned once more.

The squelching sound of heavy steps on the mud had you letting out another whimper. You refused to open your eyes however until a voice you had thought you would never hear reached your ears.

“You stupid little thing. Who gave you permission to leave my castle?”

Your eyes snapped open and you beheld Lady Dimitrescu in her usual white dress now splattered with mud and her brimmed hat sitting perfectly atop her head. The red irises you had seen before swirled with orange and golden hues. Her claws were still out, blood dripping from them, while she stood among the now dead lycans.

“When I ask a question I expect an answer, dear.”

Her voice no longer held the edge it had in the cellar and you couldn’t help the sob that tore from you. The lady hummed and flicked her claws before retracting them and closing in on you. You tensed slightly as she reached for you and she hesitated for a second before picking you up bridal style.

“Hush my little thing. Everything is alright. You are safe.”

You turned to her chest trying to stop your cries as she carried you up the road and back to the castle. She walked slowly, not that she had to hurry when her steps covered three times what yours would. It was another few minutes before you had calmed enough to speak.

“W-why did y-you come? Why did you s-save me?”

“Why would I not save you?” She tilted her head and looked at you. “Why would I not come for you?”

“I-I broke the rules. I s-saw you and-and you don’t l-like that, m-my lady.” Your lips quivered as you watched for her reaction but she focused ahead.

“Tell me, dear. Do you find me repulsive now? Am I a monster in your eyes?”

“N-no. Of course not!” You exclaimed. “You need to eat. You’re not a monster.”

“Oh but I am my dear. I murder and torture and I enjoy every second of it.”

“I don’t care. If you are a monster then so am I. Sometimes I play with my food too.” You replied indignantly.

A velvety chuckle rumbled from the lady as she looked down at you and you felt your heart begin to race as it often did in her presence. She glanced down at your chest before looking back into your eyes.

“And still you ask why I would save you. Do you really not see why?”

Biting your lip you looked down. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks at the warmth you were receiving from her.

“My castle is your home is it not?”

You looked back at her, a gasp escaping you. She couldn’t mean that, could she?

“My home?”

“My, you truly are oblivious. Yes, your home.” She smiled. “I do apologize for making you think it wasn’t. And for making you feel as if you didn’t belong. My temper is quite hard to handle at times and as such I say things I may not mean. However when I told you to leave I had only meant the cellars not the castle, you foolish little thing.”

Trying in vain to keep the tears from running you tried to stammer out an explanation while turning away from her. “I-I just… I—”

“My dear, would you look at me.” The lady waited until you looked up before speaking once more. “This,” she nodded towards the castle, “this is your home. You belong here, with me.”

“So I can stay?”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. “For as long as you desire, draga mea.”

“And if I say forever?” Butterflies buzzed in your stomach as you tucked yourself under her chin, nuzzling her neck.

“Then forever it is.”

The prompt was “Why wouldn’t I save you?” Think I fulfilled that hehe. I need to stop writing things I’m not supposed to. I have three updates to work on plus I need to finish that last Pride fic. I’m a mess. Hopefully you enjoyed my mess though. Also this is the first sorta reader fic I’ve ever done so yay me lol.

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #little ficlet #alcina dimitrescu #re8 alcina #fluffy stuffs #maybe…

[holybatgirlz]

@bridgertonbabe had me cackling over her bridgerton spouse support groupchat that I couldn't stop thinking about what the bridgerton sibling chat looked like in the aftermath of game night.

(All credit to Bridgertonbabe for this chaotic mess)

----

🐝 The Children Group Chat 🐝

Violet: Alright. 

Violet: Who started it?

Anthony: Started what?

Hyacinth: What exactly is it u r referencing mother?

Violet: Oh you all know exactly what it is I am talking about. 

Violet: Who started the fight this time? 

Benedict: I did. It started. 

Violet: No. 

Violet: I know you probably fueled it once it began, but you didn’t start it. So once again I must ask.  

Violet: Who started the fight?

Eloise: Who told you we fought?

Violet: Sophie did. After I learned from Agatha that an ambulance was called for your husband.  

Eloise: He's fine Mum. He had a panic attack because Anthony wouldn’t get off his ass about the rules. 

Anthony: The rules clearly say when you land on someone's properties you have to pay them. Not my fault he couldn’t.

Eloise: He couldn’t pay u because u r a deranged asshole who puts interest on his properties like some money hungry slumlord.  

Eloise: Who puts interest rates in Monopoly? 

Francesca: It was my fault Mum. I started it.

Violet: NO

Violet: You and Benedict both hate confrontations. I know neither one of you started it. 

Violet: Who 

Violet: Started 

Violet: The fight

Violet: At Daphne’s game night?

Daphne: I would like to point out that Hyacinth is being abnormally quiet right now.

Hyacinth: Excuse me?!

Eloise: You were exceptionally vitriol with the rest of us that night. More so than usual.

Hyacinth: Mother. I feel like this would be a good time to inform you that Eloise broke a £5000 vase that night.  

Eloise: OMFG

Eloise: Et tu Brutus?

Hyacinth:

Hyacinth: throw me under the bus again I dare u

Colin: You did throw it across a room. 

Colin: At my head I should add. 

Eloise: I purposefully aimed away from your head dummy. That’s why it hit the wall. 

Colin: 

Colin: Did you?

Eloise: WELL HYACINTH BROUGHT A SWITCHBLADE. 

Hyacinth: Liar!!!!

Hyacinth: it’s a penknife. Not a switchblade. Get it right. 

Gregory: Yh Anthony still has her switchblade from when we all played Cluedo 

Colin: talk about Miss Hyacinth in the parlor with the knife. U nearly killed Benedict. And Gregory. And Simon!

Benedict: I still have the scar

Anthony: Not to mention the fire damage.

Gregory: Well the fire was Daphne’s fault.

Violet: Please do not remind me about the Cluedo incident. It gives me a migraine every time I think about the damage you all did to my house that night. 

Francesca: Isn’t even the most concerning part. Hyacinth. How did you get another knife? 

Hyacinth: It’s for protection

Francesca: That did not even remotely answer the question I asked you

Hyacinth: Gareth got it for me

Anthony: Gareth isn’t stupid enough to give you a weapon.

Hyacinth: He is after getting mugged 

Violet: 🫢 Gareth was mugged?

Hyacinth: He’s fine. He was a little shaken up but they didn’t get anything off of him. They just roughed him up a little and scared him.

Colin: Why do I have a sneaking suspicion you had some involvement in this mugging?

Hyacinth: Why would I mug my husband???

Benedict: Ulterior motives. As unreasonable as a theory that may sound. This is also you we are talking about. 

Colin: How do we know you didn’t mug him so that he would get your hands on another knife? 

Hyacinth: I plead the fifth

Anthony: Hyacinth!

Hyacinth: Again

Hyacinth: A £5000 vase was destroyed that night.

Hyacinth: And not by me.

Eloise: if anyone is at fault it’s Daphne. It was her idea. 

Daphne: Why am I at fault for trying to have a nice family get together?

Francesca: Because u should have known this is exactly what would have happened

Violet: Must I remind you all that you nearly gave Phillip a heart attack. The poor man had to spend the night there for observation. 

Benedict: And you all made Sophie cry

Eloise: Jesus Christ. She’s pregnant Benedict. Ofc she’s going to cry. She literally cried last week telling me about the tiny baby shoes she crocheted. 

Daphne: In her defense. They were adorable.  

Benedict: 😤😤😤 They are the cutest little baby shoes. I’m so excited to see my daughter wearing them. 

Benedict: But that’s not the point. You yelled at her Eloise.

Eloise: Because she wasn’t doing anything except sitting on the couch while Phillip was hyperventilating.

Benedict: Maybe because she’s SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT AND CAN’T MOVE!

Eloise: omg Benedict get over it 

Benedict: my wife was in tears over what happened and then you and Kate both felt the need to gang up on her because she wouldn’t hand her remaining cash to you.

Eloise: She was leaving.

Benedict: BECAUSE she was the one who went with Phillip to A&E because YOU were too busy arguing with Daphne about the income tax rule.

Eloise: It was unreasonable and unnecessary for me to have to pay it because I had more money than the rest of you

Daphne: Says known socialist Eloise Bridgerton 

Eloise removed Daphne from the chat

Anthony added Daphne to the chat

Daphne: Bitch

Violet: Daphne do not call your sister a bitch

Eloise: Bitch Bitch

Violet: ELOISE!

Gregory: I think it's safe to say that Anthony’s unreasonable rules are what led to the conflict starting. We all know he’s the most competitive.

Colin: Agreed

Eloise: Agreed

Daphne: Yeah that’s true

Hyacinth: Agreed

Anthony: Because Gregory isn’t the reason we have to have them in the first place. You cheat. All the time.

Gregory: Well I learned it from you didn’t I?

Anthony: You hid all the tokens so that Lucy could pick one first.

Anthony: Then you pressured her into teaming up with you after she claimed all the good spots. Then you started extorting and threatening the rest of us. Not to mention I am genuinely concerned you do not know how interest rates work given the numbers you were giving us were completely off. And I will not even discuss your blatant disrespect for the get out jail free card. 

Anthony: What do you have to say for yourself?

Gregory: That my wife didn’t key a car

Colin: oh snap

Daphne: WHAT?!?!?

Daphne: SHE DID WHAT?!!

Colin: 🤣🤣🤣 it was Kate who did it!?

Gregory: Yh apparently Amelia caught her in 4K HD keying Simon’s car while Phillip was being loaded into the ambulance. 

Daphne: KATE WAS THE ONE WHO KEYED SIMON’S CAR?!?

Gregory sent a video.

Violet: Good lord.

Violet: Why are you all like this?

Anthony: I would like to make it clear I will neither condemn nor condone my wife’s actions. She is her own woman and will do what she wishes without my input or opinion.  

Anthony: However it wasn’t as though it was without reason. 

Francesca: Omfg Anthony

Hyacinth: Gregory how the hell do you know this??

Colin: How did you get the video?

Gregory: because MY WIFE loves me and sent me the video when she told me about it

Violet: how the hell did all eight of you inherit your father’s competitive streak?? 

Violet: EIGHT. We had eight children and you all got it. It’s not normal. 

Francesca: Mother. If I may. 

Francesca: We’ve all seen how you get watching baking shows. 

Violet: That is not the same and you know it!

Francesca: Mother. Again. 

Francesca: I say this with nothing but love and respect.

Francesca: Anthony had to restrict the Food Channel on the cable box for three years after you broke the TV. You literally are not allowed to be left alone when The Great British Bake Off is on.

Francesca: I’m quite certain the reason we are all like this is because dad’s competitiveness got mixed in with your insane stubbornness.

Violet removed Francesca from the chat.

Hyacinth: Omg Mum did you banish Francesca to the shadow realm!?!

Gregory: I had no idea she even knew how to do that

Violet removed Gregory from the chat.

Hyacinth: GREGORY NOOoooo

#not giving it a title cause it’s essential unfinished #bridgerton #little ficlet #my fics.

[rriavian]

@aisalynn reblogged a post that led to an idea, which led to this, which is now almost 3200 words and almost done. The full fic fits other prompts too but I won't spoil.

Please take this as my 'sorry I'm keeping you waiting for Courting the King I hope this helps tide you over' fic. My brain is fried this evening so no cat Dream, but this didn't need any additions, just an edit. Though tbh I'll probably tweak it a little more. Hope you enjoy!

So - 1/5 times circumstance rendered Dream or the Corinthian nearly unconscious.

-

Dream punishes him.

And by the time it’s over the Corinthian can’t even remember what he’d done. 

It must have been bad—the king’s really done a number on him, really put some effort in—has his body singing in all the right ways. Nightmare or not he still has one, not defined by flesh, yet a body still for all a human would call it merely concept. The Corinthian realises he’s on his side, cheek against a hard, stone floor, spends a moment memorising the texture as it grates against his skin. It’s nice, should be remembered, should be enjoyed, and once it is the Corinthian rolls lazily onto his back. The limbs don’t quite work, as far as motion goes it’s rather inelegant actually, but who cares about that.

The Corinthian feels raw.

Dream has knelt down next to him, hand reaching for his shoulder, and when fingers touch him the Corinthian flinches with a moan, looks up with a smirk. Fuck but he’s pretty. The Corinthian is dazzled by blinding white light, drawls—

“Heya darlin’”

It sounds more like a slur.

Dream stands, smiles. “Such spirit.”

The sentiment is familiar. Or maybe it’s the tone. The Corinthian squints a little, flesh shivering over teeth, tries to keep Dream’s face in focus so he can puzzle it out. Eventually he gives up—needs time to heal, to calm—his nerves the grit of sand, so very inhuman and yet dazed like one. How annoying. It must have taken some time for Dream to satisfy his ire, if it even is satisfied at all, because though the Corinthian thinks he remembers saying sorry it’s hazy, unclear.

In any case he’s not saying it again.  

Instead he sighs, smirks and knows it looks more than a little pleased, a satisfaction all his own. He’ll probably feel embarrassed about this later; so boneless after punishment, hating them because of it, but the Corinthian is currently far too blissed out to care. He doesn’t think he’s supposed to feel like this though, what with the way Dream’s looking at him, doesn’t think he was made to.

But if the Corinthian wasn’t made to enjoy it then that means this is treason.

So maybe it’s ok.

“Can’t break a nightmare with what I do as a day job beautiful.” The Corinthian’s still slurring, loose lipped, is definitely earning himself further punishment with how he’s leering. He adds a wink just to make sure, to tip the scales, to seal the deal. “Damn good foreplay though. Really needed that.”

“I suppose pleasure is as good a way as any to keep you in line.” Dream says dryly. 

There’s intrigue in his eyes.

The Corinthian snorts, yawns, is surprised enough by it to pause. He blinks, grins and then says. “Fuck I’d love to shove my cock down your throat.”

It’s probably not what Dream usually hears after a punishment.

The Corinthian has already earned himself another.

May as well keep going.

“Yup.” He adds, speaks as if Dream has agreed, closes his eyes a moment to shiver with the gall of that, can’t help it, teeth yearning as he opens them. “Think you’d look hot on your knees. On your back too. Or sitting on my lap while I bounce you on my cock.”

Dream laughs; softly, disbelief and amusement, seems to be delighted rather than offended by his nerve. “Really.”

“Mhm.” The Corinthian tries to sit up, sways, braces himself against Dream’s knee so he doesn’t crumple back to the floor. It’s good knee, solid—more so than he is right now, which isn’t really hard—he curls towards it, sighs and then sags, lets it support his weight. “You’d look so fucking pretty.”

He twists his torso a little more, shuffles closer, and ok now his head is resting closer to Dream’s thigh than to his knee but oh well.

It’s a good thigh too.

Beneath Dream’s soft silk robe and even softer skin—under the rope of tendons, of muscle, underneath all of that—the Corinthian knows that he’ll find bone. He feels it under his hand, wants to rip it out, wants to break it, will tenderly carve nerves and tendons away until he finds it white amongst the blood. The Corinthian sighs, smirks, nuzzles happily at Dream’s thigh as he imagines it, embraces blasphemy, thinks it bold and bright.

A hand drifts down to his hair.

It doesn’t do anything, no curl of fingers reaching back, just rests motionless on his head. And that’s probably a warning but if so then good. 

The Corinthian loves warnings.

Or, more specifically, he loves ignoring them.

“Promise you’ll like it.” He mumbles; cheek pressed against soft fabric, no sharp grit here to match that of the floor, something worth memorising all the same. “Eventually. After I’ve hurt you a little. Maybe a lot.”

Dream is dangerously gentle when he pulls the Corinthian’s head back.

He still can’t really even feel the grip on his hair and he knows that’s dangerous because it means this is a prelude. It’s build up. A stoop to what’s unnecessary; Dream doesn’t need to build suspense, not for this, doesn’t entertain while he punishes. That’s saved for special occasions, special affronts.

Not everyone gets it.

Dream’s expression is rather severe—always is really, such a pretty thing, even set in this permanent pout—features cut from stone, from glass. It’s set there like calibration. As always the ozone burn of his fading wrath is terrible to behold, the desolation following a fire far surpassing the ache felt while it’s burning, no adrenaline fuelled destruction found in a silent field of bones.

Oh, the Corinthian thinks in a daze, grinning giddily. 

He must be really mad. 

(Or really pleased)

#Corintheus #my writing #little ficlet

[ethien]

The prankster

I just had a little fun idea.

Fandom: Pokémon legends arceus - adaman x reader (which is female)

Words: 761

“What do you think?”

“Leaf”

“Yeah, you’re right. In this shape?”

“Leaf!”

“Oh yes, that could be a bit too much.”

“Leaf”

You nodded proudly at your work, Leafeon also agreed with a nod. “I guess…it’s finished. I must say: you had splendid ideas. And thank you showing me where the Eyeliner was”

“Leaf!”

You took a little overview at the masterpiece, then you and Leafeon left the hut and your…masterpiece.

“What do you think? When will he find out?”

“Leaf”

“You could be right. Let’s wait until he wakes up and walk around.”

After an hour, Adaman finally showed up – it was early afternoon and there were enough people around the settlement to enjoy the fun.

As his girlfriend, you often visit the settlement, spending time with precious boyfriend, the wardens, the kids, the Pokémon. So, you learnt about some habits – Adaman liked taking naps. After you found out how he looked refreshed even at afternoon, you formed a plan in your mind. You convinced Leafeon to help you which agreed fast to your plan.

It showed you where the Eyeliner from Adaman was – you could not deny you were a bit envious of his magnificent make-up skills. So, why not use his fellow partner and his habit for naps to make a little fun of him? Sometimes, Adaman was such a teasing bitch to you – he deserved some pay-back time.

You could see how he walked around, talk to people – and everyone had a bright smile on their face. Only you and Leafeon were aware of the plan – However, it was cool that the whole settlement played along.

Adaman soon spotted you and went in your direction. The masterpiece looked even better when he was awake.

Don’t laugh, don’t dare laughing out loud you thought for yourself. Still, it was hard with how ridiculous you painted his face. Around his right eye, you draw a monocle, you gave him the weirdest moustache, some hearts and stars, you decided drawing a little dick at his chin and on his forehead was the signature of Leafeon and yours. You decided to gift him the brightest smile.

“Oh hello. Didn’t know you were visiting today” he said when approaching you. He gave you a little peak on the lips when he realized your bright smile.

“Is something in the air today? Everyone in the settlement looked so happy today.”

“I don’t know. It’s just a normal day” you said while still hiding the urge to laugh out loud. He was absolute clueless what made it even harder not to laugh.

“Well, I don’t mind what the reason is. It feels pretty great for having a day where nothing happens and everyone enjoy the living”

You asked yourself when he would find out – with sitting beside you, it would be an eternity. To your luck, you just spotted Melli from afar. You two don’t hate each other or something like that, you were fine with each other with some arguments from time to time – but now, you were really glad to see him.

Adaman just sighed when he spotted the approaching warden – it seemed there was something on the warden’s mind who needed to share it with his leader. “Oh man, just when I thought it would be a day without a headache” he murmurs to himself.

“ADAMAN” Melli yelled and you had to turn around. You were so close to laugh out loud.

“What’s this time?” Adaman just asked while walking up to the warden.

“What’s with that attitude, Adaman?” he said and approached his leader. He made some weird faces which irritated Adaman a bit.

“Oh my god, you look so dump. Have you not watched in a mirror today?”

This was the moment you really could not hold back any longer and your laughter burst out of you.

Adaman, still confused about the comment of Melli and now your laugh, ran to the nearest surface he could find to see what the warden meant.

“Mighty Dialga, what the fuck?!” you only heard him yelling out loud – then he seemed to rub off his face from your…masterpiece.

“I think, this might be the perfect time for an escape”

“Leaf”

With this, you two started running away – which did not go unnoticed by Adaman.

“STOP, YOU TWO!”

And with this, the diamond-clan leader started chasing after his girlfriend and Pokémon. Will he be able to catch the two? Nobody knows.

He just knows that from now one – if he ever wants to do a nap, he made sure you were not around.

#ethien #mywriting #writing #adamanxreader #readerxadaman #adaman #fem!reader #little reader insert #fun #fluff #it even contains little melli #pla #pokemon legends adaman #pokemon legends arceus #legend arceus #little ficlet

[once-upon-a-doctor-who]

Because I'm on my bullshit and it's 4am, have some feels!

------

Urbosa could hardly believe just how strong her little bird had gotten through all the trials and adversity she'd faced.

Her need to become stronger, her desire to help and protect everyone, all while hiding her own sorrow and heartbreak.

Urbosa tried so hard to help her see past her flaws, no matter how minor they seemed, and would always offer a reassuring word and a shoulder to cry on. They sat upon Vah Naboris, Zelda curled up at her side, Link standing a few feet away, his eyes scanning the horizon looking for any threat that would sour this moment of peace.

Irbosa gently brushed her fingers through Zelda's blonde locks, the silken strands sifting through her fingers like the golden sands of the desert, falling away until they came to rest against her shoulders, gleaming in stark contrast to the blue of her traveling clothes.

She looked so much like her mother. So much like the woman Urbosa had loved like a sister, had held close as a friend. She would never tell Zelda that she was the last person to have held her mother's hand before she had passed from sickness in the quiet hours before dawn.

Instead, she was content to fill the role of mother and protector, guiding Zelda as much as she could, taking care of her when her father couldn't. She was content with that. Her own daughter was training to take her place when the time came, and with the threat of the Calamity growing ever closer, her training had intensified, and Urbosa's heart swelled with both pride and worry.

Should she fall, she would leave two daughters behind. A thought that her heart couldn't take. She gently shook her head to will the thought away, and focused her attention back on the young woman beside her, her fingers gently returning to golden locks as Zelda slept soundly against her side.

She would need to return to the Castle soon, to resume her training to awaken her inner power, but Urbosa wished to be selfish just this once and keep the exhausted teenager close to her for just a few minutes longer.

#botw urbosa #botw zelda #botw link #best mom urbosa #little ficlet #no dialogue ficlet #aoc urbosa #aoc link #aoc zelda #zelda mom mention #legend of zelda

[woahjo]

APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist 

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.

Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 

Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 

He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 

Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 

He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 

He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 

"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 

He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 

"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 

You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 

Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 

The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 

"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 

Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 

He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 

"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 

Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 

"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 

Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 

"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 

"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 

"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 

You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

"I'm not fucking around," he says. 

"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 

You trail off a little. 

"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 

"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 

"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.

Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 

"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 

Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 

He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 

"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 

You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 

Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 

Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 

Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 

He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 

The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 

His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 

Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.

His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 

He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 

The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 

You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 

Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 

You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 

The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 

There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 

“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 

Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.

“Say that again.” 

“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 

You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 

He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 

Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 

He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 

You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 

His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 

Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 

“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 

You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 

“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 

The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 

Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 

Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 

“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 

He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 

“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 

Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 

“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 

He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 

“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 

You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 

Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 

His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 

You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 

This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 

The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 

Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 

His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 

Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 

You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 

You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 

He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 

“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 

Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 

“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 

You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 

“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.

“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 

“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.

Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 

“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 

You shrug and give him a coy smile. 

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.dubcon #tw.biting #tw.free use #tw.overstimulation #tw.size kink #tw.scent kink #idk what this is #it’s a little ficlet I suppose #AND SO DIFFERENT FROM WHAT I USUALLY WRITE I FEEL LIKE #ANY IM NERVOUS ENJOY #cal.writing

[hairmetal666]

Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #famous eddie munson #regular guy steve harrington #feelings confession #oblivious steve harrington #the grand tradition of steve harrington not realizing he's bi #eddie falls first steve falls harder #eddie's so cool about it #grammy award winning eddie munson #vaguely inspired by lupita and joseph at the oscars #driver roll up the partition please #a little bit spicy

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.

He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.

"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.

Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.

"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.

"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.

"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,

"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.

"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.

"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.

"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.

"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.

His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.

"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.

"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.

But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.

"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.

"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.

Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.

He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.

Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.

It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.

"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.

He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.

"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.

"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.

"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.

"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.

Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.

Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.

"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.

"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.

"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.

"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.

"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.

"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.

"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.

"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.

Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.

Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.

Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.

Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.

He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.

"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.

"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.

Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.

"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.

"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.

"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.

"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.

"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.

"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.

He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.

It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.

"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.

"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.

"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.

"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.

He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.

Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.

"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.

"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.

"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.

"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.

"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.

"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.

Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.

Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.

Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.

Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

#steddie #my writing #mine #my fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #just a random little idea i had

[nerdpoe]

Danny, running from the GIW in Metropolis, gets a knock to the head.

Which is super unfortunate, because he is now mildly concussed and apparently not speaking English.

He was in Metropolis on a field trip, accidentally slipped up, and the GIW had apparently not been that far behind. He'd been hit with something that drastically contained his powers (not all of them, not flight and strength), and the chase had begun.

So after dodging them again, he gave up and just flew into the air-and ran straight into Superman.

And even knowing his fuzzy brain was stuck on some language other than English, he can't help but spit out

"Watch it, man; I don't wanna end up on a dissection slab because you slowed me down!"

Clark, for his part, goes through a series of emotions.

First is confusion; why is this kid being chased by strange men in white suits? Why can he fly?

Second is disbelief; this kid just spoke in perfect Kryptonian, conjugating verbs like a true native, while snapping at Clark to move.

Third is actual rage; this teenage Kryptonian, clearly not a clone from his accent alone, an actual honest to Rao Kryptonian, was being chased by madmen intent on dissecting him.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #story prompt #phanfic #ficlet #danny's ghost brain defaulted to the strongest presence in control of Metropolis' native language #so it went Kryptonian #Clark is gonna get a little bit angry #just a bit

[actual-changeling]

There is a man with fire-red hair running a bookshop in Soho.

He hasn't always been the original owner, as almost all residents on Whickber Street know, but it is a fact you never bring up with him. Hiding behind a pair of sunglasses and layers of rough sarcasm, he is a shadow moving silently between shelves and plants, the Bentley parked outside seemingly more for decoration than actual use.

Previously, there had been a white-haired man with gentle eyes and a favour up his sleeves living among his books, and while he barely sold any of them, he was a pillar of the community just like the building itself. When he disappeared, an unspoken vow to never discuss the subject matter in the vicinity of the shop was made.

There is a woman with fire-red hair sitting in St. James's Park.

She feeds frozen peas to the ducks and puts the fear of God into everyone who dares to offer them bread or attempts to scare them away. The bench is hers, always empty, awaiting her arrival; sometimes she brings a bottle of wine, other times she cradles a Polaroid in the palm of her hand, and even the dark shades cannot stop the occasional tear from dripping down her cheek.

Rumours of her companion and his absence spread quickly, yet no one dares to ask, and the spies scattered around the park form a mutual understanding to avoid her.

There is a person with fire-red hair wandering the streets of London, wearing sunglasses and no coat, no matter the weather or time.

Their head is tipped back, their eyes glued to the sky, and yet they navigate through the masses parting around them with an unnatural ease. No one stops them, no one dares to ask why, and even if they did, they wouldn't offer an answer, not when they are asking themself the very same question.

When it begins to rain, they stop moving, stretching out their hands in a weak imitation of a prayer and allowing the water to seep into their clothes until they're as dark as the wet concrete beneath them.

There is a man with blinding white hair stepping out of an elevator that does not exist, and the end of the world comes with him. If someone were to listen in, they would realise that the man with fire-red hair meets him in the middle of the street, the air thick with lightning that will never find a home.

As they talk, nightingales all over London begin to sing.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #good omens ficlet #a little warm up improvisation

[holybatgirlz]

Had to do another response to bridgertonbabe’s spouses groupchat

(All credit goes to @bridgertonbabe)

—

🐝 The Children Group Chat 🐝

Eloise sent a picture.

Eloise: I think we should submit this to Merriam-Webster to put in the dictionary next to the word ‘heavenly’ because holy shit what happened last night was the closest I have ever had to a religious experience.

Eloise: And yes, I already created and bought matching sweatshirts with this image on it for everyone. They say ‘I survived the Pictionary Incident of ‘16’ on them.

Hyacinth: I swear to god if you two idiots scared Sophie off I’m going to finish what she started.

Anthony: Do I have to remind everyone that both Colin and myself were assaulted last night?? Or did you not see the photo Eloise just sent??

Violet: Do I need to remind you both that you purposefully dropped a keg on your brother’s hand?!?

Colin: Mini. It was a mini keg.

Colin: We’re not stupid enough to drop an actual keg on Benedict.

Violet: Well, you could have fooled me.

Violet: The doctor told me your poor brother broke two fingers and was a millimeter away from needing to have surgery on his hand. And in his dominant hand no less.

Violet: Do you have any idea how this is going to impact your brother? His painting? His upcoming gallery showing? He still has three paintings he needs to finish before next month and I have no idea how he’s going to complete them now that you two have gone and done this to him.

Colin: Yes, yes mother. We know. Benedict’s your precious little baby. Heaven forbid he do anything wrong. Like yelling at his girlfriend because she nearly made him lose Pictionary.

Colin: A girlfriend who, I would like the record to reflect, slapped me.

Anthony: Sophie also gave me a black eye. Kate has spent all of this morning laughing at me every time I walk into a room and she sees it so I think we’re even.

Violet sent a picture.

Violet sent a picture.

Violet: What did you not understand about almost needing surgery? You practically shattered his hand!! You nearly destroyed your brother’s art career!

Hyacinth: If Sophie stops talking to me because of the shit you two bozos pulled omg I’m going to end you both.

Colin: I’m surprised the coke can you nearly hit her with didn’t already do that.

Daphne: Hey. We may have a situation happening.

Francesca: What’s wrong?

Violet: Is everything alright?

Daphne: Simon’s panic pacing in our living room right now and I heard him say something about Sophie. I’m trying to figure out what happened. Give me a second.

Daphne: Hold on.

Daphne: SOPHIE’S PLANNING TO BREAK UP WITH BEN!!

Francesca: What??

Eloise: Say sike Daphne. Say sike right now.

Gregory: Seriously??

Colin: Oh shit. For real?

Francesca: How do you know?

Daphne: Simon and Kate are texting with her right now. I only figured it out because Simon’s stutter comes back when he’s stressed and mutters to himself to stay calm.

Daphne: But Sophie’s said she’s going to break up with Ben when he wakes up because she thinks we all hate her!!

Violet: I need to get back to the hospital right now.

Hyacinth: YOU IDIOTS!!!

Hyacinth: I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BOTH!!

Colin: Gregory. Since I know u r with her. Scale of 1-10 how pissed is Hy right now?

Gregory: Hy right now:

Gregory sent a photo

Gregory sent a photo

Colin: Ah. 100 then.

Gregory: Yeah

Colin: Well it was nice knowing everyone

Anthony: Why on earth would she think we hate her?? You were all cheering her on when she was assaulting us.

Eloise: By far the hottest thing I've ever seen. I think watching her throw that punch rewired my brain chemistry. Watered my crops. Cleared my skin. Ended my depression. And helped me finish my graduate applications. I’ve never felt so alive.

Eloise: Fuck Wollstonecraft. Fuck Steinem. Fuck Atwood. Their works do not even compare to the straight prose Sophie was shooting last night while she was yelling at you two.

Eloise: And if we lose her now because you two idiots made her think we despise her I am going to HELP HYACINTH BURY YOUR BODIES!!!

Francesca: Mum, how close are you?

Violet: 30 minutes out. John is driving as fast as he legally can to get me back there.

Violet: I knew I shouldn’t have left her there alone. I knew something was off. She was far too quiet to have been okay with all of this.

Daphne: Do you need us to come meet you there?

Violet: No. The last thing we need to do is overwhelm her.

Violet: This is all my fault. I should never have picked Pictionary. I shouldn’t have even allowed a Game Night to begin with!

Violet: I forgot that I have wolves for children. That you all were swapped with changelings as babies.

Hyacinth: Why didn’t anyone stay with Sophie???

Eloise: Because she’s a grown woman who knows how to handle herself. She seemed fine last night.

Francesca: She seemed pretty overwhelmed to me. I found her crying in the bathroom after Benedict yelled at her.

Violet: She was crying?!!!

Francesca: I think she was just taken by surprise and she told me Danbury had called her earlier about the lawsuit with her stepmother so I thought she was probably already stressed before she arrived at the house last night. I told her Benedict didn’t mean any of it. And after the beat down she gave Colin and Anthony I thought she would be okay.

Hyacinth: Mum you need to get there!!

Violet: Sweetheart, I’m trying to get there as fast as I can.

Hyacinth: Omg Mum hurry up 😩😩😩 My sanity is on the line here.

Gregory: Anthony and Colin’s asses are literally on the line right now. Hyacinth might actually commit to killing them.

Hyacinth: I swear to God I’m going to actually lose it if Sophie leaves. We finally were about to have a cool in-law in the family and now you IDIOTS RUINED IT!!!

Gregory: We were almost able to say we had a felon in the family 😖😖😖

Daphne: Gregory. Sophie nearly going to jail is not something to strive for.

Francesca: She also isn’t a felon. She would have had to have been convicted for that to be true.

Hyacinth: Firstly, she was falsely accused and this has been a known fact for weeks now. Keep up. Secondly, and according to the police report, Sophie almost outran the cops and got away. Like they chased her seven blocks before they caught her. Full sprint the entire time. And then she elbowed one of them while they were arresting her so they nearly hit her with an assaulting police officer charge because of it.

Hyacinth: Thirdly, Ben said Sophie completely decked her stepmother once it was revealed that Armabitch lied about her stealing from her (which honestly should have been a heads up for tweedle dumb and tweedle dumbest not to FUCK with her)

Hyacinth: And FOURTHLY, she literally got broken out of jail by Mum and Ben because yours truly was smart enough to make sure her location sharing was on.

Hyacinth: She’s a literal icon of icons 😍😍😍

Daphne: Hyacinth, you never answered this the last time we asked. But did you hack Sophie’s phone?

Hyacinth: No

Hyacinth: I just made sure she was sharing her location with me while I was putting my number in her phone. That’s all.

Violet: Alright I’m back at the hospital.

Hyacinth: Mum you need to find Sophie! You need to stop her!

Violet: Oh I plan to. Not going to allow all my hard work to go to waste. I’ll text you once I’ve spoken to her.

Eloise: Are you two idiots happy with yourselves now??

Eloise: Was this worth dropping a keg on Benedict??

Colin: Again

Colin: Mini keg.

Colin: And right now, since I am currently praying to every God in existence to make sure Sophie and Benedict don’t break up, the answer is no.

Anthony: If she was bold enough to hit me in the face, then she was a perfect fit for this family.

Anthony: Mum, if you don’t stop her, tell me. I’ll come out there and speak to her myself.

Hyacinth: Anything?

Daphne: Oh my god this wait is killing me.

Francesca: Mum any updates yet?

Benedict sent a picture

Benedict: I lived.

Daphne: Benedict! Where’s Sophie? Is she with you?

Hyacinth: DO NOT LET HER LEAVE US!!!

Benedict: She here ❤️

Benedict: she finance

Eloise: ????

Benedict: Soap finance

Daphne: Benedict what are you trying to say

Eloise: What the hell does this mean???

Benedict: Soap

Benedict: Finance

Benedict: SOAP MY FINANCE

Benedict: soap finance

Benedict: Duck

Francesca: Benedict are you still high??

Benedict: No. Typing 1 hand. Hard

Eloise: I think we should all take that as he’s still high.

Benedict: Soap Bucket my finance

Gregory: This is some fucking DaVinci code level shit.

Francesca: Are you talking about Sophie??

Benedict: Yes

Benedict: Finance

Benedict: She finance

Francesca: She’s fine?

Eloise: What about Sophie’s finances??

Violet: Fiancée. He means fiancée.

Violet: Sophie and Benedict are engaged!! Well, technically, engaged. Sophie told him he has to propose again once the drugs wear off but I got here just in time to see Benedict asking her to marry him after he woke up and hearing Sophie tell him yes. We’ve all been celebrating. It was quite lovely 🥰🥰

Benedict: Mum cryin rite now.

Eloise: No doubt ecstatic she no longer needs to worry about you dying alone.

Colin: Oh thank Christ.

Gregory:

Francesca: 🥳🥳 Congratulations Benedict

Daphne: Congratulations!!

Hyacinth: This is literally the best news I could receive 😭😭😭

Benedict: Thank you ☺️

Benedict: V happy rite now.

Eloise: V high 2

Benedict sent a photo

Benedict: High on life 😌😌😌 On love 😍☺️🥰

Eloise: Omg 🤢🤮

Eloise: Freak

Eloise: No one asked to see your kissing selfies.

Violet: Benedict. Sweetheart. Since I apparently have to text you this as well. Put the phone down and go back to sleep.

Benedict: NO

Benedict: Engaged!

Benedict: Every1 celebrate me b engaged

Anthony: Congratulations brother.

Benedict: Asshole. Hat u. U no celebrate.

Benedict: Hate other asshole 2. Were Colin?

Colin: Hey Benedict. How’s your hand?

Benedict: Duck u

Benedict: Fuck u

Benedict: Hate u both so much rite now.

Colin: Listen. Ben. I’m really sorry for almost crushing your hand.

Benedict: Hand no long matter. U hurt Soap. I kill u.

Colin: She slapped me!

Benedict: Deserved. U deserved. Drop keg on me n face Soap wrath.

Benedict: God she was so hot 4 that.

Eloise: So hot

Benedict: So hot. My gf is so hot.

Benedict: Finance! She finance now.

Anthony: Benedict. Please tell Sophie how sorry we are for last night and that we are all incredibly happy for her. For both of you.

Anthony: You can also tell her she has an impressive right hook.

Anthony: …

Anthony: Benedict?

Anthony: Benedict are you there?

Violet: He’s not going to answer. Sophie finally took his phone away. But I’ll tell her.

Daphne: Everyone say thank you to Kate and Simon. They spent almost an hour trying to talk Sophie out of leaving Benedict while we were all freaking out.

Francesca: Do they know?

Daphne: I told Simon

Anthony: Kate knows

Gregory: Kate and Simon right now probably

Eloise: Anthony. How much did you just drop on ‘thank you for saving my ass’ jewelry for Kate?

Anthony: Fuck off.

Francesca: I texted Kate. She’s checking the bank account.

Francesca: About 5k by the looks of it. And he’s taking her to Paris.

Anthony: I hate all of you.

#violet and footman John fully Tokyo drifting through London to get back to the hospital and stop Sophie #and yes Colin and Anthony regularly wear the sweatshirts #Benedict wears it once a week #my fics. #inspired by bridgertonbabe #little ficlet #bridgerton #benophie #someone off screen thou

[rriavian]

WIP - Unofficial Business

I wanted to post something new yesterday but I've been a little slow to finish some works, so please enjoy an unfinished snippet of something I wrote last week. I promised @jessamydreams a cuddle fic and I've had a rough outline in my notes for ages.

-

Matthew finds him—eyes a silver glow, the only light left outside it seems—passes on the summons, and inside the palace the Corinthian finds flame. He finds corridors lit by torches.

The kings room lit by Dream.

He can see it through the cracks before the Corinthian opens the door. Then for a moment he can’t see at all—this light the only kind that can blind him, the only kind that does—then soft twilight, Dream filtering it down, and it’s moments like this that make the Corinthian believe he really is his kings favourite.

Dream’s cheeks are flushed.

It’s subtle, just a light rosy pink, a crack in marble nonetheless, giving the game away because this delectable shade now highlighting sharp cheekbones is a clue to blood beneath. This a treasure map, where to dig or perhaps where to mine, this glimmer of quartz coyly announcing a vein of precious ore. The Corinthian wonders how deep it goes, wonders how this shade might darken, wonders how he can find out. Dream’s eyes are glassy, dazed, this starlight fever bright—how uncharacteristic for a star, how like flesh and bone—an answer to another question.

Outside the palace the Corinthian knows that the Dreaming is dark.

The sunset’s blushing here.

“You sick or something.” The Corinthian says abruptly.

He’s unable to help himself, off balance, blindsided to the point of almost not knowing what to say. Perhaps it’s because his eyes can finally feast, teeth no longer skittering off, sinking deep into a weakness he’s been built to taste.

“Yes.” Dream replies.

#little ficlet #fic progress #my writing

[steddielations]

Staying the night, cuddling well into the morning is entirely new to Eddie when he starts dating Steve.

He hasn’t been with many guys. Favors exchanged behind a club building were quick and done. Meaningless and he didn’t mind, got used to it because that’s just how it is for people like Eddie.

No chance of going steady with someone, holding hands through a field of roses, that romantic shit wasn’t in the cards for him so he convinced himself he didn’t want it anyway. The couple of guys he’s managed to get a room with were gone by the time he woke up. Even when he thought there was something more, only to wake up alone with a cold pillow.

So with Steve, he loves being the big spoon, wrapping all four limbs around him, clinging to him so he can’t go anywhere. Not that Steve would, he never pulls away, never leaves, he loves being held as much as Eddie loves holding him. Eddie knows he won’t wake up alone, he gets the best sleep of his life with Steve in his arms. Just feeling Steve there with him, still.

Then once, Eddie’s half asleep when Steve comes over after working a late shift. Eddie’s too sleepy to turn around, mumbling “hey sweehar” and Steve shushes him, climbing in, sliding an arm over his waist and gently tugging Eddie against him.

Eddie sighs blissfully when Steve noses through his hair to kiss the back of his neck. He’s too tired to process all the little bursts of warmth firing off at the feeling of being held. He just melts into it, falling asleep easier than ever.

Then when he wakes up in the morning, still wrapped in Steve’s arms, he’s rocked with emotions welling in his chest. Steve’s arm is still tucked over Eddie’s stomach, leg slotted between Eddie’s, nose pressed against Eddie’s shoulder, snoozing softly.

Intimacy is everywhere, snug against his body, filling his stomach with fuzzy warmth. There in Steve’s arms, held through the night, Eddie feels so kept.

No one’s ever held onto Eddie before.

Guys don’t do that to Eddie. He’s not the one they hold onto, the one they keep. He’s the one they hide, the one they leave alone in an alley or a cold bed. The one they can’t get away from fast enough and fucking forget. Eddie was fine with that because he never expected anything more.

Eddie wasn’t prepared to be loved by Steve Harrington.

It’s ridiculous. A fairytale. Eddie Munson who crawled through seedy bars and back alleys somehow conned his way into the most loving arms imaginable. It’s so fucking ridiculous.

He starts laughing. Chuckling hysterically into his pillow. The whole bed starts to shake and so does Eddie. His laughs turn wet, a mix of cackling and sobbing bubbles from his throat.

Steve stirs awake, looking over Eddie’s shoulder, “Eddie … Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks softly, gathering Eddie’s hair from the tears on his cheeks and tucking it behind his ear.

Another wave of laughs and sobs. Eddie battled monsters with Metallica and somehow dating Steve is the most insane thing to happen to him.

Finally, Eddie says with a happily overwhelmed exhale, “I love you and you love me.”

Steve blinks, “What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing just,” Eddie looks up at him, propped on his elbow still perfect somehow with bed hair, looking down at Eddie like he’s the precious thing here. So, so ridiculous. “Shit like this doesn’t happen to me. You weren’t supposed to happen to me.”

Steve’s brows knit curiously, and Eddie really can’t explain it more than that. He’s just having a damn moment. He almost died not too long ago, now he’s got all this life and love coming out of nowhere at him, it fucks him up sometimes.

Steve gets it, reassuring after a moment, “Well it’s happening, Munson. You got me now and I’ve got you.”

Eddie laughs, still a little wet and pulls Steve’s arm over him, snuggling back against his chest. Steve tightens his hold and Eddie settles into the way it feels to be something worth holding in Steve’s arms.

“Yeah just…” Eddie says, voice small, “Just keep me, Steve. Okay?”

Steve presses kisses to his shoulder and up his neck, soft but with so much feeling behind them, “You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.”

Eddie snorts and yeah. He really likes being Steve’s little spoon.

For @steddie-week day 2: fluff and/or angst

#they switch up everything but here’s my beloved little spoon eddie #steddie #my fics #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #rueswriting #eddie munson headcanons #steddieweek2023 #fluff

[chronicowboy]

Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.

Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.

It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.

It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.

"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.

"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.

"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.

"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.

"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"

"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.

"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"

"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.

"You just thought..."

"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."

"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.

"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."

"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.

It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.

Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.

Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.

"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."

"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.

And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.

#sami rambles #i had lots of feelings about the coffee order #this is for elke <33333 #the amount of inspiration ive got from our silly little dms.... #911 show #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #buck x tommy #911 fic #911 ficlet #bucktommy fic #buck x tommy fic #bucktommy ficlet

[steddiealltheway]

Steve lays in his bed with thoughts of Eddie in the boathouse. For some reason, he wants to go to him. Hell, he knows he probably can't sleep, and they need him as well rested as they can so he can stay on alert through this whole hunt the freak thing.

Plus, a small part of him knows what it's like to be stuck with your thoughts late at night after dealing with the Upside Down shit. And it's not pleasant. Especially alone.

Another part of him knows that Dustin would never be okay if something happened to Eddie after they told him things would be fine.

But things will be fine. Especially if Steve goes to the boathouse and keeps watch for part of the night.

He throws on some more layers and grabs a protein bar for Eddie before driving that way, trying not to get too weirded out by the concept of him hanging out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

Hopefully this time he won't be threatened with that damn broken bottle.

He pulls up a little ways away from Reefer Rick's place and parks before grabbing his nail bat and creeping his way to the shed. He rounds the side toward the door and knocks lightly, whisper yelling, "Eddie! It's Steve! Open up!"

He waits a few moments before sighing and raising his voice. "I'm opening the door. Just don't kill me."

He slowly opens the door, glancing around the boathouse and finding it empty. He glances at the tarp over the boat and sighs, "Eddie, I know you're under there. It's just me."

The tarp shifts slightly, and Steve stares up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Okay, I get it. You don't trust me, and you have no reason to really. But we both know Dustin would kill me if I ever attempted to hurt you or turn you in. Plus, I know you're innocent, so I'm just going to stay here until you come out." He pauses before adding on, "I'll even hum so you know where I am."

He starts humming the first song that comes to mind which ends up being "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."

The tarp shifts and Steve watches as Eddie slowly reveals himself, bottle in hand, pointed at Steve. His eyes flicker to the bat in Steve's hand.

Steve stops humming. "It's for your safety," he says, lifting it up a little.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, and Steve gets the message before he drops the bat and raises his hands in surrender.

Eddie nods at him. "What's in your hand?"

Steve glances up and tosses the protein bar at Eddie. "Food," he says as Eddie curses, failing to catch the bar.

Steve takes a step closer but Eddie holds out the bottle to him and stands up. "Why are you here?"

"To make sure you're safe."

He looks unconvinced.

Steve shrugs and crosses his arms. "Okay, I know what it's like trying to process all this shit on your own, and it sucks, man. I didn't have anyone with me the first night after everything went down, and I didn't think I would make it through the night without that thing coming back."

"So what? You're here to help the freak with no ulterior motive, and I'm supposed to believe that?"

"You can tell me to leave, but I don't really want to spend the night alone either," Steve confesses, hoping that it will help Eddie trust him a bit.

Eddie only stares at him for a few moments before leaning out of the boat to pick up the bat before sitting down and picking up the protein bar. He unwraps it and bites off half of it before asking, "Tears for Fears, really?"

It takes a second for Steve to really understand what Eddie's asking before he smiles slightly. "That's what you're worried about?"

Eddie shrugs, taking around his mouthful, "I was just wondering if you really thought that's the type of music I'm into."

"It's the first song that came to mind. But no. I know you're into that metal stuff that Mike's been going on about." Steve takes a tentative step forward, watching the way Eddie's eyes follow the step.

He raises his eyebrows when Eddie glances up at him and shifts a bit before gesturing to the spot in front of him. Steve takes the invitation and sits in front of him, shifting a bit around the boat before grimacing.

"I bet you're missing your bed," Eddie comments as he finishes off the bar, dropping the wrapper in the boat before grabbing his broken bottle again. Luckily this time, he doesn't point it in Steve's direction.

"A bit," Steve confesses as he fails to get comfortable. He wishes he could take Eddie back to his home and maybe even give him the guest bedroom so he doesn't have to stay here.

Wait.

Steve glances up to where Eddie is tightly gripping the handle of his bat and the neck of the broken bottle and slowly reaches out his hand, asking for the bat. As Eddie hands it over reluctantly, Steve says, "Why don't you stay at my house for now? No one would guess you would be there."

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. "I'm not risking you getting caught with me."

"Well, it's too late for that." Steve says before circling back a bit to ask, "Why?"

Eddie shrugs and glances down at the bottle. "Because Dustin would kill me."

Steve sighs and lays the bat on the side of the boat. "You can hide in the back of my car on the drive there. It'll be easy to sneak you in."

"And your parents?"

"Gone for the foreseeable future. And even if they do come back, I can hide you in my closet or something."

Eddie shoots him a look. "Comfortable."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Eddie glances around the boathouse. "I don't mind staying here at the moment."

Steve's not sure why he wants to fight him on it so bad, but he gives in and says, "Just consider it after we've killed Vecna and we're going through the whole clearing your name process, okay?"

"Why?"

The question takes Steve off guard, but he easily deflects saying, "Because Dustin would kill me."

Eddie nods and looks off, getting that same far-off haunted look on his face. Before Steve can attempt to distract him Eddie snaps out of it asking, "And if someone comes here now, how will you explain why you're here?"

Steve glances around and looks at the windows and door. "Okay, maybe we should get under the tarp before that happens."

Eddie stares at him. "You want to get cozy with me in this boat?"

"I want to save both of our asses for now. If we hear something, we stay hidden, and if they come inside, we grab the bat and bottle and we attack." Get cozy with him?

Eddie sighs, "Can't wait," before shifting to sit next to Steve, placing his bottle carefully down toward the end of the boat before grabbing the tarp.

Steve shifts the bat, nails side at the end of the boat and shifts to lay back.

Eddie glances down at him and asks, "Ready?"

Steve nods as Eddie pulls the tarp over them and lays back. In the process, he ends up jostling Steve and shifting him to the side, almost getting his leg stabbed by the bat as Eddie curses about the bottle. They both shift to face each other, quickly noticing that they're around the same height with the way their feet are knocking into each other their breath is mingling together.

It is very weirdly intimate.

"Steve?" Eddie asks.

Steve hums in response.

"Maybe we should pull the tarp back until we hear something."

"Great plan," Steve says quickly, reaching up to pull the tarp back a bit.

There's a bit of moonlight shining through the windows which illuminates Eddie's face enough for Steve to be able to admire him. Steve blames the intimate position for his thoughts about how Eddie "The Freak" Munson is kind of beautiful.

Eddie's eyebrows furrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Steve quickly looks away and lies, "Just thinking."

"About?"

Steve takes a moment and readjusts a bit. "Just never thought I would be hanging out with you."

Eddie shifts as well, accidentally brushing his hand against where Steve's own hand lies between them. Eddie's hand shoots back to his chest. "if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't call this hanging out. We're just two people who are linked through some supernatural shit with parallel worlds and are trying to keep each other alive so Dustin doesn't kill us." He lets out a slow deep breath through his nose and glances away. "It doesn't have to mean anything. Trust me, I know you wouldn't be here unless you had to be."

Steve lets the feeling of regret run through him. "That's not what I meant."

"No?" Eddie challenges him.

"No," Steve confesses. "Dustin didn't ask me to come here, you know."

"So, you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Eddie asks, tone dripping with disbelief.

"I didn't want you to be alone."

"Yeah, you said that before."

Steve's eyebrows furrow. "And?"

"And I'm sorry if I have trouble believing it."

Steve just blinks at him, unsure what to say other than his usual apology for being an asshole in high school.

Eddie beats him to it and sighs, "You're just... Steve Harrington. And I'm 'The Freak.'"

Steve can't help but snarkily reply, "I didn't realize that was your legal name."

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

As much as he hates it, Steve does understand what he means. He looks him in the eye and says, "You know if I could go back and change how I was in high school, I would. Because, trust me, being 'King Steve' was not all that it was chalked up to be. And everyone I love still sees me that way. It's like they're waiting for that guy to come back or something because they're always in disbelief that I've changed or whatever. It's all just... bullshit." He sighs out the word, trying not to think too hard about understanding what Nancy meant when she called him it.

Eddie continues to stare at him, eyes wandering over his face as if he's trying to make his own assessment of him. Or as if he's waiting for the real Steve to pop out, the inevitable asshole. Instead, he just says, "You're different than I imagined."

"Is that a good thing?" Steve can't help but ask.

"Give me a business day or two, and I'll get back to you about it," Eddie says with a smile.

The response startles a laugh out of Steve which he quickly covers with his hand before he rests it in the space between them. "Maybe you're different, too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks.

"I thought you'd be way less willing to accept my presence here."

Eddie shrugs the shoulder he isn't laying on. "Well, being alone seemed to be slightly more appalling than spending time with you." He smiles and nudges him with his foot. "I'm joking. At least, now I'm joking."

Steve rolls his eyes and nudges Eddie with a little too much force, sending them both off balance and causing Steve to end up a bit sprawled out on top of Eddie who stares up at him with wide eyes.

For some reason, the new angle really does something for Steve who can only think of kissing Eddie. He leans back and takes a deep breath before an idea strikes him. He blames his tired, anxiety-ridden mind on the reason for voicing his thought, "You know, I can think of a better way to explain why I'm here if someone comes in."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, face carefully blank but a heavy swallow gives him away.

Steve shrugs. "Who is to question King Steve hooking up with some random girl in Reefer Rick's empty boathouse?"

"Christ," Eddie mumbles out, eyes flicking down to Steve's lips. "Are you suggesting we...?"

Steve looks down at him innocently. "I mean, if it comes down to it, I would be down to kiss you. Your hair is long enough to hide your face," he turns to the door and windows, "And from this angle, they would barely catch a glimpse of you."

Eddie swallows again and breathes out, "You're definitely not what I thought you'd be like."

"And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him. "Yeah, I would say it is definitely a good thing."

Steve smiles down at him and is about to shift off of him when there's a sudden noise outside of the boathouse. He feels Eddie freeze beneath him.

"Steve... I know it was probably a joke, but either cover us with the tarp or kiss me," Eddie whispers quickly.

Steve reaches out for the tarp and pulls it over their heads, noticing the slight look of disappointment on Eddie's face before the tarp blocks out the light. His hands reach out, landing on Eddie's chest before trailing up to cup his jaw.

"What are you doing?" Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his heart thudding in his chest impossibly faster at the sensation.

"Why not do both?" Steve whispers into the air between them.

He waits as Eddie's own hands come up to his shoulders, tracing their way into Steve's hair. "Both. Yeah. Both are good."

Steve's not sure who moves first, but their kiss is frenzied, filled with the anxiety of Hawkins crumbling around them along with the possibility of Eddie being caught, mixed with the fact that they're "The Hair" and "The Freak." And this is not supposed to be happening.

But Steve doesn't care. He deepens the kiss, groaning when Eddie tugs at his hair and pulls him closer. God, Steve can practically feel the kiss go through his full body, and he can't remember the last time a kiss made him feel like this.

The air around them under the tarp gets warmer as the kiss goes on, and Steve finds himself breaking away for air only to chase Eddie's lips again. It's all intoxicating. And the warm air makes it feel like he isn't getting enough air as Eddie practically sucks it out of him.

He breaks away and gasps, "God, I want to lift the tarp, but I can't risk anyone seeing you."

Eddie doesn't answer, he just pulls the tarp slightly off them before pulling Steve into another kiss. Steve can barely register the relief of the cool air hitting the back of his damp neck as he gets lost in Eddie.

"Can't see me remember?" Eddie says against Steve's lips.

"They can- mmm. See the rings," Steve manages to get out.

Eddie's hands slowly drift down Steve's back, resting on the dip of his spine that's still under the tarp. "Better?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at Eddie, his mouth pink and damp, cheeks flushed red, pupils blown wide. "God, you're beautiful," Steve says without thinking.

Eddie stares at him for a moment, face carefully blank before he glances at the window. "Do you think they're still here?"

Steve glances out the window and debates what to say next. He settles with the truth. "I'm pretty sure it was just a branch that hit the window."

Eddie nods and worries his bottom lip, not looking at Steve. He's still struggling to catch his breath, but Steve can't say much when he is equally as winded.

Steve pauses and says, "But maybe someone's out there. Or..." He shakes his head, trying not to finish the thought out loud.

"Or what?" Eddie asks.

"Or maybe I just want to kiss you again," Steve confesses.

Eddie looks up at him and pauses, eyes searching Steve's face for something. He glances toward the window and says, "I can't exactly be on high alert if you kiss me again, but..." he glances at Steve and finishes his thought, "I think it's worth the risk."

"If you really think about it, it's more risky if I stop kissing you."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion. "And why's that?"

"Because I'll only be able to think about kissing you again and won't be on high alert," Steve flirts easily. "And really, it's a great cover."

Eddie smiles and even momentarily laughs. "You're so full of shit," he says, but pulls Steve down to him, kissing him again with the same frenzied energy.

Only, Steve pulls away and winks at him. "We've got all night. We can take it slow."

"I think you're going to kill me."

Steve brushes a strand of hair out of his face. "And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him again. "Yes," he answers, kissing Steve again but slowly, taking his time with him.

It's fair to say that Steve's original plan of keeping watch and letting Eddie sleep goes out the window, but he's pretty sure it's worth it.

It's definitely worth it.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #all of this to explain steve's little finger waggle wave at Eddie the next morning

[strangersteddierthings]

"Look, Steve, I don't have any bad feelings towards you," Eddie says, has been saying, talking nonsense, like he and Steve weren't anything more than fuckbuddies, like he isn't breaking Steve's heart. "I used you too, y'know?"

It's then Steve rears back like he been slapped. Or punched. It feels more like a gutting. Joke's on him, he supposes. Once again, he wants more than the other person. He wanted a boyfriend, Eddie'd wanted sex. Why does he keep trying? When Steve finds his voice to speak, it comes out flat and dead and not really like a question at all. "Used me. Like you think I've used you?"

Eddie shrugs, looking for all the world like he's not bothered by that statement. "We had fun, right? So it's all fine in the end."

"Fine," Steve repeats, hollow. They're in his house but Steve feels the need to leave, to run before the reality of how unlovable he truly is sticks inside him forever.

"But I think we should stop while we're ahead," Eddie continues and Steve wonders if Eddie is listening to him at all, or just saying his piece before he goes. Can he not hear Steve's heart breaking? "I want to... I want to find someone to love."

If Eddie's previous words felt like being gutted, these ones feel like cement. Heavy and solidifying. Trapping in the truth of Ever Unlovable Steve. He doesn't even feel heartbroken anymore. Just numb. Dead inside. He should say something encouraging. Let Eddie know that all he's wanted was for Eddie to be happy and loved. But words seem impossible, so he gives one jerky nod of his head. An understanding.

"Right," Eddie says, returning the nod before turning away, towards the door, "I'll just go now. Umm, see ya later, Harrington."

Facing the horrors of the Upside Down should feel like the scariest thing he's ever done but it doesn't. Watching Eddie walk away does. Steve should be able to hold it together long enough for Eddie to leave. He's the tough one. He can hold himself together no problem-

"Why can't you love me?"

Eddie whips back around, an expression on his face like confusion and anger mixed.

It's only then that Steve realizes he spoke. He hasn't meant to. He was going to let Eddie walk away but now his voice has been freed from the cement. His heart has shut down his brain it seems because he just keeps talking, voice flat and hollow, "why can't you love me the way I love you? What is so broken and wrong within me that no one loves me back? My parents, Nancy, now you. Why can't- I thought that we were- where did I go wrong?"

"What?" Eddie asks, and the anger is gone from his face but now he just looks horrified. Which is understandable. It's horrifying to be loved by Steve Harrington. "What did you think we were?"

Boyfriends. Together. Going steady. At the very least, dating without labels. But none of those very reasonable, normal answers come out of Steve's treacherous mouth. Because Steve can't seem to be a reasonable, normal person. He's got to be too much, too soon, too clingy. So, instead, he says, "In love."

Eddie looks like he's just received the worst news of his life. In fact, he looks a little sick. "Oh fuck. Jesus Christ. I can't- I thought- Fuck!"

Steve just nods along. He hadn't actually said I love you to Nancy that night at Tina's Halloween party, but he imagines if he had, the beginning of the bullshit conversation would have sounded much the same as Eddie does now; like anger and regret, the starts and stops. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- if you want to go, you should go."

Eddie crosses the room back to Steve in half the steps he took when he first walked away, hands reaching to grab Steve's face between them. He speaks quickly and sounds panicked now. "No, no no no. I fucked up, misunderstood. I don't know how I got it so wrong. I don't want to go. I never did."

"What?"

"I am in love with you, sweetheart. I just- I didn't know you loved me back. I thought you didn't- that we weren't..."

"I thought we were boyfriends."

"Jesus, please let me fix this. Let me stay and make it up to you. I'll be the best fucking boyfriend you've ever had."

Steve thinks if he had any shred of self-worth he might step back, make Eddie explain himself, but as it is, he steps into Eddie's space and kisses him, hands pulling him as close as he can get. He doesn't want to think about the cruel things Eddie's said, about using each other. Maybe one day they'll have to hash that out, have that conversation, but Eddie says he loves him too, and that's all Steve's wanted.

#steddie #my fic #angst with a happy ending #or like maybe bittersweet end 'cause of Steve's headspace #i dunno #just a little ficlet as warmup writing #so i thought i'd share