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#to the point his brain was just like 'it's not going away. the only way to fix this is to straight up die. bitch'
kingkaizen · 3 days
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𝓯𝓸𝓬𝓾𝓼
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∘ desc: studying is always best when you're getting your pussy played with <3
∘ ft: nanami
∘ a/n: for all of my loves approaching finals week, hope this helps <3
∘ includes: fingering, pussy slaps, choking, overstimulation
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“Focus for me, sweetheart.”
Nanami’s calloused fingertips hovering just slightly over your soaked cunt was the only thing your clouded brain could focus on. Sitting with your back against his chest, legs spread and notebook in hand, he wasn’t referring to you to focus on him. No, he wants you to try your hardest to absorb as much information from that notebook as you could. With your finals coming up, it’s incredibly important to make sure you’re effectively studying in order to get the best grade possible. Nanami thinks that your education is important, and he will do everything he can to make sure that you pass all of your classes.
“You’re always so wet for me.” Nanami mutters to himself, always in awe by how beautiful you look all spread out for him. “Go ahead, read the next paragraph honey.” Your eyes search on the white page for what you read last, finding your place before reading out loud.
“This n-next section illustrates -fuck- the essentials for…” You trail off, brain fogged over at the feeling of him finally making contact with your throbbing clit. He circles around it slowly before applying just the right amount of pleasure, causing you to throw your head back onto his chest. His fingers leave your body just as fast as they got there, making you groan in frustration.
“Kento, I can’t do this anymore. Please just touch me already.” You’re growing increasingly frustrated at this point. Fuck your exam, you just want him inside of you. Nanami has other plans, however, shaking his head no at your request.
“You know I can’t do that, love. This test is more important than whatever this pretty little pussy of yours wants.” Nanami gives your cunt two quick slaps, making you jump in surprise at the sudden contact. “Finish reading this page and I’ll reward you, come on.” You could feel Nanami’s warm breath tickling your ear as his fingers made their way back, teasing you so much that it’s driving you insane. You’re growing more and more desperate by the second, hands shaking in anticipation as you continue reading. The further you get down the page, the more Nanami is willing to give you. 
“...and with that, c-concludes the end of this chapter.” As soon as you get that last sentence out, Nanami plunges two thick fingers into you, curving them ever so slightly to hit that gummy spot that causes you to cry out in delight. You’re gripping his biceps with so much force, trying anything to keep you grounded as he shows you no mercy. He’s putting his forearm to work, tiring his wrist out to push in and out of you as his other hand grips your neck to push your head back against his chest. The eye contact is so intense, hand wrapping around your throat making you clench around his fingers.
“So greedy.” Nanami chuckles, watching the way your eyes flutter closed in your pathetic attempts to keep them open. “Gonna cum all over my fingers? C’mon baby, let it all out for me.” Nanami’s words made your heart pound even harder, legs shaking as that feeling deep in your tummy starts to overwhelm you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs closing around his hand as you gush all over him. He groans at the sight, fingers slowing down inside of you as he works you through your high. He kisses all over the side of your face and neck, each touch of his lips feeling like sparks of electricity over your skin. Sensing that you’re finally coming back down, his fingers make slow movements inside once more. You whimper at the feeling, pleasure coursing through your veins once more. 
“Too much, Kento!” You cry out, hands gripping his wrist in a weak attempt to pry his large hand away from your warmth. He doesn’t move an inch, instead adjusting the hand on his neck to slowly move down over your collarbones, fingers twisting over one of your nipples.
“I’m sure you could take it. You’ve been such a good girl for me, let me give you a treat for all of your hard work.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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dollfacefantasy · 1 day
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wearing leon's hoodie during sex… he’s fucking u from behind and pushes the hoodie up to reveal your back… he grabs the top of the hoodie for leverage, and to pull you closer…
uh huh uh huh. i see your vision so here's a little drabble <3
leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v
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It starts when Leon comes home from running some errands. He's kind of riled up. There was traffic, it was too cold out, there was people everywhere, and it seemed like he was the only one who knew what he was doing. He slams the front door and tosses his keys on the counter, letting out an irritated sigh and stomping up the stairs to your shared bedroom.
But there you are. His baby. Tucked away safe from the rest of the world. His beam of sunshine among the gray clouds that pollute the sky today.
You're laying on the bed, curled up with a blanket and gazing at the tv with only half your attention. Long legs lie exposed, soft from the strawberry scented lotion you'd lathered them in. Best of all, you're wearing his hoodie. An article of his clothing.
He tries to be casual about getting what he wants. He attempts pleasantries, acts like the shedding of his clothes is innocent. He's only doing it to be comfy enough to join you in your lazy day.
Not even thirty minutes later though, you're face down, head pressed to the pillow, ass raised in the air. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he sheaths himself all the way inside you. You whine as your hole stretches around his length, accepting the intrusion. Your fingers claw at the fluffy blanket beneath you as he starts thrusting.
In and out, back and forth. It seems like each time he hits a new pleasure spot or coaxes another needy whine from your lips.
"That's right, baby. Feels so good, doesn't it?" he grunts as he pumps his cock as deep as it can go within you.
"Mhm," you whimper your voice shaky.
"Uh huh," he agrees. The sound of him panting combined with the slap of his skin on yours overwhelms your brain. "Who's fucking you this good, honey? Who's got you making all those cute little noises?"
The response is automatic. "You," you choke out as your body rocks with his momentum.
"Who?" he prompts you, wanting specificity.
Your words falter for a moment under the pressure of him rutting into your soaked cunt, but you regain the ability to speak before he could ask again.
"Leon," you whine, dragging out the ending sound.
He mumbles some words of praise, but they fly right over your head. His thoughts weren't on what he was saying either. He was much more focused on hearing you cry out his name while his eyes locked on the space between your shoulder blades.
On the fabric of the hoodie in that area, Kennedy was emblazoned in vinyl. It stood out in bright white on the soft black cloth. You were his. There was the physical and verbal proof. He pistons into you at a quicker speed as the primal part of his brain starts to take over. The part that just wanted to claim you and keep you as his own held the reins now.
Your eyes start to gloss up as thoughts melt away in your brain and drip from your mouth as drool. Your cheek squishes further into the mattress below. Everything is getting to that point where it feels fuzzy and far away. And you're content with that. You're content to just melt into a puddle of euphoria on the bed, but Leon had other ideas for you.
He bunches the hood of his hoodie together, handling it like he would a leash. Then with a firm tug, you're straight up on your knees. Your back is arched so your ass is flush against his pelvis while your head bobbles around near his.
"Oh fuck, baby..." you cry, "So fucking deep now."
He chuckles and yanks you even closer. The new angle did have him even further within you. If it wasn't for his hand supporting you, there was no doubt in your mind you'd flop forward and face plant into the memory foam.
His hips snap as though they're possessed, not stopping for the slightest break. Both of you are starting to work up a sweat, you a little more so from the thick fabric that covered your upper half.
"Mhm. All the way inside you. And I'm the only one who's ever gonna feel this," he mumbles.
"Only you," you agree without a second thought.
You can't speak anymore than that because your voice has devolved into pure moaning. Soft little cries of ecstasy leave you over and over as he fills you up just as many times.
"Want you to cum for me, baby. Milk me fucking dry so I can mark you on the inside too," he mutters.
And that's all it takes really. The thought of being claimed so thoroughly does it for you, and you seize up on command. Every part of you contracts and tightens up, including your pussy, locking him in.
That's what does it for him. The knowledge that you want to be claimed, that you love that you're all his. He shoots all his release inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.
Afterwards, he takes care to clean you up, actually ask about your day while he gets you comfy again. The sweat-soaked hoodie ends up in the laundry, and the two of you curl up in bed, together this time. If he didn't get off on the possessive part of this whole thing so much, he'd probably just buy you one of those hoodies for yourself. You were gonna be a Kennedy in no time anyways.
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em-prentiss · 2 days
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Tell your baby that I’m your baby
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Seeing Aaron’s wife at work takes you by surprise.
Cw: fem!bau!reader, angst, past relationship, use of pet names (honey, baby), no use of yn, young Aaron/reader
Word count: 1.6k
if you have any Aaron requests, let me know! <3
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1993
“Aaron,” you laugh as you plant your hand on his chest and try to shove him away.
“Yes, baby?” He returns innocently, taking your hand off his chest and linking his fingers through yours. He nuzzles his face into your neck, dropping soft, warm kisses on your jaw.
You sigh and close your eyes, sinking back into his chest. Studying is all but impossible with him touching you, but you still try. “I need to study,” you say weakly as his lips move over your pulse. He gently grazes the skin with his teeth, holding back a smirk as you hum contentedly. His warm hand slips up your shirt.
“Study then,” he murmurs, pushing you back so you fall against the pillows. You hear a thud and the rustle of papers as he knocks your textbook to the floor. “I’m not stopping you,” he leans over you and kisses you breathless, his lips insistent against yours. He only pulls back to redirect his attention to your neck, the sharp lines of your collarbone calling to him like a siren.
Your brain goes hazy. Aaron’s fingers skate across the sensitive skin of your hipbone, just under the hem of your sweatpants. He nips your skin and you go boneless beneath him. Your textbook is long forgotten, buried beneath the fog he put your brain in.
“Asshole.” You curse as you wrap your legs around his waist.
Aaron looks up at you and grins, obviously pleased with himself. The silver frames of his glasses glint in the low light of your dorm, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks. You fist his shirt and drag him down on top of you, shutting up the smart retort that was just on the tip of his tongue 
“If I’m sacrificing my test for this,” you breathe, burying your fingers in his hair and tugging at the strands, “it better be damn good, Aaron.”
He smiles, a thrill going through him at getting responsible, studious you to drop your revision for him. “Have I ever let you down?” He murmurs, dipping his hand down the hemline of your sweatpants. Your breath catches and you tighten your grip on his hair. “Don’t worry, honey,” his large hand cups your hip, warm and teasing as he lightly drags his fingers over your skin, “I’ll make it worth your while.”
****
2005
“Hi honey. What are you doing here?”
Hot knives bury themselves in your heart at Aaron’s voice, soft and low and not directed at you. You clench your hand into a fist as he walks over to his wife’s side, placing a hand on her waist and the other one on his infant son’s back. She smiles brightly and twists her face up to look at him, her body leaning into his like a sunflower searching for the sun.
You hadn’t thought much of the blonde with the baby in her arms making her way through the bullpen. She’d stopped at your desk—the closest one to Aaron’s office—and asked brightly if you knew where Aaron was, his office empty and the door slung open. 
You hadn’t made the connection, even as she shifted the struggling baby in her arms, calmed him down with a soothing rub on his back, shiny rings glinting on her finger. Briefly, you thought it was weird, but you vaguely pointed to the kitchenette, telling her, “I think he’s over there.” Only you didn’t think, you knew, because you’re still ever aware of his movements, his presence. 
You were still stuck trying to figure out who she was, why she called him Aaron. It all became clear when he approached, his eyes soft and his voice softer still as he placed his mug on an empty desk and went to her with his arms outstretched, his hand fitting itself on the curve of her waist. 
“Hi honey. What are you doing here?” He murmurs, his voice traveling to you and breaking you out of your shock.
Your chest tightens painfully and you look away, your vision blurring as you stare down at the dark wood of your desk, trying to force the tears away. You don’t hear her reply, still stuck on that one word.
Honey. 
That used to be you. 
Drive safe, honey, he’d say as he opened the door for you, jittery at the thought of you driving back home in the snow. Where’d you go, honey? He’d murmur when you would drift away in your thoughts, eyes unfocused until he’d bring you back with soft kisses on your cheeks and jaw. I love you, honey, he’d whisper when you were warm and sleepy in his arms, his fingers soothingly running through your hair as your eyes fluttered shut.
You tighten your grip on the pen in your hand, your eyes involuntarily darting back to them, two still figures in the bustle of the bullpen. Aaron smiles at her as she says something about taking their son to the park, his fingers drawing absent circles on her shirt. 
Just for a few moments, his usual stoic demeanor falls away at the presence of his wife and son, his dimples soft in his cheeks as he turns to kiss the baby’s forehead. 
It doesn’t surprise you that he forgets himself. Aaron was always hesitant with physical affection in public, but wherever you were, the whole world fell away. You stole his whole attention and he stole yours, anyone else a buzz in the background as he held your hand, sometimes in silence, but mostly as you enthusiastically talked to him while he listened with a smile.
He does the same now. Aaron takes his son into his arms and smiles when the baby starts fiddling with his tie, his dimples carving familiar half moons into his cheeks. It feels hard to breathe suddenly. In the 8 months you’ve been in the BAU you’ve never seen them once, the nature of the job and the tension between you two depriving you from seeing them again.
But Aaron’s smiles weren’t always hard to come by. 
You finally stand up on shaky legs, nauseous and slightly suffocated as you make your way past them and into the bathroom. 
You don’t see Aaron’s eyes on your retreating figure, a little startled, as if he just remembered you were there. For a fleeting second, you steal his attention again, like you so easily did before. 
But then Haley captures it again. And he turns back to her, smile only a little dimmer as Jack babbles in his ear, a small wrinkle between his brows as he stops himself from looking at the bathroom door again.
You don’t leave for another 15 minutes, stomach cramped and tears hastily pushed down your throat as you walk past them to your desk again. You hear their voices; a mixture of bright chatter and a low murmur and a high pitched, childish babble.
Don’t look, you tell yourself. Keep your eyes forward. And you do. And you almost make it. But morbid curiosity makes you glance at them again. 
This time Aaron’s eyes meet yours, the child he wanted but you never did cuddling closer to his neck.
Your breath catches and you turn away, walking back to your desk and feeling your whole body burst into flames. You sit down and turn your gaze firmly to your computer, fiddling around and opening emails you’d already read, trying to distract yourself from him.
“I have to go, Haley.” You hear him say gently. 
Her name is Haley. You never asked, but now it floats from his mouth to your ears, soft, suffused with love. Aaron and Haley. You wonder what his son’s name is.
Their footsteps fade as they walk out of the bullpen. Your shoulders relax the tiniest bit, air rushing into your lungs suddenly. You drop your head into your hands, welcoming the darkness and taking a deep, shuddering breath. You see him, in the dark. Him and you, intertwined on his bed, lounging in the park under the sun, hiding in a bathroom from all your friends. You can still feel the imprint of his dimples beneath your thumbs, the softness of his hair between your fingers.
Aaron walks hesitantly to your desk, blissfully alone. You feel him hovering over your shoulder and lift your head from your hands, not looking at him until he stands in front of your desk, one of his hands landing nervously on the divider. He opens his mouth, says nothing but your name before you cut him off.
“Was there anything you wanted?” You ask briskly, your voice a little rougher than it usually is.
It’s rude and definitely not something you should be saying to your boss. But he’s not just your boss. Aaron lets it go, for the same reason you snapped at him in the first place—you two have history, one he’s buried deep and never looked back on, one you’re still hung up over.
He clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head.
Does she know? You want to ask. Does she know you loved me first, does she know you called me all the same names you call her? 
From the look on her face when she first approached you, you know she doesn’t, but you still feel a strange urge to ask him, wondering if his reaction would give anything away. Your eyes meet his, all the warmth he reserved for his wife and once, you, gone.
You don’t ask.
Aaron leaves quietly, fiddling with his ring as he walks up the stairs and into his office. 
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heauxvibez · 2 days
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..Is Mine..
warning: smut (+18) ...umm can we talk about the gif above...whew chile...anywaysss the people have voted and ya'll wanted this! It's a part 2 to Jealous, just a different pov : ). Enjoy!
So... Tell me that, that pussy is mine... Yeah... Tell me, tell me baby It's all mine Yeah...
"Will you stop walking away from me and let me talk to you!" The door slammed shut behind me, punctuating the tension between us.
Our ride home had turned into a heated exchange, the playful banter now replaced by a tense argument.
He stumbled up the stairs, each step heavy with frustration, the door shuddering as he forcefully closed and locked it.
"Dammit Joe, open the damn door. If anyone is going to storm off from a conversation dramatically and slam doors, it will be me!" My voice echoed through the closed door, my irritation evident in every word.
I gave up, the sound of the TV being turned up made it known that not only was he not up to talking but he also wasn't up to listening.
Rolling my eyes, I turned to leave, until a small click and a creaking door stopped me in my tracks.
"What the hell is wrong with you? I watch you flirt with countless women all the time, and I never ever disrespect you the way you're disrespecting m—" Before I could finish, I was pressed against the wall, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as pain shot through me.
My right hand was now pinned above my head, trapped in his firm grip, while the other pressed against his chest in a pathetic attempt to halt the inevitable. His piercing brown eyes bore into mine with a magnetic passion, delving deep into the depths of my soul. With every breath, the air filled with tension, the weight of his gaze leaving me breathless and in an unshakable trance.
His fingers coiled around my neck, exerting a gentle pressure that almost sent me down to my knees. At this point, my body is quivering with need.
"Shh..just..just stop t-talking." He stuttered, a brief pause punctuating his struggle for composure, his head tilting back slightly as if seeking refuge from what was brewing within him. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips while a deep exhale escaped through flared nostrils, a telltale sign of his effort to remain composed. I could sense the temper trying to rise beneath the surface, almost as if there was an intense battle between his restraint and lust playing out internally.
"N-no," I stammered, my brain scattered, torn between wanting to submit to him and standing my ground. Every nerve in my body tingled, yet I couldn't allow myself to give in so easily. It drove me mad that he held such power over me, a power that I both craved and resented.
He shook his head, at my defiance, his eyes smoldering with a determination to put me in my place. With a swift motion, his hand seized the hem of my sundress, tugging it upwards until it pooled at my waist, granting him unrestricted access to the part of me that throbbed for his skilled fingers.
I quivered as his fingertips danced with featherlight caresses along the delicate fabric covering my heated core. My juices seeped through my panties and onto his fingers like a magnetic pull.
"I hope Jimmy didn't get you this wet," he teased, his voice coated with playful seduction as he continued to tease me through my panties. Succumbing to the touch of his fingers, I arched against the wall, a symphony of soft whimpers escaping my parted lips.
I felt Roman's smirk against my neck, the sensation sending goosebumps all over while his breath ghosted over my skin.
"Of course he did," I confessed with a coy smile, letting the thrill of our forbidden game wash over me, each whispered word feeding his anger.
He growled before tossing me onto the bed. I couldn't help but giggle as I propped myself up on my elbows, but he didn't seem to think anything was funny.
His gaze was intense, darker than usual, and his features contorted into a fierce expression that could've fucked me on its own. Perhaps I shouldn't have provoked him. Oops.
With his continued predatory glare, he closed the distance between us, his head descending between my parted thighs. In one swift motion, he tore my panties in half, discarding them without a second thought. And oh, the way he teased me, it was a delicious torture, each touch making me yearn for more.
His focus lingered on my outer lips, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing bites. While he occasionally delved deeper, penetrating me with his tongue, my clit throbbed with a need for more attention. Desperate for release, I grasped at the sheets, my hips arching in a silent plea for friction against my pearl.
"Joe, please, just eat me already," I moaned, the urgency in my voice didn't make him budge as I begged for him to satisfy the ache within me.
He chuckled softly against my pussy, relishing in the sound of my gasp before responding, his fingers sliding effortlessly into my slick heat, claiming me with ease. I melted into his touch completely, now under his possession as he exerted his dominance over me.
My breath hitched, becoming erratic as he pleasured me. With such a slowness, his fingers moved in and out of me, each stroke grazing my g spot. I could've sworn his fingers were in my stomach. His tongue, a welcome intrusion, teased my dripping folds as his fingers worked along my velvety walls.
"Tell me, baby. Tell me it's mine," he demanded his voice a deep baritone that sent intense vibrations coursing through my body. He looked up at me, his eyes smoldering as he snatched my soul.
"Oh, fuck, baby," I panted, my orgasm on the brink. This one was going to consume me entirely.
"It's all yours," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper.
He withdrew his fingers, leaving me momentarily bereft. But before I could voice my protest, he forcefully spread my legs wider, his tongue plunging deep inside me with a hunger that mirrored my own. It was as if he was determined to devour me, to claim every part of me from the inside out as his own.
My hands instinctively found his head, urging him deeper. My eyelids fluttered shut, my world narrowing to the sensation of his tongue swirling and thrusting within me, his lips capturing my clit with soft slurps and gentle kisses.
I unraveled in his embrace, my body shaking uncontrollably with the intensity of my release. The sheets were no match against the grip I had on them. He set every nerve ending ablaze with ecstasy as he continued drinking me up. He moaned against my pussy catching every single drop it had to offer. He loved the way I tasted.
Running my fingers through his hair, I struggled to catch my breath as I basked in the aftermath of my climax.
"That's right, my love. It's. All. Mine," he murmured between tender kisses..
Tell me, tell me baby It's all mine...
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Whew, he could be mad at me all he wants..
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginaswanmills @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx
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canthelpit0 · 18 hours
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Jealous girl
Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader
Wordcount: 5.1k +
Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.
Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader )if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected
(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)
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I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.
I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.
I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.
We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.
So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.
At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.
So I reluctantly agreed.
There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.
Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.
Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.
We don’t talk a lot though.
★ ★ ★
I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.
But I have homework and-
My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.
“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.
“Chris?” I ask back.
At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.
I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.
He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.
“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.
“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.
“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.
“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.
After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.
“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.
I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.
Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.
We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.
“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.
“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.
“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”
That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.
“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Yeah” he chirps back happily.
Oh so now they were snapping too?
He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.
Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.
I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.
The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.
The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.
“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.
“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.
I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.
“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.
I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.
“Chris, I have shit to do”
that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.
“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.
“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.
I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.
I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.
Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.
Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.
Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.
It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.
“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.
“I mean it.” He answers.
But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.
The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.
I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.
“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.
I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.
Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.
And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.
Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.
“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.
She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.
I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.
We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.
We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?
My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.
“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.
He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”
I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.
“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.
Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.
“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.
“Y/n” he huffs.
“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.
“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.
But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.
★ ★ ★
The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.
She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.
It was just the same old recycled bullshit.
He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?
That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.
I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.
“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.
This was our weekly complaining session.
“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.
“Eva?” I nod.
“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.
“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.
“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.
I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.
After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.
★ ★ ★
“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.
I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.
It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.
I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.
“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.
“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.
The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.
Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.
We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.
We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.
Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.
I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.
Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.
“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.
Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.
Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.
“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.
“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.
He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.
I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.
I put my overnight bag on his desk.
“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.
He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.
I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.
He crossed his arms staring back at me.
“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”
He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.
“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.
“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.
After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.
“Shit you’re right.”
Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.
I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.
“I know” I say simply.
“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.
Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.
“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.
I walk up to the side of his bed.
I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.
We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.
“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.
Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.
His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.
He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.
I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”
“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.
He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.
“We can do both” he assures.
I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.
He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”
Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.
Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.
I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.
“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.
I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.
He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.
I pull away admiring his neck.
I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.
“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.
His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.
It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.
“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.
I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.
I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.
The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.
“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.
He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”
I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.
“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.
He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.
I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.
His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.
I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.
He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.
I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.
My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.
Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.
I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.
“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.
He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.
My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.
He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.
“Please ride me ma.”
He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.
I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.
I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.
I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.
He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.
I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.
He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.
“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.
I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.
It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.
I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.
The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.
“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.
Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.
I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.
His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.
I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.
“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.
“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.
My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.
I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.
“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.
I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.
“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.
I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.
“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.
He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.
I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.
I film his face and his reactions now.
His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.
“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”
I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.
my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.
I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.
After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.
He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.
Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.
But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.
I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.
“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.
He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.
As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.
He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.
“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.
“I’m kind of busy right now”
But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”
Fucking pick me.
“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.
She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.
I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.
I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.
He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.
He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.
“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy
He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.
My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.
“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.
He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.
He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.
He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.
He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.
I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.
“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.
“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.
“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.
“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.
He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.
And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.
The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.
Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.
We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.
He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.
He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.
He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.
He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.
“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.
I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.
“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.
I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.
I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.
“Were you jealous?”
My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.
“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.
“I never liked her.”
“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.
I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.
“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.
I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.
“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile
“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.
“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.
“Why would I be jealous?” You huff, replying sarcastically.
“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at you victoriously. He lays down next to you staring into your eyes.
Masterlist
A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf
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moonlightperseus · 2 days
Text
breathe in the feeling
ambiguously set after the first half of s7 | 867 words
Being in love with Buck wasn’t an option.
It can’t be an option.
Because if it was, Eddie might do something stupid, like kiss his best friend.
Which is—not an option.
Eddie’s done that song and dance before, and that ended badly—leaving and being left, divorce papers, blood on hot asphalt.
But the thing is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been over a month since Buck came out to him, and Eddie can’t stop thinking about how Buck is an option now.
Which isn’t even entirely true, because Buck is with Tommy—Buck is happy with Tommy—and Eddie feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself.
He broke up with Marisol last week, something that up until this moment, he hadn’t told anyone, not even Christopher—which he knows he can only avoid for so long.
He’s not even sure why he’s telling Bobby, because now Bobby is staring at him quizzically and Eddie is feeling closer to a panic attack than he’s been in a long time.
“You broke up with Marisol,” Bobby repeats back to him, because he’s been waiting for Eddie to continue and Eddie has made a point out of staring at his hands and not saying anything as his brain spirals. “Do you want to talk about that?”
“No,” Eddie says, because he really doesn’t—but he sucks in a sharp breath and rips the band-aid off anyways, “I think I might be in love with Buck.”
Bobby doesn’t say anything for what feels like an eternity.
Eddie finally gives in and looks at him, Bobby’s face is a carefully crafted blank expression—he’s processing the information Eddie has given him, but he’s not going to give any reaction in the meantime.
Eddie resists dropping his head against the table and instead settles for staring at the dormant alarm bell on the wall and hoping for it to start ringing to save him from this situation.
“I see,” Bobby says finally, “that’s… that must be a lot for you to process.”
“Understatement of the century,” Eddie mumbles, allowing himself to drop his head into his hands—it’s not quite as satisfying as the thunk of his forehead against the table would be.
“So how long have you been… processing this?”
“I don’t know, a couple weeks, maybe—” —my whole life, possibly, he doesn’t say.
A hand lands on his shoulder, the touch is gentle and grounding, and Eddie is reminded of why he went to Bobby in the first place.
“Eddie,” Bobby says carefully, “there’s nothing wrong with it—being in love with Buck. If that is how you feel, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Eddie exhales slowly, because that’s the whole thing, isn’t it? “I know that—logically, I know that. I’ve never had a problem with—I guess it’s different, when it’s yourself. But it’s not like it’s even—I mean, Buck’s with Tommy—Buck’s happy with Tommy—and Tommy’s my friend too, so it is kind of wrong, in a way.” 
“Buck being in a relationship with someone else doesn’t make your feelings for him invalid—or wrong. Sure, maybe it’s a little complicated since you consider them both friends. But whatever you’re feeling—you’re allowed to feel it.” 
“But what am I supposed to do with it?” Eddie finally meets Bobby’s gaze, “I mean—I feel like I’m lying to Buck, somehow, by feeling this way—by not saying anything.”
“Maybe you don’t have to do anything with it, at least—not right away,” Bobby squeezes his shoulder before removing his hand, “maybe right now you just let yourself feel it. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be honest with Buck, but I think maybe you should start by allowing yourself to be honest with you.” 
Eddie stares at Bobby, completely and painfully aware of his own heart beating in his chest, it’s not a panic attack, but he knows it’s a warning sign. 
He takes a moment to breathe slowly, the way Frank taught him. Bobby says nothing, waiting patiently 
“I don’t know what that looks like.” Eddie says honestly. 
Bobby offers him a kind smile, “That’s okay, you don’t have to have it all figured out, but maybe allow yourself the time to really think about it?”
“What if I lose him?” The words spill out of him unbidden. 
“Eddie, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you and Buck have a way of finding each other, no matter the circumstance, the two of you will always fight to find each other again.” 
Eddie blinks, and for a moment, all he sees is Buck, covered in Eddie’s own blood, begging for him to hold on. 
He blinks again, and the memory fades, and it’s just Bobby sitting there in front of him, watching him carefully.
“Let yourself feel it, Eddie,” Bobby says gently, “and when you’re ready—talk to Buck.”
The bell rings then, because timing never seems to be on Eddie’s side. 
Bobby sighs softly, “well, duty calls.”
Bobby stands to head towards the engine bay, but before Eddie can do the same, Bobby rests a hand on his shoulder again, “I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”
He lets the words settle over him for a moment—breathing slowly in and out—and then follows after his Captain. 
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serasfanfiction · 3 days
Text
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13
CW: Blood. Less a content warning and more a note: Lucifer is one very depressed cookie and it shows.
oOo
Lucifer closed the portal behind them after making certain Alastor was clear. It had been a bit melodramatic, leaving by portal, he knew. He simply couldn't imagine attempting to leave any other way and risk screwing up the impression he'd just made.
He could be serious. He could do the whole scary bit. He just didn't like to do it for long.
He released Alastor's hand, tucking both his demons and angelic features alike away until he was his normal, unassuming self. Away from the studio and everyone's prying eyes, with the broadcast finally done and over, he felt like he could relax and breathe again.
Speaking of the redhead, Lucifer figured there was some unfinished business to take care of between them. Not to mention, he really did want to check in with him after that little power stunt. He was just thinking of doing so, when he felt a presence at his back.
Reflexes already on high alert from the stress of the studio, Lucifer spun around. He had enough time to recognize a red and white pinstriped coat, before he was being crowded backwards, red tipped claws going for his throat. It was only because he registered it was only Alastor-
('Only Alastor,' a slightly hysterical part of his brain jitters. When did he become so used to Alastor at his back that he stopped seeing as a threat?)
-that he didn't protest beyond an annoyed and startled, "Alastor, what are you doing??"
Alastor didn't answer, intent on his task, which seemed to be ridding his king of his bowtie. He snarled as the back of the Lucifer's knees hit the bed, sending him careening backwards. The redhead followed him down, hands abandoning their task to catch himself before he landed on top of the blonde.
For a moment, they froze, both panting. Lucifer stared up at Alastor from where he lay on his back, legs dangling over the side of the bed. Alastor stared down at him, black drool dripping down his chin, that quick witted mind near lost to his bloodlust.
Lucifer swallowed, the gulp loud in the silence of the room. Red, glowing eyes followed the movement, teeth elongating ever so slightly. His form had grown as his antlers extended as his Wendigo side threatened to take full control.
"Alastor, come back." Lucifer didn't dare move, not wanting to set him off. "You'll have your feast, but you need to come back first."
Alastor's responding growl was more canine than his form should allow. His claws dug into the bedsheets, the poor silk shredding under their sharp tips. Lucifer watched as he fought a battle with his hunger. The glow dimmed and brightened as his human mind struggled for control.
Lucifer could see the moment the balance tipped. Form mostly returned to normal, Alastor lowered himself until he could bury his face in the fallen angel's hair. "Transform." His voice sounded like he'd swallowed gravel, filter struggling to interpret the sound.
Slowly, Lucifer raised a hand, not touching, but held out in the universal sign for 'stop.' "Wait."
Alastor didn't take the response well. Sharp fangs grazed Lucifer's chin as the Radio Demon hissed, "You can't deny me."
Actually, Lucifer could. He still had quite a bit of his 12 hours left. He could leave right then and there and there was little Alastor could do to stop him. Perhaps he should have left right then, but there was no telling if delaying would allow the radio host time to calm down or if he'd lose more control as his hunger rose up again to swallow him.
"I'm not trying to." Unable to tell if the redhead could even see it from where he'd buried his face in the blonde's neck, Lucifer pointed up towards the head of the bed. "I just thought it would be more comfortable if I was propped up and you didn't have your face buried in the sheets."
Alastor's ears flattened. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. At least he seemed more stable now that he was convinced he wasn't being denied his feast.
With aching slowness, inch by inch, Alastor pulled away. When Lucifer could see his face again, only the charming facade of the Hazbin Hotel's hotelier peered back at him. Lucifer hadn't realized how tense he himself was until he was met with the familiar sight. He still hesitated to move, unsure of sinner's control.
Seeing his hesitation, Alastor's smiled down at him with that lazy grin of his. "Ah, that must have been unsightly. Please, let's relocate ourselves. It's always better to dine in comfort."
Lucifer's eye twitched. 'Dine in comfort.' One of them would be dinning in comfort, he supposed.
Lucifer slithered out from beneath the cage of Alastor's limbs. Usually, when someone joined him in his bed, he might have made a show of crossing it. Sometimes, it was a tease meant to excite. Sometimes, it was just being silly or just having fun. This was hardly the first time someone who wasn't a lover had joined him. Lilith had been his only sexual partner, his temptation of Eve aside, but he had shared a bed with friends and family throughout his life. Angels, fallen or not, were social creatures. It hadn't been uncommon for Lucifer and his brothers and sisters to indulge in cuddle fests that resulted in a giggling pile of limbs and wings. After their fall, Lucifer and some of the other deadly sins had retained some degree of need for physical contact, although they all had wildly different ways of meeting that need.
Since there was no one interested in any sort of play here, Lucifer merely scooted back towards the pillows, Alastor following his progress with a hunter's keen eye. He couldn't decide how he felt about the fact that the first person to join in his bed post divorcing his one and only marital partner was someone like the Radio Demon. This would even be the first time the blonde had invited a sinner into his bed. He nearly laughed at himself that, of course, it would be under the circumstance that said sinner was only here to feast upon his blood. He stopped when his back hit a pillow, already reaching to finish divesting himself of his bow tie. It had survived the redhead's attempt to rip it apart by virtue of being something Lucifer's magic had created. It went over the side of the bed with careless abandon, his vest following shortly after.
As he reached his shirt, he found himself pausing several buttons down. He had already bared all to this sinner once before. His pride certainly didn't leave him with anything to worry about - he knew how attractive he was. For some reason, though, the mere thought of getting any more undressed than an unbuttoned top was suddenly too much. Perhaps it was because of the encounter with Valentino, the sinner's slimy touch still burned into his skin. Perhaps it was because of how overwhelming everyone's attention at the studio had been. Whatever it was, he was hit with a feeling of being too overexposed to bare all, even if it was only from the waist up.
Alastor's eyebrow rose when he failed to remove his shirt, opting to only leave it unbuttoned. Lucifer was willing to deal with cleaning up the inevitable mess that was to come, as long as he could retain some of his modesty. The redhead was immediately distracted by the appearance of those blonde ears that heralded the beginning of Lucifer's transformation. An equally blonde, fluffy tail was hidden behind him, wedged under the bottom of the pillow behind him. Lucifer was likely going to have to rescue it shortly, but for the moment, he let it be.
He pulled the collar of his shirt until it fell off his shoulder. His throat bared and his grin sly, he croaked a finger in a 'come hither.' "Come and take your reward, sinner."
The size of the bed and his position near the center of the headboard forced Alastor to come to him on hands and knees. Despite this, there was no worship in his gaze nor a subservient bone in this sinner's body. Alastor approached him with the grace of a dancer tempered with the deadly intent of a predator. As he drew near, the blond spread his legs, inviting the redhead closer. Unlike the last time they were both in this bed in a similar position, Alastor showed none of that disgust, although he did stop to situate himself so that there was no physical contact anywhere below the waist.
Reserves about contact below the waist did not seem to apply to above it. The instant he was near enough to do so, Alastor's nose was back in his hair, expertly avoiding his antlers. Lucifer could change his shape to match any of Earth's creatures, both real and imaginary, but the change was only cosmetic. He took on none of their behaviors. Was influenced by none of their instincts. How messy it must be to have such foreign habits thrust upon someone.
Lucifer was so distracted by his contemplation of the inner workings of this sinner he'd found himself so entangled with, he'd stopped paying attention to to what the redhead was actually doing. This was his only explanation for why he was so caught off guard when something sharp pressed against his throat, demanding in its threat, but not so much so it broke the surface of his skin.
Something that wasn't Alastor's teeth, as evidenced by the sinner pulling back and the sensation remaining.
The gleam in Alastor's eyes, pupils aglow made him more wary than any potential threat of the weapon. He glanced down, the hilt of the blade - a dagger - just visible from that angle. His eyes darkened as he recognized it.
It was that angelic steel blade the wolf demon had attacked him with. The same one he'd utterly forgotten right up until just then.
Clearly someone had found it and squirreled it away for potential future use. Had he already been planning some use for it, even as they negotiated their first contract? Lucifer glared up at Alastor, finding the sinner's face completely shrouded in darkness, save the glow of his red eyes and his yellow teeth, bared in a riotous grin.
It was utterly unhinged.
Someone else's memory rose up, super imposing itself over reality. For a moment, it wasn't Alastor, the Radio Demon leaning over him. Instead, a man in his thirties, brunette and dark skinned, crouched over him, smile stretched as wide as humanly possible across his face, brown eyes illuminated with the reflection of a street lamp.
It had been the last sight many of Alastor's victims had seen before he silenced them forever.
Alastor cocked his head to the side, the image dissipating like the morning fog. He raised the hand not holding a dagger to his king's throat up to cup Lucifer's cheek. His thumb pressed down into the fragile skin under the blonde's eye, rubbing across the length of it, as his expression smoothed into that fond one he'd taken to wearing most of the last hour or two.
Lucifer wondered if Alastor was aware that he had Seen him - the same way he'd Seen the wolf who'd attacked the hotel, had Seen Valentino. Had Seen him; knew all of his victim's names and their last moments. Knew of the crooked moral code Alastor had lived by, one that might have been seen as righteous, had the man not enjoyed the kill a little too much.
Perhaps that fondness was because the Devil himself had gazed upon this sinner and all of his sins and had still chosen to lay down and bare his neck to him like a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.
Alastor shifted his leg to better brace himself. He studied the position of the dagger with the critical eye of a seasoned killer. The dagger rose up, first a centimeter, then another half centimeter. He held it in place, satisfied with its position and leaving no question in how this was going to go. There was nothing particularly kind in his face as he crooned sweetly, "I wouldn't recommend moving now, sire." He tightened his grip on the side of Lucifer's head. "I'd hate to cause unintentional damage."
And with that, Alastor slit Lucifer's throat.
The resulting wound was a testament to the Radio Demon's skill, practiced in life and honed in death. It was as damaging as it needed to be: deep enough to slice right through the carotid artery, causing hot, golden blood to spill forth in a rush. Alastor darted forward, latching his mouth over the open wound and sucked.
It hurt. Lucifer hadn't thought the dagger would hurt worse than when Alastor had used his teeth, but it did. Intellectually, he appreciated the cut would last longer with the dagger than with Alastor's teeth. Intellectually be damned, though, because physically it burned like the dickens with every pull at the wound.
Alastor hadn't restricted his ability to fight back. On reflex, he darted a hand up, going for those sensitive ears. Alastor, feeling the muscle move beneath his mouth, dropped the dagger in favor of catching his wrist effortlessly. He slammed it down against the sheets, leaning his weight on it to pin it down.
He wasn't fast enough to capture Lucifer's other wrist, the fallen angel having gone lower to reach for the sinner's ribs. Lucifer's claws sharpened, sharper blades than even angel steel, cutting through cloth and flesh as easy as a hot knife through butter. He only stopped when the skin between two of his fingers hit bone. Immediately, the wet feeling of blood began to seep into the fabric and then onto his hand.
The redhead showed his displeasure by digging his teeth into the flesh around the cut, spilling even more blood in the process.
Lucifer writhed, unable to escape as long as Alastor continued to swallow down his blood. He hissed, managing to growl out, "Alastor, that... hurts."
Static screeched through the air. Alastor didn't remove his teeth, but he didn't drive them in deeper. Uncaring that he was causing more damage, he reached down and around, before yanking the blonde's claws from his side. Lucifer felt, more than saw, the blood spill from the wound and hitting his side, where the fluids immediately began to soak into both his shirt and the sheets, adding to the mess they were making of each other and his bed.
Lucifer panted, casting around for something to distract himself from the pain in his neck and the disturbing sound of Alastor gulping down his blood, abnormally loud in the otherwise silence of the room. There was little to focus on, save the feel of the silk sheets, his painfully trapped tail, and the feel of blood (his own and Alastor's) in varying stages of cooling and coagulation in the sheets around him.
The steady feel of dripping against his side managed to penetrate the haze of pain. He couldn't see it properly, but judging from the growing blood stain on his shirt, he concluded he'd done some damage himself. He had half a mind to leave it, a warning not to use the dagger in the future. His blood was more than adequate to heal the damage in no time.
Healing a wound required a great deal of concentration and he latched onto the thought as a welcome distraction. Told himself that was the only reason he was doing it. It certainly wasn't an apology, as he was of the opinion that Alastor had more than deserved it. Tearing his gaze away from the ears he wanted nothing more than to dig his claws into, his twisted his wrist in an attempt to free it. When Alastor refused him his freedom, Lucifer warned, "Let go." A little gentler, he assured, "I'm not going to hurt you again."
More static spilled out of the redhead. Lucifer thought he'd have to go back on his word and potentially hurt him to free himself, had half a mind to just let the stubborn asshole suffer, but eventually Alastor relinquished his hold. He full-bodied flinched as Lucifer pressed his hand over the wound, his growl a warning.
Lucifer ignored it, closing his eyes to focus on the damaged cells. He'd nicked the lowest two bones of Alastor's rib cage when he'd driven his claws in, but hadn't chipped them. He decided to focus on them last, instead coaxing the copious amounts of spilled blood lingering around the wound to coagulate and help seal up any severed blood vessels and torn flesh. Next, he began the process of speeding up the formation of collagen and fresh tissue until the wound looked like it was several weeks old, rather than a few minutes. Repair of the bone came next, smoothing away any marks he'd left behind until all signs of the wound were gone.
In response, Alastor withdrew his teeth, allowing the skin to finally begin to heal itself. Lucifer doubted he'd receive an apology any more than he felt like giving one himself.
As a last touch, Lucifer wiped away the tares to the pin stripped coat under his fingers with a simple swipe of his thumb. Finished with the task, he simply ran his thumb along the material, focusing on the texture. It was good quality, rougher than it was than anything he, himself, owned. If he remembered, he might ask Alastor about his tailor.
The sinner arched his back, leaning away from his hand. A signal he was at his limit on any unwanted physical touch. It was fine, in Lucifer's book, as his arm was beginning to feel heavy.
All of his limbs were beginning to feel heavy. His body sending him their own signal that it was at its own limit.
There was nothing Alastor could do to kill him. This was beyond the sinner's power. He could drain every drop of blood from this corrupt shell, tear it limp from limb, and consume as much flesh as he could stomach. Lucifer would live.
Immortal and durable as this body was, it had its limits. Rare as it was, unfelt in thousands of years, if Lucifer pushed too hard, withstood too much damage, out of self preservation, his body would simply shut down to conserve energy and focus on repairing the damage. It had been quite a while since he had done anything to feel this, but the feeling was still too tied to traumatic memories to ever forget.
He let his head lean back to rest against the headboard. Alastor's frantic feasting had diminished from that of a man starved to one who was savoring every last mouth full of a meal before admitting he was too stuffed to continue. The wound throbbed in time with his slowing heart, but Lucifer was already growing used to it.
Lucifer was unsure if he was going to have the strength to pretend he was unaffected enough to spar with a recovered Radio Demon. He could already feel the urge to give into his body's demands, to fall asleep right there and then and sleep until he was recovered enough to be conscious again. Normally, he wouldn't care about the wolf he had willingly invited into his room and into his bed, he had already proven which of the two of them was more powerful.
But this wouldn't be a normal sleep. Alastor might not have registered as foe anymore, but he was still capable of doing anything. There was no telling where or in what condition Lucifer would wake up in.
A weight dropped down on him, jolting him back into alertness. He hadn't realized he had closed his eyes until they snapped open. He came aware to find himself pinned rather effectively to the bed. He turned his head to the side, almost getting a face full of black tipped hair in the process. He blamed his addled brain for how long it took him to realize what had happened. In his defense, it wasn't something he ever thought would happen.
Alastor was laying on top of him. With Lucifer's reclined position and the bend in the sinner's back, he didn't think it was very comfortable.
What?
The redhead quite expertly causing his brain to malfunction tensed. The blond thought it might be because of all the physical contact they were currently sharing. Alastor put that thought on the back burner when he propped himself up, up until they were nearly nose to nose, and gave him a look.
Lucifer blinked up at him, baffled. Alastor was studying him like he was suddenly the most curious creature he had ever encountered and Lucifer had no clue what he'd down to warrant it.
Taking advantage of his lack of energy and utter bafflement, Alastor proceeded to take it upon himself to manhandle the blonde until they were both at a more reclined angle. Seemingly happy with their new position, the sinner resumed his previous spot.
Right on top of Lucifer.
Lucifer wanted to protest, a little voice in his mind quite vocal over the sinner's audacity. Protesting would have required he muster up enough energy to try and make sense of how the hell they had somehow gone from Alastor not wanting to touch him to... well. This.
Whatever this was.
He blinked at the ceiling, something he had done numerous times since moving in. It held no more answers to his questions than it ever did. Dredging up enough magic from the bottom of the wellspring that was the source of his power, he cleaned up the blood. Butterfly stitches, covered by a bandage appeared around his neck. By the time it needed to be changed it, he wouldn't need it anymore.
Pressed up against him chest to sternum, Lucifer couldn't help but notice that Alastor was all long limbs and lithe muscle. The sinner's weight was usually negligible, the fallen angel more than capable of tossing him around. Now, it felt like it could actually hold him here in this place that should be safe (but wasn't). The heat of his body seeped into Lucifer's where they were pressed together, coaxing his muscles to give up the last of their tension.
It eased something in his core, a longing for physical contact with another person he'd desperately wished for since Lilith last shared their bed. It was… almost nice. Almost nice enough he could forget all of the steps that had lead them to this moment.
Alastor's breathing had deepened. He wasn't asleep, but he seemed close. Perhaps expending as much energy as he had, like working a new muscle for the first time, followed by a hearty meal was threatening to send the redhead into his own coma.
It didn't explain what was going on here.
"What are you doing?"
The end of the question was muffled by the hand Alastor had placed over Lucifer's mouth. Lucifer didn't have the energy to glare at it.
"Sleep, sire." Alastor's voice had deepened, his filter all but gone. His hand fell away to lay beside the blonde's cheek on the pillow. He turned his head to bury his nose in Lucifer's hair. "Everything else can wait until later."
Lucifer still didn't know if this place was any safer now than it had been at the start of his worries, but he found that he was willing to find out. Closing his eyes, he let slumber take him.
The pinging of his phone roused him. Lucifer shifted, the sluggishness of his limbs coming from a deep slumber rather than an intrinsic need to recover. He was warm, warmer than he had been when he'd fallen asleep.
He knew even before he opened his eyes that Alastor was gone.
He noted the warmth he'd felt came from having been tucked under the covers. He didn't remember the redhead getting up. Didn't remember being moved and placed under the covers. He almost snorted at the fact that although Alastor had decided to pull the covers over him, he'd tucked him in, clothes and boots and all. He'd know that ceiling anywhere, so he was still in his room. A glance at his clock told him that he had been passed out for six hours.
Not the longest time he'd taken to recover. Not the shortest, but not the longest. He must have been more stressed than he gave himself credit.
He pushed himself up on to his elbows, getting a better look around the room. There was no one else in the room. No sounds came from his personal bathroom, the door open and the light off.
Grief tightened the muscles in his chest, the feeling almost immediately washed away by a tidal wave of self loathing and anger. There had been no reason to believe there would be anyone there when he woke up. He had lost the right to the company of his brothers and sisters when he rebelled against Heaven. Lost his fellow sins when he turned his back on his kingdom and withdrew from everyone except his wife and daughter. Lilith had left decades before she finally walked out the door with Charlie, likely finally reaching her limit with him.
And Alastor? All Alastor wanted from him was access to his blood and some unknown favor at some point in the future. Who know what that guy was thinking, let alone why he had deemed Lucifer a decent pillow to sleep on. For all Lucifer knew, he had imagined the whole thing and had passed out prior to Alastor dropping on him.
He fell back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. The only person that still wanted anything to do with him for him was Charlie. It sucked, but he had done it to himself. He simply had to live with it.
He let himself wallow in his self pity for several more minutes, before the pinging of his phone told him he really needed to get up and deal with whoever was trying to get his attention. He slide one hand down to touch the side of his neck, the bandage proof that he hadn't imagined the entire afternoon. He let it ground him and remind him of his obligations.
He went first to his bathroom. Turning on the light forced him to reckon with the mess that was his appearance. Yellow strands of hair was all in a wild disarray and the bruising under his eyes more pronounced than usual. Splashing water in his face helped with some of the puffiness, while finger combing his hair brought the mess somewhat under control. He would mostly have to contend with appearing tired, something he thought fair since it was coming up on evening.
He turned his inspection to Alastor's parting gift. Pulling away the bandages, he silently cursed the redhead as he noted it would be too high to hide with his normal attire. His choices were either wear something with a higher neckline or advertise to the entirety of the hotel what he had allowed Alastor to talk him into.
A snap of his fingers conjured a cashmere roll neck in the same shade of pink as his favorite vest. It wasn't his preferred level of dress and he had to placate himself with the reminder that it would only be for a few days. He nodded his head, his reflection mirroring the action back at him. It would have to do.
Lucifer navigated his way back to his bedside dresser, stepping over a few errant ducks that had wandered away from their various piles. His phone had been silent the entire time he was freshening up, which could mean anything. He picked it up, tapping the screen and lighting up the lock screen. Various notifications light up the area below the lock screen clock. Most were spam: a warning about the prediction of acid ran in a few hours or some event Bee was holding that upcoming weekend. He noted the bundle of text messages, one from Charlie at the top of the pile.
He unlocked the phone, pulling up his daughter's text first. The message was a simple request to let her know when he had returned.
He sent her a quick reply, letting her know that he had returned safely, but had accidentally taken a unexpected nap following his return. He didn't have to wait long before she answered back, saying she was glad he was okay. Another message followed, asking if he would be joining them for dinner.
He placed her answer on hold, opting to check on the other messages he had received first. By coincidence, her text message and several from one of his live-servants had arrived, one right after the other, giving the illusion that he was receiving a storm of text messages.
Abiwell was the unlucky imp that had the misfortune of sorting out any correspondence that arrived for the royal family. High was the mountain that was usually for Lilith, everyone wishing for the Queen to grace them with her presence. However, no protocol had been put in place for what to do with her correspondence should she ever leave. So abrupt had been her disappearance, an overwhelmed Lucifer had refused to deal with the issue. With no idea if she would ever return, looking more unlikely the longer she was gone, many of them had simply been placed in her office to wait for her potential return.
Rarely, becoming more so with each passing year, were things that needed Lucifer's attention. Many of his few remaining correspondents had cottoned on that the best way to reach him was via his cellphone. When he'd gone into near total isolation over the last seven years, it had been the only way to reach him. As such, any remaining letters addressed to him had evaporated.
Or so it had seemed.
Innocently sitting in a text, attached as a picture file, was a royal invitation. And not just any invitation, oh no, it was one from one of the ruling families of the Ars Goetia, which meant he really couldn't ignore it. He tapped the image file, enlarging it until he could read the inscription.
His Royal Highness, Stolas, Grand Prince of the Ars Goetia, and Stella, Princess of the Ars Goetia, request the pleasure of the company of Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar at the Coming of Age Ceremony of their daughter Her Royal Highness, Octavia, Heiress of the Ars Goetia on--
Lucifer's first instinct, born of almost a millennium of doing so and not to be undone by a mere seven years, was to forward the message to Lilith. With a sickening lurch, he remembered for what felt like the first time all over again, that that option wasn't an option at all. One, because everything he'd sent her over the last seven years had received a 'message not sent' response and two, because she had left and no one knew where she was. No longer seeing the invitation, Lucifer's grip tightened, the cellphone giving a plasticky sounding creak in protest.
This was one of the ranking members of the royal families of Hell. Hellborn, yes, but still royalty. Each of the Sins, or someone representing them, were expected to show up or it would be viewed as a sever slight. Lilith, his queen and representative, could no longer attend.
Which meant that he would be expected to attend or risk offending one of the higher ranking families of the Ars Goetia.
For one (weak, so very weak) moment, he considered handing the invitation over to Charlie. He was already justifying it to himself - she had to start attending these events some day - before he stopped himself.
No. No, he couldn't send Charlie. The last time he'd (had a bad day) sent Charlie in his place, Heaven had decided to throw a temper tantrum over the fact that a sinner had discovered one of their dirty little secrets.
The phone slid out of nerveless fingers, the little thump as it hit the bed overshadowed by the larger thump of his knees hitting the floor. He covered his mouth, stifling the bitter, hollow laugh rattling around in his lungs. It had been one thing to show his face to the sinners of Pentagram City. He didn't care about their opinions, not really.
Going in front of his fellow peers, the other Sins, was an entirely different animal. The other Sins, his fallen brothers and sisters, were all that remained of his ties to his Heavenly family. They had teased and supported him when he courted and won Lilith's favor. Stood by him when he'd stirred unrest in Heaven. They were the only ones that hadn't turned their backs on him when he fucked up and released the Root of All Evil, giving her a foot hold in Humanity.
And yet, that was what he had done to them. He'd turned his back on them, on everyone, the deeper he'd fallen into the blackhole that was his depression. How could he face them after leaving all of Hell to rot? For driving Lilith away?
It filtered through his thoughts, the realization that he couldn't breathe. His throat felt too tight as his diaphragm felt like it suddenly didn't remember how to work. Trying to focus on his breathing, trying to manually draw in air, seemed to only be making things worse, the blood rushing in his ears as it became too oxygenated--
"Sire?"
Alastor.
Lucifer froze, heart seizing in his chest.
Alastor's footsteps drew near as he came around the bed, stopping at the end as he spotted him.
Their gazes locked, Lucifer's panic rising with each passing heart beat. If he had been any less panicked, he might have remembered that he could have easily opened a portal and fled to the palace. He could have just as easily opened a portal directly under Alastor's feet, sending the sinner on a one way ticket to the floor below them. He was a creature capable of flight and there was a perfectly functional window just off to his right. If for some reason the window wasn't working, see previous portal making ability.
All rationale had gone up in smoke, however, as the memory of Alastor's (Lilith's) words drove all thoughts from his head.
How pathetic.
He watched as Alastor's shoes (when had he dropped his gaze?) came closer. He couldn't bear to see what expression the sinner had on his face, this human whose opinion he swore he didn't care about but apparently still did. He frowned when Alastor came within arm's reach, and then folded himself gracefully down into a crouch in front of him.
The sinner reached out a hand, getting as far as brushing the skin of his hand before the fallen angel flinched, curling in on himself as if he was the one that abhorred touch.
"Sire?" There was no sound of mocking in that voice. Alastor sounded like he was trying to coax out a wild animal that had taken refuge under his porch and then found itself too terrified to leave.
It only made Lucifer want to draw up his knees and hunch his shoulders in. He couldn't understand why Alastor wasn't making some cutting remark about his lack of control. He certainly hadn't held back before.
Confused and unable to articulate the root of his issue, he went with, "But… you hate people touching you."
Alastor huffed. Lucifer finally mustered the courage to glance at his face. His smile was ever present - the blonde was fairly certain the redhead couldn't not smile - but it was closed and smaller than normal. Alastor had no use for kindness, but he did know how to be gentle when necessary. It was the only word - "gentle" - Lucifer could think to explain the expression on his face in that moment.
"You're quite right, your Majesty. I strongly dislike people touching me," Alastor affirmed. When he reached for Lucifer's hand again, the blonde didn't resist out of confusion. "I do find it somewhat tolerable if that touch is happening under my terms."
Lucifer couldn't draw the air in to ask, what are you doing? The question must have shown on his face anyway.
Alastor drew Lucifer's hand in to rest the latter's palm upon the former's chest. Taking a breathe in, the redhead said, "Breathe with me, sire. Deep breathe in, followed by a slow breathe out." He demonstrated the appropriate breathe in through the nose, followed by a longer breathe out through the mouth. Repeated it until Lucifer started to mimic him.
Lucifer's focus narrowed down until all he could feel was the rise and fall of the chest beneath his palm. Until all he could see was that ever present mask of a smile on Alastor's face, the sinner's own coping mechanism with the world. He forced the relaxation of the muscles in his chest and abdomen, trusting his lungs and diaphragm knew what they were doing, careful not to focus too much on the act of breathing itself. To focus on that would be to start the cycle all over again.
He slumped against the side of the bed, feeling shaky and twitchy. His breathing was back under control, but he felt like one wrong thought might send him back over the edge.
Seeing the crisis was temporarily abated, Alastor coaxed and manhandled him up onto the bed. The offending cellphone, with its oh so innocuous message, was deposited on the bedside table, lest it get lost in the bedsheets. A little more maneuvering around and the sinner had his king bundled up in the comforter, Lucifer's head the only visible thing about him.
Lucifer was too blank to do anything other than stare as Alastor took a seat beside him, pulling him up against the redhead's side. He couldn't feel anything through the comforter (which was perhaps the point), but he could feel the sharp tips of claws running lightly across his skull, could feel the whisper of an exhale as it moved several strands of hair.
This show of comfort felt like a ruse, another part of this game that Alastor was playing with him. He knew what the sinner was doing, could see the jaws of the trap closing in around him. When had the game changed from driving him away to pulling him in? What would Alastor do if Lucifer allowed himself to become ensnared, as Alastor was so unwittingly becoming ensnared himself?
No, he would not let himself fall into that trap, not this day. But he would allow himself to accept this comfort, shallow and full of barbs as it was.
They sat there for some undetermined amount of time, Lucifer content to let the warmth of his cocoon seep into his limbs and ease his shivering. It was inevitable that one of them would break the silence, he was merely surprised the sinner was patient enough he lasted as long as he did.
"Will you tell me what troubles you, your Majesty?"
What didn't trouble him? He eyed the deer demon out of the corner of his eye, wondering what he planned to do with this ammunition, should Lucifer choose to confide in him.
Knowing it was no secret he had avoided any social gathering he could get out of, he offered, "Octavia is coming of age. Stolas and Stella are holding a coming of age ceremony for her."
Alastor fell silent, pondering. For clarification, he asked, "The Ars Goetia?"
The noise Lucifer made was somewhere between a snort and a hum, unsurprised that Alastor was up to date even in this area. "Of course you know who they are."
Alastor pulled away, laughing. "I couldn't very well climb the corporate ladder of Pentagram City if I didn't know all of the players in the game." His nails came perilously close to one of the yellow-white ears Lucifer had yet to send away. "They may not play with sinners, but we do all share real estate."
Sinners and Hellborn sharing space in a single ring was always going to be a powder keg waiting to ignite. Where once upon a time, both parties numbers had been so low it had been easy to avoid each other, now humanity's numbers were booming far faster than Hell's native species could keep up.
Alastor's hand came to rest on Lucifer's shoulder, the weight barely noticeable through the thick comforter. There was a thoughtful look on his face as he mused, "I'm a little surprised they're cooperating enough to hold the ceremony. All the latest gossip says she's trying to kill him." He gave Lucifer an amused smile, the edges tinted with mockery. "Ah, the hilarious things you royals do to keep up appearances."
Lucifer nearly snorted, bitterness lapping at the edges of his numbness like the incoming tide. Power was a game of chess, where all the players made small talk and played nice, while everyone was secretly plotting behind everyone else's backs. When marriage was done for politics and status, not for love, it was bound to cause some tension.
He stared straight ahead, refusing to look at his phone. "The Sins - or a stand in - will be expected to go."
Alastor caught on quick. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde, something malicious just beneath the surface of his smile. "Why not send Charlie, then? Has she not represented you in the past?"
Irritation warred with guilt, almost enough to break free. Lucifer bared his teeth in a half hearted snarl, more for show then actually meaning it. The heat in his voice was just as half hearted as he answered, just as honest, "I'm not going to ask her to fight my battles again."
It was unlikely that anything of the magnitude of Heaven upping the extermination of Hell's population of sinners would happen at a coming of age ceremony, but Charlie had had enough bad luck for one year. Why test it some more?
He let the expression drop, pulling the covers tighter around his shoulders. "Besides, it's just a social gathering," he said, as if it hadn't just triggered the beginnings of a panic attack less than ten minutes prior. "I can do a social gathering."
He didn't know who he was trying to fool with that statement, but it certainly wasn't Alastor, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.
Oh, who was he kidding? He so couldn't do a social gathering.
Alastor eyed him, considering. "Would it help if someone went with you?"
Lucifer chewed on the idea. "Who would I even ask?" He hadn't gone to a social gathering by himself in hundreds of years. Usually, either Lilith or Lilith and Charlie had gone with him, whether it was the some milestone for the latest heir or a children's play date. He couldn't ask Lilith to go with him for obvious reasons and asking Charlie would feel too much like he was asking her to act as his crutch, something that wouldn't be fair to her. With them not being an option, that kind of left him empty handed. "Nope, can't think of anyone."
"Didn't I tell you, sire?" Something dark and sweet lurked in Alastor's expression as the dealmaker ran his fingers up Lucifer's neck, settling on cupping his jaw. His head was forced to turn until they face to face, Alastor's smile like honey meant to draw the unsuspecting in. "You still have me."
An echo, a whisper, I'll be with you the whole time.
Lucifer was too stunned to react. Their deal was all but done. Alastor had done his part. The only thing left to do was for the sinner to call in his mysterious favor and it would be done. Why would he sign up for a night of babysitting a twitchy fallen angel? Nervously, he laughed. "Funny, I thought you were serious there for a moment."
Alastor drew closer until their noses almost touched. His brow twitched. "I'm quite serious."
Lucifer leaned back. "I'm not about to make another deal with you." His neck twinged, reminding him of the ones he was already trapped in.
The redhead rolled his eyes as if Lucifer was the one being ridiculous. "And who's asking?" He waved the concern away with his free hand. "The experience alone would be of worth to me."
Lucifer doubted it was that simple. Still, he tried picturing it: this taciturn, egotistical sinner in a room full of beings powerful enough to swat him like a fly the moment he annoyed them. Lucifer's could feel the dubious frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You do realize every single one of the people at this party is going to dislike you, right? Hellborn don't like mingling with sinners."
Alastor looked at him like he wondered who Lucifer thought he was. "This won't be my first party with a pack of wolves."
"You do know you're not invincible, right?" One of these days, Alastor's ego was going to get him killed. To drive this point home, he raised his hand up to the redhead's forehead, made easier by Alastor still being so close, and flicked.
Right where the bullet that had killed him would have exited.
The response was electric.
Alastor's eyes turned red on black, green stitching lighting up his person. His hands, claws razer sharp, caught Lucifer's grip in what would have been a bone crushing grip, had Lucifer been a sinner. "Don't ever do that again." The Radio Demon's smile was long and full of teeth as sharp as his claws. He was fully rejuvenated from his little stunt earlier in the day and he likely could have taken on any of the Overlords in that moment and won.
But as powerful as he was, Lucifer barely felt the grip around his wrist. It would be child's play to break it. Alastor would be nothing more than a fly to even the least powerful member of the Goetia. That was his point.
Lucifer matched his smile with the blankness of apathy. "You wouldn't last the night in the same room with these demons. They'd eat you alive the moment you pissed them off." Would it be worth it to inflict a sinner - this sinner, at that - on the rest of the Goetia just to see how long Alastor could last before someone knocked him down another peg?
Alastor was undeterred by the threat. "Is that a yes?"
This was a bad idea. Lucifer shrugged, feeling a little light headed. "Sure. Just know I'm not bailing you out when you get in over your head."
The redhead released his wrist, finally backing off. His appearance returned to normal, as if he had never lost his temper to begin with. "Perfect. And when is this ceremony?"
Lucifer couldn't believe he was actually doing this. This was such a bad idea. But he was the King of Bad Ideas, was he not? Covering his eyes with a single hand, he groaned.
"It's tomorrow."
tbc
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quitealotofsodapop · 3 days
Note
So if Wukong didn't know MK was playing superhero, why was he able to be caught by Spider Queen? The answer is clear. He took the younger cubs down to see the parade. That way, he could be closer to the fireworks, and his kids are entertained. He ended up being caught up in the initial attack and discovered MK playing hero while trying to evacuate the cubs away from the angry spider lady trying to turn people into spider zombies.
Wukong is not happy, but at this point there are far more important things to deal with. He orders MK to get his siblings somewhere safe while he handles Spider Queen. When MK protests, he tells him that MK's arachnophobia would only get in the way, and he is still Sun Wukong, the gods be damned Great Sage Equal To Heaven and the Monkey King. He isn't so far into his retirement that he can't put an upstart little princess in her place.
The plan backfires and Wukong gets captured by LBD and Spider Queen, of course, but hey, the Noodle Crew gets to meet MK's siblings! Sandy babysits them while they're in Heaven trying to get the stuff. All they know of it is that MK's mom was caught by the Spider Queen, they don't know yet exactly who his parent is. Not until much later when Wukong and DBK break out of their bonds and save them.
"Holy shit, is that Sun Wukong!?" ;Probably Tang
"Mom!" :MK
"MOM!?" :Literally eveyone
After all is said and dine Wukong makes good on his promise of a long talk, or rather lecture, and MK is grounded.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD BE SO RECKLESS! Xiaotian, your father an I taught you better than this! What were you thinking!?"
"But when you were my age you were at war with Heaven, though!"
"And look what that got me! Thrown in a furnace and pinned under a mountain for 500 years! What you did was stupid and reckless. What if you'd gotten hurt!? Your still mortal, MK!"
Referencing.
Yesss. Wukong canonically adores New Years, and I def agree that love extends to the cubs too.
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Wukong does a "surprise" visit to Megapolis to show the younger cubs the New Years Parade + check up on his eldest while MK is helping Pigsy with the foodtruck. Likely all in glamours, but MK 100% gets an embarassing visit from his mom at work. The Noodle shop gang tease him endlessly about it.
Then cue the Spider Queen's invasion, and Wukong giving MK the cubs to watch for the moment while he Kings Up. MK doesn't want his mom to go in his condition, but Wukong is still The Monkey King, and has no idea that his son has been superhero-ing for the past couple of months.
The gang all meet up on Sandy's airship, and the kiddos glamours all drop from stress. This is where the gang confirms (they had suspiscions) that MK is a disguised demon - they dont mind since thats sadly common in human-dominated cities. MK specifically being a monkey demon gets Tang asking questions though.
Red Son shows up and has a brain-fart mid-plan when he recognises who "Noodle Boy" actually is;
Red Son: "Xiaotian!? I haven't seen you since we were calves! This explains so much!"
MK, nervous sweating: "Not now dude! My mom got captured by the Spider Queen, and my dad is MIA right now."
Red Son: "Ah but of course. Seems we have the same predicament then. No fear, I have a plan to defeat the Spider Queen and save our respective parents."
Tang, panic-nerding: "MK, how do you know Red Son!?"
MK, flash of SWK-esque anger: "NOT NOW."
The gang get to the Celestial Realm and retrieve what they need to make the antidote - though not without attracting the attention of a certain hound that just realised her fave monkey is here.
MK, petting the dog: "I'm sorry Quan. I can't play right now! I'm saving the city."
Xiaotian Quan: (*sad whine!*)
Meanwhile at the Spider Mech; DBK has finally met his little brother/enemy once again. DBK in his anger, yells about Sun Wukong's "little-thief successor MK" ruining so many of his family's attempts at gaining power, and Wukong just blanks;
Wukong, scary parent voice: "Xiaotian has been doing what!?"
DBK: "The Little Thief is Xiaotian!?"
DBK would also shout at Wukong for putting himself in danger in his condition, but quiets when he learns that Macaque is missing. Tieshan had seemed worried since DBK got back (infact, maybe its why she decided to free him), and everyone knows that the shadow monkey wouldn't leave his mate without reason. When LBD arrives, DBK and Wukong immediate get a chill up their spines. They both know that she's somehow involved with Mac's disappearance... DBK has his super-saiyan moment of worried-anger and frees both himself and his xiandi so that they can find their reckless kids.
The Noodle Shop gang (+ Red Son and the cubs) bust on through with the spider-venom antidote and manage to subdue the Spider Queen with their combined forces.
Tang is about to fanboy at the sight of Sun Wukong in the flesh when MK and the cubs yell something that shatters his preconceptions.
MK & the cubs: "Mom!" "Mama!"
Noodle Shop Gang: "MOM?!?"
Wukong, swarmed by baby monkeys: "Thank Nuwa you're all ok!" (*hugs them all tight*)
Wukong: (*suddenly bonks MK on head with a sandal*)
Wukong: "And you! How dare you not tell me that you've been fighting demons this whole time! You told me you were only getting a job for mortal experience!"
MK: "But mom! I did get a job! I've been using my spare time trying to figure out what happened to dad!"
Wukong: "Which I specifically told you Not to do!! Your father has gotten himself tangled up with a very dangerous witch and I'm not letting you run into one of her traps!"
Noddle Shop Gang + DB fam: (*standing at a safe distance from the yelling*)
Tang, dizzy with excitement: "Anyone else feel like they're in a fantasy right now?"
Mei: "Hm, not really. I knew Xiaotian since we were pups. My grunkle Ao Lie is the same dragon-horse from the stories."
Tang: "Excuse me!?"
Erlang shows up on Earth asking Wukong tf just happened - his third eye showed him the chaos in the Celestial Realm and Lao Tzu is pissed for his missing pills and Furnace. But he immediately leaves when he sees tje carnage of a saved mortal city + Sun Wukong. (Erlang: "Ah. Say no more.")
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pinkpkmntrainer · 2 days
Text
i did it. i fucking did it. abstragedy be upon you all. finally.
***********
Zooble watched from a distance as the ringmaster shoved everyone into the portal that had just appeared. They had decided to opt out of today’s adventure, so it was just them in the circus for today. Which they didn’t mind at all, in fact, they were happy to have alone time. It gave them a chance to think clearly without any interruption from any crazy people.
“Zooble, my dear!” Caine shouted as he teleported directly in front of them out of nowhere. Ugh. Speaking of crazy people…
“Don’t call me that.” they grumbled. “I’m not your dear.”
“Right, my apologies!” the dentures replied. “But since everyone else is over at the Candy Canyon Kingdom, I was thinking that maybe you, me, and Bubble could-”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“...Ooookay. That’s a no, then. So, um…in that case, I guess you can just do whatever you want.” And with that, he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.
Zooble rolled their eyes as they began to wander aimlessly. Why was it that they could never seem to catch a break? Oh well, at least now they had a bit of time to themselves. Hopefully Caine wouldn’t bother them again. It wasn’t long before their thoughts began to wander as well.
They recalled the events of the previous day, where they were kidnapped by the Gloinks and fed to their queen. They remembered the look of fear and worry on Gangle's face when they were carried off. And they remembered how, when Kinger had failed to grab them with his floating hands, they thought “If only Gangle was the one saving me”. She would've known what she was doing, plus they would've gotten to be held gently by her...
…Huh. Weird.
Brushing away those thoughts, they started to look around the giant main room. There wasn't really anything new to see, but there were things to notice. Like the dark red color of the curtains that hung over the stage, and how it reminded them of Gangle's red ribbon body. There was something so cute about the way it would wrap around you completely when she hugged you, and-
Zooble suddenly realized what they were doing, and patted their own face, bringing themselves back to reality. They just couldn't seem to focus today…
They tried to lean on one of the gigantic blocks in the room like it was a wall, but they unexpectedly slipped and hit the floor with a hard thud. Luckily there wasn't anyone around to see their embarrassing little tumble, but as they lay there shocked, they thought about all the times they saw Gangle trip and fall. Her body was so flimsy, it wasn't a surprise that it happened often. But no matter what, she always managed to get up again, which was something to be admired. And sometimes when they helped her up, she’d thank them and they’d feel all warm and fuzzy-
Zooble sat up in a panic and tapped the heel of their hand against their forehead, as if trying to shake the thoughts out of their brain. Why were they thinking like this? What was happening? 
They stood up frantically and began to walk in the direction of the hallway where everyone’s rooms were. They were supposed to go to their room, but their mind was so plagued with thoughts of Gangle, they accidentally walked to her room instead, which only made them feel worse. They slammed their forearms against the door and groaned in frustration. The door just swung open and they fell again. Zooble was feeling awful by this point, the thoughts were nice and all, but they had no idea why they were thinking these things and it was scaring the $&*! out of them. They eventually sat up and took in the sight of Gangle’s room. 
Most of the decor and furniture was in the same range of colors as Gangle herself; dark red and white shades, though things like the bedframe, wardrobe and vanity were all made of dark brown wood. Every surface was covered in craft supplies, plushies, manga, and other such things. Despite the clutter, the room was pleasant and cozy.
As if by instinct, Zooble stepped into the room and started to look around. They weren’t trying to snoop or anything, it was just that being in the room made them feel closer to the ribbon girl…if that made any sense. They eventually settled themselves into a corner, next to a box of art stuff. It was peaceful, sitting there in Gangle’s room. They sighed with relief, not feeling quite so lonely anymore. The mix-and-match toy felt like they might even fall asleep like this…
“ZOOBLE!!”
Zooble lept in place, startled by the sudden yell. Of course Caine had to ruin this for them.
“Caine, what the #&*%!?!?”
“Apologies, my mismatched pal! I simply wanted to check on you! And you had me worried for a while, I couldn’t find you anywhere!” He looked around the room with a puzzled expression. “...Why are you in Gangle’s room??”
Zooble felt their breath snag in their throat. He probably thought they were a creep or something. And they couldn’t blame him.
“...I don’t have a good answer to that question.”
Caine frowned at them. Or at least, they thought it was a frown. “What’s the matter? Are you feeling a little bit of FOMO about today’s adventure?” he inquired. Zooble would’ve laughed at his choice of words if they weren’t so lost in thought still.
“I’m fine, just lonely is all.”
“Lonely? Well, we simply can’t have that! Perhaps I could spawn in an NPC for you to talk to? Or you could hang out with me and Bubble! My offer still stands!”
Zooble drew in a sharp inhale, unsure of how to explain everything to the ringmaster.
“It's a bit more complicated than that. The truth is, I…miss someone.”
“Miss someone?” Caine was confused. His gaze wandered the room briefly, and when he looked at the portrait on the open door, it all suddenly made sense. A soft, sympathetic look faded onto his face, and he lowered himself to the ground, seating himself next to Zooble.
“…You miss Gangle?”
Zooble was surprised he got it so quickly, but nodded. They looked down at the box they were seated next to, their eyes falling on a roll of red satin ribbon. They picked it up and started to slowly wrap it around their hand. It felt almost exactly like they imagined it would feel to hold hands with Gangle…they felt their face grow warmer at the thought. They suddenly became aware of Caine mumbling something, but they couldn’t quite hear him. “What?”
“I’m sure she misses you too.”
Zooble blushed at the kind statement. “Oh…thanks.” They were silent for a long moment, then yawned and leaned on the box a little more. In their drowsy state, they didn’t even notice when Caine tiptoed out of the room and shut the door behind him. It only took a moment for them to fall into a deep sleep.
Gangle tumbled out of the portal back into the main room of the circus, clutching the shattered pieces of her comedy mask as tightly as she could. As she and everyone else stood up and grumbled, Caine appeared in front of them and did his usual greeting, with all the same sickly sweet enthusiasm.
“Welcome back, superstars! I trust you all had a fun time at the Candy Canyon Kingdom?”
The sound of groaning and complaining arose from the group, which the ringmaster ignored as usual. But after he presented the performers with their reward, his jaw curled into a grin as he drifted towards Gangle, and simply said:
“Someone’s waiting for you.”
Gangle had no idea what he meant by that. She allowed him to lead her to her room, where he swung the door open to reveal…Zooble? To her surprise, the mix-and-match character was sitting in the corner of her room, fast asleep, with a bunch of satin ribbon wrapped around their hand. Her initial look of shock quickly turned into a soft smile as she stepped closer and sat down next to them.
“Have they been waiting here the whole time?” she asked, her eyes still fixed on Zooble’s sleeping face. Caine grinned cheerfully as he answered her question. “Indeed they have! I must say, you have a good friend on your hands!”
“Yeah. A good friend.” she mumbled to herself. She leaned in and planted a kiss on the sharp corner of Zooble's triangular head, a faint pink blush appearing on her porcelain cheeks. Caine's jaw curled into another wide grin as he shut the door. It was just the two of them now. A girl made of ribbons and a mix-and-match toy…
Both of them, hopelessly in love.
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hbyrde36 · 3 days
Text
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for @penny00dreadful
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 <-
Chapter 4: No Place Like Home
WC: 5496 | Ch 4/4 | AO3 <-
It was a surprisingly smooth landing as Steve was brought into the highest tower of the Witch’s castle through a large open window, caught in the exceptionally strong grip of the two flying monkeys who carried him there. 
Eddie had arrived the same way only a moment or two ahead of him, and was now struggling against his own guard monkey's hold, trying to get to Steve while being dragged out of one of the room’s two doors.
“It’s so kind of you both to visit me in my loneliness.” The Wicked Witch cackled, standing in the middle of the chamber next to a huge crystal ball, the image displayed within it fading before Steve could suss it out. 
“What are you gonna do with Eddie? Where are they taking him?!” Now that his feet were on solid ground, Steve tried to fight back, but couldn’t seem to shake his captors.
The Witch waved a dismissive hand. “Never you mind about that.”
“Give him back to me!” Steve raged.
“Certainly, certainly, as soon as you give me those slippers.”
Steve swallowed hard, hesitating. He knew what Eddie would probably say, that it was a terrible idea to give her even more power—to give her what she wanted. 
At his silence, she turned, addressing a few more of her little monsters that were waiting on standby around the room. “Very well. Boys?”
The flying monkey’s ears perked up. 
“Hurt him.”
Steve braced himself as The Witch’s henchman quickly moved to follow her command, but it wasn’t him they were coming for, instead they raced out the same door Eddie had just been forced through.
“No!” Steve shouted, willing to risk anything if it kept Eddie safe.  “Take the damn shoes, I don't care! Just don’t… don’t hurt him, please.”
She shot him a cruel grin, and the monkeys holding him finally let go, backing away as she stalked closer. “That’s a good boy.” 
Steve snarled, briefly considering kicking her right in her smug face as she bent down, but thought she might be less likely to let Eddie go if he did. 
Begrudgingly, he held himself still as she reached out her hands, but before she could even lay a finger on the shoes, there was a flash of light, a spark like electricity crackling, and a force lashed out to zap her. 
The Witch jumped back, hissing. “Curse you!”
“That wasn’t me! I swear!”
“No, but I should have known. My sister must have put a spell on them. They’ll never come off… as long as you’re alive.” She circled him slowly, tapping the end of her pointed chin. “Now the only question is how to do it.”
“Oh for the love of—” Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “Just kill me if you’re going to kill me, alright? Why do you people always have to drag shit out?
“What people?”
“Bad guys!”
She huffed, straightening her cloak. “These things must be done delicately, or you hurt the spell.”
“They're always monologuing about their evil plans too. I mean, what’s up with that?” Eddie’s voice rang out from where he had suddenly appeared in the doorway behind The Witch, somehow having given his guards the slip.
She stomped her feet. “I don’t mono—” She began, then gasped, spinning around. “How did you get free?!”
Steve wracked his brain to come up with some kind of distraction, anything to keep her busy long enough for them to get away. 
“Hey, Witch!” He called out as he squatted to pick up the massive crystal ball he’d noticed on arrival, even heavier than it looked, and began to carry it towards one of the  windows. “You don’t need this for anything important, right?” 
“Put that back! It’s priceless!” she shrieked.
“It’s pretty heavy, I don’t know if i can–” Steve cut himself off, pretending to stumble, and tossed the ball as hard as he could, hoping she’d try to catch it.
She dove, and in an impressive show of strength and dexterity managed to get under the ball before it hit the ground, preventing it from breaking. She looked stunned from the fall, the weight of the crystal pinning her to the ground for the time being.
Steve made to run to Eddie’s side, but just then, the other set of doors burst open and half a dozen very tall foot soldiers in ornate uniforms, furry helmets, and with the same bright green skin as their ruler, spilled into the room, rounding on Steve and cutting them off from each other. 
“Just go!” Steve shouted.
Eddie shook his head, eyes darting from the door behind him to what he could see of Steve between the soldiers. “I’m not running away and leaving you here!”  
“Get out and find help! It's not running away if you’re coming back, right? Now— go!” 
“Damnit, Harrington.” Eddie cursed, taking a few stumbling steps towards the way out. “I am coming back.”
“I know.”
With one last tortured look Eddie took off, his pounding footsteps echoing as he ran through the hall and down what sounded like a set of stairs. Half the guards took off after him while the others remained with Steve, backing him into the wall.
Steve craned his neck, near enough to a window to peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Eddie’s escape and know first hand that he’d gotten away. 
“Come on, come on,” he chanted quietly to himself, even as the soldiers started trying to pull him back over to The Witch, who was unfortunately back on her feet again. The castle doors began to close as he watched, and for a second Steve thought all hope was lost, but then he spotted it—moonlight shining on dark curly hair, slipping through the opening just before the door slammed. 
Steve’s heart leapt, and he finally let himself be led back over to The Witch. No matter what else happened here, at least Eddie had made it. 
“You’ve been more trouble to me than you’re worth, brat!” 
“Heard that before.” Steve mumbled to himself. He didn’t fight as the hands on him shoved him down into a chair, figuring it was smarter to save his strength for now.
“But, it'll all be over soon,” The Witch added as she snatched a giant hourglass off a nearby shelf, flipping it over onto the table in front of him. “That’s how much longer you've got to be alive. When the sand runs out, I'll have made my preparations.”
With that, she and her soldiers left, locking both doors up tight, leaving him alone in the tower.
Steve didn’t waste time wondering why he wasn’t tied down or handcuffed, and was out of his seat in a flash. First he checked the doors because, duh, but they were, indeed, locked. He then ran back over to the window, wondering if he’d survive the drop. It didn’t seem likely—even if he did, there was no way he’d walk away from that kind of fall without needing serious medical attention, and he had yet to see a single hospital in Oz. 
His next move was to search the room for weapons, something to break the doors in, or anything he might be able to use to climb down. The curtains proved to be useless, moth bitten and too slippery to really tie together, and apart from a chair leg he managed to break off that doubled as a wooden stake, he found nothing else useful to defend himself with. 
Time passed slowly.
And yeah, Steve had been through a lot in his life, but he’d never been kidnapped before. He never would have imagined it could be this… boring? 
There was only so long you could stand at attention, waiting for your captor to come back before your eyelids started to droop. He wound up sitting at the windowsill, head resting on his arm as he gazed out at the night sky, letting his mind wander. He didn’t really believe this was the last night of his life, he’d survived too much to be taken down by some psychotic pea-soup looking bitch, but any hope he had of seeing home again was gone.
He thought back on all the time he’d wasted—squandered opportunities to tell the people he loved just how much he loved them, the number of times he blew Dustin off to go on a date with some girl he couldn’t give two shits about, all these months since Vecna with Eddie, unable to accept his own feelings, and too afraid to admit them aloud. 
He was so lost in it all that he almost didn’t hear the sound of someone pounding on one of the doors. Reasonably sure The Witch wouldn’t be knocking in her own castle, he ran to it, pressing his ear to the wood. 
“Steve?!” A muffled voice shouted from the other side. 
Eddie!
“It’s me, yes! In here!”
“Stand back, I’m going to chop through the door!”
Steve stepped back, watching in awe as the wood slowly splintered away with each blow, until finally he could see Eddie’s face through it, distantly thinking it looked like he had some sort of animal resting on his head. 
A few more chops and there was a hole big enough for Steve to squeeze through. 
Once on the other side, he saw that Eddie wasn’t alone. The Tin Woman, The Scarecrow, and The Lion were all with him—all dressed like The Witch’s soldiers.
“Costume change?” Steve asked.
“Long story.” Eddie let out a shaking breath as he tore the fuzzy hat from his head and flung it aside, managing to shrug out of his big coat just in time to catch Steve as he threw himself into the other boy’s arms. 
“I wasn’t sure I'd ever see you again.” Steve whispered with his face pressed into Eddie’s hair. 
“You didn’t think I was really coming back?”
“I knew you’d try, even if I hoped you wouldn’t.”
Eddie squeezed him tighter. “You’re such a self sacrificial ass.”
“Takes one to know one.” Steve pulled back, punching him lightly in the shoulder before turning to The Scarecrow, drawing her into a quick hug too. “I can’t believe it, you’re really okay?”
“Might be missing a little stuffing here and there but, these two did a great job getting me back in one piece.”
Their reunion was abruptly cut short by shouts in the distance.
“We gotta get out of here!” The Lion roared.
“What about the broom?” Steve said.
Eddie grabbed his hand. “She wants to kill you, Steve, fuck the broom! We’ll find some other way home.”
The group of them flew down the stairs back towards the way they’d come in. By some miracle they didn’t see a soul along the way, but as they raced across the foyer, just before they reached the exit, the doors swung closed, right in their faces.
“Going so soon?”
Steve turned at The Witch’s voice, spotting her standing on a balcony above looking down at them, laughing, as soldiers began spilling into the space from every direction. They were surrounded, though oddly none of the green men actually attacked, only approached slowly and menacingly.
“That’s right,” The Witch praised her guards. “Don’t hurt them right away, we’ll let them think about it a little first.”
Steve rolled his eyes. 
Eddie raised the ax he still held, as though he would take on the entire brigade himself, but The Scarecrow snatched it out of his hand. 
“What the–” 
She swung it around, chopping and cutting a rope tied to the wall that Steve hadn’t even noticed, and sent a giant chandelier falling from the ceiling to land on a large group of the soldiers. 
“Good thinking!” Steve said, and they used the momentary distraction to flee, running up a different set of steps to get away since it was the only path that was clear. They had no idea where they were going, and up didn’t seem likely to lead out, but they had little choice now. 
The soldiers unaffected by the chandelier attack gave chase, and the five of them ran down corridor after corridor before finally spilling out onto the battlement, a part of the wall where soldiers patrol. It was a dead end and quickly they found themselves backed into a corner, soldiers on both sides, The Wicked Witch among them. 
“Well,” she sing-songed as she zeroed in on Steve, “ring around the rosie, a pocket full of spears. Thought you’d be pretty foxy didn’t you? Well the last to go will see the first four go before him.”
Eddie leaned into Steve’s side, whispering, “What the hell did she just say?”
“I have no idea.” Steve said.
“I think she’s going to kill the rest of us first and make you watch.” The Scarecrow guessed.
“Right you are, Scarecrow. So how about a little fire?” The Wicked Witch raised the head of her broom up to one of the many torches that ran along the length of the wall, lighting it.
There was no way Steve was letting her anywhere near The Scarecrow with that thing, she’d go up in seconds and unlike being disassembled he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to come back from that. He lunged for the broomstick before she could lower it, grabbing it in the middle and fighting for control. 
The next thing Steve knew he was being soaked in water like he was a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest.
The fire was put out instantly, the broomstick clattering to the ground as The Witch started screaming bloody murder. 
“Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! Who would've thought two pretty-boy-brats like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness.”
It was only water—from the now empty bucket Eddie was holding that he’d found god knows where—but as though she’d been dipped in the most corrosive acid known to man, The Witch began to sizzle and smoke, and truly did melt away into a puddle on the stone floor, leaving nothing solid but her clothes behind.
“She’s dead, you killed her.” One of the soldiers blurted out.
Steve hovered, trying to shield Eddie, unsure of how this was going to play out. The witch might have been gone, but they were still sorely outnumbered if her henchman’s loyalty extended past the grave. 
But Eddie wasn’t having it. He remained in front, tilting his chin up. “Honestly, it was an accident, but she did try to kill us first, so—fair is fair.”
There was a moment of absolute silence before the entire army, monkeys included, let out a deafening cheer. “Hail to Steve and Eddie! The Wicked Witch is dead!”
Eddie looked back at him, jaw dropped, and Steve could only smile.
When the cacophony died down, Steve approached the first soldier who spoke, supposing he might be the leader or general or something. “The broomstick, can we have it?” 
“Yes, of course! Please, take it with you.”
After a short reunion with a certain stunned-to-see-them-still-alive guard, fresh off what must have been an epic frolic through the poppy field and subsequent mystical slumber—if the state of his very red and heavy lidded eyes was any indication—Steve, Eddie, and their companions once again entered The Wizard’s throne room.
“Why have you come back?!” The deep voice of the Wizard rumbled through the air.
“We did what you asked.” Steve said simply, holding the Witch’s charred broom above his head.
They all waited with bated breath for some kind of response, but were met with nothing. After a few long moments Eddie took the broomstick from Steve and stepped forward. 
“The Wicked Witch is dead, and uh, we brought you the broomstick.” He cleared his throat loudly, unceremoniously tossing the burnt bit of wood in the direction of the dais. “So, make with the wish granting, yeah?” 
“I’ll have to give the matter a little thought. Go away and come back tomorrow.” The voice eventually responded.
“Tomorrow?!” Eddie snapped.
Steve shook his head, hands balled into fists at his sides. “But we wanna go home now!”
“We did everything you asked!.” The Tin Woman argued.
“Yes! At least send them home! They deserve it after performing such a great public service!” The scarecrow added, staring defiantly up at the floating head. 
As the others jumped in to help argue their point, Eddie began to look around the room, searching, and beckoned Steve to follow him. They quickly found something odd tucked in a dark corner that seemed not only out of place, but frankly looked like an obvious control center of some sort hidden behind a green curtain. How hadn’t they noticed it before?
Together they crept closer, each grabbing one side of the cloth, and on a silent count of three…
“Do you dare to criticize the Great Oz? Think yourselves lucky that I'm giving you an audience tomorrow instead of twenty—” 
…Flung the curtain back to reveal a young girl, about their age, with red hair, a bowler hat, and an all around Molly Ringwald vibe.
“...years from now.” 
She swiveled in her chair as she finished her sentence, the words a strange mix of the booming voice they’d been hearing, and her actual voice coming through as her mouth got further from the contraption she was using to alter it.  
“Ah, shit.” The girl, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Robin’s almost-girlfriend Vickie, sighed as she spotted the two of them, realizing she’d been caught in the act.
The others came over to join the party just as Eddie got up in her face. “Who the hell are you?” 
She looked down, fingers playing with the hem of her top. “Would you believe… The Great and Powerful Oz?”
“What a scam! You’re a phony!” Steve shouted.
“I am, yes.” Her shoulders slumped. “These are all tricks I learned working with a magician at the State Fair.”
Eddie fumed. “You sent us on a suicide mission!”
“And I'm very sorry about that!” She said quickly, holding her hands up. ”In my defense, I didn't actually expect you to go after The Witch, I thought if I gave you an impossible task you would just give up and not come back. Then my reputation could stay intact.”
“I suppose this means no brain for The Scarecrow, or heart for me, or courage for The Lion?” The Tin Woman said. 
“You don’t need me for that, you already have all those things. Think about it, Tin Woman. Was it not for the love of your friends that you helped them to get here, and to defeat the Wicked Witch? Someone with no heart wouldn’t do that.”
The Wizard smiled, rising from her chair, facing The Lion next.
“And you, Lion. What, you think just because you’re afraid that makes you a coward? You still did it, you still stood by your friends. See, the trick isn’t to not be scared, it’s to be scared and do it anyway. That’s courage.”
The Wizard turned lastly to face The Scarecrow and audibly gasped, her face turning an incredibly bright shade of red. “You, um, you helped to argue your friend's cases well, and I-I think it’s quite clear that you have a-a brain.” She paused, swallowing hard. “A b-big gorgeous brain, with, just—so many thoughts. I… sorry I don't usually—”
She trailed off, completely flustered and unable to look away from The Scarecrow’s face. 
For a moment The Scarecrow looked equally entranced by the Wizard, but then she frowned, looking back at Steve and Eddie. “But, what about the boys? They want to go home.”
The Wizard bit her lip. “Well, I might have a way to get them there, but it would mean taking them myself, never to return.”
“Will you?” Eddie asked.
“Of course,” She said hesitantly, looking from him and Steve to The Scarecrow and shook her head. “I—of course. I used to live in Indiana too, y’know. I was working at the fair, like I said, and one morning the boss asked me to test the propane tanks in the hot air balloon. I didn’t know what I was doing but it seemed easy enough. Damn thing took off on me, and just never came down. I got caught in a wind storm and landed here in Oz, came up with this ruse about being a Wizard and, well, you get the idea.”
“Do you still have the balloon?” Steve asked.
She grinned. “How do you think we’re getting you home?”
-
Steve and Eddie finally leaving Oz turned out to be a grand spectacle, with every citizen wanting to thank them for ridding their lands of not one, but two Wicked Witches, in such a short span of time. Even Glinda had made the journey to see them off. 
The balloon was set up in the middle of the square, and as The Wizard checked and re-checked her equipment, Steve and Eddie set about saying their farewells.
They hugged The Tin Woman and The Lion, and while It was difficult to say goodbye to them, it was nothing to the way Steve felt about leaving The Scarecrow. He had his own Robin, his best friend, waiting for him back home, but he felt connected to this version of her almost as strongly. 
It didn’t help that he’d seen the way she and The Wizard had been looking at each other since the moment they’d met. 
“Alright boys, ready to go?” The Wizard asked, looking sad.
“No,” Steve answered, turning an apologetic look on Eddie. “I can’t. I can’t ask her to leave forever, not if…”
“It’s okay, Steve. I saw it too. I want to go home, but I feel terrible.”
“Maybe Glinda can help?” Steve said.
One mention of her name and suddenly The Good Witch was right beside them, as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “You don't need to be helped any longer. You've always had the power to go back to Hawkins.”
Steve blinked at her. “I have?”
“Then why didn't you tell him that before?!” The Scarecrow asked. 
“Because, Steve had a few things he needed to figure out first. Isn’t that right?”
Steve gulped, giving her wide eyes.
“I don’t get it.” The Lion said. 
The Tin Woman shushed him, patting his hand. “I’ll explain it to you later.”
Eddie tilted his head. “What does she mean, Steve?”
“Well, I-I.” Steve stammered, eyes darting between Glinda and Eddie.
The Good Witch smiled, nodding encouragingly. “If you are ready to accept the truth, those magic slippers will take you home in two seconds.”
Steve but his lip. “Eddie too?”
Glinda laughed, high and bright. “Of course, Eddie too. Now stand together, and facing each other.”
They did what she asked, and while he remained quiet, Eddie was giving him that curious look again. 
“What do I have to do, are there, like, magic words?” Steve asked.
“There are lots of magic words, Steve, but to get home you need only close your eyes, tap your heels together three times, and show the truth that is in your heart.
There was only one way Steve could think of to show the truth, so…
He took a deep breath, closed the space between him and Eddie, and crashed their lips together. His eyes fell shut as Eddie kissed back, melting into it—and as Eddie threaded gentle fingers through his hair, Steve clicked his heels together, three times.
-
“Steve?”
Eddie’s voice rolled over him out of the dark, tinged with concern. 
Steve groaned, disoriented, his neck aching from the angle it was at, and he could feel a bit of drool drying on his chin. 
“Stevie, wake up.” This time Eddie gently shook his shoulder, and Steve’s head snapped up, eyes popping open wide. He looked around wildly, confused to find that he was slumped in a chair behind the desk at Family Video—but it didn’t matter where they’d landed, he supposed, the shoes had worked, they were back!
“Did he fall asleep again?” Robin’s voice called out from directly behind, and Steve spun around so fast he knocked his chair over, which in turn knocked over a small stack of tapes.
He ignored the mess, pulling her into a tight hug. It was really her! No straw, no burlap, just a sweatshirt she’d stolen from his closet two nights ago, with her work vest over the top. 
She shook her head like he was an idiot, but hugged him back anyway before letting go to set the chair back on its legs. “I was only in the back rewinding returns for half an hour!”
“Oh,” Steve breathed, finally registering what she’d first said, and felt suddenly lost. He could have sworn it was real, but Robin wasn’t freaking out the way he knew she would have if he’d disappeared for an entire night and day…
Or was it two? 
The more he thought about it the less sure he was of how long he and Eddie had been stuck in that colorful other dimension. 
If—if he had been stuck in another dimension. 
Robin said he’d been asleep, and he was just slumped in his chair at the desk at the end of his shift, and there Eddie was, right in front of him looking amused, if a little worried, and… and wearing a completely different shirt than he’d had on as they trekked through—
Oh.
Eddie, who was here to pick him up for their hang out because Robin was borrowing his car.
Steve groaned again, rubbed his temples. “I had such a weird dream.” 
“Was it a nightmare?” Robin asked.
It was a fair question, and something they all experienced from time to time even this many months out from their final dealings with the Upside Down. But this…this had been something wholly different.
“I’m not sure.” He settled on, yawning as he fought to think through the fog that was slowly lifting from his brain. Had it really all been in his head? A dream, a fantasy?
“Some of it wasn't very nice, but—” He glanced at Eddie again and felt a blush spread over his face. “Most of it was beautiful.”
“You were there.” Steve continued, giving the other boy a little nod. Eddie’s lips twitched into a crooked smile. 
Steve turned to Robin next.  “You were too—and Nancy, and Jonathan, and Argyle, and—” he trailed off, trying to remember everyone else he’d encountered along the way.
Eddie chuckled. “Did Robin make you watch The Wizard of Oz on repeat again?”
Steve froze.
Oz, yellow brick road, Munchkins…
He was such an idiot.
“It was slow this morning!” Robin lashed out, defensively. And you know I’m seeing Vickie tonight, I needed my comfort movie to settle my nerves!”
“Yes, I am well aware of your impending date, Buckley, hence me and my van being here to play chauffeur.”
Steve checked the time, he still had about fifteen minutes until he could officially lock up and clock out. “You’re early.”
Eddie shrugged. ���I still have to pick us a movie for tonight. You go do your closing duties, or whatever, I'll be perusing the stacks.” 
Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away as Eddie walked off. He could still remember the other boy’s fingers pushing into his hair, gently cradling his head as they’d kissed—how his lips had felt so incredibly soft.
He wondered if it would be the same in real life.
“Steve… did you OD over there?” 
Steve startled as, once again, Robin's voice came from directly behind him, though much softer this time. He took her hand, pulling her to the other side of the room. 
“Do you remember that thing we talked about?”
She scrunched her nose. “Which thing?”
Steve sighed, speaking low. “You know, the… how some people go both ways, thing?”
She gasped, grabbing his arm, and looked back over her shoulder to where Eddie was still browsing, before whispering, “Do you mean…?”
Steve nodded, unable to stop his mouth from spreading into a wide grin.
“Are you gonna tell him tonight?!”
“Yeah, I think so.” Steve bit his lip. “Well, that, or maybe just stick my tongue down his throat the second we’re alone.”
Robin snorted. “And they say romance is dead.” 
“Okay smart-ass, how do you think I should go about it?”
“I think—it doesn’t matter what you say or do, because that boy is just as crazy about you as you are about him.”
“I hope so.” Steve looked down, wringing his hands. “I really like him. I-I might even–” He trailed off, too afraid to finish the thought even though he knew it was the truth.
“I know, dingus.”
At the other end of the store, tape in hand, Eddie began to make his way to the counter.
Robin gave Steve a little push towards the break room door. “You go splash some water on your face and change. I'll get your man checked out.”
“Not mine yet.”
“He will be. I’m proud of you, Steve.”
“Thanks, Robbie.”
As much as he’d joked to Robin about just going for it, Steve spent the whole drive to the new Munson trailer trying to compose the perfect speech to tell Eddie how he felt, but by the time they arrived he had nothing to show for his efforts but sweaty palms and anxiety.
Should he have just reached over the center console, taken Eddie’s hand, and hoped he got the hint? Maybe he shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. No, no. Steve was supposed to be good at this! Eddie deserved more, he deserved the perfect moment. 
“You, uh, planning on coming inside?”
Steve sucked in a breath, snapping to attention, and realized Eddie had already gotten out of the van and come around to open the passenger door.
“Sorry.” Steve’s face grew hot as he climbed out of the van. “Guess I'm still feeling a little out of it from falling asleep earlier.”
Eddie frowned, reaching up to feel Steve’s forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Are you sure that’s all? You do feel a little warm.”
“I’m fine.” Steve ducked his head, throwing off the touch, though what he really wanted was to lean into it, and followed Eddie inside.
Eddie went right for the kitchen, throwing the bag from Family Video bag on the counter before diving into the fridge, digging out two beers.
Steve tried hard not to stare as Eddie bent over, reaching for the bag for something to do instead, and pulled the single tape out, flipping it over to the cover. 
“Seriously? Return to Oz?”
Eddie turned, grinning as he took a sip from his own bottle, sliding the other one towards him. “Come on, that's funny!” 
Steve huffed a laugh and tossed the tape back onto the counter.
“And, y’know… it’s a good movie.” Eddie went on, grin slipping a little as he set his beer down and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away—looking nervous, Steve realized. He realized something else too—there was never going to be a perfect time, or a perfect way to say what was in his heart. He knew how he felt, and he was pretty sure he knew how Eddie felt now too, or at least his subconscious did. Now he just needed to take that leap of faith.
“I know you don’t really like all the horror stuff me and the kids usually make you watch, and since it’s just the two of us I figured—” 
In the middle of Eddie’s adorably flustered ramble Steve stepped around the kitchen counter, took the other boy’s face gently between his hands, and crushed their mouths together.
Eddie went very still under his touch and Steve quickly pulled back, panicked for a moment that he had it all wrong, until Eddie wound his arms around him, gripping the back of his shirt as he pressed him into the counter, and suddenly Steve was the one being kissed.  
And what a kiss it was.
At the first brush of tongue Steve smiled into it, unable to contain his joy because Eddie had kissed him back! 
When they finally pulled apart again, Eddie blinked hard, looking dazed. “Shit, Steve, am I–am I dreaming right now?”
“God I hope not.” Steve went right back in, winding his hands into Eddie’s hair as their lips met again and again, their bottles of beer forgotten, left to grow warm on the counter. 
-
Later that night, when the movie was over—not that they’d seen much of it—after they’d actually talked and made their relationship official, and made out so much that Steve’s lips were sore, they curled up in Eddie’s bed together. 
As he burrowed deeper into Eddie’s side, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him even tighter, Steve let out a contented sigh. 
Dorothy had it right—there really is no place like home.
Thanks again to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help with this!
25 notes · View notes
autumn816 · 1 day
Note
2 and 58 <3
Ngl, I thought about this prompt for a while and I couldn't come up anything first but then I came up with one scenario and changed it completely after. I really liked this combination. Hope you like it :)
Royal Au + Accidental Eavesdropping
Lyra walks quietly in the marbled hallway. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. She has made nightly kitchen trips a lot of times. She knows the way by heart. 
“Notice me?”
Lyra slows down as she reaches the kitchen and hears Papa’s voice.  
“I doubt you would have even looked towards me if we hadn’t gotten married first.”
Her eyebrows furrow. Uh, what? What did Papa mean by that? She hides behind the wall, not wanting her dads to see her. 
“Of course I would have looked towards you. You, George William Russell-Hamilton, are impossible not to.”
“You wouldn’t have. You can admit it. It’s fine.”
“No point dwelling on it now. I fell in love with you eventually.”
“We just had to get married first.”
“It’s not like you were in love with me before that.”
Lyra’s jaw drops. Her dads weren’t in love when they got married. What the hell? 
“Princess Lyra.”
She jumps, a shriek halfway up her throat. 
Dad’s advisor, Mr. Vettel or as she likes to call him, Uncle Seb stands a few feet away from her.  
“You cannot be eavesdropping. Your parents have told you it’s not a good habit.”
“I’m not eavesdropping.” Lyra tips her chin in the air. A lesson taught by Papa. It can be a sign of confidence. “It’s not eavesdropping if Dad and Papa are talking in a shared space.” 
Uncle Seb tries to look unimpressed but the twitch of his mouth gives him away. He places a hand on her shoulder and before she knows it, she is in the kitchen. 
“Look who I found lurking.”
Dad and Papa startle. Papa is sitting on the countertop, holding ice cream and a spoon. Dad is standing between Papa’s legs with his spoon in his mouth. 
“I wasn’t lurking!” Lyra exclaims. 
“You are right. You were just eavesdropping.”
She looks at Uncle Seb in betrayal. They were supposed to be partners in crime. She can’t believe he betrayed her like that. 
Uncle Seb only laughs and ruffles her hair before leaving the kitchen. Traitor. 
“I wasn’t. I…” She needs her brain to come up with something. “I… I was waiting for you to finish your conversation. You taught me that it’s not nice to interrupt so I was only following that.” 
Lyra might have just come up with one of the best defences ever, if she says so herself. 
Dad snorts, pointing his spoon towards her. “You have never once followed that.”
Her mouth forms an O in mock offence. “Yes, I have.”
“You ha–”
“Why are you up?” Papa steps in, jumping down the countertop. “It’s late. You have school tomorrow. It’s way past your bedtime.”
“I’m Princess Lyra Avery Russell-Hamilton. The only heir—the future Queen of Mercedes and Williams. I don’t have a bedtime, Papa.”
Both of her parents stare at her.
“That,” Dad breaks the silence, “was an unnecessary and a very dramatic speech just to say you don’t have bedtime.”
“Did it work?” Lyra asks cheekily. 
“It did.” Dad’s eyes switch from her to Papa who has his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “Not.” Dad clears his throat. “It did not. Sorry, kiddo.” 
Lyra switches the topic, wanting to avoid getting in trouble. Also, because she is curious. “Well, I can’t really go back to sleep now. Not after I found out you weren’t in love with each other when you got married.”
The room falls into silence for a minute. 
“How much did you hear?” Papa asks. 
“Enough to know that.”
“Lyra.” 
“What about the stories? How you broke your other wedding two days before because you were in love with Dad?”
Lyra grew up hearing them. Everyone always told her that. She loved hearing them while she grew up. 
“Sweetheart,” Dad says. “Come here.”
Lyra walks up to him and sits on the countertop. Her dads surround her. 
“I love your Papa very much.”
“But you didn’t always.”
“No, I didn’t always.”
“Oh.”
She knows realistically her dads couldn’t always be in love but it still wasn’t something she was prepared to hear. 
Papa tucks her hair behind her ear. Lyra leans into the warmth of his hand. “It was a long time ago, Ly.”
“What about your other wedding?”
Papa sighs. “It was a bit complicated. We had no other choice at that time.”
“Will you tell me more?”  
“Not tonight,” Dad chimes in. 
Lyra protests. “But–”
“Right now, you need to go back to sleep. You won’t wake up on time otherwise.”
“But, I want to know more.”
“How about this? Sleep now and school tomorrow and then we can talk on the weekend.” 
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
This was the original plan.
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But then I saw edits of Robin and Barney from How I Met Your Mother to loml by Taylor Swift and I was like gewis’ story told as a flashback to their child. The original plotline can still work but this time it would be told as a flashback when George and Lewis are telling Lyra their love story.
Mash-up trope
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skyloftian-nutcase · 7 hours
Text
The Pirate (Dad Squad)
EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!
Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.
Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.
Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.
Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.
A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.
What in the world...?
The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."
"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"
The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"
Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"
"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.
"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"
The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"
Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.
"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."
The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.
Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"
"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"
The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"
Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.
"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"
"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"
Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.
Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."
Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"
Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."
Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"
"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."
The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.
"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.
The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."
"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."
"It is my title," Fierce clarified.
"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"
This man talked entirely too much.
"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.
"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."
"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.
"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.
Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"
Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.
Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.
And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.
Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.
Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.
The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.
Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.
Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."
"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--
"Intruders!!"
Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.
"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.
Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.
"Did--did he just--"
"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.
Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?
Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"
"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.
"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.
"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.
The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.
He nocked another arrow.
"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."
Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.
Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."
Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.
There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--
Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"
I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."
As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"
Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.
Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.
Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"
"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."
Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.
There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.
"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"
"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."
Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."
"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"
Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"
Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."
Link?!
No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--
Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.
"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."
"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."
The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.
"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."
Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"
"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.
Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.
Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.
Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."
"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.
"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."
At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."
"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"
Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."
Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.
Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.
At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.
Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.
Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.
They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.
Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.
Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.
Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.
He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.
Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.
Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."
Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."
"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.
Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.
It was official. He despised sailing.
But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."
The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.
Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."
Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.
"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.
"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.
Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."
If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.
The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.
"How did Link become part of your crew?"
"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."
Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.
"He's a good kid."
Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."
Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"
Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."
"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"
"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.
Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.
Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.
But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.
Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"
Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"
He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"
"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.
"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."
Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."
Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."
The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."
"The--the what side?"
"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"
The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"
Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.
Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.
Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"
Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.
When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.
Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.
"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.
Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."
At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.
At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.
Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."
Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.
"Link!"
Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.
Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.
The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.
Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.
And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.
"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"
The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."
Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.
Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"
Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"
Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"
Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."
Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."
"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.
"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.
Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."
The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."
With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.
"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."
Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.
"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"
"Of course it is, I stole it!"
"But then why is your ship over there?"
"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"
"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"
"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"
Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.
Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."
With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.
29 notes · View notes
midwestmade29 · 1 day
Text
Jealousy 💚
Why is a jealous Jay White so hot? 😂 Thank you @coleskingdom for always sharing your extensive knowledge on King Switch with me and letting me pick your brain all the time 🥰 This story is for everyone that participated in my recent poll and voted for Jay. Enjoy 🖤
Word count: 2,479 Divider by: Me GIF by me 🙂
Disclaimers: Jealousy, cursing, unprotected sex. Read at your own discretion.
When Jay sees you talking to your ex, he lets his jealousy get the best of him…
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You, Will and Jay go back a long time. In Japan, Will and Jay often wrestled each other, had corresponding storylines, and even belonged to the same faction for a period of time. Outside of the ring, they were friends until you got thrown into the mix. After being introduced to Will one night, the two of you hit it off immediately and ended up in an official relationship!
Things with the two of you were going well, but Jay sort of became background noise the more time you and Will spent together. He often excused himself from conversations and social events that you guys were at. You enjoyed your friendship with Jay, but you could always tell something bothered him about holding that title.
Unfortunately, everything changed between you and Will when you got the opportunity to move back to the United States. The two of you had several long, difficult conversations about your relationship and if it could withstand that kind of distance. Both of you ultimately decided to end things with the breakup being amicable with nothing but love and respect for each other. Will and Jay stayed behind and went on to have extreme success in NJPW while you found your own in AEW.
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-> 2023 <- A couple years later, you and Jay rekindled your friendship, and in no time your friendship blossomed into a full-blown relationship. The two of you were inseparable! When Jay signed his AEW contract, you were with him every step of the way, from the decision making, negotiating, and signing his name on the dotted line. His new deal opened up so many opportunities for him and allowed the two of you to live in the same country after being apart for so long. AEW was lucky to have him on their roster, but you felt like you were the lucky one finally having him by your side.
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-> 2024 <- A lot can change in a year, that’s for sure! Never in your wildest dreams did you think your current boyfriend and your ex would end up signed to the same wrestling company again, but here they are. Sure, Will had done things with AEW before, but now he was officially All Elite! The two of you had fallen out of touch over time, chalking it up to having thriving careers, living in different time zones, and simply growing a part. Will had since moved on and found a new love just like you did with Jay. You weren’t worried about seeing him, you were more worried what Jay would say or do to him! His jealous side wasn’t pretty.
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You and Will ran into each other one night after Dynamite. You were walking to your locker room and spotted him leaning up against a wall on his phone. As soon as he noticed you too, he put his phone away and smiled! “Well, if it isn’t the prettiest bird this side of the Atlantic,” Will said kindly while opening his arms to you. “How are you love?” Halfway through your conversation with him, you couldn’t help but notice how often his eyes would drift between looking at you and looking past you. When you heard footsteps coming from behind you, you turned around and saw Jay staring daggers at Will. “Well, well, well if it isn’t the Golden Boy himself blessing us all with his presence,” Jay called out sarcastically.
He stood next to you and draped his arm over your shoulder before making it a point to kiss you long and hard. Your cheeks were flushed when he pulled away, mostly from embarrassment but also from the possessiveness of the kiss. Will being Will extended his hand politely to Jay while offering his best “Ello’ mate” only to have the tip of a gold bat placed in his hand. “You’re breathing with the Switchblade now, Golden Boy. AEW belongs to me, this is still my era. I’d watch yourself around these parts if I were you,” Jay’s tone was low and thick with disdain while he waved his bat in Will’s face. “Well, Bruv, while I appreciate your advice, I don’t think I’m the one that needs to have my head on a swivel. You never know when a hidden blade might get ya,” he warned as he took a step towards Jay. “Put that fuckin bat in my face again and I’ll show you who’s era it really is,” Jay become rigid with anger as he stood next to you. He was about to step forward when you placed your hand on his chest, silently begging him not to take things further. When he saw the nervous look on your face, he backed down. “Consider Y/N convincing me to spare you today your official welcoming present. Stay in your lane or next time I won’t be so nice,” Jay threatened. With his arm still draped over your shoulder, he guided the both of you around Will and walked away. You peered back at him and mouthed “sorry,” earning a nod in return.
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Tony Kahn had big plans for this week’s Dynamite at Daily’s Place! From start to finish, the show was jammed packed with some of AEW’s biggest stars, including a Casino Gauntlet match that both Jay and Will would be a part of. Your anxiety instantly grew as you listened to Jay telling Austin and Colten about it, the wickedness in his voice completely evident. You stopped him before he went on his way and tried to reason with him, “Please, Jay. Promise me you’ll be on your best behavior when you and Will are in the ring together. Please, for me?” “You drive a hard bargain, love. But what would the others think if I took it easy on ol’ Golden Boy? You’re dating King Switch sweetheart, not King Bitch. While I might not be on my best behavior, I’ll try not to send him to the hospital, deal?” Jay said with a wink. He kissed you on the forehead on his way out of the room, twirling his golden bat and whistling a cheerful tune.
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Will’s music blasted through the venue making the crowd go wild at his surprise entrance! He first squared up with Kyle O’Reilly before taking down Penta and Dante Martin. His small celebration was cut short when Jay snuck up behind him, putting him in a headlock and trying to land a Blade Runner on him! Will managed to counter the signature move, stopping Jay in his tracks and forcing him to back away. To the rest of the world, the smile they shared seemed genuine, but you knew better! After giving Will a fist bump, Jay made sure he had the upper hand when he immediately started to gouge his eyes and backed him into a corner. He landed several chops on his chest, Will making sure to return the favor before Jay rolled out of the ring. Around the 14-minute mark, the ref gave the final 3 count signifying Will as the winner! You knew once you were reunited with Jay backstage, you weren’t going to hear the end of how the “Golden Boy” took the W away from him.
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It felt like the entire company was attending the party Tony Kahn was throwing at his house! His home was immaculate and so incredibly large. There were decorations all throughout the inside and around the backyard. The open bars located inside the house and by the pool were the main attractions for most while the delicious hors d’oeuvres were a close second. Somewhere down the line you had lost track of Jay and found yourself standing at an empty cocktail table outside all by your lonesome. “Did the Switchblade cut you loose for the night?” Will jested as he sat his drink down. “I’m surprised the bloke left you all alone knowing I was lurking around,” “Ha ha, very funny. He’s mingling around here somewhere, I’m sure. Not really my thing,” you winked. “He doesn’t own me, you know. I’m free to talk to whomever I want,”
It was obvious Will wanted to say something else on the matter, but he let it go and tried to make small talk instead. “So, are all of Tony’s parties like this? Extravagant and crowded? I don’t think the lad spared any cost,”   “Definitely! He just wants everyone to enjoy themselves and have a good time. You’d be crazy to turn down an invitation to one of his events,” you chuckled. The conversation with you and Will was light and fun, but he eventually got pulled away to talk with some of the other guests. Almost right on cue, Jay walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you flush against his chest. “Having a good time chatting it up with Golden Boy?” his voice was honey in your ear, even though you knew there was more behind his question than sweetness.
You turned around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and speaking softly, “I would’ve been having a better time if I was chatting it up with you. Where have you been? I missed you,” “Trying to keep the boys out of trouble. It’s a full-time job as you know. I’m here now love, I’m all yours,” “Good,” you smiled. “Right now, I think I’d like to be anywhere else but out here. It’s too peopely, if you know what I mean,” Jay picked up on what you were suggesting and grabbed your hand. He led you towards the pool house, checking every room once you were inside. When the coast was clear, he crashed his lips against yours, devouring your mouth hungrily and greedily. Your tongues danced together in perfect unison, your breathing becoming more ragged the longer your lips remained connected. His hands roamed freely all over your body, grabbing handfuls of his favorite parts while your own were tangled in his hair. His strong arms picked you up effortlessly, carrying you over to the bar top and sitting you down on it.
You wrapped your legs around Jay’s hips, bringing him as close to you as possible. He had your dress bunched up around your waist, nearly ripping off your panties in his haste to get you bare before him. The groan he let out when he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra was low and throaty, but the moan you let out when he took your nipple in his mouth was anything but quiet. “Usually, I’d tell you to keep it down, but I don’t think I will this time. Let it all out sweet girl, let me hear those beautiful noises you make,” Jay growled against your chest. He was enjoying this way too much.
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It took everything in you not to rip his shirt wide open and make the buttons on it go flying everywhere! As you undid every one of them, you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself at the thought of Jay walking around the rest of the night with his shirt wide open. You knew no one would even bat an eye at it because he was always putting his goods on display! The man was proud of his abs, and he had every right to be. “Are you going to continue to eye fuck me, or can we move on to the real deal sweetheart?” he jested. “I’d prefer the latter,”
His white linen pants were down around his ankles now, his underwear quickly joining them when you yanked them down in a hurry. “So eager for me, aren’t you sweet girl? I bet you thought about this all night, didn’t you?” The look on Jay’s face as he inched himself inside your wet folds was incredibly sexy, filled with pure lust and need. No matter how many times you are intimate together, it never gets old. The two of you were undeniably and completely love drunk off one another.
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Every thrust of Jay’s hips echoed through the room as they slapped against you, each one purposeful and deep. His face was buried in your neck, your arms wrapped around his with your fingers laced in his hair. His firm chest was pressed against yours, barely an inch of room in between them. You could’ve sworn you heard a door open, but Jay encouraged you to brush it off. “Someone probably got lost, don’t worry about it. Eyes on me, love. Don’t look away,” he whispered.  You felt the tip of his hard length brush up against your sweet spot, instantly bringing your focus back on your bliss. You tried to stifle your moans and whimpers by biting Jay’s shoulder, but it was no use. You were too far gone, more than ready to topple over the edge and take your man with you. “Jay, I’m so close! So, fucking close!” you cried out. You thought the sudden grin that covered his face was from your declaration, but little did you know the real reason. You had been right about hearing someone moments ago because Will had suddenly walked by the room you and Jay were in! Your back was facing the door, so there was no way to know about the events taking place behind you. The two men locked eyes with each other, but Jay never lost his stride. “Tell them sweet girl, tell them who makes you feel so good. Let the whole party know who is the only one who can make you unravel like this,” he encouraged breathlessly. “Y-you Jay! Only you!” He increased his speed as he gave the middle finger to a mortified Will, making the poor guy run away in a hurry! When he returned his attention to you, Jay picked up on the signs your body was giving him, making sure to capitalize on every cue. “That’s it, love. Cum for me! God you’re so beautiful like this,” And just like that, your entire body began to tremble, every hair standing on end as you fell apart around Jay. The inferno that had been building up inside you had spread like an unruly wildfire through every fiber of your being, burning hot and completely consuming you. Every nerve ending had come alive, firing on all cylinders, making you feel every sensation, every wave of pleasure that much more.  Jay’s erratic movements gave himself away, his grunts and whimpers becoming more frequent just moments before he came inside you. He filled you with his hot seed, making a complete mess of you.
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Once you and the bar top were cleaned up, the two of you reemerged at the party. Will was nowhere to be found the rest of the night, but who could blame him? Your mind wasn’t focused on the missing Kingpin though.  You were more interested in your King Switch and when you could get him alone again.
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bigoltrashpile · 3 days
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Stay With Us
Hi guys!! Once again the lovely @galacticroyal93 has commissioned me! This is a yandere fic with all the boys trying to convince reader to finally move in with them! I hope you enjoy!
Lucky growled as he scrolled through the pictures on his phone.  His face almost hurt from how hard he was scowling.  All he wanted was a good picture of you to add to his collection, but every one had…him in it.  Your boyfriend.  Another growl escaped Lucky as he thought the word.  Every picture you had posted to your social media for the last few months had that scum in it.
All the skeletons had, either separately or together, plotted to kill him, of course.  They couldn’t just let some…nobody have you.  However, Papyrus had pointed out that if they killed him now, it might only force you into depression and solitude, pushing you further away instead of closer.  So they were forced to watch from afar, all seething with jealousy when you talked about your boyfriend.
Lucky chuckled as he remembered how each of them reacted when you introduced them to your date.  They ranged from Papyrus trying hard to smile but looking like he had just eaten a lemon, to Scar outright producing bone attacks and using his claws to sharpen them.  After a little while, you stopped mentioning him around the skeletons, and he hadn’t seen any of them face to face since that first meeting.
Of course, many of them had seen him.  They had to keep tabs on their favorite human, of course, and try to find dirt about their least favorite human.
After what felt like the hundredth photo of you and your boyfriend on a date, Lucky was fed up.  He tossed his phone across the room and stood up.  If he wanted to see you, he could do it in person.  No need to look at photos when he could just see you for himself!  Those pictures could never capture your true beauty, anyway.
Before he left, he quickly grabbed the small blue vial given to him by this world’s Alphys.  He probably wouldn’t need to use it, but you could never be too prepared.
Lucky quickly shortcutted close to your home.  Just appearing on your doorstep would seem too clingy, this way he could pretend he was just in the area when you saw him.  He and the others had done this same song and dance many times before, but you hadn’t suspected anything yet.
He had only been walking for a minute or so, when someone walked almost straight into his chest.  “WOAH, WATCH OUT-OH!”  What luck!  It was you!!  “HELLO, DEAR!  WHAT A COINCIDENCE!” he said, turning on the charm.  “IT’S ALWAYS A DELIGHT TO SEE Y-”  Lucky froze.  You looked…strange.  Not in a bad way, but…  “Have You Been Crying?”
You paused, touching your red and puffy eyes.  “Huh?  Oh, no!  I mean, yeah, but no.  I was crying but like, it’s fine,” you half laughed.
Well that didn’t do anything to soothe his mind.  “SO YOU WERE CRYING?  WHY?  DID YOUR BOYFRIEND DO SOMETHING?”  He tried to fight the part of him that hoped your boyfriend had messed up his relationship with you.
“I mean…yeah?  But also it was me who did it,” you giggled again.  “Let’s walk, actually, and I can tell you about it!”
You kept going down the street, practically humming as you did.  A very strange thing for someone who was just crying but also not crying.  “...ARE YOU HIGH?” Lucky asked, following close behind.  
“Uh huh!  Oooooooh that’s probably why you thought I was crying!” you seemed to connect the dots in  your fuzzy brain.  “Yeah, it’s fine!  I just broke up with my boyfriend and wanted to take the edge off a bit,” you said casually.
It took every ounce of self control for Lucky to not cheer and pump his fist in the air.  You were single!  This was the greatest thing that had ever happened!!!  He let a small smile play across his face.  You were slightly in front of him, he could allow himself that luxury.  “I’M SO SORRY TO HEAR THAT!”  Hopefully your smoke addled brain wouldn’t hear the excitement in his voice.  
“It’s okay.  It was…probably not the best relationship,” you admitted.  “I mean, he wasn’t abusive or anything!  He just like, didn’t listen to me ever, you know?”
“HE DID ALWAYS SEEM LIKE THERE WASN’T A LOT UPSTAIRS,” Lucky admitted.
“Yeah, haha!  He’s a dumbass!” you joked, smacking Lucky playfully on the arm.  “Not like you guys!”
Lucky gritted his teeth.  Of course.  You weren’t only thinking of him, but the others as well.  That’s okay, he could work with this.  “I DON’T KNOW, BUTCH IS PRETTY STUPID AS WELL,” he forced a laugh.
“Yeah, but he means well.”  You gave him your dazzling smile.  Even slightly out of it, you were breathtaking.  “Hey, where are the other guys anyway?  Are you here by yourself?”
“WELL, YES.  I WAS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN I RAN INTO YOU.”  An idea suddenly struck him.  “WHY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO BACK TO THE HOUSE WITH ME?”
“You bet your ass I do!  Your place is always soooooo fun!” you gushed.
“PERFECT.  COME ON THEN, DEAR.”  He held out his hand.  You eagerly took it, and Lucky strolled around a corner with you, shortcutting you back to the skeletons’ home.  This time, Lucky hoped, he could convince you to stay.
The two of you reappeared inside his home, and you were almost immediately noticed by the others.  “darlin’!” Hound gasped.  “what are ya doin’ here?”
“Lucky invited me!” you explained cheerfully.  You half stumbled to the couch and inserted yourself in between Hound and Butch, who were watching some old show together.  Lucky’s face contorted into a hateful glare.  Thankfully, you were too busy trying to figure out how your legs worked.  “I just broke up with my boyfriend…”
Butch’s eyes lit up, and Hound looked over at Lucky in surprise.  He raised an eyebrow, silently asking the obvious question.  Lucky just shook his head.  He didn’t have anything to do with it.  You did that yourself.  
“sorry to hear that, doll,” Butch said, voice not sounding sorry at all.  “that mean you’re back on the market?~”  As he spoke, he playfully trailed his hand up your inner thigh.  You smacked it away, laughing.
“Not right now, I want to watch this with you guys!”  You pointed at the show.  Lucky didn’t recognize the program, but it seemed to feature several old women sassing each other.
Butch’s face fell, but he relented.  All the better for him, Lucky thought.  If Butch got to touch you before Lucky did, he would have to cut off Butch’s hand.
“DO YOU WANT TO STAY FOR DINNER?” Lucky asked.  “I THINK NOIR IS IN CHARGE TODAY.”
Your stomach growled, and you nodded eagerly.  “Yes please!  I’m starving!”
“EXCELLENT!  I BELIEVE IT WILL BE READY SOON.”
You nodded, quickly arranging yourself so that your head was on Hound’s lap and your legs draped across Butch’s.  Both of them seemed thrilled by this unusually cuddly version of you.  Lucky tried to stop himself from seething in jealousy.  Sadly, there was no room for him to sit now, so he forced himself to not shove Butch out of the way and take his place.  It’s okay, once you were his, he would be in that spot.
Butch gave Lucky a shit eating grin as he started running his claws up and down your soft legs.  Not as suggestive as before, just relishing in the feel of your skin.  Once again, it took all of Lucky’s self control to not snap right there.
“I’M GOING TO BE UPSTAIRS UNTIL DINNER,” Lucky half growled.  He strode quickly out of the room.  As he rounded the corner to the stairs, he almost ran into someone for the second time today.
“woah, bro, where are you going in such a hurry?”  Oh thank the stars, it was Slim.  “you okay?  you seem ticked off.”
“YES, I…”  He looked behind him.  “Actually, Let’s Talk In Private.”
Slim nodded, and Lucky led him back to his room.  Slim sighed at the state of Lucky’s room.  It was messy as usual, but Lucky could find everything.  Just because nobody else understood his system doesn’t mean it’s not organized!  “i don’t know how you live like this.”
“HUSH, THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT!  WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT…”  Lucky paused for dramatic effect.  “Our Human Is Newly Single.”
Slim’s eyes widened.  “holy shit.”
“YES.  THEY’RE STAYING FOR DINNER, BUT THE BEST PART IS THAT THEY ARE HIGH.  THIS MEANS THAT THEY ARE MUCH MORE SUSCEPTIBLE.”
“we can finally get ‘em to move in,” Slim gasped.
“YES.  DURING DINNER, WE NEED TO TRY OUR BEST TO GET THEM TO STAY.  IF THAT FAILS, I HAVE THIS.”  He pulled the blue vial out of his pocket.  “I GOT THIS FROM THIS WORLD’S ALPHYS.  IF THEY’RE NOT GOING FOR IT, I’LL SLIP THIS INTO THEIR FOOD, AND THEY’LL BE OUT LIKE A LIGHT.  THEN, WE CAN TRY AGAIN IN THE MORNING.  YOU CAN EVEN GET THEM HIGH AGAIN TO HELP CONVINCE THEM!”
“i dunno how i feel about that,” Slim muttered.  “i mean, i don’t want to use weed to make them love us.  that feels shitty.”
“THEY ALREADY LOVE US,” Lucky pointed out.  “THEY JUST NEED WEED TO HELP THEM REALIZE IT!”
“still feels wrong…”
“IT’S ONLY A LAST RESORT,” Lucky pointed out.  “IF ALL GOES WELL, WE DON’T NEED TO USE MY PLAN.”  He gave his brother a joking smile.  “PLUS, YOUR IDEAS HAD WAY MORE MURDER THAN MY PLANS.”
Slim rolled his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face.  “yeah, yeah.  i’m not actually hurting them though, just their shitty boyfriend.  or, ex-boyfriend.”  His smile grew.  “this might actually work.”
“THANK YOU!”
“at least it’s better than sans’s plan.”
“THE BOX ON THE STICK?”
“nyeh heh heh, yeah!  this isn’t fuckin’ looney tunes,” Slim laughed.
The two of them left Lucky’s room, feeling hopeful about their chances with you.  After all, they could  take care of you much better than your ex-boyfriend could.
--------------------------------
Within an hour, all nine of you were around the dinner table.  Noir had cooked some curry, and it actually looked pretty good.  Some of the meat was a bit scorched, but overall, it was much better than when he had first come to this universe.  Lucky couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you practically inhaled your food.  You really were hungry.  He had heard of the munchies before, but it seemed you had it to the extreme.  Papyrus piled some more food onto your plate, and you smiled at him gratefully.
After a few minutes of eating, Lucky finally spoke up.  “SO Y/N,” he said as casually as he could muster.  “I’M SORRY ABOUT YOUR BREAKUP.”
Immediately, the table went silent.  They all turned to you, identical expressions of shock and excitement on their faces.  Lucky was grateful that you were both oblivious and high so you didn’t suspect anything.
“Yeah,” you mumbled between forkfuls of rice.  “I broke up with him.”  You were frowning, but quickly replaced it with a smile.  “He was kind of a jerk.”
“REALLY?” Papyrus asked gently.  “HE SEEMED SO….NICE.”
“He was…at first.  Then he started just…I dunno.”  You sighed.  “I’d ask him to do things, not even hard things, but he wouldn’t.  Sometimes it was like I wasn’t even there.”  You picked at your plate, appetite seemingly gone.  “He’d tell me that he loved me, but he never showed it.  Then when I got frustrated at him he’d act like I was the problem, you know?  I kept trying to understand, but it just got to be too much.”  You seemed to realize you had been talking for a while and shoved some more food into your mouth.  “So yeah, dropped his dead weight!”  You laughed.  “I deserve someone who treats me right!”
“you sure do, darlin’,” Hound smiled.  While you were facing Hound you didn’t notice Sans and Papyrus high fiving under the table.  “you deserve someone who treats ya like royalty.”
“Ha!  You guys are so nice you make me feel like royalty!” you laughed.
Now was his chance.  Lucky spoke up again.  “YES!  WE COULD TREAT YOU LIKE THIS EVERY DAY!” he grinned, pretending to be joking.
“Pfft, come on, I can’t come over to your place every day!” you laughed.  “You’d get sick of me!”
“we’d never get sick of ya, honey,” Slim interjected.  He gave a small smile.  “you could come over every day…or even just stay here.”
Finally, it seemed to click in the rest of the skeletons.  “YES!  YOU COULD STAY HERE,” Noir said, leaning forward.  “I COULD USE SOMEONE WHO APPRECIATES MY CULINARY MASTERPIECES!”
“it’d be great to always have ya around, starlight,” Sans smiled.  “we’re always so much happier when you’re here.”
You blushed.  “Oh come on, there’s no way-”
Scar reached across the table and put his hand over yours.  “I KNOW I DON’T ALWAYS SAY HOW I FEEL, BUT I WOULD BE OVERJOYED IF YOU LIVED WITH US,” he said bluntly.  “DON’T TRY TO ARGUE WITH ME.  YOU ARE A JOY TO HAVE HERE.”
That really seemed to get you, and you covered your face with your hands.  “I-I mean…it’s so sudden, I can’t just pick up and move.”
“WHY?” Lucky asked.
“...I dunno,” you admitted.  “I guess it would be nice to be around you guys…and have a change of scenery…and be around people who actually listen to me…”  It seemed like you were doing the job of convincing you better than the skeletons were.  “Fuck it, why not.”
“YOU MEAN IT?” Lucky asked.  “YOU’LL LIVE WITH US?”
“Sure!”
Immediately, all of the skeletons erupted into cheers.  You seemed shocked by the reception.  “Jeez, I didn’t know you all liked me so much!”
Lucky laughed silently to himself.  Sweet thing, you had no idea.  “OF COURSE WE DO!  YOU’RE OUR FRIEND, AFTER ALL,” he said.
Later that evening, you, Slim, and Lucky ended up on the couch together watching a movie.  You had agreed to stay the night as a sort of “trial run.”  You had fallen asleep much faster than either of them had expected, and your head lolled onto Lucky’s shoulder.  You were pressed in between the two skeletons, and your body heat was heavenly.
“i can’t believe they said yes,” Slim whispered.  He carded his phalanges through your hair.  “i really thought it’d take more convincing.”
“Me Too,” Lucky admitted.  “I’m Glad It Didn’t Come To That, Though.”
“yeah.”  Slim smiled.  “wish we’d have known.  could’ve gotten them high way earlier than this.”
“I Thought You Didn’t Want To Use Weed To Convince Them,” he said teasingly.
“yeah, well, ya can’t argue with the results,” Slim chuckled.  He gently tucked some hair behind your ear.  “i mean, we got ‘em here with us.”
“We Certainly Do.”  Lucky looked down at you.  You looked so peaceful, so relaxed.  He was right, no pictures could ever compare to the real you.  And now, he’d have unfiltered access, whenever he wanted.
He had dreamed of having you all to himself, but…he had to admit that you, him, and his brother made a pretty great family.  If he had to deal with the other skeletons for now, he could live with that.  You would soon realize that he and his brother were the only ones for you.
Until then, this was pretty damn perfect.
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the-woman-upstairs · 5 days
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Honestly, even without Art’s attempts at manipulation and sabotage, I don’t think Patrick and Tashi’s relationship would’ve survived anyway. Before they started dating, Patrick was criticizing her career plans and Tashi was never interested in entertaining his massive ego at her expense. Passion and chemistry are important to relationships, but if that’s the only foundation, it’s gonna crumble quickly.
The only difference between Patrick/Tashi vs Art/Tashi is that the relationship would’ve ending with a bang instead of a whimper.
#challengers#challengers spoilers#patrick and tashi need art between them#his willingness to submit even when done so with manipulative intentions does let tashi and patrick to indulge in their desire for control#the movie makes a point of saying that patrick is constantly shooting himself in the foot because he’s unwilling to humble himself#art let patrick get away with a LOT but tashi does and would not#but even tho patrick does get to the point where he can humble himself it’s still necessary for patrick to go off script and stir shit up#the way the film ends makes it abundantly clear that all three of them need each other to function#and that each person brings something different to the trio that each person needs#so i don’t buy that patrick and tashi could’ve worked things out on their own#tashi so clearly likes art’s dependence and loyalty to her#while also getting a lot from patrick’s passion and pushback#would also like to say that i personally love when art’s a mean little bitch#not only cause it’s fun but because it really seems born out of a fear of being left alone/behind#spreading my ‘art’s a greedy pillow princess that actually needs TWO tops to handle him’ agenda#and wrt the injury…sorry no one’s actually at fault for that#not only could no one could ever engineer something like that#it could’ve happened at any time because that’s life#in the film it’s meant to underscore the danger of disharmony between all three of them#and snap the tenuous thread holding all three of them together#and placing blame kind of misses the overall point the film is going for wrt the relationship between all three#hey is it just me or has this film broken my brain
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if scars don't make man look good then being alive sure does
#mafia 2#henry tomasino#frank vinci#there's going to be a lot of text in hashtags here so first of all:#i gave up at things like “they wouldn't do/say that” at this point#ooc and “what if” are more interestning and entertaining for me sorry mafia fandom#i like to spin the plot and characters like a rubik's cube#so stopping w rat!henry and continue with survived!henry who's true purpose was to became the head of falcone family#so the drug thing was just a way to frame falcone and get vinci to the point where he decided to do away with falcone#because of the increased drug traffic#henry always struck me as the most conservative of the (relatively) young mobsters#so i guess he wouldn't have gone on about the drugs and gotten vinci's sympathy because of it#yet henry didn't expect an attack from the triads and the fact that he survived only reinforced his religiosity#now he wears a rosary and prays more often than he used to#<- i'm actually too lazy to think about the details of how it might work so whatever#and I know the mafia chief's photo wasn't on the wall#but it's more symbolism about the change of power and prioritizing religiosity over personality#i just think he could be a good leader + there's a lot about his pride here#and tbh i just wanted to see him with the scars but my brain can't do anything without a plot#and sunglasses instead of an eye patch#and yeah my brain refuses to believe that he was just overconfident and really believed that there would be no repercussions ->#for selling drugs under the nose of falcone who clearly wanted to become a monopoly in this field#also i don't really care that much about henry surviving tbh#i mean his death fits the story well because it's after all a mob story (no matter was he a rat or not)#(i'm being a bit of a hypocrite here bc i refuse to believe that joe is dead)#“survive and take power” version is just interestning for me#but if i put aside all of this ooc#naah he was too pathetic to do this fr#k im too lazy to write anything further#thank you for coming to my ted talk
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